I I" NATUR E AND THEF SUPE~RNATURAL, AS TOGETHER CONSRITUTING THE ONE SYSTEM OF GOD. 0 BY HORACE BUSHNELL. FIFTH EDITION. NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER, 124 GRAND STREET, LONDON: SAMISON, LOW, SON & CO. 1860. EIZTMPr.D acecrdling to Act of Congress, in lhe year 1858, 1ty CIIARLES SCRIBNER, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States fcr the Southern District of New:v York. 0 R. M. HOBBS, XTBRE~TYFER, HARTFORI-, bOM PREFACE. TIE treatise here presented to the public was written, as regards the matter of it, some years ago. It has been ready for the press more than two years, and has been kept back, by the limitations I am under, which have forbidden my assuming the small additional care of its publication. It need hardly be said that the subject has been carefully studied, as any subject rightfully should be, that raises, for discussion, the great question of the age. 51 Scientifically measured, the argument of the treatise is rather an hypothesis for the matters in question, than a positive theory of them. And yet: like every hypothesis, that gathers in, accommo dates, and assimilates, all the facts of the subject, it gives, in that one test, the most satisfactory and convincing evidence of its prac, tical truth. Any view which takes in easily, all the facts of a sub ject, must be substantially true. Even the highest and most diffi cult questions of science are determined in this manner. While it is easy therefore to raise an attack, at this or that particular point, call it an assumption, or a mere caprice of invention, or a paradox, or a dialectically demonstrable error, there will yet remain, after all such particular denials, the fact that here is a wide hypothesis of the world, and the great problem of life, and sin, and super natural redemption, and Chist, and a christly Providence, and a divinely certified history, and of superhuman gifts entered into the PREFACE. world, and finally of God as related to all, which liquidates these stupendous facts, in issue'between Christians and unbelievers, and gives a rational account of them. And so the points that were assaulted, and perhaps seemed to be carried, by the skirmishes of detail, will be seen, by one who grasps the whole in which they are comprehended, to be still not carried, but to have thenr reason certified by the more general solution of which they are a part. One who flies at mere points of detail, regardless of the whole to which they belong, can do nothing with a subject like this. The points themselves are intelligible only in a way of comprehension, or as being seen in the whole to which they are subordinate. It will be observed that the words of scripture are often cited, and its doctrines referred to, in the argument. But this is never (lone as producing a divine authority on the subject in question. It is very obvious that an argument, which undertakes to settle the truth of scripture history, should not draw on that history for its proofs. The citations in question are sometimes designed to correct mistakes, which are held by believers themselves, and are a great impediment to the easy solution of scripture difficulties; sometimes they are offered as furnishing conceptions of subjects, that are difficult to be raised in any other manner; sometimes they are presented because they are clear enough, in their superiority, to stand by their own self-evidence and contribute their aid, in that manner, to the general progress of the argument. I regret the accidental loss of a few references that could not be recovered, without too much labor. I. B. iv CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. I,RODUCTORY-QUESTION STATED. MANKIND natreally predisposed to believe in supernatural facts, 13. Neolo. gists spring up, whom the Greeks called Sophists, 14. The Romans had their Sophists also, 15. And now the turn of Christianity is come, 16. The naturalism of our day reduces Christianity to a myth, in the same way, 17. This issue is precipitated by modern science, 19. With tokens, on all sides, adverse to Christianity, 21. First, we have the athe istic school of Mir. Hume, 22. Next, Pantheism, 23. Next, the Phys icalists, represented by Phrenology, 23. The naturalistic characters of Unitarianism, 24. The Associationists, 24. The Magnetic necromancy, 25. The classes mostly occupied with the material laws and forces, 25. Modern politics, 26. The popular literature, 28. Evangelical teachers fall into naturalism, without being aware of it, 28. But we undertake no issue with science, 29. Our object is to find a legitimate place for the supernatural, as included in the system of God, 31. And this, with an ultimate reference to the authentication of the gospel history, 32. CHAPTER II. DEFINITIONS-NATURE AND THE SUPERNATURAL. Nature defined, 36. The supernatural defined, 37. Do not design to limit, or deny the propriety of other uses, 38. Definition makes us su pernatural beings ourselves, 42. Our supernatural action illustrated, 43. We operate supernaturally, by making new conjunctions of causes, 45. Not acted on ourselves, by causes that are efficient through us, 46. Not ' scale-beams, in our will, as governed necessarily by the strongest mo tive, 47. In wrong, we consciously follow the weakest motive, 49. The other functions of the soul, exterior to the will, are a nature, 51. Atlan tic Monthly on executive limitations of power, 53. And yet we are con scious, none the less, of liberty, 55. Self-determination indestructible, 56. Hence the honor we put on heroes and martyrs, 57. If we act supernat urally, why not also God? 59. Not enouigh that God acts in the causes of nature, 60. CHAPTER III. NATURE IS NOT THE SYSTEM OF GOD-THINGS AND POWERS, HOW RELATED. Nature oppresses our mind, at first, by her magnitudes, 64. Men, after all, demand something supernatural, 66. Hence the appetite we discover, for the demonstrations of necromancy, 67. Shelly, the atheist, makes a mythology, 67. The defect of our new literature, that it has and yields no inspiration, 63. The agreement of so many modes of naturalism, signifies nothing, because, they have no agreement among themselves 70 1* r CONTENTS. Familiarized to the subordination of causes in nature, that we may not be disturbed by the same fact in religion. 72. Strauss takes note of this fact when denying the po-ibility of miracles, 74. Geology shows that God thus subordinates nature, on a large scale, 76. In the creatior of so many new'races, in place of the extinct races, 77. He created their germs, 78. But man must have been created in maturity, 79. The development theory inverts all the laws of organic and inorganic substance, 81. The aspect of nature indicates interruptive and clashing forces, that are not in the merely mineral causes, 83. Distinction of Things and Powers, 84. Both fully contrasted, 86. Nature not the universe, 86. A subordinate part or member of the great universal system, 87. The principal interest and significance of the universe is in the powers, 89.' CHAPTER IV. PROBLEM OF EXISTENCE, AS RELATED TO TIIE FACT OF SIN. The world of nature, a tool-house for the practice and moral training of powers, 91. Their training, a training of consent, which supposes a power of non-consent, i. e. sin, 92. Possibility of evil necessarily in volved, 93. No limitation of omnipotence, 94. Why, then, does God create with such a possibility? 95. May be God's plan to establish in holiness, in despite of wrong, 96. No breach of unity involved in his plan, 98. The real problem of existence is character, or the perfection of liberty, 99.- Which require a trial in society, 100. And this an em bodiment in matter, 101. Will the powers break loose fiom God, as they may? 103. God desires no such result, 104. When it comes, no sur prise upon His plan, or annihilation of it, 105. Illustrated by the found ing of a school, 105. No causes of sin, only conditions privative, 107. What is meant by the term, 109. First condition privative-defect of knowledge, 110. Have all categorical, but no experimental knowledge, 111. The subject guilty, as having the former, without the latter, 114. Second condition privative-unacquainted with law, and therefore un qualified for liberty, 117. A kind of prior necessity, therefore, that he be passed through a twofold economy, 119. Discover this twofold econ omy in other matters, 120. A third condition privative, as regards social exposure to the irruptions of bad powers, 123. This fact admitted by the necromancers, ]25. Sin then can not be accounted for, 128. No validity in the objection, that God has been able to educate angels with out sin, 129. Proof-text in Jude explained by Faber, 130. No objec tion lies, that sin is made a necessary means of good, 133. The exist ence of Satan explained, or conceived, 134. The supremacy of God not diminished, but increased, by an eternal purpose to reduce the bad possi bility, )37. .IIAPTER V. THE FACT OF SIN. All naturalism begins with som, professed, or tacitly assumed, denial of the fact of sin, 142. Oneliis point, Mr. Parker is ambiguous, 143. Fourier charges all evil against society, 145. Dr. Strauss, all against the individ ual, and none against society, 146. The popular, pantheistic literature denies the fact of sin, 14S. Appeal to observation for evidence, 149 vi CONTENTS. We blame ourselves, as wrong-doers, 151. Our demonstrations show us to be exercised by the consciousness of sin. 154. We act on the supposition that sin is ever to be expected, dreaded, provided against, 156. Forgiveness supposes the fact, 159. So the pleasure we take in satire, 160. So the feeling of sublimity in the tragic sentiment, 161. Solutions of fered by niaturalists, insufficient and futile, 162. They call it "misdirece tion," but it is self-misdirection, therefore sin, 163. CHAPTER VI. TIIE CONSEQUENCES OF SIX. gin has two forces, a spiritual and a dynamic, 165. By the latter as a power of disturbance among causes, it raises storms of retribution agains, itself 166. It also makes new conjunctions of causes, that are destruct ive and disorderly, 169. So that nature answers to it with groans, 170. Thus it is with all the four great departments of life, and first, with the soul, or with souls, 172. No law or function is discontinued, but all its fimnctions are become irregular and discordant, 173. Similar effects in the body, or in bodies, 174. Hence disease, and(, to some extent, certainly, mortality itself, 176, Society is disordered by inheritance, through the principle of organic unity involved in propagation, 177. Objection con sidered, that God, in this way, does not give us a fair opportunity, 178. Two modes of production possible; by propagation, and by the direct cre ation of each man, 179. The mode by propagation, with all its disad vantages of hereditary corruption, shown to be greatly preferable, 179. And yet, in this manner, society becomes organically disordered, 183. Similar effects of mischief in the material world, 186. Not true that nature, as we know it, represents the beauty of God, 187. Swedenborg holds that God creates through man, 188. And somehow it is clear that the creation becomes a type of man, as truly as of God, 189. Battle of the ants, 191. Deformities generally, consequences of sin, 191. Not true that they are introduced to make contrasts for beauty, 193. CHAPTER VII. ANTICIPATIVE CONSEQUENCES. We find disorder, prey, deformity, in the world, before man's arrival-what account shall be made of such a fact? 194. There are two modes of consequences, the subsequent, which are physical effects, and the antici pative, which respect the same faicts before the time, 196. Propose now the question of the anticipative consequences, 198. Evil beings in the world, before the arrival of man; how far disorders in it may be due to the effect of their sin, 199. Anticipative consequences just as truly con sequences, as those which come after, 200. Intelligence must give to kens beforehand of what it perceives, 201. Agassiz and Dana-premed itations and prophetic types, 202. Such anticipative tokens necessary, to show that God understands his empire beforehand, 205. The more im pressive, that they are fresh creations, to a great extent, as shown by Mr. Agassiz, 207. Misshapen forns shown by Hugh Miller to increase, as the era of man approaches-as in the serpent race and many kinds of fishes, 208. God will moderate the pride of science, thus, by the facts of science, 210. The world as truly a conatuws, as an existing fac., 211 vii CONTENTS. The Pantheistic naturalism gives a different accoi,nt of these deformi. ties, 211. Which account neither meets our want, nor even explains the facts, 212. Sin is seen to be a very great fact, as it must be, if it is any thing, 214. Objection considered, that there was never, in this view, any real kosmos at all, 215. Unnature is the grand result of sin, 216. The bad miracle has transformed the world, 218. CHAPTER VIII. NO REMEDY IN DEVELOPMENT, OR SELF-REFORMATION. Two rival gospels, 221. The first, which is development, or the progress of the race, will not restore the fall of sin, 221. No race begins at the savage state, and in that state there is no root of progress, 223. All the advanced races appear, more or less distinctly, to have had visitations of supernatural influence, 225. If there is a law of progress, why are so many races degraded or extirpated? 226. The first stage of man is a crude state, and the advanced and savage races are equally distant from it, 227. Geology shows that God does not mend all disasters by devel opment, 227. Healing is not development, 228. Generally associated with supernatural power, of which it is the type, 230. No one dares, in fact, to practically trust the development principle, whether in the state or in the family, 232. The second rival gospel proposes self-reformation or self-culture, with as little ground of hope, 234. No will-practice, or ethical observance, can mend the disorder of souls, 235. These can not restore harmony, 236. Nor liberty, 236. The only sufficient help, or reliance, is God, 237. There is really no speculative difficulty in the dis abilities of sin, 238. Even Plato denies the possibility of virtue, by any mere human force, 241. Seneca, Ovid, Zenophanes, to the same effect, 244. Plato, Strabo, Pliny, all indicate a want of some supernatural light, or rev elation, 245. The conversion of Clement shows the fact in practical ex hibition, 246. CHAPTER IX. THE SUPERNATURAL COMPATIBLE WITH NATURE AND SUBJECT TO FIXED LAWS. The world is a thing, into which all the powers may rightfully act them selves, 250. Children at the play of ball, a good image of this higher truth, 251. Not the true doctrine of a supernatural agency, that God acts through nature, 254. Did not so act in producing the new races of ge ology, 254. Office of nature, as being designed to mediate the effects im plied in duties and wrongs, 255. Nature the constant, and the super natural, the variable agency, 257. God really governs the world, and by a supernatural method, 258. Without this he has no liberty in nature, more than if it were a tomb, 259. Manifestly we want a God living and acting now, 260. And yet all this action of God, supposes no contraven tion of laws, 261. Reasons why this is inadmissible, 261. Several kinds of law, but all agree in supposing the character of uniformity, 262. Thus we have natural law and moral law, but God's supernatural action. not determined by these, is submitted always to the law of his end, 264. His end being always the same, he will be as exactly submitted to it as nature to her laws, 266. No returning here into the same circle as ia viii 0 CONTENTS. nature, but a perpetually onward motion, 266. What occurs but once here, is done by a fixed law, 269. Many of the laws of the Spirit we know, 270. The idea of superiority it nature, as being uniform corrected. 271. Also, the impression of a superior magnitude iF. nature 273. CHAPTER X. THE CIIARACTER OF JESUS FORBIDS HIS POSSIBLE CLASSIFICATION WITH MEN. The superhuman personality of Christ is fully attested by his character, 277. And the description verifies itself, 277. Represented as beginning with a perfect childhood. 278. Which childhood is described naturally, and without exaggerations of fancy, 280. Represented always as an inno cent being, yet with no loss of force, 283 His piety is unrepentant, yet successfully maintained, 285. He united characters which men are never able to unite perfectly, 286. His amazing pretensions are sustained so as never even to shock the skeptic, 288. Excels as truly in the passive vir tues, 292. Bears the common trials, in a faultless manner of patience, 293. His passion, as regards the time, and the intensity, is not human, 295. His undertaking to organize, on earth, a kingdom of God, is superhu man, 298. His plan is universal in time, 300. He takes rank with the poor, and begins with them for his material, 301. Becoming the head thus of a class, he never awakens a partisan feeling, 304. His teachings are perfectly original and independent, 306. He teaches by no human or philosophic methods, 308. He never veers to catch the assent of multi tudes, 308. He is comprehensive, in the widest sense, 309. He is per fectly clear of superstition in a superstitious age, 311. He is no liberal yet shows a perfect charity, 312. The simplicity of his teaching is perfect, 314. His morality is not artificial or artistic, 316. He is never anxious for his success, 317. He impresses his superiority and his real greatness the more deeply, the more familiarly he is known, 318. Did any such character exist, or is it a myth, or a human invention? 323. Is the char acter sinless? 324. Mr. Parker and Mr. Hennel think him imperfect, 326. Answer of Milton to one of their accusations, 329. How great a matter * that one such character has lived in our world, 331. CIIAPTER XI. CHIRIST PERFORMED MIRACLES. Lfiracles do not prove the gospel, but the problem itself is to prove the miracles 333. General assumption of the skeptics, that miracles are in credible-Spinoza, Hume, Strauss, Parker, 334. Miracles defined, 335. What miracle is not, 337. Some concessions noted of the deniers of miracles-Hennel, 339. Also of Dr. Strauss, 340. His solution of the immediate and the mediate action of God, 341. Proofs-That the super natural action of man involves all the difficulties, 345. That sin is near in appearance to a miracle, 346. That nature, assumed to be perfect and not to be interrupted by God, is in fact become unnature already, 348. That without something equivaefit, the restoration of man is impossi ble, 348. That nature was never designed to be the complete empire of God, 349. That if God has ever done any thing he may as well do a miracle now, 350. Then He is shown, even by science, to have performed ix CONTENTS. miracles, 350. But the great proof is Jesus himself, having power, without suspending any law of nature, 351. O)n an errand high enough to justify miracles, 353. 1T is also significant that the deniers can make no account of the history, which is at all rational-Strauss, 355. Mr. Parker concedes the fact that Christ himself is a miracle, 357. Objection -why not also maintain the ecclesiastical miracles? 359. That according to our definition there may be false miracles, 360. That if they are credible in a former age, they also should be now, 361. That miracles are demonstrations of force, 363. But we rest in Jesus the chief miracle, 365. CHAPTER XII. WATER-MARKS IN THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINl. The most convincing evidence, that which is already on hand, as in water mark, undiscovered, 367. Principal evidence of the kind, the two econo mies, letter and spirit, as being inherently necessary, 368. Overlooked by our philosophers, 369. More nearly discerned by the heathen, 370. Once thought of as necessary, the necessity is seen, 372. Scriptures an ticipate all human wisdom here, 373. And, in this precedence, we dis cover that they are not of man, 375. Another strong proof in the gos pels, not commonly observed, that the supernatural fact of the incarna tion is so perfectly and systematically carried out, 376. There is no such concinnity of facts in any of the mythological supernaturalisms, 376. It appears in a multitude of points, as in the name, gospel, 377. In the name, salvation, 378. In salvation by faith, 379. In justification by faith, 381. In the setting up of a kingdom of God on earth, 384. In the doctrine of the Holy Spirit and his works, as related to Christ and his, 385. In the doctrine of spiritual regeneration, 380. In the sacred mystery of the Trinity, 391. Hence Napoleon, Hennel, and otlh ers, express their admiration of the compactness and firm order of Chris tianity, 396. Whence came this close, internal adaptation of parts in a matter essentially miraculous? 397. Only rational supposition, that the fabric is all of God, as it pretends to be, 399. May see in Mormonism, Mohammedanism, and Romanism, what man can do in compounding su pernaturals, 400. CHAPTER XIII. THE WORLD IS GOVERNED SUPERNATURALLY, IN THE INTEREST OF CHRIS TIANITY. There is but one God, who, governing the world, must do it coincidently with what he is doing in Christ, 405. And this Christ himself boldly affirms, 406. Two kinds of Providence. the natural and supernatural nature the fixed term between us and God, 407. And then there is a vari able mode, in which we come into reciprocal relation with God-this is the supernatural, 408, And in this field, God rules for Christianity's sake, 409. The evidences are, first, that things do not take place as they should, if the effects of sin were left to the endless propagation of causes, 411. Hence then, while the great teachers of the world and their schools disappear, ChriStianity remains, 412. Itself an institution, in the very x CONTENTS. current of the flood, 414. A second evidence, that the events of the world show a divine hand, even that of Christ bearing rule, 415. The Jewish dispersion, the Greek philosoplhy already waning, the Greek tongue every where, the Roman Empire universal, a state of general peace, and so the way of Christ is made ready, 417. So with the events that followedl, 418. But what of the dark ages, and other adverse facts? 421. Enoughl that this mystery of iniquity must work, till the gospel is proved out, 422. Some events confessedly dark, and yet they might be turned to wear a look of advantage, if only we could fathom their import, 425. A third evidence, in the spiritual changes wrought in men-difficullt to change a character, 428. The cases of Paul, Augustine, and others, 431. The changes are facts; if Christianity did not work them, a supernatural Providence did, for Christianity's sake, 434. Not changed by their own ideas, 436. Not by thleologic preconceptions —case of a slioit-witted person-Brainard's conjurer, &c., 437. More satisfactory to conceive these results to be wrought by the Holy Spirit, which comes to really the same thing, 440. How the critics venture, with great defect of modesty, to show the subjects of such changes, that they misconceive their experience, 443. CHIIAPTER XIT. MIRACLES AND SPIRITUAL GIFTS ARE NOT DISCONTINUED. If miracles are inherently incredible, nothing is gained by thrusting them back and cutting thlem short in time, 447. The closing up of the canon no reason of discontinuance, 448. Certainly not discontinued, for this reason, in the days of Chrysostom, 448. There have been suspensions, here and tlicie, but no discontinuance, 449. Does not follow that they will occur, in later times, in the exact way of the former times, 450. The reason of miracles, in that oscillation toward extremes, which be longs to the state of sin, 452. First, we swing toward reason, order, uniformity next, toward fanaticism, 453. Hence almost every appear ance of supernatural gifts, that we can trace, has come to its end in some kind of excess, 455. Why it is that lying wonders are generally con temporancols, 456. The first thing impressed by investigation here, that miracles could not have ceased at any given date-no such date can be found, whichl they do not pass over, 460. Newman and the ecclesiastical mniracles, 4O0. Miracles of the "Scots Worthies," 461. Les Trembleurs des Cevennes, or French prophets, 462. Les Convulsionnaires de Saint Medard, 462. George Fox's miracles, and those of the Friends, 463. Abundance of such f icts in our own time, as in premonitions, answers to prayer, healings, tongues, of the MfacDonalds and the followers of Irving, 467. Case of Miss Fancourt, 467. Not true that the verdict of the thinking men of our day is to decide such a question, 468. The thinking men can mnake nothliing of Joan of Arc, of Cromwell, and many other well-attested characters, 472. But why do we only hear of such at a distance? —lihy not meet the persons, see the facts? 474. We do-Cap tain Yopnt's dream, 475. The testing of prayer by a physician, 477. Appear to have had the tongues in HI-, and other gifts, 478. Case of healing by an English disciple,~ 479. Case of a diseased cripple made whole, 483. The visit of a prophet, 486. Obliged to admit that, while such gifts are wholly credible, they are not so easily believed by ones whose mind is preoccupied by a contrary habit of expectation, 491. xi CONTENTS. CHAPTER XV. CONCLUSION STATED-USES AND RESULTS. Argument recapitulated, 493. It does not settle, or at all move the ques tion of inspiration, but sets the mind in a position to believe inspiration easily, 495. The mythical hypothesis virtually removed, without any direct answer, 496. Have not proved all the miracles, but miracles-let every one discuss the particular questions for himself, 497. Objection that every thing is thus surrendered, 498. Relation of the argument to Mr. Parker's, 499. Particularly to his view of natural inspiration, 501. The argument, if carried, will also affect the estimate held of natural the ology, or modify the place given it, 505. And preserve the positive in stitutions by showing a rational basis for their authority, 509. And correct that false ambition of philanthropy, which dispenses with Chris tianity as the regenerative institution of God, 512. And restore the true apostolic idea of preaching, 514. And require intellectual and moral philosophy to raise the great problem of existence, and recognize the fact of sin and supernatural redemption, 516. And, last of all, will give to faith and Christian experience that solid basis on which they may be ex pected to unfold greater results, 520. 0~~~~~~~~~~ x* CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY.-QUESTION STATED Is the remoter and more primitive ages of the world, sometimes called mythologic, it will be observed that mankind, whether by reason of some native instinct as yet uncorrupted, or some native weakness yet uneradicated, are abundantly disposed to believe in things supernatural. Thus it was in the extinct religions of Egypt, Phoenicia, Greece, and Rome; and thus also it still is in the existing mythologic religions of the East. Under this apparently primitive habit of mind, we find men readiest, in fact, to believe in that which exceeds the terms of mere nature; in deities and apparitions of deities, that fill the heavens and earth with their sublime turmoil; in fates and furies; in nymphs and graces; in signs, and oracles, and incantations; in "gorgons and chimeras dire." Their gods are charioteering in the sun, presiding in the mountain tops, rising out of the foam of the sea, breathing inspirations in the gas that issues from caves and rocky fissures, loosing their rage in the storms, plotting against each other in the intrigues of courts, mixing in battles to give success to their own people or defeat the people of some rival deity. All departments and regions of the world are full of their miraculous activity. Above ground, they are managing the thunders; distilling in showers, or settling in dews; ripening or blasting the harvests; breathing health, or poisoning the air with pestilenitial infections. In the ground they stir up volcanic ires, and wrestle in earthquakes that shake down cities. 2 THIE GREEK SOPHISTS In the deep world underground, they receive the ghosts of departed men, and preside in Tartarean majesty over the realms of the shades. The unity of reason was nothing to these Gentiles. They had little thought of nature as an existing shebeme of order and law. Every thing was supernatural. The universe itself, in all its parts, was only a vast theater in which the gods and demigods were acting their parts. But there sprung up, at length, among the Greekls, some four or five centuries before the time of Christ, a class of speculative neologists and rationalizing critics, called Sophists, who began to put these wild myths of religion to the test of argument. If we may trust the description of Plato, they were generally men without much character, either as respects piety or even good morals; a conceited race of Illuminati, who more often scoffed than arguLed against the sacred things of their religion. Still it was no difficult thing for them to shake, most effectually, the confidence of the people in schemes of religion so intensely mythical. And it was done the more easily that the more moderate and sober minded of the Sophists did not propose to overthrow and obliterate the popular religion, but only to resolve the mythic tales and deities into certain great facts and powers of nature; and so, as they pretended, to find a more sober and rational ground of support for their religious convictions. In this manner we are informed that one of their number, Eumerus, a Cyrenian, "resolved the whole doctrine concerning the gods into a history of nature." * The religion ot the Romans, at a later period, underwent a similar process, and became an idle myth, having * Neander, Vol. I., p. 6. 14 AND THEIR TIMES. no earnest significance and as little practical authority in the convictions of the people. rAnd, when Christ came, the Sadducees were practicing on the Jewish faith in much [he same way. As philosophy entered, religion was falling everywhere before its rationalizing processes. It was poetry on one side and dialectics on the other; and the dialectics were, in this case, more than a match for the poetry,-as they ever must be, until their real weakness and the cheat of their pretensions are discovered. What the Christian father, Justin Martyr, says of the Sophists of his time, was doubtless a sufficiently accurate account of the others in times previous, and may be taken as a faithful picture of the small residuum of religious conviction left by them all. "They seek," he says. "to convince us that the divinity extends his care to the great whole and to the several kinds, but not to me and to you, not to men as individuals. Hence it is useless to pray to him; for every thing occurs according to the unchangeable law of an endless cycle."* Or, we may take the declaration of Pliny, from the side cf the heathen philosophy itself, though many were not ready to go the same length, preferring to retain religion, which they oftener called superstition, as a good instrument for the state and useful as a restraint upon the common people. Hie says:-" All religion is the offspring of necessity, weakness, and fear. What God is, if in truth he be any thing distinct from the world, it is beyond the compass of man's understanding to know." t Thus, between the destructive processes of reason entering on one side to demolish, and Christianity on the other * meander, VoL L, p.9. j Neandor, Vol. L, p.10. 15 * Neander, Vol. I., p. 9. t Neonder, Vol. I., p. 10. THE CHITISTIAN SOPHISTS, to offer itself as a substitute, the old mythologic religions fell, and were completly swept away. And now, at last, the further question comes, viz., whether Christianity itself is also, in its turn, to experience the same fate, and be exterminated by the same or a closely similar process? Is it now to be found that Christianity is only another form of myth, and is it so to be resolved into the mere "history of nature," as the other religions were before it? Is it now to be discovered that the prophecy and miracle of the Old Testament, and all the formally historic matters even of the gospels and epistles of the New, are reducible to mere natural occurrences, "under the unchangeable laws of an endless cycle?" Is this process now to end in the discovery, beyond which there can be no other, that God himself is, in truth, nothing "distinct from the world?" This is the new infidelity: not that rampant, crudeminded, and malignant scoffing which, in a former age, undertook to rid the world of all religion; on the contrary, it puts on the air and speaks in the character of a genuine scholarship and philosophy. It simply undertakes, if we can trust its professions, to interpret and apply to the facts of scripture the true laws of historic criticism. It more generally speaks in the name of religion, and does not commonly refuse even the more distinctive name of Christianity. Coming thus in shapes of professed deference to revealed religion, many persons appear to be scarcely aware of the questions it is raising, the modes of thought it is generating,,and the general progress toward mere naturalism it is beginning to set in motion. Many, also, are the more effectually blinded to the tendency of the 16 OR NATURALIZING CRITICS. times, that so many really true opinions and so many right sentiments, honorable to God and religion, are connected with the pernicious and false method by which it is, in one way or another, extinguishing the faith of relig,ion in the world. It proposes to make a science of religion, and what can be more plausible than to have religion become a science? It finds a religious sentiment in all men, which, in one view, is a truth. It finds a revelation of God in all things, which also is a truth. It discovers a universal inspiration of God in human souls; which, if it be taken to mean that they are inherently related to God, and that God, in the normal state, would be an illuminating, all-moving presence in them, is likewise a truth. It rejoices also in the discovery of great and good men, raised up in all times to be seers and prophets of God; which, again, is not impossible, if we take into account the possibility of a really supernatural training or illumination, outside of the Jewish cultus; as in the case of Jethro, Job, and Cornelius, including probably Socrates and many others like him, awhi were inwardly taught of God and regenerated by the private mission of his Spirit. But exactly this the new infidelity can not allow. All pretenses of a supernatural revelation, inspiration, or experience, it rejects; finding a religion, beside which there is no other, within the terms of mere nature itself; a universal, philosophic, scientific religion. In this it luxuriates, expressing many very good and truly sublime sentiments; sentiments of love, and brotherhood, and worship, quoting scripture, when it is convenient, as it quotes the Orphic hymns, or the Hiomeric and Sybilline verses, and testifying the profoundest admiration to Jesus Christ, irn 17 2* PRESENT TENDENCIES, common with Numa, Plato, Zoroaster, ConfuciLus, Mohammed, and others; and perhaps allowing that he is, on the whole, the highest and most inspired character that has ever yet appeared in the world. All tlhis, on the level of mere nature, without miracle, or incarnation, or resurrection, or new-creation, or any thing above nature. Such representations are only historic myths, covering perhaps real truths, but, as regards the historic form, incredible. Nothing supernatural is to be admitted. Redemption itself, considered as a plan to raise man up out of thraldom, under the corrupted action of nature,-rolling back its currents and bursting its constraints,-is a fiction. There is no such thraldom, no such deliverance, and so far Christianity is a mistake; a mistake, that is, in every thing that constitutes its grandeur as a plan of salvation for the world. We have heard abundantly of these and such like aberrations from the christian truth in Germany, and also in the literary metropolis of our own country. But we have nriot imagined any general tendency, it may be, in this direction, as a peculiarity of our times. If so, we have a discovery to make; for, though it may not be true that any large proportion of the men of our times have distinctly and consciously accepted this form of unbelief, yet the number of such is rapidly increasing, and, what is worse, the number of those who are really in it, without knowing it, is greater and more rapidly increasing still. The current is this way, and the multitudes or masses of the age are falling into it. Let us take our survey of the forms of doubt er denial that are converging on this common center and uniting, as a common force, against the faith of any thing supernatural, and so against the possi is CREATED BY SCIENCE, bility, in fact, of Christianity as a gospel of salvation to the world. From the first moment or birth-time of modern science, if we could fix the moment, it has been clear that Chris tianity must ultimately come into a grand issue of life and death with it, or with the tendencies embodied in its pro giress. BNot that Christianity has any conflict with the facts of science, or they with it. On the contrary, since both it and nature have their common root and harmony in God, Christianity it the natural foster-mother of science, and science the certain handmaid of Christianity. And both together, when rightly conceived, must constitute one complete system of knowledge. But the difficulty is here; that we see things only in a partial manner, and that the two great modes of thought, or intellectual methods, that of Christianity in the supernatural department of God's plan, and that of science in the natural, are so different that a collision is inevitable and a struggle necessary to the final liquidation of the account between them; or, wit is the same, necessary to a proper settlement of the conditions of harmony. Thus, from the time of Galileo's and Newton's discoveries,down to the present moment of discovery and research in geological science, we have seen the Christian teachers stickling for the letter of the Christianl documents and alarmed for their safety, and fightiing, inch by inch and with solemn pertinacity, the plainest, most indisputable or even demonstrable facts. On the other side, the side of science, multitudes, especially of the mere dilettanti, have been boasting, almost every month, some discovery that was to make a fatal breach upon revealed religion. 19 20 OR THE METHOD) OF SCIENCE. And a much greater danger to religion is to be apprehended from science than this, viz., the danger that comes from what may be called a bondage under the method of science,-as if nothing could be true, save as it is proved by the scientific method. Whereas, the method of all the higher truths of religion is different, being the method of faith; a verification by the heart, and not by the notions of the head. Busied in nature, and profoundly engrossed with her phenomena, confident of the uniformity of her laws, charmed with the opening wonders revealed in her processes, armed with manifold powers contributed to the advancement of commerce and the arts by the discovery of her secrets, and pressing onward still in the inquest, with an eagerness stimulated by rivalry and the expectation of greater wonders yet to be revealed,-occupied in this manner, not only does the mind of scientific men but of the age itself become fastened to, and glued down upon, nature; conceiving that nature, as a frame of physical order, is itself the system of God; unable to imagine any thing higher and more general to which it is subordinate. Imprisoned, in this manner, by the terms and the method of nature, the tendency is to find the whole system of God included under its laws; and then it is only a part of the same assumption that we are incredulous in regard to any modification, or seeming interruption of their activity, from causes included in the supernatural agency of persons, or in those agencies of God himself that complete the unity and true system of his reign. And so it comes to pass that, while the physical order called nature is perhaps only a single and very subordinate term of that universal divine system, a mere pebble chafing in the ocean-bed of THE REVISION PREPARING. its eternity, we refuse to believe that this pebble can be acted on at all from without, requiring all events and changes in it to take place under the laws of acting it has inwardly in itself. There is no incarnation therefore, no miracle, no redemptive grace, or experience; for God's system is nature, and it is incredible that the laws of nature should be interrupted; all which is certainly true, if there be no higher, more inclusive system under which it may take place systematically, as a result even of sys tem itself. And exactly this must be the understanding of mankind, at some future time, when the account between Christianity and nature shall have been fully liquidated. When that point is reached, it will be seen that the real system of God includes two parts, a natural and a supernatural, and it will no more be incredible that one should act upon the other, than that one planet or particle in the department of nature should act upon and modify the action of another. But we are not yet ready for a discovery so difficult to be made. Thus far the tendency is visible, on every side, to believe in nature simply, and in Christianity only so far as it conforms to nature and finds shelter under its laws. And the mind of the christian world is becoming, every day, more and more saturated with this propensity to naturalism; gravitating, as it were, by some fixed law, though imperceptibly or unconsciously, toward a virtual and real unbelief in Christianity itself; for the Christianity that is become a part only of nature, or is classified under nature, is Christianity extinct. That we may see how far the minl of an age is infected by this raturalizing tendency, let us note a few of the thousand and one forms in which it appears. 21 22 ATHEISM NATURALISTIC, OF COURSE. First we have the relics of the old school of denial and atheism, headed most conspicuously by Mr. Hume and the French philosophers. All atheists are naturalists of necessity. And atheism there will be in the world as long as sin is in it. If the doctrine dies out as argument, it will remain as a perverse and scoffing spirit. Or it will be reproduced in the dress of a new philosophy. Dying out as a negation of Hobbes or Hume, it will reappear in the positive and stolidly physical p:'etendershlip of Comte. But, whatever shape or want of shape it takes, destructive or positive,-a doctrine or a scoffing,, a thought of the head or a distemper of the passions,-it will of course regard a supernatural faith as the essence of all unreason. Still it can not be said that the negations of Mr. Hume are gone by, as long as they are assumed and practically held as fundamental truths, by many professed teachers of Christianity; for it is remarkable that our most recent and most thorotugh-going school of naturalists, or naturalizing critics in the Christian scriptures, really place it as the beginning and first principle of criticism, that no miracle is credible or possible. This they take by assumption, as a point to be no longer debated, after the famous argument of Hume. The works of Strauss, Hennel, Newman, Froude, Fox, Parker, all more or less distinguished for their ability, as for their virtual annihilation of the gospels, are together rested on this basis. They are not all atheists; perhaps none of them will admit that distinction; some of them even claim to be superlatively christian. But the assault upon Christianity, in which they agree, is the one,from which the greatest harm is now to be expected, and that, in great part, for the reason that they do not acknowledge the true genealogy of their doc PANTHEISTS AND PHRENOLOGISTS. trine, and that, hovering over the gulf that separates athe. ism from Christianity, they take away faith from one, without exposing the baldness and forbidding sterility of the other. They have many apologies too, in the unhappy incumbrances thrown upon the christian truth by its defenders, which makes the danger greater still. -Next we have the school or schools of pantheists; who identify God and nature, regarding the world itself and its history as a necessary development of God, or the consciousness of God. Of course there is no power out of nature and above it to work a miracle; consequently no revelation that is more than a development of nature. Nlext in order comes the large and vaguely-defined body of physicalists, who, without pretending to deny Christianity, value themselves on finding all the laws of obligation, whether moral or religious, in the laws of the body and the world. The phrenologists are a leading school in this class, and may be taken as an example of the others. Human actions are the results of organization. Laws of duty are only laws of penalty or benefit, inwrought in the plhysical order of the world; and Combe "On the Constitution of Man' is the real gospel, of which Christianity is only a less philosophic version. Thousands of persons who have no thought of rejecting Christianity are sliding continually into this scheme, speaking and reasoning every hlour about matters of duty, in a way that supposes Christianity to be only an interpreter of the ethics of nature, and resolving duty itself, or even salvation, into mere prudence, or skill;-a learning +to walk among things, so as not to lose one's balance an; fall or be hurt; or, when it is )lost, finding how to recover and stand up again. Closely related to these, or else included among them, 23 24 ETHICAL CONCEPTIONS OF UNITARIANS. we are to reckon, with some exceptions, the very intelligent, influential body 6f Unitarian teachers of Christianity. Maintaining, as they have done with great earnestness, the truth of the scripture miracles, they furnish a singular and striking illustration of the extent to which a people may be slid away from their speculative tenet, by the practical drift of what may be called their working scheme. Denying human depravity, the need of a supernatural grace also vanishes, and they set forth a religion of ethics, instead of a gospel to faith. Their word is practically, not regeneration, but self-culture. There is a good( seed in us, and we ought to make it grow ourselves. The gospel proposes salvation; a better name is development. Christ is a good teacher or interpreter of nature, and only so a redeemer. God, they say, has arranged the very scheme of the world so as to punish sin and reward virtue; therefore, any such hope of forgiveness as expects to be delivered of the natural effects of sin by a supernatural and regenerative experience, is vain; because it implies the failure of God's justice and the overturning of a natural law. Whoever is delivered of sin, must be delivered bv such a life as finally brings the great law of justice on his side. To be justified freely by grace is impossible.* Again, the myriad schools of Associationists take it as a fundamental assumption, whether consciously or unconsciously, that human nature belongs to the general order of nature, as it comes from God, and that nothing is wanting to the full perfection of man's happiness, but to have society organized according to nature, that is scientifically. N) new-creation of the s)ul in good, proceeding from a point above nature, is needed or to be expected. The propensi * Dewey's Sermon on Retribution. ASSOCIATIONISTS AND MAGNETISTS. 25 ties and passions of men are all right now; "attractions are proportioned to destinies" iif them, as in the planets. WAhat is wanted, therefore, is not the supernatural redemption of man, but only a scientific reorganization of society. Next we have the magnetists or seers of electricity, opening other spheres and conditions of being by electric impacts, and preparing a religion out of the revelations of natural clairvoyance and scientific necromancy; the more confident of the absurdity of the christian supernlaturalism, or the plan of redemption by Christ, that they have been so mightily illuminated by the magnetic revelations. They are greatly elated also by other and more superlative discoveries, in the planets and third heavens and the two superior states; boasting a more perfect and fuller opening of the other world than even Christianity has been able to make. Again it will be observed that almost any class of men, whose calling occupies them much with matter and its laws, have always, and now more than ever, a tendency to merely naturalistic views of religion. This is true of physicians. Continually occupied with the phenomena of the body, and its effects on the mind, they are likely, without denying Christianity, to reduce it practically to a form of naturalism. So of the large and generally intelligent class of mechanics. Having it for the occupation and principal study of life to adjust applications of the great laws of chemistry and dynamicsJ, and exercised but little in subjects and fields of thought external to mere nature, they very many of them come to be practical unbelievers in every thing but nature. Thaey believe in cause and effect, and are likely to be just as much more skeptical in regard to any higher and better faith. Active-minded, ingenious '4 ME MATERIAL ENGAGEMEN'S. and sharp, but restricted in the range of their exercise, they surrender themselves, in great numbers, to a feeling of unreality in every thing but nature. Again the tendency of modern politics, regarded as concerned with popular liberty, is in the same direction. Civil government is grounded, as the people are every day informed by their leaders, with airs of assumed statesmanship, in a social compact; a pure fiction, assumed to account for whole worlds of fact; for every body knows that no such compact was ever formed, or ever supposed to be, by any people in the world. It has the advantage, nevertheless, of accounting for the political state, atheistically, under mere nature; and is, therefore, the more readily accepted, though it really accounts for nothing. For if every subject in the civil state were in it as a real contractor, joining and subscribing the contract himself, what is there even then to bind him to his contract, save that, in the last degree, he is bound by the authority of God and the sanctions of religion. Besides there never can be, in this view, any such thing as legislation, but only an extended process of contracting; for legislation is the enactment of laws, and laws have a morally binding authority on men, not as contractors, but as subjects. It seems to be supposed that this doctrine of a social compact has some natural agreement with popular institutions, where laws are enacted by a major vote; whereas the major supposes a minor, non-assenting vote; and as this minor vote has been always a fact, from first to last, the compact theory fails, after all, to show how majorities get a right to govern that is better, even theoretically, than the right of any single autocrat. There is, in fact, no conceivable basis of civil authority and law, which does not 26 l'OLITICS AND PROGRESS. recogniz, the state, as being, in this form or in that, a creation of ]?rovidence and, as Providence manages the world in the interest of redemption, a fact supernatural; which does not recognize the state as God's minister in the supernatural works and ends of his administration-appointed by him to regulate the tempers, restrain the passions, redress the wroings, shield the persons, and so to conserve the order of a fallen race, existing only for those higher aims which he is prosecuting in their history. Still we are contriving, always, how to get some ground of civil order that separates it wholly from God. A social compact, popular sovereignty, the will of the people, any thing that has an atheistic jingle in the sound and stops in the plane of mere nature best satisfies us. We renounce, in this manner, our true historic foster-mother, religion, taking for the oracle and patron saint of our politics Jean Jacques Rousseau. And the result is that the immense drill of our political life, more far-reaching and powerful than the pulpit, or education, or any protest of argument, operates continually and with mournful certainty against the supernatural faith of Christianity. Hence too it is that we hear so much of commerce, travel, liberty, and the natural spread of great inventions, as causes that are starting new ideas, and must finally emancipate and raise all the nations of mankind. In which it seems to be supposed that there is even a law of self-redemption in society itself. As if these external signs or incidents of progress were its causes also; or as if they were themselves un caused by the supernatural and quickening power of Christ. Whether Christianity can finally survive this death-damp of naturalism in our political and social ideas, remains to be seen. 27 REIGNING LITERATURE. I have only to add, partly as a result of all these causes, and partly as a joint cause with them, that the popular literature of the times is becoming generally saturated with naturalistic sentiments of religion. The literature of no other age of the world was ever more religious in the form, only the religion of it is, for the most part, rather a substitute for Christianity than a tribute to its honor;a piracy on it, as regards the beautiful and sublime precepts of ethics it teaches, but a scorner only the more plausible of whatever is necessary to its highest authority, as a gift from God to the world. It praises Christ, as great or greatest among the heroes; finds a God in the all, whom it magnifies in imposing pictures of sublimity; rejoices in the conceit of an essential divinity in the soul and its imaginations; dramatizes culture, sentiment, and philanthropy; and these, inflated with an airy scorn of all that implies redemption, it offers to tne world, and especially to the younger class of the world, as a more captivating and plausible religion. To pursue the enumeration further is unnecessary. AVhat we mean by a discussion of the supernatural truth of Christianity is now sufficiently plain. WVe undertake the argument from a solemn conviction of its necessity, and because we see that the more direct arguments and appeals of religion are losing their power over the public mind and conscience. This is true especially of the young, who pass into life under the combined action of so many causes, conspiring to infuse a distrust of whatever is supernatural in religion. Persons farther on in life are out of the reach of these pew influences, and, unless their attention is specially called to the fact, have little suspicion of what is going on in the mind of the rising classes of the 28 ORTHODOXY NO SECURITY world,-more and more saturated every day with this insidious form of unbelief. And, yet we all, with perhaps the exception of a few who are too far on to suffer it, are more or less infected with the same tendency. Like an atmosphere, it begins to envelope the common mind of the world. We frequently detect its influence in the practical difficulties of the young members of the churches, who do not even suspect the true cause themselves. Indeed, there is nothing more common than to hear arguments advanced and illustrations offered, by the most evangelical preachers, that have no force or meaning, save what they get froni the current naturalism of the day. W~e have even heard a distinguished and carefully orthodox preacher deliver a discourse the very doctrine of which was inevitable, unqualified naturalism. Logically taken and carried out to its proper result, Christianity could have had no ground of standing left,-so little did the preacher himself understand the true scope of his doctrine, or the mischief that was beginning to infect his conceptions of the christian truth. In the review we have now sketched, it imay easily be seen on what one point the hostile squadrons of unbelief are marching. Never before, since the inauguration of Christianity in our world, has any so general and momentous issue been made with it as this which now engages andl gathers to itself, in so many ways, the opposing forces of human thought and society. Before all these combinations the gospel must stand, if it stands; and against all these must triumph, if it triumphs. Either it must yield, or they must finally coalesce and become its supporters. Do we undertake then, with a presumptuous and even 3* 29 0 VWHAT WE DO NOT ATTEMPT, preposterous confidence, to overturn all the science, argu ment, influence of the modern age, and so to vindicate the supernaturalism of Christianity? By no means. W e do not conceive that any so heavy task is laid upon us. On the contrary, we regard all these adverse powers as beinlg, in another view, just so many friendly powers, every one of which has some contribution to make for the firmer settlement and the higher completeness of the christian faith. They are not in pure error, but there is a discoverable and valuable truth for us, maintained by every one, if only it were adequately conceived and set, as it will be, in its fit place and connection. Mr. IIume's argument, for example, contains a great and sublime truth; viz., that nothing ever did or will take place out of system, or apart from law-not even miracles themselves, which must, in some higher view, be as truly under law and system as the motions even of the stars. Pantheism has a great truth, and is even wanted, as a balance of rectification to the common error that places God afar off, outside of his works or above, in some unimagined altitude. No doubt there is a truth somewhere in spiritism which will yet accrue to the benefit of Christianity, or, at least, to an important rectification of our conceptions of man. So of all the other schools and modes of naturalism that I have named. I have no jealousy of science, or any fear, whether of its facts or its arguments. For God, we may be certain, is in no real disagreement with himself. It is only a matter of course that, until the great account between Christianity and science is liquidated, there should be an appearance of collision, or disagreement, which does not really exist. -s little do we propose to go into a desultory battle with the manifold schemes of naturalism AND WHAT WE DO, above described; still less to undertake a reconciliation of each or any of them with the ehristian truth. What I propose is simply this; to find a legitimnate place for the supergatural it the systemi of God, and show it as a necessary}part of the divine system itself If I am successful, I shall make out an argument for the supernatural in Christianity that will save these two conditions:-First, the rigid unity of the system of God; secondly, the fact that every thing takes place under fixed laws. I shall make out a conception both of nature and of supernatural redemption by Jesus Christ, the incarnate Word of God, which exactly meets the magnificent outline-view of God's universal plan, given by the great apostle to the Gentiles,-"And He is before all things, and by Him [in HIim, it should be,] all thing,s consist." Christianity, in other words, is not an afterthought of God, but a forethought. It even antedates the world of nature, and. is "before all things,"-" before the foundation of the world." Instead of coming into the world, as being no part of the system, or to interrupt and violate the system 4 things, they all consist, come together into system, in Christ, as the center of unity and the head of the universal plan. The world was made to include Christianity; under that becomes a proper and complete frame of order; to that crystalizes, in all its appointments, events, and expe riences; in that has the design or final cause revealed, by which all its distributions, laws, and historic changes are determined and systematized. All which is beautifully and even sublimely expressed in the single word "con-sist," a word that literally signifies standing toget/ier; as when many parts coalesce in a common whole. Hence it is the more to be regretted that the translators, in the rendering 31 TO FORTIFY "by him," instead of the more literal and exact rendering "in him," have so far confused the significance and obscured the beauty of a passage that, properly translated, is so remarkable for the transcendent, philosophic sub limity of its import. The same truth is declared more circumstantially and as much less succinctly in the gospel of John. "All things are made by Hiim, and without Hiim [i. e., apart from Hiim as the formal cause or regulative idea of the plan,] was not any thing made that was made." Or to the same effect,-" IHe was in the world,"-" he came unto his own," affirming that he was here before he came as the son of Mary; and that, when he came, he came not as an intruder, defiant of all previous order in nature, but as coming unto "his own," to fulfill the creative idea centered in his person, and to complete the original order of the plan. Such is the general object of the treatise I now undertake; and, if I am able, in this manner, to obtain a solid, intellectual footing for the supernatural, evincing not only the compatibility, but the essentially complementary relation of nature and the supernatural, as terms included, ab origine, in the unity of God's plan, or system, I shall, of course, produce a conviction, as much more decided and solid, of those great practical truths, which belong to the supernatural side of Christianity; such as incarnation, regeneration, justification by faith, divine guidance, and prayer;-truths which are now held so feebly, and in g manner so timid and partial, as to rob them of their genuine power. Any thing which displaces the present jealousy of what is supernatural, or abolishes the timidity of faith, must, as we may readily see, be an important contri 82 CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE, bution to christian experience and the practical life of religion. Nothing do we need so deeply as a new inauguration of faith; or, perhaps I should rather say, a reinauguration of the apostolic faith, and the spirit which distinguished the apostolic age. And yet a reinauguration of this must, in some very important sense, be a new inauguration; for it can be accomplished only by some victory over naturalism, that prepares a rational foundation for the supernatural-such as was not wanted, and was, therefore, impossible to be prepared, in the first age of the church. It is scarcely necessary to add that, while I am looking with interest to the emboldening of faith in the great truths of holy experience, I have a particular looking in my argument toward the authentication of the christian scrip)tures, in a way that avoids the inherent difficulties of the question of a punctually infallible and verbal inspiration. These difficulties, I feel constrained to admit, are insuperable; for, when the divine authority of the scriptures is made to depend thus on the question of their most rigid, strictest, most punctual infallibility, they are made, in fact, to stand or fall bye mere minima and not by any thing principal in them, or their inspiration. And then whatever smallest doubt can be raised, at any most trivial point, suffices to imperil every thing, and the main question is taken at the greatest possible disadvantage. The argument so stated must inevitably be lost; as, in fact, it always is. For it has even to be given up, at the outset, by concessions that leave it nothing on which to stand. For no sturdiest advocate of a verbal and punctual inspiration can refuse to admit variations of copy, and the probable or possible mistake of this or that manuscript, in a o~3 TO ESTABLISII transfer of names and numerals. It is equally difficult to withhold the admission, here and there, of a possible interpolation, or that words have crept into the text that were once in the margin. Starting, then, with a definition of infallibility, fallibility is at once and so far admitted. After all, the words, syllables, iotas of the book are coming into question,-the infallibility is logically at an end even by the supposition. The moment we begin to ask what manuscript we shall follow? what words and numerals correct? vwhat interpolations extirpate? we have possibly a large workl on hand, and where is the limit? Shall we stop short of giving up 1 John, v., 7, or shall we go a large stride beyond, and give up the first chapters of MaTtthew and Luke? We are also obliged to admit that the canon was not made by men infallibly guided by the Spirit; and then the possibility appears to logically follow that, despite of any power they had to the contrary, some book may have been let into the canon which, with many good tllhings, has some speckls of error in it. Besides, if the question is thrown back upon us, at this point, we are obliged to admit, and do, as a familiar point of orthodoxy, that our own polarities are disturbed, our judgment discolored, by sin; so that, if the book is infallible, the sense of it as infallible is not and can not be in us; how then can we affirm it, or maintain it, in any such mannier of strictness and exact perception? We could not even sustain the infallibility of God in this manner; i.e. because we are able to know it, item by item, as comprehending in ourselves a complete sense of his infalibility. We establish God's infallibility only by a constructive use of generals, the particulars of 34 THE GOSPEL HISTORY. which are conceived by us only in the faintest, most par. tial manner. Now these difficulties, met in establishing a close and punctual infallibility, are rather logical than real, and oriinate, not in any defect of the scriptures, but i a state meut which puts us in a condition to make nothing of a good cause,-a condition to be inevitably worsted. Indeed there is no better proof of a divine force and authority in the scriptures, able to affirm and a] ways affirming itself in its own right, even to the end of the world, than that they continue to hold their ground so firmly, when the speculative issue joined in their behalf has been so badly chosen and, if we speak of what is true logically, so uniformly lost. I see no way to gain the verdict which, in fact, they have hitherto gained for themselves, but to change our method and begin at another point, just where they themselves begin; to let go the minima and lay hold of the principals;-those great, outstanding verities, in which they lay their foundations, and by which they assert themselves. As long as the advocates of strict, infallible inigiration are so manifestly tangled aind lost in the trivialities they contend for, these portentous advances of naturalism will continue. And, as many are beginning already, with no fictitious concern, to imagine that Christianity is now being put upon its last trial,-whether to stand or not they hardly dclare be conlfident,-why should they be farther discouraged by adhering to a mode of trial which, in being lost, really decides nothing. Let the church of God, and all the friends of revelation, as a word of the Lord to faith, turn their thloughts upon an issue more intelligent and significant, and one that can b(, certainly sustained. 35 CHAPTER II. DEYINITIONS.-NATURE AND THE SUPERNATURAL. IN order to the intelligent prosecution of our subject, we need, first of all, to settle on the true import of certain words and phrases, by the undistinguishing and contused use of which, more than by any other cause, the unbelieving habit of our time has been silently and imperceptibly determined. They are such as these:-" nature," "the system of nature," "the laws of nature," "universal nature," "the supernatural," and the like. The first and last named, "nature" and the "supernatural," most need our attention; for, if these are carefully distinguished, the others will scarcely fail to yield us their true meaning. The Latin etymology of the word nature, presents the true force of the term, clear of all ambiguity. The nature [-?attra] of a thing is the future participle of its being or becoming-its about-to-be, or its about to-come-topass,-and the radical idea is, that there is, in the thing whose nature we speak of, or in the whole of things called nature, an about-to-be, a definite futurition, a fixed law of coming to pass, such that, given the thing, or whole of things, all the rest will follow by an inherent necessity. In this view, nature, sometimes called "universal nature," and sometimes "the system of nature," is that created realm of being or substance which has an acting, a going on or process fiom within itself, under and by its own laws. Or, if we say, with some, that the laws are but another name for the immediate actuating power of God, NATURE DEFINED. still it makes no difference, in any other respect, with our conception of the system. It is yet as?y the laws, the powers, the actings, were inherent in the substances, and were by them determined. It is still to our scientific separated from our religious contemplation, a chain of causes and effects, or a scheme of orderly succession, determined from within the scheme itself. Having settled, thus, our conception of nature, our conception of the supernatural corresponds. That is supernatural, whatever it be, that is either not in the chain of natural cause and effect, or which acts on the chain of cause and effect, in nature, from without the chain. Thus if any event transpires in the bosom, or upon the platform of what is called nature, which is not from nature itself, or is varied from the process nature would execute by her own laws, that is supernatural, by whatever power it is wrought. Suppose, for example, (which we may, for illustration's sake, even though it can not be,) that there were another system of nature incommunicably separate from ours, some "famous continent of universe," like that on wich Bunyan stumbled, "as he walked through many regions and countries;" if, then, this other universe were swung up side by side with ours, great disturbance would result, and the disturbance would be, to us, supernatural, because from without our system of nature; for, though the laws of our system are acting, still, in the disturbance, they are not, by the supposition, acting in their own system, or conditions, but by an action that is varied by the forces and reciprocal actings of the other. So if the processes, combinations, and results of our system of nature are interrupted, or varied by the action, whether of God, or angels, or men, so as to bring to pass what would not 0~~~~~~ 4 37 ALSO THE SUPERNATURAL. come to pass in it by its own internal action, under the laws of mere cause alnd effect, the variations are, in like manner, supernatural. And exactly this we expect to show: viz., that God has, in fact, erected another and higher system, that of spiritual being and government, for which nature exists; a system not under the law of cause and effect, but ruled and marshaled under other kinds of laws and able continually to act upon, or vary the action of the processes of nature. If, accordingly, we speak of system, this spiritual realm or department is much more properly called a system than the natural, because it is closer to God, higher in its consequence, and contains in itself the ends, or final causes, for which the other exists and to which the other is made to be subservient. There is, however, a constant action and reaction between the two, and, strictly speaking, they are both together, taken as one, the true system of God; for a system, in the most proper and philosophic sense of the word, is a complete and absolute whole, which can not be taken as a part or fraction of any thing. We do not mean, of course, by these definitions, or distinctions of the natural and supernatural, to assume the impropriety of the great multitude of expressions, in which these words are more loosely employed. They may well enough be so employed; the convenience of speech requires it; but it is only the more necessary, on that account, that we thoroughly understand ourselves when we use them in this manner. Thus we sometimes speak of "the system of nature," using the word nature in a loose and general ways as comprising all creaed existence. But if we accommodate ourselves in this manner, it behooves us to see that we do not, in using such a term, slide into a false philosophy 38 LOOSER USES, which overturns all obligation, by assuming the real uni versality of cause and effect, and the subjection of human actions to that law. It may be true that men are only things, determinable under the same conditions of causality, but it will be soon enough to assert that fact, when it is ascertained by particular inquiry; which inquiry is much more likely to result in the impression that the phrase, "system of nature," understood in this manner as implying, that human actions are determined by mcchanical laws, is much as if one were to speak of the "systein of the school-house," as supporting the inference that the same kind of frame-work that holds the timbers together, is also to mortise and pin fast the moral order of the school. In the same nmanner, we sometimes sav "universal nlature," when we only catch up the term to denote the whole creation or universe, without deciding any thing in regard to the possible universality of nature properly defined. To this, again, there is no objection, if we are only careful not to slide into the opinion that natural laws and causes comprehend every thing; as multitudes do, without thoj-ghlt, ii- simply yielding to the force of such a term. The word "Vattre," again, is currently used in our modern literature as the name of a Universal Power; be it an eternal fate, or an eternal systemni of matter reigning by its necessary laws, or an eternal God who is the All, and is, in fact, nowise different from a system of matter. Nature undergoes, in this manner, a kind of literary apotheosis, and receives the mock honors of a dilettanti worship. And the new nature-religion is the more valued, because both the god and the worship, being creatures of the reigning school of letters, are supposed to be of a more superlative and less common quality. But, though some 39 40 PERMISSIBLE WITH CAUTION. thing is here said of religion, with a religious air, the word nature, it will be'found, is used in exact accordance stili with its rigid and proper meaning, as denoting that which has its fixed laws of coming to pass within itself. The only abuse consists in the assumed universal extent of nature, by which it becomes a fate, an all-devouring abyss of necessity, in which God, lnd man, and all free beings are virtually swallowed up. If it should happen that nature proper has no such extent; but is, instead, a comparatively limited and meager fraction of the true universe, the new religion would appear to have but a very shallow foundation, and to be, in fact, a fraud, as pitiful as it is airy and pretentious. We also speak of a nature in free beings, and count upon it as a motive, cause, or ground of certainty, in respect of their actions. Thus we assign the nature of God, and the nature of man, as reasons of choice and roots of character, representing that it is "the nature of God " to be holy, or (it may be,) "the nature of man to do wrong." Nor is there any objection to this use of the word "natu re," taken as popular language. There is, doubtless, in God, as a free intelligence, a constitution, having fixed laws, answering exactly to our definition of nature. That there is a proper and true nature in man we certainly know; for all the laws of thought, memory, association, feeling, in the human soul are as fixed as the laws of the heavenly bodies. It is only the will that is not under the law of cause and effect; and the other functions are, by their laws, subordinated, in a degree, to the uses of the will and its directing sovereignty over their changes and processes. And yet the will, calling these others a nature, is in turn solicited and-drawn by them, just as the expressions alluded LOOSER USES PERMISSIBLE. to imply, save that they have, in fact, no causative agency on the will at all. They are the will's reasons, that in view of which it acts; so that, with a given nature, it may be expected, with a certain qualified degree of confidence, to act thus or thus; but they are never causes on the will, and the choices of the will are never their effects. Therefore, when we say that it is "the nature of man to (ldo this," the language is to be understood in a secondary, tropical sense, and not as when we say that it is the nature of fire to burn or water to freeze. As little would I be understood to insist that the term supernatural is always to be used in the exact sense I have g ven it. Had the word been commonly used in this close, sharply-defined meaning, much of our present unbelief, or misbelief, would have been obviated; for these aberrations result almost universally from our use of this word in a manner so indefinite and so little intelligent. Instead of regarding the supernatural as that which acts on the chain of cause and effect in nature from without the chain, and adhering to that sense of the term, we use it, very commonly, in a kind of ghostly, marveling sense, as if relating to some apparition, or visional wonder, or it may be to some desultory, unsystematizable action, whether of angels or of God. Such uses of the word are permissible enoug,h by dictionary laws, but they make the word an offense to all who are any way inclined to the rationalizing habit. On the other hand, there are many who claim to be acknowledged as adherents of a supernatural faith, with as little definite understanding. Believing in a God super rior to nature, acting from~behind and through her laws, they suppose that they are, of course, to be classed as be lievers in a supernatural being and religion. But the 4* 41 DISTINCTION SEEN, genuine supernaturalism of Christianity signifies a great deal more than this; viz., that God is acting from without ({ the lines of cause and effect in our fallen world and our disordered humanity, to produce what, by no mere laws of nature, will ever come to pass. Christianity, therefore, is supernatural, not because it acts through the laws of nature, limited by, and doing the work of, the laws; but because it acts regeneratively and new-creatively to repair the damage which those laws, in their penal action, would otherwise perpetuate. Its very distinction, as a redemptive agency, lies in the fact that it enters into nature, in this regenerative and rigidly supernatural way, to reverse and restore the lapsed condition of sinners. But, the real import of our distinction between nature and the supernatural, however accurately stated in words, will not fully appear, till we show it in the concrete; for it does not yet appear that there is, in fact, any such thing known as the supernatural agency defined, or that there are it esse any beings, or classes of beings, who are distinguished by the exercise of such an agency. That what we have defined as nature truly exists will not be doubted, but that there is any being or power in the universe, who acts, or can act upon the chain of cause and effect in nature from without the chain, many will doubt and some will strenuously deny. Indeed the great difficulty heretofore encountered, in establishing the faith of a supernatural agency, has been due to the fact that we have made a ghost of it; discussing it as if it were a marvel of superstition, and no definite and credible reality. Whereas, it will appear, as we confront our difficulty more thoughtfully and take its full force, that the moment we begin to 42 IN THE WORLD OF FACT. conceive ourselves rightly, we become ourselves supernatural. It is no longer necessary to go hunting after marvels, apparitions, suspensions of the laws of nature, to find the supernatural; it meets us in what is least transcendent and most familiar, even in ourselves. In ourselves we discover a tier of existences that are above nature and, in all their most ordinary actions, are doing their will upon it. The very idea of our personality is that of a being not under the law of cause and effect, a being supernatural. This one point clearly apprehended, all the difficulties of our subject are at once relieved, if not absolutely and completely removed. If any one is startled or shocked by what appears to be the extravagance of this position, let him recur to our definition; viz., that nature is that world of substance, whose laws are laws of cause and effect, and whose events transpire, in orderly succession, under those laws; the supernatural is that range of substance, if any such there be, that acts upon the chain of cause and effect in nature from without the chain, producing, thus, results that, by mere nature, could not come to pass. It is not said, be it observed, as is sometimes done, that the supernatural implies a suspension of the laws of nature, a causing them, for the time, not to be that, perhaps, is never done-it is only said that we, as powers, not in the line of cause and effect, can set the causes in nature at work, in new combinations otherwise never occurring, and produce, by our action upon nature, results which she, as nature, could never produce by her own internal acting. Illustrations are at hands without number. Thus, nature, for example, never made a pistol, or gunpowder, or pulled a trigger; all which being done, or procured to be 43 SUPERNATURAL ACTION done, by the criminal, in his act of murder, he is hung for what is rightly called his unnatural deed. So of things not criminal; nature never built a house, or modeled a ship, or fitted a coat, or invented a steam-enlgine, or wrote a book, or framed a constitution. These are all events that spring out of human liberty, acting in and upon the realm of cause and effect, to produce results and combinations, which mere cause and effect could not; and, at some point of the process in each, we shall be found coming down upon nature, by an act of sovereignty just as peremptory and mysterious as that which is discovered in a miracle, only that a miracle is a similar coming down upon it from another and higher being, and not from ourselves. Thus, for example, in the firing of the pistol, we find materials brought together and compounded for making an explosive gas, an arrangement prepared to strike a fire into the substance compounded, an arm pulled back to strike the fire, muscles contracted to pull back the arm, a nervous telegraph running down from the brain, by which some order has been sent to contract the muscles; and then, hiaving come to the end of the chain of natural causes, the jury ask, who sent the mandate down upon the nervous telegraph, ordering the said contraction? And, having found, as their true answer, that the arraigned criminal did it, they offer this as their verdict, and on the strength of the verdict he is hung. Hie had, in other words, a power to set in order a line of causes and effects, existing elementally in nature, and then, by a sentence of his will, to start the line, doing his unnatural deed of murder. If it be inquired how he.was able to command the nervous tele graph in this manner, we can not tell, any more than we can show the manner of a miracle. The same is true in 44 FAMILIAR. regard to all our most common actions. If one simply lifts a weight, overcoming, thus far, the great law of gravity, we may trace the act mechanically back in the same way; and if we do it, we shall come, at last, to the mari acting in his personal arbitrament, and shall find him sending down his mandate to the arm, summoning its contractions and sentencing the weight to rise. In which, as we perceive, he has just so much of power given him to vary the incidents and aetings of nature as determined by her own laws-so much, that is, of power supernatural. And so all the combinations we make in the harnessing of nature's powers imply, in the last degree, thoughts, mandates of will, that are, at some point, peremptory over the.motions by which we handle, and move, and shape, and combine the substances and causes of the world. And to what extent we may go on to alter, in this manner, the composition of the world, few persons appear to consider. For example, it is not absurd to imagine the human race, at some future time, when the population and the works of industry are vastly increased, kindling so many fires, by putting wood and coal in contact with fire, as to burn up or fatally vitiate the world's atmosphere. That the condition of nature will, in fact, be so far changed by human agency, is probably not to be feared. We only say that human agency, in its power over nature, holds, or may well enough be imagined to hold, the sovereignty of the process. Meantime, it is even probable, as a matter of fact, that infections and pestilential diseases invading, every now and then, some order of vegetable or animal life, are referable, in the last degree, to something done upon the world by man. For indeed we shall show, before we have done,. that the scheme of nature itself 45 I THE WILL IS NOT is a scheme unstrung and mistuned, to a very great degree, by maii's agency in it, so as to be rather unnature, after all, than nature; and, for just that reason, demanding of God, even for system's sake, in the highest range of that term, miracle and redemption. Suffice it, for the present, simply to clear, as well as we are able, this main point, the fact of a properly supernatural power in man. Thus, some one, going, backl to the act by which the pistol was fired, will imagine, after all, that the murderer's act in the firing was itself caused in him by some condition back of what we call his choice, as truly as the explosion of the powder was caused by the fire. Then, why not blame the powder, we answer, as readily as the man-which most juries would have some difficulty in doing, though none at all in blaming the man? The nature of the objection is purely imaginary, as, in fact, the common sense, if we should not rather say the common consciousness of the word decides; for we are all conscious of acting from ourselves, uncaused in our action. The murderer knows within himself that he did the deed, and that nothing else did it through him. So his consciousness testifies-so the consciousness of every man revising his actions-and no real philosopher will ever undertake to substitute the verdict of consciousness, by another, which he has arrived at only by speculation, or a logical practice in words. The sentence of consciousness is final. HIence the absurd and really blamable ingenuity of those would-be philosophers who, not content with the clear, indisputable report of consciousness in such a case, go on to ask whether the wrong-doer of any kind was not acting, in his wrong, under motives and determined by 46 A SCALE-BEAM. the strongest motives, and, since he is a being made to act in this mnanner, whether, after all, lie really acted himself, any more than other natural substances do whlen they yield to the strongest cause? Doubtless he acted under motives, and probably enough he felt beside that half his crime was in his motive, being that which his own bad heart supplied. The matter of the strongest motive is more doubtful; but, if it be true, in every case, that the wrong-dcloer chooses wvlat to him is the strongest motive, it by no means follows thlat hlie acts in the way of a scale-beam, swayed by the heaviest weight; for the strength of the motive may consciously be derived, in great part, firom what his own perversity puts into it; and, what is more, he may be as fully conscious that he acts, in every case, from himself, in pure self-determination, as he would be if he acted for no motive at all. Consciously he is not a scale-beam, or any passive thiing, but a self-determining agent; and if he looks out always for the strongest motive, he still as truly acts from his own personal arbitrament as if he were always pursuilig the weakest. it does not, hiowever, appear, from any evidence we can discover, that lhumnan action is determined uniformly by the strongest motive. That is the doctrine of Edwards, in his famous treatise on the will,* but as for as there is any * The fortunes of this Treatise, in the world of morals and religion, have been quite as remarkable as the puzzle it has raised in the world of letters. The immediate object of the writer was gained, and the fatitli of God's eternal government, assailed by a crazy scheme of liberty which brought in open question the divine foreknowledge and the proper self-understanding of God in his plan, w-as effectually vindicated. So far the argument availed to serve the genuine purposes of religiop. But, from that day to this, passing over to the side opposite, it has been turned more and more disastrously against the christian truth. and even against the first principles -,f moral 47 NOT DETERMINED BY appearance of force in his argument, it consists in the inference drawn, or judgment passed, after any act of choice, that the inducing motive must have been tnhe strongest because it prevailed. Whereas, appealing to his simple consciousness, he would have found that he had never a thought of the Superior strength of the motive chosen, before the choice; and that, when he ascertained the fact of its superiority, it was only by an inference or speculative judgment drawn from the choice-just as some harvester, noting the heavy perspiration that drenches his body in the field, will judge from such a sign that he must be dissolving with heat; when the real sense of his body, wiser and truer than his logic, is that he is being cooled. And what, moreover, if it should happen that Edwards, in his inference, is only carrying over into the world of ntind a judgment formed in the world of matter; subjecting human souls to the analogy of scale-beams, and concluding that, since nature yields to the strongest force, the supernatural must do the same. Meantime, what is the consciousness testifying? Here is the whole question. There is no place here for a volume, or even for the obligation. Priestly was an implicit believer in the doctrine, holding it as the foundation principle of a scheme of necessity which could hardly be said to leave a real placa for duty in the world. And now, in our own day, it has descended to the level of the subterranean infidelity, and become a familiar and standing argument with almost every moral outcast, who has thought enough in him to know that he is annoyed by the distinctions of virtue. Having turned philosopher on just this point and shown that we are all governed by the strongest motive, he asks, with an air of triumph, where, then, is the place for blame? What do we all but just what we are made to do? Could Edwards return to look on the uses now made of his argument, his saintly spirit might posibly be stirred with some doubts of its validity. Compare the able statement of this subject by Harris.-(Prnimeval Aen, 100 Sec. VI. 48 0 THE STRONGEST MOTIVE. amount of a syllogism. Find what the consciousness test ifies and that, all tricks of argument apart, is the truth. Taking, then, this simple issue, the verdict we are quite sure is against the doctrine of Edwards; viz., that, in all wrong, or blamable action, we consciously take the weakest motive and most worthless; and, partly for that reason, blame our own folly and perversity. It may be that the good rejected stands superior only before our rational con victions, while the enticement followed stirs more actively our lusts and passions. Still we know, and believe, and deeply feel, at the time,-we even shudder it may be in the choice, at the sense of our own perversity-that we are choosing the worst and meanest thing, casting away the gold and grasping after the dirt. Probably a good many crude-minded persons, little capable of reporting the true verdict of their consciousness, would answer immediately, after any such act of choice, that they made it because the motive was strongest; for every most vulgar mind is so far under the great law of dynamics as to judge that whatever force prevails must be the strongest. Besides, how,could he be a reasonable being if he chose the weakest motive; therefore it must be that he chose the strongest. So it stands, not as any report of consciousness, but simply as a must be of the logical understanding. Whereas, the real sin of the choice was exactly this and nothing else, that the wrong-doer followed after the weakest and worst, and did not act as a reasonable being should; and that is what his consciousness, if he could get far back enough into the sense of the moment, would report. Nor does it vary at all the conclusion that a wrong-doer clooses the weakest motive, to imagine, with many loose-nLi ided teachers, that the right is only postponed, and the wrong 5 49 THE WILIL NOT UNDER chosen for the moment, with a view to secure the double benefit, both of the right and the wrong; for the real question, at the time, is, in every such case, whether it is wisest, best, and every way most advantageous, to make the delay and try for the double benefit; and no man ever yet believed that it was. Never was there a case of wrong or sinful choice, in which the agent believed that he was really choosing the strongest, or weightiest and most valuable motive.* So far, then, is man from being any proper item of * A certain class of theologians may, perhaps, imagine that such a view of choice takes away the ground of the Divine foreknowledge. Hfow can God foreknow what choices men may form, when, for aught that appears, they as often choose against the strongest motive as with it? Hle could not foreknow any thing, we answer, under such conditions, if he were obliged to find out future things, as the astronomers make out almanacs, by computation. But le is a being, not who computes, but who, by the eternal necessity even of his nature, intuits every thing. His foreknowledge does not depend on his will, or the adjustment of motives to make us will thus or thus, but he foreknows every thing first conditionally, in the world of possibility, before he creates, or determines any thing to be, in the world of fact. Otherwise, all his purposes would be grounded in ignorance, not in wisdom, and his knowledge would consist in following after his will, to learn what his will las blindly determined. This is not the scripture doctrine, which grounds all the purposes of God in his wisdom; that is, in what he perceives by his eternal intuitive foreknowledge of what is contained in all possible systems and combinations before creation-" whom he did foreknow, them he also did predestinate "-" elect, according to the foreknowledge of God." If, then, God foreknows, or intuitively knows, all that is in the possible system and the possible man, without calculation, he can have little difficulty, after that, in foreknowing the actual man, who is nothing but the possible in the world of possibles, set on foot and become actual in the world of ac tuals. So far, therefore, as the doctrine of Edwards was contrived to sup port the certainty of God's foreknowledge, and lay a basis for the systematic government of the world and the universal sovereignty of God's purposes, it appears to be quite unnecessary. 50 CAUSE AND EFFECT. nature. Ite is under no law of cause and effect in his choices. He stands out clear and sovereign as a being supernatural, and his definition is that he is an original power, acting, not in the line of causality, but from him self. He is not independent of nature in the sense of being separated from it in his action, but he is in it, envi roned by it, acting through it, partially sovereign over it, always sovereign as regards his self-determination, and. only not completely sovereign as regards executing all that he wvills in it. In certain parts or departments of the soul itself, such as memory, appetite, passion, attention, imagination, association, disposition, the will-power in him is held in contact, so to speak, with conditions and qualities that are dominated partly by laws of cause and effect; for these faculties are partly governed by their own laws, and partly submitted to his governing will by their own laws; so that when he will exercise any control over them, or turn them about to serve his purpose, he can do it, in a qualified sense and degree, by operating through their laws. As far as they are concerned, he is pure nature, and.he is only a power superior to cause and effect at the particular point of volition where his liberty culminates, and where the administration he is to maintain over his whole nature centers. It is also a part of the same general view that, as all functions of the soul but the will are a nature, and are only qualifiedly subjected to the will by their laws, the will, without ever being restricted in its self-determination, will often be restricted, as regards executive force to perform what it wills. In this matter Qf executive force or capacity, we are under physiological and cerebral limitations; 'imitations of association5 want, condition; limitations of 51 EXECUTIVE FORCE miseducated thought, perverted sensibility, prejudice, superstition, a second niature of evil habit and passion; by which, plainly enough, our capacity of doing or becoming is greatly reduced. This, in fact, is the grand, all-conditioning truth of Christianity itself; viz., that man has no ability, in himself and by merely acting in himself, to become right and perfect; and that, hence, without some extension to him from without and above, some approach and ministration that is supernatural, he can never become what his own ideals require. And therefore it is the more remarkable that so many are ready, in all ages, to take up the notion, and are even doing it now, as a fresh discovery, that these stringent limitations on our capacity take away the liberty of our will. As if the question of executive force, the ability to make or become, had any thing to do with our self-determining liberty! At the point of the will itself we may still be as free, as truly original and self-active, as if we could do or execute all that we would; otherwise, freedom would be impossible, except on the condition of being omnipotent; and even then, as in due time we shlall see, would be environed by many insuperable necessities. As long ago as when Paul found it present with him to will, but could not find how to perform, this distinction between volitional self-determination and executive capacity began to be recognized, and has been recognized and stated, in every subsequent age, till now. No one is held, even for a moment, to a bad and wrong selfdetermination, simply because he has not the executive force to will himself into an angel, or because he can not become, nnhelped, and at once, all that he would He is therefore still a fair subject of blame; partly because he has narrowed his capacities, or possibilities, of doing or be 52 UNDER LIMIITATIONS. coming, by his former sin, and partly because he conlsciously does not will the right and struggle after God now; which he is under perfst obligation to do, because the terms of duty are absolute or unconditional; and, if possible, still more perfect because he has helps of grace and favor put in his reach, to be laid hold of, which, if he accepts them, will infallibly medicate the disabilities he is under. That mankind, as being under sin, are under limitations of executive ability, unable to do and become all that is re quired of them by their highest ideals of thought, is then no new doctrine. Christianity is based in the fact of such a disability, and affirms it constantly as a fact that creates no infringement of responsibility and personal liberty at all, as regards the particular sphere of the will itself. And therefore it will not be expected of any Christian that he will be greatly impressed by what are sometimes offered now as original and peremptory decisions against human liberty, grounded in the fact that man is not omnipotentnot able to do or become, what he is able to think. Thus we have the following, offered as a final disposal of the qiucstion of liberty, by a very brilliant, entertaining, and often very acute writer:-" Do you want an image of the human will, or the self-determining principle, as coinpared with its prearranged and impossible restrictions? A drop of water imprisoned in a crystal; you may see such a one in any mineralogical collection. One little particle in the crystalline prism of the solid universe. * The chief planes of its inclosing solid are of course organization, education, condition. Organization may reduce the will to nothing, as in some idiots; and, from this zero, the scale mounts upward, by slight gradations. Education is Dnly second to nature. Imagine all the 53 .5 * 54 SELF-DETERMINATION STILL infants born this year in Boston and Timbuetoo to change places! Condition does less, but "Give me neither poverty nor riches" was the prayer o, Agur, and with good reason. If there is any improvement in modern theology, it is in getting out of the region of pure abstractions, and taking these every-day forces into account." * It may have been a fault of the former times that, in judgmenits of human character and conduct, no sufficient allovwance was made for these "every-day forces" and others which might be named; if so, let the mistake be corrected; but to ima,gine that the freedom, or self-determining liberty of the human will is to be settled by any such external references, even starts the suspicion that the idea itself of the will has not yet arrived. So when the doctrine is located as being a something in "the region of pure abstractions," because it is not found by some scalpel inspection, or out-door hunt in the social conditions of life. What can be further off from all abstractions than the immediate, living, central, all-dominating consciousness of our own self-activity? Is consciousness an abstraction? Is any thing further off from abstractions, or more impossible to be classed with them? On the contrary, the very conceit here allowed, that a great question of consciousness may be settled by external processes of deduction, and by generalizations that do not once touch the fiact, is only an attempt to make an abstraction of it. And yet, after it is done and seems to be finally disposed of in that manner, after the discovery is fully made out that our self-determining will is only "a drop of water imprisoned in a crystal, one little particle in the crystalline prism of the solid universe," who is there, not excepting the just now very *Atlantic lMonLhly, Feb., 1858, p. 464. A FACT OF CONSCIOUSNESS. mnuch humbled discoverer himself, who does not know, every day of lhis life, and does not show, a thousand times a day, that he has the sense in him of something different? Even if he does no more than humorously dub himself Autocrat of the Breakfast Table, it will be sufficiently plain that his autocracy is a much more considerable figure with him than a drop of water in a crystal. He most evidently imagines somre presiding and determining mind at the Table, that is much more of a reality and much less of an abstraction. Andl so it will be found universally that, however stroongly drawn the supposed disadvantages and hindrances to virtue may be, there is, in every mind, a large and positive consciousness of being master of its own choices and responsible for them. A translation from Boston to Timbuctoo will not anywise alter the fact. There was never a man, however niiseducated, or suppressed by his necessities, or corrupted by bad associations, or misled by base examples, who had not still his moral coinvictions, and did not blame himself in wrongs committecld. So firm, and full, and indestructible is this inborn, moral autocracy of the soul, that, as certainly in Timbuctoo as in Boston, it takes upon itself the sentence of wrong, and no matter what inducements there may have been, no matter how brutalized the practices in which it had been trained, recognizes still the sovereignty of right, and blames itself in every known deviation from it. iHis judg,ment of what particular things are necessary to fulfill the great idea of right may be coarse, and, as we should say, mistaken; but he acknowledges, in the deepest con%-ictions of his nature, that nothing done against the eternal, necessary law of ri,ght can be justified. The fact 65 HENCE ALL 6RtEATNESS that his wild nature is so nearly untamable to right, or that being or becoming the perfect good he thinks, is so far off from his capac'ty, so nearly impossible under his executive limitations, is really nothing. Still he must, and does, condemn the bad liberty allowed in every conscious wrong. Self-determination, therefore, as respects the mere will as a power of volition, is essentially indestructible. And it is this gift of power, this originative liberty, constituting, as it does, the central attribute of all personality, that gives us impressions of what is personal in character, so different from those which we derive from any thing natural. Hence, for example, it is that we look on the nobler demonstrations of character in man, with a feeling so different from any that can be connected with mere cause and effect. In every friend we distinguish something more than a distillation of natural causes; a free, faithful soul, that, having a power to betray, stays fast in the integrity of love and sacrifice. We rejoice in heroic souls, and in every hero we discover a majestic spirit, how fa r transcending th e merely instinctive and necessary actings of animal and vegetable life. iHe stands out in the flood of the world's causes, strong in his resolve, not knowing, in a ju st fight, how to yield, but protesting, with Coriolanus, Let the Volsces Plow Rome and harrow Italy, I'll never Be such a gosling as to obey instinct, but stand, As if a man was author of himself, And knew no other kin. Hence the honor we so profusely yield to the martyrs, who are God's heroes; able, as in freedom, to yield their .56 IN CHARACTER. flesh up in the fires of testimony, and sing themselves away in the smoke of their consuming bodies. Were they a part only of nature, and held to this by the law of cause and effect in nature, we should have as much reason to honor their christian fortitude, as we have to honor the combustion of a fire; even that which kindled their faggots:-as much and not more. Such is the sense we have of all great character in men. We look upon them, not as wheels that are turned by natural causes, yielding their natural effects, as the flour is yielded by a mill, but what we call their character is the majestic proprium of their personality, that which they yield as the fruit of their glorious self-hood and immortal liberty. What, otherwise, can those triumphal arches mean, arranged for the father of his country, now on his way to be inaugurated as its First Magistrate? what those processions of women, strewing the way with flowers? what the thundering shouts of men, seconding their voices by the boom of cannon posted on every hill? Why this thrill of emotion just now running electrically throgh so many millions of hearts toward this single man? It is the reverence they feel, and can not fitly express, to personal greatness and heroic merit in a great cause. WVere our Washington conceived in that cause of good and great action, by which he became the deliverer of his country, to be the mere distillation of natural causes, who of us would allow himself to be thrilled with any such sentiments of reverence and personal homage? It is no mere wheel, no link in a chain, that stirs our blood in this manner; but it is a man, the sense we have of a man, rising out of the level of things, great above all th,in7s, great as being himself. Here it is, in demonstrations like these, that 57 WE OURSELVES, THEN we meet the spontaneous verdict of mankind, apart from..1i theories, and quibbles-, and sophistries of argument, testifying that man is a creature out of mere nature-a free cause in himself-great, therefore, in the majesty of great virtues and heroic acts. The same is true, as we may safely assume, in regard to all the other orders and realms of spiritual existence; to angels good and bad, seraphim, principalities, and powers in heavenly places. They are all supernatural, and it is in them, as belonging to this higher class of existences, that God beholds the final causes, the uses, and the grand systematizing ideas of his universal plan. Nature, as comprehending the domain of cause and effect, is only the platform on which he establishes his kingdom as a kingdom of mninds, or persons, every one of whom has power to act upon it, and, to some extent, greater or less, to be sovereign over it. So that, after all which has been done by the sensuous littleness, the shallow pride, and the idolatry of science, to make a total universe, or even a God, of nature, still it is nothing but the carpet on which we children have our play, and which we may only use according to its design, or may cut, and burn, and tear at will. The true system of God centers still in us, and not in it; in our management, our final glory and completeness of being as persons, not in the set figures of the carpet we so eagerly admire and call it science to ravel. Finding, now, in this manner, that we ourselves are supernatural creatures, and that the supernatural, instead of being some distant, ghostly affair, is familiar to us as our own most famiiliar action; also, that nature, as a realm of cause and effect, is made to be acted on from without 58 ARE SUPERNATURAL AGENTS. by us and all moral beings-thus to be the environment of our life, the instrument of our activity, the medium of our right or wrong doing toward each other, and so the school of our trial-a further question rises; viz., what shall we think of God's relations to nature? If it be nothing incredible that we should act on the chain of cause and effect in nature, is it more incredible that God should thus act? Strange as it may seem, this is the grand offense of supernaturalism, the supposing that God can act on nature from without; on the chain of cause and effect in nature from without the chain of connection, by which natural consequences are propagated-exactly that which we ourselves are doing as the most familiar thing in our lives! It involves, too, as, we can see at a glance, and shall hereafter show more fully, no disruption, by us, of the laws of nature, but only a new combination of its elements and forces, and need not any more involve such a disruption by Him. Nor can any one show that a miracle of Christ, the raising, for example, of Lazarus, involves any thing more than that nature is prepared to be aeed on by a divine power, just as it is to be acted on by a human, in the makgin of gunpowder, or the making and chargingc, of a fire-arm. For, though there seems to be an immense difference in the grade of the results accomplished, it is only a difference which ought to appear, regarding the grade of the two agents by whom they are wrought. Howv different the power of two men, creatures though they be of the same order; a Newton, for example, a Watt, a Fulton; and some wild Patagonian or stunted Esquimaux. So, if there be angels, seraphim, thrones, dominions, all in ascending scales of endowment above one another, they will, of course, have bowers supernatu 59 SO ALSO IS GOD, ral, or capacities to act on the lines of causes in nature, that correspond with their natural quantity and degree. What wonder, then, is it, in the case of Jesus Christ, that hle reveals a power over nature, appropriate to the scale of his being and the inherent supremacy of his divine person. And yet, it will not do, our philosophers tell us, to ad mit any such thing as a miracle, or that any thing does, or can, take place by a divine power, which nature itself does not bring to pass! God, in other words, can not be supposed to act on the line of cause and effect in nature; for nature is the universe, and the law of universal order makes a perfect system. Hence a great many of our nat uralists, who admit the existence of God, and do not mean to identify his substance with nature, and call him the Creator, and honor him, at least in words, as the Governor of all things, do yet insist that it must be unphilosophictt to suppose any present action of God, save what is acted in and through the preordained system of nature. The author of the Vestiges of Creation, for example, (p. 118,) looks on cause and effect as being the eternal will of God, and nature as the all-comprehensive order of his Providence, beside which, or apart fronm which, he does, and can be supposed to do, nothing. A great many who call themselves Christian believers, really hold the same thing, and can suffer nothing different. Nature, to such, includes man. God and nature, then, are the all of existence, and there is no acting of God upon nature; for that would be supernaturalism. He may be the originative source of nature; he may even be the immediate, all-impelling will, of which cause and effect are the symptoms; that is he may have made, and may actuate the machine, 60 OTHERWISE A NULLITY, in that fated, foredoomed way which cause and effect describes, but he must not act upon the machine-system outside of the foredoomed way; if he does, he will disturb the immutable laws! In fact, he has no liberty of doing any thing, but just to keep agoing the everlasting trundle of the machine. He can not even act upon his workls, save as giving and maintaining the natural law of his works; which law is a limit upon Him, as truly as a bond of order upon them. He is incrusted and shurt in by his own ordinances. Nature is the god above God, and he can not cross her confines. His ends are all in nature; for, outside of nature, and beyond, there is nothing but Himself. IHe is only a great mechanic, who has made a great machine for the sake of the machine, having his work all done long ages ago. MIoral government is out of the question-there is no government but the predestined rolling of the machine. If a man sins, the sin is only the play of cause and effect; that is, of the machine. If he repents, the same is true-sin, repentance, love, hope, joy, are all developments of cause and effect; that is, of the machine. If a soul gives itself to God in love, the love is but a grinding-out of some wheel he has set turning, or it may be turns, in the scheme of nature. If I look up to him and call him Father, he can only pity the conceit of my filial feeling, knowing that it is attributable to nothing but the run of mere necessary cause and effect in me, and is no more, in fact, from me, than the rising of a mist or cloud is from some buoyant freedom in its particles. If I look up to him for help and deliverance, Hte can only hand me over to cause and effect, of which I am a link myself, and bid me stay in my place to be what I am made t() be. He can touch me by no 6 61 A BEING ENTOMBED extension of sympathy, and I must even break through nature (as He Himself* can not,) to obtain a look of recognition. How miserable a desert is existence, both to Him and to us, under such conditions-to IIim, because of his character; to us, because of our wants. To be thus entombed in his works, to have no scope for his virtues, no field for his perfections, no ends to seek, no liberty to act, save in the mechanical way of mere causality-what could more effectually turn his goodness into a well-spring of baffled desires and defeated sympathies, and make His glory itself a baptism of sorrow. 3feantime the supposition is, to us, a mockery, against which all our deepest wants and highest personal affinities are raised up, as it were, in mutinous protest. If there is nothing but God and nature, and God Himself has no relations to nature, save just to fill it and keep it on its way, thea, being ourselves a part of nature, we are only a link, each one, in a chain let down into a well, where nothing else can ever touch us but the next link above! 0, it is horrible! Our soul freezes at the thought! We want, we must have, something better-a social footing, a personal, and free, and flexible, and conscious relation with our God; that he should cross over to us, or bring us over the dark Styx of nature unto Himself, to love Him, to obtain His recognition, to receive His manifestation, to walk in HIis guidance, and be raised to that higher footing of social understanding and spiritual concourse with Him, where our iniiborn affinities find their center and rest. And what we earnestly want, we know that we shall assuredly find. The prophecy is in us, and whether we call 62 IN HIS WOJRKS. ourselves prophets or not, we shall certainly go on to publish it. It is the inevitable, first fact of natural conviction with us. Do we not knowr, each one, that he is more than a thing or a wheel, and, being consciously a man, a spirit, a creature supernatural, will he hesitate to claim a place with such, and claim for such a place? 63 CICHAPTER III. NATURE 1S NOT THE SYSTEM OF GOD.-THINGS AND POW ERS, HO0W RELATED. GOD is expressed but not measured by his works; least of all, by the substances and laws included under the general term, nature. And yet, how liable are we, overpowered, as we often are, and oppressed by the magnitudes of nature, to suffer the impression that there can be nothing separate and superior, beyond nature. The eager mind of science, for example, sallying forth on excursions of thought into the vast abysses of worlds, discovering tracks of light that must have been shooting downward and away from their sources, even for millions of ages, to have now arrived at their mark; and then discovering also that, by such a reach of computation, it has not penetrated to the center, but only reached the margin or outmost shore of the vast fire-ocean, whose particles are astronomic worlds, falls back spent, and, having, as it were, no spring left for another trial, or the endeavor of a stronger flight,. surrenders, overmastered and helpless, crushed into silence. At such an hour, it is any thing but a wonder that nature is taken for the all, the veritable system of God; beyond which, or collateral with which, there is nothing. For so long a time is science imposed upon by nature, not instructed by it; as if there could be nothing greater than distance, measure, quantity, and show, nothing higher than the formal platitude of things. But the healthy, living mind will, sooner or later, recover itself. It will spring up out of this prostration before nature, to imagine other things, which eye NATURAL MAGNITUDES OPPRESSIVE. 65 hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor science computed. It will discover fires, even in itself, that flame above the stars. It will break over and through the narrow confines of stellar organization, to conceive a spiritual Kosmos, or divine system, which contains, and uses, and is only shadowed in the faintest manner by, the prodigious trivialities of external substance. Indeed, I think all minds unsophisticated by science, or not disempowered by external magnitudes, will conceive God as a being whose fundamental plan, whose purpose, end, and system are nowise measured by that which lies in dimension, even though the dimensions be measureless. They will say with Zophar still,-"The measure thereof is longer than the earth and broader than the sea." And the real, proper universe of God, that which is to God the final cause of all things, will be to them a realm so far transcending the outward immensity, both in quantity and kind, that this latter will be scarcely more than some outer gate of approach, or eyelet of observation. What I propose, then, in the present chapter, coincidently with the strain of remark here indulged, is to undertake a negative, showing (what, in fact, is decisive upon the whole question,) that the surrender of so many minds to nature and her magnitudes is premature and weak; that nature plainly is not, and can not be, the proper and complete system of God; or, if we speak no more of God, of the universe. It would seem that any really thoughtful person, when about to surrender himself to nature, in the manner just Jescribed, must be detained by a simple glance at the manifest yearning of the human race, in all ages and 0 0 6* HITMAN NATURE CRAVES nations, for something supernatural. Their affinity for objects supernatural is far more evident, as a matter of history, than for objects scientific and natural. Instead of reducing their gods and religions to the terms of nature, they have peopled nature with gods, and turned even their agriculture into a concert, or concurrence, with the unseen powers and their ministries. Witness, in this view, the immense array of mythologic and formally unrational religions, extinct or still existing, that have been accepted by the populations of the world. Notiee in particular also, that, when the keen dialectics of the polished Greeks and Romaus had cut away the foundations of their religions, instead of lapsing into the cold no-religion of the Sophists, the cultivated mind of their scholars and philosophers passed straight by the boasted reason, to lay hold of Christianity; atid Christianity, more rational but in no degree less supernatural than the religions overturned, was accepted as the common faith. And what is not less remarkable, Christianity itself, as if not supernatural enough, was corrupted by the addition of still new wonders pertaining to the virgin, the priesthood, the sacraments, and even the bones of the saints; indicated all, and some of them (such as that Mary is the Mother of God,) generated even, by dialectic processes. And so it ever has been. Men can as well subsist in a vacuum, or on a mere metallic earth, attended by no vegetable or animal products, as they can stay content with mere cause and effect, and the endless cycle of nature. They may drive themselves into it, for the moment, by their speculations; but the iesert is too dry, and the air too thin they can not stay. Accordingly, we find that just now, when the propensities to mere naturalism are so manifold and 66 A SUPERNATURAL RELIGION. eager, they are yet instigated in their eagerness itself by an impulse that scorns all the bouhdarics of ramere knowl edge and reason; that is, by an appetite for things of faith, or a hope of yet fresher miracles and greater mysteries — gazing after the Boreal crown of Fourier, and the thaw ing out of the poles under the heat of so great felicity to come; or watlching at the gate of some third heaven to be opened by the magnetic passes, or the solemnii incantations of the magic circles; expecting an irruption of demons, in the name of science, more fantastic than even that which plaguedl the world in the days of Christ, and which so many critics, in the name also of science, were just now laboria'i most intently to weed out of the gospel history. True, the magnetic revelations arc said to be in the way of inature; no matter for that, if only they are wonderful enough; all the better, indeed, if they give us things super,iatural to enjoy and live in, without the name. Ouly nwe must have mysteries, and believe, and take wing(,s, and fly clear of the dull level of comprehensible cause and substance, somehow. Such is man, such are we all. We are like the poet Shelley, who, after he had sunk into blank ttheism, as regards religion, could not stay content, but began forthwith to people his brain and the world with griffins, and gorgons, and animated rings, and fiery serpents, and spirits of water and wind, andl became, in fact, the most mythologic of all modern poets; only that he mail his mythologic machinery himself, out of the de]irious shapes exhaledcl from the deep atheistic hlunger of his soul. And the new Mormlon faith, or fanaticism, that strange'st phenomenon of our times-what is it, in Act, but a breaking loose by the human soul, pressed 67 SHELLEY'S MYTHOLOG'Y. down by ignorance and unbelief together, to find some element of miracle and mystery, in which it may range and feed its insatiable appetite; a raw and truculent imposture of supernaturalism, dug up out of the earth but yesterday, which, just because it is not under reason and is held by no stays of opinion, kindles the fires of the soul's eternity to a pitch of fierceness and a really devastating energy. And were the existing faith of powers unseen and worlds above the world of science blotted out, leaving us shut down under atheism, or mere nature, and gasping in the dull vacuum it makes, I verily believe that we should instantly begin to burst up all into Mormonism, or some other newly invented faith, no better authenticated. Into this same gasping state, in fact, we are thrown by our new school of naturalistic literature, and we can easily distinguish, in the conscious discontent that nullifies both our pleasure and praise, the fact of some transcendent, inborn affinity, by which we are linked to things above the range of mere nature..//Who is a finer master of English than Mr. Emerson? Who offers fresher thoughts, in shapes of beauty more fascinating? Intoxicated by his brilliant creations, the reader thinks, for the time, that he is getting inspired. And yet, wen he has closed the essay or the volume, he is surprised to findwho has ever failed to notice it?-that he is disabled instead, disempowered, reduced in tone. iHe has no great thought or purpose in him; and the force or capacity for it seems to be gone. Surely, it is a wonderfully clear atmosphere that he is in, and yet it is somehow mephitic! HIow could it be otherwise? As it is a first principle that water will not rise above its own level, -what better reason 68 0 EMERSON'S BRAMINISM. is there to expect flat a creed which disowns duty and turns achievement into a conceit of"destiny, will bring to man those great thoughts, and breathe upon him in those gales of impulse, which are necessary to the empowered state, whether of thought or of action. Grazing, in the field of nature is not enough for a being whose deepest affinities lay hold of the supernatural, and reach after God. Airy and beautiful the field may be, shown by so great a master; full of goodly prospects and fascinating images; but, withcut a living God, and objects of faith, and terms of duty, it is a pasture only-nothing more. Hence the unreadiness, the almost aching incapacity felt to undertake any thing or become any thing, by one who has taken lessons at this school. Nature is the all, and nature will do every thing, whether we will or no. Call it duty, greatness, heroism, still it is hers, and she will have more of it when she pleases. If, then, nature does not set him on also, and do all in him, there is an end; what can he expect to do in the name of duty, faith, sacrifice, and high resolve, when nature is not in the plan? Wha better, indeed, is there left him, or more efficient, than just to think beautiful thoughts, if he can, and surrender himself to the luxury of watching the play of his own reflective egoism? Given Brama for a god and a religion, what is left us more certainly than that we ourselves become Asiatics? Such kind of influence would turn the race to pismires, if only we could stay content in it, as happily we can not; for, if we chance to find our pleasure in it for an hour, a doom as strong as eternity in us compels us finally to spurn it, as a brilliant inanity. But we are going further with our point than we intended. Admitting the universal tendency of the race 69 THE HOST IN OPPOSITION in past ages, to a faith in things supernatural, it maty be imagined by some that, as we advance in culture, we must finally reach a stage, where reason will enforce a different demand; they may even return upon us the list we gave, in our introductory chapter, of the parties now conspiring the overthrow of a supernatural faith, requiring us to accept them as proofs that the more advanced stage of culture is now about to be reached. In that case, it is enough to answer that the naturalizing habit of our times is clearly no indication of any such new stage of advancement, but only a phase of social tendency once before displayed in the negative and destructive era of the Greek and Roman religions; also that the grand conspiracy, exhibited in our own time, signifies much less than it would, if, after all, there were any real agreement among the parties. Thus it will be found that, while they seem to agree in the assumption that nature includes every thing, and also to show by their imposing air of concert that in this way the world must needs gravitate, there is yet, if we scan them more carefully, no such agreement as indicates any solid merit in their opinion, or even such as may properly entitle them to respect. Thus we find, first of all, a threefold distribution among them that sets them in as many schools, or tiers, between which there is almost nothing in common; one section or school maintaining that nature is God, another that it is originally the work of God, and a third that there is no God. If nature itself is God, then plainly God is not the Creator of nature by his own sovereign act; and if there is no God&, then he is neither nature nor its Creatur. Their agreement, therefore, includes nothing but a point of denial especting the supernatural 70 0 ALSO CONTRADICT EACII OTHER. maintained for wholly opposite and contradictory reasons. So, as regards religion itself; to som'e it is a natural effect or growth in souls, and in that view a fact that evinces the real sublimity of nature; while to others it is itself a matter only of contempt, a creation of priestly artifice, or an excrescence of blind superstition. One, again, believes in the personality, responsibility, and immortality of souls, finding a moral government in nature, and even what he calls a gospel; another, that man is a mere link in the chain of causalities, like the insects, responsibility a fiction, eternity a fond illusion; and still another that, being a mere link in the chain of causalities, he will yet forever be, and be happy in the consciousness that he is. The contrarieties, in short, are endless, and accordingly the weight of their apparent concert, when set against the general vote and appetite of the race for something supernatural, is wholly insignificant. If it be a token of advancing culture, it certainly is not any token that a wiser ag,e of reason or scientific understanding is yet reached; and the grand major vote of the race, for a supernatural faith, is nowise weakened by it. Still it is a fact, the universal fact of history, that man is a creature of faith, and can not rest in mere nature and natural causality. Nothing will content him in the faith that nature is the all, or universal system of being. But the indications we discover within the realm of nature, or of cause and effect, are more striking even than those which we discover in the demonstrations of our own history. We have spoken,iof a system supernatural, superior to the system of nature, and subordinating always the latter to itself; understanding, however, that I i NATURE ITSELF OFFERS TYPES both together, in the truest and most proper sense, constitute the real universal system of God. Now, as if to show us the possibility, and familiarize to us the fact of a subordination thus of one system and its laws to the uses and superior behests of another, we have, in the domain of nature herself, two grand systems of chemistry, or chemical force and action; one of which comes down upon the other, always from without, to dominate over it, decomposing substances which the other has composed, producing substances which the other could not. We speak here, it will be understood, of what is called inorganic chemistry, and vital chemistry, the chemistry of matter out of life or below it, and of that which is in it and by it. The lives that construct and organize the bodies they inhabit, are the highest forms of nature, and are set in nature as types of a yet higher order of existence; viz., spirit, or free intelligence. They are immaterial, having neither weight nor dimensions of their own; and what is yet closer to mind, they act by no dynamic force, or impulsion, but from themselves; coming down upon matter, as architects and chemists, to do their own will, as it were, upon the raw matter and the dead chemistry of the world. We say not that they have in truth a will; they only have a certain plastic instinct, by which their dominating chemistry is actuated, and their architectural forms are supplied. We have thus a world immaterial within the boundaries of cause and effect; for the plastic instinct has causes of action in itself, and acts under a necessity as absolute as the inorganic forces. It belongs to nature, and not to the supernatural, becuse it is really in the chain of cause and effect, and is only a quasi power. The manner of working, in these plastic chemistries, no science can dis 72 OF SUPERNATURAL AGENCY, cover and their products no science can imitate. Elements that are united by the laws of matter they will somehow resolve and separate, and elements which no laws of matter have ever united, they will bring into a mys+ic union, congenial to their own forms and uses. Thus, in place of the few distinct substances we should have, were the earth left to its pure metallic state, invaded by none of these myrmidons of life and the chemistries tfuey bring with them, we have, provided for our use, immense varieties of substances which can not even be recounted-woods, meats, bones, oils, wools, furs, grains, gums, spices, sweets, the fruits, the medicines, the grasses, the flowers, the odors-representatives all of so many lives, working in the clay, to produce what none but their external chemistry, entering into the clay in silent sovereignty, can summon it to yield. They are types in nature of the supernatural and its power to subordinate the laws of nature. They come as God's mute prophets, throwing down their rods upon the ground, as Moses did, that we may see their quickening and believe. WVe do believe that they contain a higher tier of chemical forces, superior to the lower tier of forces in the dead matter, and we are nowise shocked by the miracle, when we see them quicken the dead matter into life, and work it by their magic power into substances, whose affinities were not inherent in the matter, but in the subtle chemists of vitality by whom they were fashioned. Nothing is better understood, for example, than that the three elements of the sugar principle have no discoverable affinity by which they unite, and that no utmost art of science has ever been able, under the inorganic laws of matter, to unite them. They never do unite, save 7 73 AS DR. STRAUSS HIMSELF by the imposed chemistry of the sugar-making lives. And so it is of all vegetable and animal substances. They exist because the system of vital chemistries is gifted with a qualified sovereignty over the system of inor ganic chemistry. And it would seem as it it was the special design of God, in this triumph of the lives over the mineral order and its laws, to accustom us to the fact of a subordination of causes, and make us so familiar with it as to start no skepticism in us, when the sublimer facet of a supernatural agency in the affairs of the world is discovered or revealed. For, if the secret worklings, the dissolvings, distillations, absorptions, conversions, compositions, continually going on about us and within, could be definitely shown, there is not any thing in all the mythologies of the race, the doings of the gods, the tricks of fairies, the spells and transformations of the wizard powers, that can even approach the real wonders of fact here displayed. And yet we apprehend no breach or suspension of the laws of dead matter in the manifest subordination they suffer; on the contrary, we suppose that the dead matter is thus subordinated, in a certain sense, through and by its own laws. As little reason have we to apprehend a breach upon the laws of nature in one of Christ's miracles. Whatever yields to him, yields by its own laws, and not otherwise. So significant is the lesson given us by these myrmidons of life, that are filling the world with their activity, preparing it to their uses, and transforming it-otherwise a desert-into a frame of habitable order and beauty. It is remarkable that even Dr. Strauss takes note of this same peculiarity observable in the works of nature. 'It is true," he says,, "that single facts and groups 74 CANDIDLY ADMITS. of facts, with their conditions and processes of change, are not so circumscribed as to be unsusceptible of external influence; for the action of one existence or kingdom in nature trenches on that of another; human freedom controls natural development, and material laws react on human freedom. Nevertheless, the totality of finite things forms a vast circle, which, except that it owes its existence and laws to a superior power, suffers no intrusion from without. This conviction is so much a habit of thought with the modern world, that in actual life the belief in a supernatural manifestation, an immediate divine agency, is at once attributed to ignorance or imposture."* But, what if it should happen that above this "totality of things" there is a grand totality superior to things? Wherein is it more incredible that this higher totality should exert a subordinating "external influence" on the whole of things, than that "one kingdom in nature trenches on another?" Why may not men, angels, God, subordinate and act upon the whole of what is properly called nature? and what are all the organifice powers in nature doing but giving us a type of the truth, to make it familiar? And then how little avails the really low appeal from such a testimony to the current unbeliefs and crudities of a superficial, coarse-minded, unthinkirg world? It is not these which can convict such opin ions of "ignorance or imposture." Had this writer, on the contrary, observed that the subordination of one kingdom of nature and its laws to the action'of another, covers all the difficulties of the question of miracles, he could have had some better title to the name of a philosopher. * Life of Jesus, Vol. I, p. 71. 75 GEOLOGY FURNISHES Meantime, while we are familiarized, in this manner, with the subordination of one system of laws and forces to another; and prepared to admit the possibility, if we should not rather say forewarned of the actual existence of, another system above nature subordinating that; we also meet with arguments incorporated in the works of nature, that have a sturdier significance, rising up, as it were, to confront those coarse and truculent forms of skepticism on which, probably, the finer tokens just referred to would be lost. The atheist denies the existence of any being or power above nature; the pantheist does the same-only adding that nature is God, and entitled in some sense to the honor of religion. Now, to show the existence of a God supernatural, a God so far separated from nature and superior to it as to act on the chain of natural cause and effect from without the chain, the new science of geology comes forward, lays open her stone registers, and points us to the very times and places where the creative hand of God was inserted into the world, to people it with creatures of life. Thus it is an accepted or established fact in geology, that our planet was, at some remote period, in a molten or fluid state, by reason of the intense heat of its matter. Emerging from this state by a gradual cooling process, there could of course be no seeds in it and no vestiges or germs of animal life. It is only a vast cinder, in fact, just now a little cooled on the surface, but still red hot within. And yet the registers show, beyond the possibility even of a doubt, that the cinder was, in due time and somehow, peopled with creatures of life. Whence came they or the germs of which they sprung? Out of the fire, or out of the cinder? The fire woild exterminate them all in a minute of time, and it 76 ANOTHER KIND OF FROOF. will be difficult to imagine that the cinder, the mere metallic matter of the world, has any power to resolve itself, under its material laws, into reproductive and articulated forms of life. Again, these ancient registers of rock record the fact that, here and there, some vast fiery cataclysm broke loose, submerging and exterminating a great part of the living tribes of the world, after which came forth new races of occupants, more numerous and many of them hig-her and more perfect in their forms of organization. Whence came these? By what power ever discovered in nature were they invented, composed, articulated, and set breathing in the air and darting through the waters of the world? Finally man appears, last and most perfect of all the living forms; for, while so many successive orders and types of living creatures, vegetable and animal, show us their remains in the grand museum of the rocks, no vestige, or bone, or sign of man has ever yet been discovered there. Therefore here, again, the question returns, wlhence came the lordly occupant? Where was he conceiwed? In -what alembic of nature was he distilled? By what conjunction of material causes was he raised up to look before and after, and be the investigator of all causes? Having now these facts of new production before us, we are obliged to admit some power out of nature and above it, which, by acting on the course of nature, started the new forms of organized life, or fashioned the germs out of which they sprung. To enter on a formal discussion of the theory, so ambitiously attempted by some of the naturalists, by which they are ascribed to the laws of .mere nature or to natural development, would carry me 77 7* IT REFUTES farther into the polemics of geology and zoology than the limnits of my present argument will suffer. I will only notice two or three of the principal points of this devel opment theory, in which it is opposed by insurmountable facts.* First of all, it requires us to believe that the original germs of organic life may be and were developed out of matter by its inorganic forces. If so, why are no new germs developed now? and why have we no well-attested facts of the kind? Some few pretended facets we have, but they are too loosely made out to be entitled, for a moment, to our serious belief. Never yet has it been showi that any one germ of vegetable, or animal life, has been developed by the existing laws of nature, without some egg or germ previously supplied to start the process. Be-. sides, it is inconceivable that there is a power in the metallie and earthy substances, or atoms, however cunningly assisted by electricity, to generate a seed or egg. If we ourselves can not even so much as cast a bullet without a mold, how can these dead atoms and blind electric currents, without any matrix, or even governing type, weave the filaments and cast the living shape of an acorn, or any smallest seed? There can be no softer credulity than the skepticism which, to escape the need of a creative miracle, resorts to such a faith as this. But, supposing it possible, or credible, that certain germs of life may have been generated by the inorganic forces, * Whoever wishes to see this subject handled more scientifically and in a most masterly manner, may consult the "Essay on Classification" prefixed to the great work of Mir. Agassiz on Natural History, where the conceit that our animal and ve*etable races were started in their several eras by physical agencies, without a creative Intelligence, is exploded so as to be forever incapable of resuming even a pretense of reason 78 THE DEVELOPMENT THEORY. the development scheme has it still on hand to account for the existence of man. That he is thus composed in full size and maturity is impossible; he must be produced, if at all, in the state of infancy. Two suppositions, then, are possible, and only two; and we find the speculations of the school vibrating apparently between them. First, that there is a slow process of advance in order, through which the lowest forms of life gradually develope those which are higher and more perfect, and finally culminate in man. Or, secondly, that there is a power in all vital natures, by which, at distant but proper intervals, they suddenly produce some order of being higher than they, much as we often see in those examples of propagation which we denominate, most unphilosophically, Izusus 7tatturce, and that so, as the last and highest ltasus, if that were a scientific conception, man appears; being, in fact, the crown, or complete fulfillment, of that type of perfection which pertains to all, even the lowest, forms of life. In one view the progress is a regular gradation; in the other it is a progress by leaps or stages. As regards the former, it is a fattal objection that no such plastic, gradual movement of progress can be traced in the records of the geologic eras. All the orders, and genera, and species, maintain their immovable distinctions; and no trace can any where be discovered, whether there or in the now living races, of organic forms that are intermediate and transitional. Tokens may be traced in the rocks of a transitional development in some given kind or species, as of the gradual process by which a frog is developed; but there is no trace of organized being midway between the frog and the'horse, or of any insect or fish, on its way to become a frog. Besides, it is wholly 79 IT REFUTES inconceivable that there should be in re-um??aturoc any kind of creature that.is midway, or transitional, between the oviparous and mammal orders. Still further, if man is the terminal of a slow and plastic movement, or advance, what has become of the forms next to man, just a little short of man? They are not among the living, nor among the dead. No trace of any such forms has ever been discovered by science. The monkey race have been set up as candidates for this honor. But, to say nothing of the degraded consciousness that can allow any creature of language, duty, and reason,to speak of his near affinity with these creatures, what one of them is there that could ever raise a human infant? And if none, there ought to be some intermediate race, yet closer to humanity, that can do it. Where is this intermediate race? Just this, too, is the difficulty we encounter in the second form of the theory. There neither is nor can be any middle position between humanity and no humanity. If the child, for child there must be, is human, the mother and father must either be human or else mere animals. If they have not merely the power of using means to ends, but the necessary ideas, truth, right, cause, space, time, and also the faculty of language, that is of receiving the inner sense of symbols, which is the infallible test of intelligence, [intus lego,] then they are human; otherwise they are animals. No matter, then, how high they may be in their order; their human child is a different form of being, with which, in one view, they have nothing in common. And he is, by the supposition, born a child; the son of an animal, but yet a human child. And then the question rises, what animal is there, existing or conceivable, what accident, or power in nature, that can nurse or 80 THE I)EVELOPMENT THEORY. shelter from death, that feeblest and most helpless of all creatures, a human infant? Neither do we find, as a matter of fact, that the animal races advance in their nursing and protecting capacity, accordingly as they advance in the scale of organization. The nearest approach to that kind of tending and protective capacity, necessary to the raising of a human infant, any where discernible in the animal races, is found in the marsupial animals; which axe yet far inferior, as regards both intelligence and organization, to the races of dogs, elephants, and monkeys. Nay, the young salmon, hatched in the motherhood of the river, being cradled in the soft waters, and having a small sack of food attached underneath, to support the first weeks of their infancy, are much better off in their nursing than these most advanced races. Any theory, in short, which throws a human child on the care of an animal parentage, is too nearly absurd to require refutation. But there is a scientific reason against this whole theory of development, which appears to be irresistible; viz., that it inverts the order of causes, and makes exactly that whic( distinguishes the fact of death, the author and cause of life. For it is precisely the wonder, as was just now shown, of the living creatures, or vital powers, that, instead of being under the laws of mineral substances, they are continually triumphing over them. Never do they fall under and submit to them, till they die, and this is death. Thus, when a little nodule of living matter, called an acorn, is placed in the ground, it takes occasion, so to speak, firom its new conditions, begins to quicken, opens its duets, starts its pumps into action, sets. at work its own wondrotm powers of chemistry, and labors on through whole centuries, composing' and building on new lengths of wood, 81 IT IS REFUTED TOO till it has raised into the sky, against gravity and the laws of dead chemistry, a ponderous mass of many tons weight; there to stand, waving in triumph over the vanquished chemists of the ground, and against the raging storms of ages; never to yield the victory till the life grows old by exhaustion. Having come now to the limit of its own vital nature, the tree dies; whereupon the laws of inorganic matter, over which it had triumphed, fall at work upon it, in their turn, to dissolve it; and, between them and gravity, pulling it down upon the ground, it is disintegrated and reduced to inorganic dust. Now what the theory in question proposes is, that this same living nodule was originally developed, organized, and gifted with life, by the laws of dead matter,-laws that have themselves been vanquished, as regards their force, by its dominating sovereignty, and never have been able to do any thing more than to dissolve it after it was dead. We are brought, then, to the conclusion, which no ingenuity of man can escape, that the successive races of living forms discovered by geology are fresh creations, by a power out of nature and above it acting on nature; which, it will be remembered, is our definition of supernaturalism itself. And this plainly is no mere indication, but all absolute proof, that nature is not the complete system of God. Indeed, we may say, what might well enough be clear beforehand, that, if man is not from eternity, as geology proves beyond a question, then to imagine that mere dead earth, acted on by its chemical and electric forces, should itself originate sense, perception, thought, reason, conscience, heroism, and genius, is to assert, in the name of science, what is more extravagant than all the miracles even of the lIindoo mythology. 82 BY OTHER REASONS. There is yet another view of nature, at once closer at hand and more familiar, which demiands a great deal more of attention than it has received, from those who include all existence in the term. I speak of the conflichtiug and mutually destructive elements known to be comprised in it. In one view, it appears to be a glorious and complete system of order; in another, a confused mixture of tumult and battle. One set of powers is continually destroying what another is, with equal persistency, creating; and the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together. If then system is that which stands in the unity of reason, by what right are we able to call nature a system? That it is a system, or more properly part of a system, I do not question; for the subjective unity of reason is an instinct so powerful in our nature, or so nearly sovereign over it, that we can never expel the faith of such unity, even when it is objectively undiscoverable. What I here insist upon is, that nature, granting the most that can be said of it as a system, is manifestly no complete system in itself. On the contrary, it takes on appearances, in all its manifesttions, that indicate the action in it and upon it of powers extraneous. It seems to be no complete thing in itself, otherwise it would flow in courses of order and harmony, without any such turbulence of conflict and mutual destruction as we now see. AVe even look upon it as a realm played upon by forces of mischief, mixed up somehow with the disorders of disobedient powers, or, at least, penally accommodated to their state of sin, as it was originally subordinated to their uses. Most certain it is that, if cause and effect are universal, and in that view a complete universal system, such as our pantheistic and other naturalizing writers pretend,-suibject to no outside 83 DISTINCTION R-AISED action, subordinate to no other and higher tiers of existcnce, —there could be no aspects of strife and tumult in the plan; all, in such a case, must represent the necessary harmony and order of the system; flowing together on, down the easy track of its silent, smooth eternity. As it is, then, we have manifestly no sufficient right to speak of system at all, in the proper and true meaning of the term, till we bring into the account existences above nature, such as have it in their way to will, and war, and bring in disorder, presupposing thus a plan that includes possibilities of strife and conflict. And then, when we speak of system, it will be in the sense of the apostle, when, passing above the mere platitudes of things, he rises, in the man ner already described, to the contemplation of invisible dominions and powers, and of Christ, their everlasting head, and says inclusively of all created beings in heaven and in earth,-" For in him all things consist." In this word "consist," [standing together,] we have the essential and highest conception of system. Here is opened a glimpse of the true system of God; any thing less, or lower, or different, is only a fiction of science, and no truth. But we come to a point more positive and decisive; viz., that we do positively know existences that can not be ineluded in nature, but constitute a higher range, empowered to act upon it. This higher range we are ourselves, as already shown by our definition of nature and the supernatural in the last chapter. By that definition we are now prepared to assume and formally assign the grand twofold distinction of things anct persons, or things and Tpowers. All free intelligences, it was shown, the created and the 84 IP, BETWEEN POWERS AND THINGS. uncreated, are,.s being free, essentially supernatural in their action; having all, in the matter of their will, a power transcending cause and effect in nature, by which they are able to act on the lines and vary the combinations of natural causalities. They differ, in short, from every thing that classes under the term nature, in the fact that they act from themselves, uncaused in their action. They are powers, not things; the radical idea of a power being that of an agent, or force, which acts from itself, unlcaused, initiating trains of effect that flow from itself. Of the two great classes, therefore, named in our distribution, one comprehends all beings that are able to originate new trains of effects,-these are the Powers; and the other is made up of such as can only propagate effects under certain fixed laws,-these are Things. At the head of one class we conceive is God, as Lord of Hosts; who, in virtue of his all-originating power as Creator, is called the First Cause; having round him innumerable orders of intelligence which, though caused to exist by itim, are as truly first causes in their action as He,-starting all their trains of consequences in the same manner. In the other class, we have the immense catalogue of what are called the natural sciences,-the astronomical bodies, the immaterial forces, the fluids and solids of the world, the elements and atoms of chemistry, the dynamics of life and instinct,-in all of which, what are called causes are only propagations of effects under and by fixed laws. Hience they are second causes only; that is, causes whose causations are determined by others back of them; never, in any sense, originative, or first causes. The completeness of the distribution will be yet more clear, and the immense abyss of distance between the two orders, oI 8 8'PI, POWERS ARE classes, more visibly impassable, if we add such points of contrast as the following: Powers, acting in liberty, are capable of a double action,-to do, or not to do, (God, for example, in creat. ing, man in sinning;) things can act only in one way, viz., as their law determines. Powers are perfectible only by exercise, after they are made; things are perfect as made. Powers are perfected, or established in their law, only by a schooling of their consent; things are under a law mechanical at the first, having no consent. Powers can violate the present or nearest harmony, moving disorder in it; things are incapable of disorder, save as they are disordered by the malign action of powers. Powers, governed by the absolute force or fiat of omnipotence, would in that fact be uncreated and cease; things exist and act only in and by the impulsion of that fiat. We have thus drawn out and set before us two distinct orders and degrees of being, which, together, constitute the real universe. So perfectly diverse are they in kind, that no common terms of law or principle can, for one moment, be imagined to include them both; they can be one system only in some higher and broader sense, which subordinates one to the other, or both to the same final causes. One thing is thus made clear; viz., that nature is not, in any proper sense, the universe. We know that it is not, because we find another kind of existence in ourselves, which consciously does not fall within the terms of nature. Probably the disciples of naturalism will make answer to this course of argument, by complaining that we gain our point thus easily by means of our definition 86 I THE PRINCIPAL MAGNITUDES. which definition is arbitrary,-drawing a distinction between nature and the supernatural, or between things and powers, that is not usual. Whether it be usual or not is not the question, but whether it is grounded in reality and witnessed immediately by our own consciousness. If it has been the prime sophism of the naturalists, to assume the universality of nature, and still more if they have carried the assumption so far as to hold, in fact and even formally, that men are only things,-under the same laws of eternal necessity with things, and equally incapable of obligation, thus a part of the system of universal nature,we certainly have as good a right to raise definitions, that meet the truth of consciousness, as they to overlook and hide them, in plain defiance of consciousness. There may be something fatal in such definitions, but there certainly is nothing arbitrary. Receiving it now as a truth sufficiently established that nature, or the realm of things, is not the system of the universe, that there is beside a realm of powers, it is difficult to close the survey taken, without glancing, for a mogient, at the relative weight and consequence of the two realms. When such a question is raised, there are many who will have it as their feeling, whether they say it in words or not, that the world of things preponderates in magnitude; for what are we doing, a great part of us, whether men of action or men of science, but chasing the shows of our senses, and magnifying their import, by the stimulation of our egregious idolatry? And yet it would seem that any most extempore giance at the world of powers would suffice to correct us, and set the realm of things, vast as it is, in a very humble place. First, we recognize in the grand inventory our own human race 87 NATURE ONLY A FIELD We call them persons, spirits, souls, minds, intelligences, friee agents, and we se, them moving out from nature and above it, consciously superior; streaming into it in currents of causality from themselves; subduing it, developing or detecting its secret laws, harnessing its forces, and using it as the pliant instrument of their will; first causes all, in a sense, and springs of action, side by side with the Creator, whose miniatures they are, whose footsteps they distinguish, and whose recognition they naturally aspire to. Next adjacent to these we have the intelligent powers of the astronomic worlds, and all the outlying populations of the sky; so numerous that we shall best conceive their number, not by counting the stars and increasing the census obtained by some factor or multiplier greater than the mind can definitely grasp, but by imagining the stellar spaces of infinity itself interfused and filled with their prodigious tides of life and motion. All these, like us, are creatures of admiration, science, will, and duty; able to search out the invisible in the visible, and find the footsteps of God in his works. Then again, also, we recognize a vast and gloriously populated realm of angels and departed spirits, who, when they are sent, minister, unseen, about us; mixed, we know not how, in the surroundings of our state, with unsaintly and demoniacal powers of mischief, not sent nor suffered even to come, save when they are attracted by the low affinities we offer as open gates to their coming. To which, also, we are to add those unknown, dimly-imagined orders of intelligences, of which we are notified in the terms of revelation,-seraphim, living creatures, thrones, authorities, dominions, principalities, and powers. Now all these living armies or hosts of God, and God 88 FOR THE POWERS, the Lord of IHosts, capable of character, society, duty, love, —creators all, in a sense, of things that otherwise could never be, first causes all of their own acts and doings, able to adorn what is and contrive what is not, and carry up the worlds themselves in ascending scales of improvement,-can we look on these and imagine that nature includes the principal sum and constitutes the real system of being? Are not these other forms of being the transcendent forms, and if we will inventory the universe, are they not all, in fact, that gives it an assignable value? If God Himself be a real existence, what is he, by the supposition, but the major term of all existence,-the allcontaining substance, a being so great that we scarcely need refer to the free populations just named, to sink all that is below Hiim, and is called nature, into comparative insignificance. But, when we regard iim as the Uncreated Power at the head of his immense family of powers, all systematized or sought to be systematized, all perfect in good or else to be perfected under one law, viz., the eternal, necessary, immutable law of rig7t,-a law which he first of all accepts himself, in which his own character of beauty and truth and even his felicity is based, and which therefore he ordains for all, to be the condition of their character, as of his own, building nature itself to it, as a field of exercise and trial; then do we, for once, catch a true glimpse of the significance of nature. It is no more that universe the philosophers speak of; it is raised in dignity by the relation it fills, and, for a like reason, sunk in quantity to comparative nothingness. Its dis tances no longer occupy us, its magnitudes appall us no more, the astronomic splendors are tinsel; nothing is solid, or great, or high, but those transcendent powers whose 8* 89 AND THEIR EXERCISE. eternities are the main substances of the worlds. Nature, in short, is only stage, field, medium, vehicle, for the universe; that is, for God and his powers. These are the real magnitudes; because they contain, at once, the import and the final causes, or last ends, of all created substance. The grand, universal, invisible system of God, therefore, is a system that centralizes itself in these, subordinating all mere things, and having them for its instruments. For the serving and training of these, he loosens the bands of Orion and tempers the sweet influences of Pleiades; spreading out the heavens themselves, not for the heavens' sakes, but as a tent for these to dwell in. Is it any thing new that the tent is a thing less solid and of meaner consequence than the occudant? 90 6 CHAPTER rV. PROBLEM OF EXISTENCE, AS RELATED TO THE FACT OF EVIL. WE have reached a summit now, where a wider prospect opens, and God's true system begins to reveal its outlines. Nature, intelligently defined, is not, as we have seen, that system, but only a subordinate and humble member of it. The principal existences are not the things or magnitudes which science has for its subjects, but those everlasting populations of powers that inhabit the realm of things and do their will upon it. The real universe invests, or takes in nature, even as the blooming and sueculent peach gathers its fruity parts, its fibers, veins and circulating juices, about the nut or stone. Scientifically speaking, both parts together constitute the real unity of the peach. But, if any one should claim this distinction for the stone, because of its stability and because it is a point of inherence and a basis of reaction for the vascular and fleshy parts, it would be a good and sufficient reply that, practically, or as regarding considerations of value, the fruity part is all; and that, when we name the peach, we commonly do not so much as think of the stone, either as being or not being included. So it is with cause and effect, laws and instincts, all that we call nature; it is not the system of God, and is really no co-ordinate part of his universe, considered as related to the powers that have their society in it and get their reactions from it. They are the universe, practically, themselves; only having nature as their field and the tool-house of their instrument ations. POWFRS NOT MANAGEABLE Regarding them now as powers, and so as the grand reality of God's universal system, let us consider more carefully what their relations are to the natural forces and the general order of the system. They can not, by the supposition, be operated under laws of causation, or be, in any sense, included in the order of nature. As little admissible is it, supposing the strict originality of their actions, and regarding them as properly first causes each of his own, that they are subject to any direct control, or impulsion of omnipotence. We set no limits, when we thus speak, to omnipotence; we only say that omnipotence is force, and that nothing in the nature of force is applicable to the immediate direction, or determination of powers. At a remove one or more degrees distant, force may concern itself in the adjustment of means, influences, and motivities related to choice; or, by spiritual permeations, it may temper and sway that side of the soul which is under the control of laws, and so may raise motivities of thought and feeling within the soul itself; but the will, the man himself as a power, is manageable only in a moral way; that is, by authority, truth, justice, beauty, that which supposes obligation or command. And this, again, supposes a consenting obedience, and this a power of non-consent, without which the consent were insignificant. Which power of non-consent, it will be observed, is a power also of deviation or disobedience, and no one can show beforehand that, having such a power, the subject will not sometime use it. So far the possibility of evil appears to be necessarily involved in the existence of a realm of powers; whether it shall also be a fact, depends on other considerations yet to be named., One of the most valued and most triumph 92 I BY OMNIPOTENCE. antly asserted arguments of our new school of Sophists is dismissed, in this manner, at the outset. God they say is omnipotent, and, being omnipotent, he can, of course, do all things. If therefore he chooses to have no sin or disobedience, there will be no sin or disobedience; and if we fall on what is sin to us, it will only be a form of good to Iim, and would be also to us, if we could see far enough to comprehend the good. The argument is well enough, in case men are things only and not powers; but if God made them to be powers, they are, by the supposition, to act as being uncaused in their action, which excludes any control of them by God's omnipotent force, and then what becomes of the argument? Omnipotence may be exerted, as we just said, one degree farther off, or in that department of the soul which is under conditions of nature; but it does not follow that any changes of view, feeling, motive, wrought in this manner, will certainly suffice to keep any being in the right, when he is so far a power that he can even choose the weakest and most worthless motive-as we consciously do in every wrong act of our lives. We dismiss, in the same short manner, the sweeping inferences a certain crude-minded class of theologianls are accustomed to draw from the omnipotence of God. They take the word omnipotence in the same undiscerning and coarse way; as if it followed indubitably, that a being omnipotent can do every thing he really wishes to have done; and then the conclusion is not far off that God, for some inscrutable reason, wants sin, wants misery-else why do they exist?-therefore that the existence of sin and misery supposes no real breach of order, and that, when they come, they fall into the regular train of God's 93 94 WHICH IS YET NO LIMITATION ideal harmony, as exactly as any of the heavenly motions, or chemical attractions. All such idolaters of the forceprinciple in God will, of course, be abundantly shocked by what appears to be a limit on the sway, or sufficiency of their idol. And yet, even they will be advancing unconsciously, every day of their lives, something which implies a limitation as real as any they complain of. Thus, how often will they say, without suspecting any such implication, that God could not forgive sin without a ransom, and could not provide a ransom, save by the incarnate life and death of his Son. W'hy not, if he is omnipotent? Can not omnipotence do every thing? This very question, indeed, of the seeming limitation of God's omnipotence, implied in the sacrifice of Christ, was the precise difficulty which Anselm, in his famous treatise, undertook to solve. HIe states it thus:-" To show for what necessity and cause God, who is omnipotent, should have assumed the littleness and weakness of human nature, for the sake of its renewal;"* or, as he had just been saying,t how he did this to restore the world, when, for aught that appears, "he might have done it merely by his will." The difficulty was real, no doubt, to a certain class of minds, in his time; but to another class, inthralled by no such crudities in respect to force, it never was, or could be, any difficulty at all. As little room for question is there in our doctrine, when we say that a realm of powers is not, by the supposition, to be governed as a realnm of things, that is, by direct omnipotence; for we mean by omnipotence, not power, in the sense of influence, or moral impression, but mere executive force; we mean that * Bibliotheca Sacra, Vol. XI, p. 737. f lb., p. 736 I OF OMNIPOTENCE. God, as being omnipotent, is in force to do all that force can do-this and nothing more.,But force has no relation to the doing of many things. It can overturn mountains, roll back the sea, or open a way through it; but manifestly it has nothing to do in the direct impulsion of a soul; for a soul is a power, capable of character and responsibility, as being clear of all causation and acting by its own free self-impulsion. Therefore, to say that powers, or free agents, can not be swayed absolutely by omnipotent force, is only to deny the applicability of such force, not to place it under limitation. It might as well be called a limitation of the force of an army, to say that it can not compute an eclipse, or write an epic; or that of an earthquake, to say that it can not shake a demonstration of Euclid. The doctrine I am stating involves, in fact, no limitation of the power of God at all. It only shows that the reason of God's empire excludes, at a certain point, the absolute dominion of force. Nor is it any thing new, more than in the question of Anselm above referred to, that,the force of God consents to the sovereignty of his eternal reason, and the counsel of wisdom in his purposes. But it will be peremptorily required of us, at this point, to answer another question; viz., why God should have created a realm of powers, or free agents, if they must needs be capable, in this manner, of wrong an.d misery? Without acknowledging, for one moment, that I am responsible for the answer of any such question, and denying explicitly the right of any mortal to disallow or discredit any act of God, because he can not comprehend the reasons of it, I will simply say, in reply, that it is enough for me to be allowed thie simple hypothesis that God 95 96 TIX A KINGDOM OF POWERS, preferred to have powers and not things only; because le loves character and, apart from this, cares not for all the mere things that can be piled in the infinitude of space itself, even though they be diamonds; because, in bestowmng on a creature the perilous capacity of character, he bestows the highest possibility of wealth and glory; a capacity to know, to love, to enjoy, to be consciously great and blessed in the participation of his own divinity and character. For if all the orbs of heaven were so many solid Kohinoors, glittering eternally in the sun, what were they, either to themselves or to Iim; or, if they should roll eternally, undisturbed in the balance of their attractions, what were they to each other? Is it any impeachment of God that he did not care to reign over an empire of stones? If he has deliberately chosen a kind of empire not to be ruled by force, if he has deliberately set his children beyond that kind of control, that they may be governed by truth, reason, love, want, fear, and the like, acting through their consent; if we find them able to act even against the will of God, as stones and vegetables can not, what more is necessary to vindicate his goodness, than to suggest that he has given them, possibly, a capacity to break allegiance, in order that there may be a meaning and a glory in allegiance, when they choose it? There is, then, such a thing inherent in the system of powers as a possibility of wrong; for, given the possibility of right, we have the possibility of wrong. And it may, for aught that appears, be the very plan itself of God, to establish his powers in the right, by allowing them an experiment of the wrong, in which to school their liberty; bringing them up again out of its bitterness, by a deliver. EVIL INIIERENTLY POSSIBLE. -ng process, to shun it with an intelligent and forever fixed abhorrence afterward. And then, if this should be his plan, what an immense complication of acts, events, pro cesses, contrarieties, and caprices, must be involved in it. Nature, considered as the mere run of cause and effect, is simple as a jewsharp. But here we have a grand concilium, or republic of wills, acting each for himself, and in that capacity to be trained, governed, turned about and about, and finally brought up into the harmony of a consenting choice and a common love and character. The system will be one that systematizes the caprices and discords of innumerable wills, and works results of order, through endless complications of disorder; having, in this fact, its real wisdom and magnificence. Thus how meager an affair to thougoht were our American republic, if it were nothing but the run of causes in the climate and soil, and the mere physiology of the men; but, when it is considered as containing so many wills, acting all fromn themselves, incomputable in their action because they are uncaused in it; reducing so many mixtures of contrarieties and discords to a beautiful resultant order and social unity; striving still on, by the force of its organic nisus, toward a condition of historic greatness hitherto unklnown to the world-considered thus, how truly sublime and wonderful a creation does it appear to be. And yet there are many who can not imagine that God has any system or law, in his gr att republic of freedom, if there be any discord, any contrariety, any infringement of his mandates, any distlLrbance of nature; or indeed if he does not really impel and do every thing himself, by his own immediate and absolute causation. Whereas, ii they could rise above the feeble conceit by which they make the force of Godcl their 9 97 98 THE PIROBL]M OF EXISTENCE idol, thev would see that, possibly, it may be the highest point of grandeur iil his system, that it systematiz'es powers transcending nature, and even disorders in the field of nature itself. Or, if it be objected that the admission or fact of such disorders annihilates the unity of God's empire, leaving it in a fragmentary, cloven state, which excludes the scientisc idea of a proper universe, it is a good and sufficient answer that God's unities are all, in the last degree, unities of end, or counsel as related to end; consisting never in a perfect concert of parts, or elements, but in a comprehensive order that takes up and tempers to its own purposes many antagonisms. What, in fact, is the order of heaven, or even the atomic order of particles, but a resultant of the eternal strife by which they are instigated? What then if the powers are able to break loose, and do, from obligation; when the system or plan of God is made large enough to include such a breaking loose, and deep enough in counsel, from the beginning, to handle it in terms of sovereign order. The higher unity is not gone because discord has come in points below, and would not be, even if the discord were eternal. Still it remains, comprehends every thing, moving still on its ends, as little diverted or disturbed, as if the powers all came to wed themselves to it in loving obedience. There is a real universe now as before, because the universal niszts of the plan remains, and because the regulative order that comprehends so great irre,guLlarity retains its integrity unbroken, its equilibrium undisturbed. If now we raise the question more distinctly, what is the great problem of existence, as regards the order of A TRAINING INTO PERFECTION. powers, or the humana race as being such, it is not difficult to answer, following out the view"t-ihus far presented, that it is our perfection; the perfection, th-at is, of our liberty, the schooling of our choice, or consent, as powers, so that we may be fully established in harumony with God's will and character; unified with Him in llis will, glorified witlh IHim in the glory of his character, and so perfected with him in his eternal beatitude. Persons or powers are creatures, we have seen, who act, not by causality, but by consent; they must, therefore, be set in conditions that invite consent, and treated also iin a manner that permits the caprices of liberty-. It is also a remnarkable distinction, we have noted, that they are creatures perfectible only after they are made, while mere natural quantities and objects are perfect as made. Just here, accordin,gly, the grand problem of their life and of the world begins. They are to be trained, formed, furnished, perfected; and to this end are to be carried throu,gh just such scenes, experiences, changes, trials, variations, operations, as will best serve their spiritual perfection aid their final fruition of eoch other and of God. If there are necessary perils in such a trial of their liberty, then they are to be set upon the course of such perils. Nor will it make any difference if the perils are such as breed the greatest speculative difficulties. God does not frame his empire to suit and satisfy our speculations, but for our practical profit; to bring us up into Htis own excellence, and establish us eternally in the participation of his character. On this subject there would seem to be very little room for doubt. The scripture revelation proposes this \iew of life, our own observation confirms it, and besides there is really no other in which even our philosophy can comfortably rest. 99 1. -. 100 WHICII TRAINING, AS BEING FOR, But this training of consent, this perfecting of liberty in the issues of character, it will help us at this early point to observe, is nothing different from a preparation for society and a drill-practice in the principles of society; that is, in truth, in purity, in justice, in patience, forgiveness, love, all the self-renouncing and beneficent virtues. Accordingly the course of training will itself be social; a trial under, in, and by society. The powers will be thrown together in terms of duty as being terms of society, and in terms of society as being' terms of duty. Morality and the law of religion respect society and the condition of social well-being, which is the grand felicity of powers. Things have no society, or capacity of social relations. In mere nature, considered as a scheme of cause and effect, there is nothing social, any more than there is'in the members of a steam-engine. And if we really believe that we ourselves are only wheels, in the play of an all-comprehending causation, it should be the end even of the feeling of society in us. Love, benefit, sympathy, injury, hatred, thanks, blame, character, worship, faith,-all that constitutes the reality of society, whether of men with God or of men with each other, belongs to the fact that we are consciously powers. Strip us of this, let all these fruits be regarded as mere dynamic results, under the head of natural philosophy, and they will change, at once, to be mere tricks, or impostures of natural magic. Our discipline, therefore, is to be such as our supernatural and social quality requires, the discipline of society. Since it is for society, it must be in and by society. WVe accordingly shall have a training as powers among other powers, such as will qualify us for a place of eternal unity and harmony with them under God, the central and First I MUST BE IN, SOCIETY. Power; so to be set by Him in a consolidated, everlasting kingdom of righteousness, and truth, and love, and peace. And thus it is that we find ourselves embodied in matter, to act as powers upon, for, with, and, if we will, against each other, in all the endless complications of look, word, act, art, force, and persuasion; in the family and in the state, or two and two upon each other; in marriage, fraternity, neighborhood, friendship, trade, association, protection, hospitality, instruction, sympathy; or, if we will, in frauds, enmities, oppressions, cruelties, and mutual temptations,-great men moving the age they live in by their eloquence; or shaping the ages to come by their institutions; or corrupting the world's moral atmosphere by their bad thoughts, their fashions and vices; or tearing and des. olating all things by irruptions of war, to win a throne of empire, or the honors of victors and heroes. By all these methods do we come into society, and begin to act, each one, upon the trains of cause and effect ill nature; thus upon each other, from our own point of liberty. And accordingly society is, in all its vast complications, an appoimtment-we can not escape it. We can only say what kind of experience it shall be as regards the fruits of character in us. Meantime God is reigning over it, socially related Himself to each member, governing and training that member through his own liberty. Life, thus ordered, is a magnificent scheme to bring out the value of law and teach the necessity of right as the only conservating principle of order and happiness; teaching the more powerfully that it teaches, if so it must, by disorder and sorrow. And nature, it will be observed, is the universal medium by or through which the training is accomplished. The powers act on each other, by acting on the lines of cause 9* 101 AND SOCIETY IS CARRIED 0N and effect in nature; starting thus new trains of events and consequences, by which they affect each other, in ways of injury or blessing. They speak and set the air in motion, as it otherwise would not move; and so the obedient air, played on by their sovereignty, becomes the vehicle of wiords that communicate innumerable stings, insults, flatteries, seductions, threats; or tones of comfort, love and blessing. So of all the other elements, solid, fluid, or aerial-they are medial as between the powers. The whole play of commerce in society is through nature, and is in fact a playing on the causes and objects of nature by supernatural agents. All doings and misdoings are, in this view, a kind of discourse in the terms of nature, by which these supernatural agents, viz., men, answer to each other, or to God, in society. Their blasphemies and prayers and songs and threats, their looks and gestures, their dress and manners, their injuries and alms, their blows and barricades and bullets and bombs, these and such like are society, the grand conversation by which our social discipline is carried on. And it is all a supernatural transaction. As a conversation in words is not reducible to mere natural causation, no more is that conversation in bullets and bombs that we call a battle. Nature could as well talk, as compound her forces in cartridges and fire them with a lev eled aim. Her activity in all these exchanges, or me dial transactions, that are carried on so briskly, is only the activity of the powers through her, and is, in fact, super natural. They start all these nimble couriers and set theln flying back and forth, by the right they have to come down upon nature. and act themselves into it. To a certain extent, they are inserted into nature and conditioned by it. They live in nature and are of it, up to the paint of 102 TIIROUGH NATURE. their will, but there they emerge into qualified sovereignty. WAVithlout this inherence in nature they would have no media of action, no common terms of order, interest, or trial, and no such basis of reaction as would make the consequences of their action ascertainable, or intelligible; without this sovereignty they would not be responsible. He-nce God's way has been, in all ages, and doubtless in all worlds, to set his supernatural agents in the closest connection with nature, there to have their action and there to perceive its effects on themselves and others. Even the miracles of Jesus are set as deep in nature as possible; shlowing the wine of Cana to be made out of water, and not out of nothing; the multitude of the loaves out of seven, not out of none; that so the mind, being fastened to something already existent, may see the miracle as a process; Nlwhereas, without a something in nature to begin with, there could be no process, and therefore nothing to observe. Hown far this range of society extends, whether nature is not, by some inherent necessity, a medium open to the commerce of all the powers of all worlds, involving, in that planner, a perilous exposure to demoniacal irruptions, till moral defenses and safeguards are prepared against them, are questions not to be answered here; but we shall recur to them shortly in another place. It has been already intimated, or shown as a possible thing, that the race, regarded as an order of powers, may break loose from God's control and fall into sin. Will they so break loose? Regarding them simply as made and set forth on the course of.training necessary to their establishment in holy virtue, will tihey retain their innof,ence? Have we any reason to think, and if so whai 103 4p PROBABILITY OF EVIL, reason to think, that they will drop their allegiance and try the experiment of'evil? It is very certain that God desires no such result. When it takes place, it will be against His will and against every attribute of his infinitely beneficent and pure character. It will only be true that hlie has created moral and accountable beings with this peril incident, rather than to create only nature and natural things; having it in view, as the glorious last end of his plan, finally to clear us of sin by passing us, since we will descend to it, completely through it. Hie will have given us, or, at least, the original new-created progenitors, a constituently perfect mold; so that, taken simply as forms of being, apart from any character begun by action, they are in that exact harmony and perfection that, without or before deliberation, spontaneously runs to good; organically ready, with all heavenly affinities in play, to break out in a perfect song. So far they are innocent and holy by creation, or by the simple fact of their constituent perfection in the image of their Maker; only there is no sufficient strength, or security in their holiness, because there is no deliberative element in it. Deliberation, when it comes, as come it must, will be the inevitable fall of it; and then, when the side of counsel in them is sufficiently instructed by that fall and the bitter sorrow it yields, and the holy freedom is restored, it may be or become an eternally enduring principle. Spontaneity in good, without counsel, is weak; counsel and deliberative choice, without spontaneity, are only a character begun; issued in spontaneity, they are the solid reality of everlasting good. Still it will not, even then, be true that God has contrived their sin, as a means of the ulterior good, though it may be true that they, by their 104 I AGAINST THE WILL OF GOD. knowledge of it as being only evil, will be intelligently fixed, forever afterward, in their abhorrence of it. Nor, if we speak of sin as permitted in this view by God, will it be any otherwise permitted, than as not being prevented, either by the non-creation, or by the unereating of the race. It mray appear to some that such a view of God's relations to sin excludes the fact, or faith of an eternal plan, showing God to be, in fact, the victim of sin; having neither power to withstand it, nor any system of purposes able to include and manage it. On this subject of foreordination or predetermined plan, there is a great deal of very crude and confused speculation. If there be any truth which every Christian ought to assume, as evident beyond all question, it is that God has some eternal plan that includes every thing, and puts every thing in its place. That He "foreordains whatsoever comes to pass" is only another version of the same truth. Nor is there any the least difficulty in distinguishing the entire consistency of this with all that we have said concerning God's relations to the existence of evil-no difficulty, in fact, which does not,cur in phrasing the conduct and doings even of men. Suppose, for example, that some person, actuated by a desire to benefit, or bless society, takes it in hand to establish and endow a school of public charity. In such a case, he will go into a careful consideration of all the possible plans of organization with a view to select the best. In order to make the case entirely parallel, suppose him to have a complete intuition of these plans, or possibilitiesA, B, and C, &c., on to the end of the alphabet; so that, given each plan, or possibility, with all its features and appointments, he can see precisely what will follow-all the good, all the mischief, that will be incurred by every .'L 0 5 GOD STILL GOVERNS child that will ever attend the school. Foy, in each of these plans or possibles, there are mischiefs incident; and there will be children attendant, who, by reason of jno fault of the school, but only by their perverse abuse of it, will there be ruined. The benefactor and founder, having thus discovered that a certain plan, D, combines the great est amount of good results and the smallest of bad ones, the question rises whether he shall adopt that plan? By the supposition he must, for it is the best possible. And yet, by adopting that plan, he perceives that he will make certain also every particular one of the inischiefs that will be suffered by the abuse of it, and so the ruin of every child that will be ruined under it. As long as the plan is only a possible, a thing of contemplation, no mischiefs are suffered, no child is ruined; but the moment he decides to make the plan actual, or set the school on foot, hlie decides, makes certain, or, in that sense, foreordinates, all the particular bad conduct and all the particular undoing there to be wrought, as intuitively seen by him beforehand. Nothing of this would come to pass if the school, D, were not founded; and, in simply deciding on the plan, with a perfect perception of what will take place under it, he decides the bad results as well as the good, though in senses entirely different. The bacld are not from him, nor from any thing he has introduced, or appointed; but wholly from the abuses of his beneficence practiced by others whom he undertook to bless. The good i, all from him, being that for which he established the school. Both are knlowingly made certain, or foreordained by his act. In this illustration it is not difficult to distinguish the true relation of God to the existence of evil. In selecting the best possible plan among the millions of possib)les 106 BY AN ETERNAL PLAN. open to his contemplation, and deciding to set on foot, or actualize that particular universe, he also made certain all the evils, or mischie~s seen to be connected with it. But they are not from him because they are, in this indirect manner, made certain, or foreordinated by him. It is hardly ri,ght to say that they are permitted by him. They come in only as necessary evils that environ the best plan possible. Sulch are the relations of God to the existence of evil. If it comes, it is not from Him, any more than the ruin of certain children in the school, just supposed, are from the benevolent founder. And yet lIe is not disappointed, or frustrated. Still He governs with a plan, a perfect and eternal plan, which comprehends, in its exact date and place, every thing which every wrong-doing and revolting spirit will do, even to the end of the world. Thus far we have spoken of God's relations to the existence of evil, or its possible prevention. We pass over now to the side of his subjects; and there we shall find reason, as regards their self-retention, to believe that the certainty of their sin is originally involved in their spiritual training as powers. talade organically perfect, set as full in God's harmony as they can be, in the mold of their constitution, surrounded by as many things as possible to allure them to ways of obedience and keep them from the seductions of sin, we shall discover still that, given the fact of their begun existence, and their trial as persons or powers, they are in a condition privative that involves their certain lapse into evil. If the language I employ in speaking of this matter is peculiar, it is because I am speaking with caution and carefully endeavoring to find terms that will convey the 107 108 EVIL FROM A CONDITION PRIVATIVE, right, separated from anyv false, impression. I speak of a "condition privative," it will be observed; not of any positive ground, or cause, or necessity; for, if there were any natural necessity for sin, it would not be sin. If it were caused, as all simply natural events are caused; or, what is the same, if it were a natural effect, it would not be sin. We might as well blame the running of the rivers, in such a case, as the wrong doing of men; for what we may call their wrong doing is, after all, nothing but the run of causes hid in their person, as gravity is hid in the running waters. If we could show a positive ground for sin; that man, for example, is a being whose nature it is to choose the strongest motive, as of a scalebeam to be turned by the heaviest weight, and that the strongest motive, arranged to operate on men, is the motive to do evil, that in fact would be the denial of sin, or even of its possibility; indeed it is so urged by the disciples of naturalism on every side. So again if we could, in a way of positive philosophy, account for the existence of evil-exactly what multitudes even of christian believers set themselves to do, not observing that, if they could execute their endeavor, they could also make as good answer for evil, on the judgment-day of the world-if, I say, we could properly and positively account for evil, in this manner, it would not be evil any longer. When we speak of accounting for any thing, we suppose a discovery of first principles to which it may be referred; but sin can be referred to no first principles, it is simply the act of a power that spurns all inductives back of the doer's will, and asserts itself, apart from all first principles, or even against them. Therefore, to avoid all these false implications, and present the simple truth of fact, I speak NOT FROM A GROUND POSITIVE. of a "condition privative;" by which I mean a moral state that is only inchoate, or incomplete, lacking something not yet reached, which is necessary to the probable rejection of evil. Thus an infant child runs directly toward, and will, in fact, run into, the fire; not because of any necessity upon him, but simply because he is in a condition privative, as regards the experience needed to prevent him. I said also "involves the certain lapse into evil " - not "produces," "infers," "makes necessary." There is no connection of science or law between the subject and predicate, such that, one being given, the other holds by natural consequence; and yet this condition privative "involves," according to our way of apprehending it, a certain conviction or expectation of the event stated. Thus we often attain to expectations concerning the conduct of men, as fixed as those which we hold concerning natural events, where the connection of cause and consequence is absolute. WTe become acquainted, as we say, with a certain person; we learn how he works in his freedom, or how, as a power acting from himself, he is wont to carry himself in given conditions; and finally we attain to a sense of him so intimate that, given almost any particular occasion, or transaction, touching his interest, we have an expectation, or confidence regarding what he will do, about as fixed as we have in the connections of natural events. The particular thing done to him "involves," in our apprehension, as the certain fact, that he will do a particular thing consequent. And yet we have no concep tion that he is determined, in such matters, by any caus'ttion, or law of necessary connection; the certainty we feel is the certainty, not of a thing, but of a power in the sovereign determination of. his liberty. In this and no I0 10 109 OUR NECESSARY DEFECT other sense do we speak of a condition privative, that involves a certain lapse into evil. Having distinguished, in this careful manner, the true import of the terms employed, it now remains to look for that condition privative on which so much depends. And we shall discover it in three particulars. 1. In the necessary defect of lknlowledge and consequent weakness of a free person, or power, considered as having just betgun to be. Ve must not imagine, because he is a power, able in his action to set himself above all natural causes and act originatively as from hirnself, that he is therefore strong. On the contrary, even tlloug,h he begins in the full maturity of his person, having a constitution set in perfect harmony with the divine order and truth, he is the weakest, most unperfect of beings. The stones of the world are strong in their destiny, because it stands in God, under laws of causation fixed by Him. But free ag,ents are weak because they are free; left to act originatively, held fast by no superior determination, bound to no sure destiny; save as they are trained into chlaracter, in and through their experience. Our argumeit forbids that we should assume the truth of thie human genesis reported in scripture history; for that is commonly denied by naturalism. I may not even assume that we are descended of a common stock. But this, at least, is certain, that wve each began to be, and therefore we may the more properly take the case of Adam for an example; because, not being corrupted by any causes back of him, as we most certainly are, and, mnaking a beginning in the flil maturity of his powers, he may be supposed to hav"e had some advantages for standing fist in the right, which we have not. 110 OF KNOWLEDGE. As we look upon him, raising the question whether he has moral strength to stand, we observe, first of all, that being in a perfect form of harmony, uncorrupted, clean, in one word, a complete integer, he must of course be spontaneous to good, and can never fall from it until his spontaneity is interrupted by some reflective exercise of contrivance or deliberative judgment. But this will come to pass, without fail, in a very short time; because he is not only spontaneous to good, but is also a reflective and deliberative being. And then what shall become of his integrity? Entering still further into his case, as we raise this questionII, we perceive that he holds a place, or point, in his actionI, between two distinct ranges of thought and motivity; between necessary ideas on one hand, and knowledges or judgments drawn from experience, on the other. In the first place, being a man, he has necessarily developed in his consciousness the law of right. Hie thinks the right, and, in thilnkling it, feels himself eternally bound by it. Ae may call it an idea in him, or a law, or a category of his bevg. lIe would not be a man without it; for it is only in connection with this, and other necessary ideas, that hlie ranges above the animals. Animals have no ne cessary ideas; these, especially such as are moral, are the necessary and peculiar furniture of man. What could a tman do in the matter of justice, iliquiri,ng after it, determiniing what it is, if the idea of justice were not first developed(, as a standard thought or idea, in his mind? \Who would set himself on inquiries after true things and judgments, if the idea of truth here not in him, as a regulative thought, or category of his nature? Thus it is, by our idea of right, that we. are set to the conceiving, or ill OUR NECESSARY DE'FECT thought of duty, as well as placed under obligation itself7 and we could not so much as raise the question of virtue or morality, if we were not first confi,guredl to iFs law, and set in action as being consciously under it. Herein, too, we are specially resembled to God; for, by this same idea of right, necessary, immutable, eternal, it is that ie is placed in obligation, and it is by iHis ready and perfect homage to this that His glorious character is built. And this law is absolute or unconditional to Him as to us, to us as to Him. No matter what may befall, or not befal us, on the empirical side of our life. No impediment, no threat, or fear, or force can excuse us; least of all can any mere condition privative, such as ignorance, inexperience, or the wvant of opposing motive. Simply to have thought the right, is to be under obligation to it, without any motive or hope in the world of experience, and despite of all opposing motives there. Even if the worlds fall on us, we must do the right. Pass over now from the absolute or ideal side of our existence, to the contingent, or empirical. Hiere we are, dealing, with effects, consequences, facts; trying our strength in attempts; computing, comparing, judging, learning how to handle things, and how they will handle us. And by this kind of experience we get all the furniture of our mind and character, save what we have as it were concreated in us, in those necessary ideas of which we have spoken, and which are presupposed in all experience. What now, reverting to the case of Adam, as a just begun existence, is the amount of his experimental, empirical, or historic knowledge? The knowledges we here inquire after, it will be observed, are such as are gotten historically, one by one, and one after another, under 112 OF KNOWLEDGE. conditions of time; by seeing, doing, suffering, comparing, distinguishiong, remembering, and other like operations. A man's knowledge here is represented, of course, by what he has been through, and felt, and thought. What then can he know, at the first moment of his being, when, by the supposition, he has never had a thought, or an experience; or, if we take him at a point an hour or a day later, none but that of a single hour or day? Being a perfectly disposed creature, the first man sets off, we will say, in a spontaneous obedience to the right, whiclh is the absolute law of his nature and is in him originally, by the necessary conditions of his nature. But there comes up shortly a question regarding some act, confessedly not ri,ght, or some act which, being forbidden, violates his sense of right. No matter what it is, he can be as properly and will be as effectually tested, by adhering to the sense of obligation, in withholding from an apple forbidden, as in any thing else. Hiere then he stands upon the verge of experimental wrong, debating the choice. What it is in its idea, or obligatory principle, he knows; but what it is in the experience of its fruits or consequences he knows not. The discord, bitterness, remorse, and inward hell of wrong are hidden, as yet, from his view. If minatory words have been used, pronouncing death upon him in case of disobedience, some degree of apprehension may have been awakened in him anticipatively, under the natural efficacy of manner and expression, which, even prior to any culture of experience, have a certain degree of power. But how little will this amount to in a way of guard or security for his virtue for he is a knowing creature still; wanting therefore to know, and, if it were not for this noble instinct of knowledge, would not be a man. o10* 113 OUR NECESSARY PERIL What then is this wrong he is debating, what does it signify? Ie does not ask whether it will bring him evil or good; for what these are, experimentally, he does not know. Enough that here is some great secret of knowledge to be opened; how can he abstain, how refuse to break through the mask of this unknown something, and know! I-e is tempted thus, we perceive, not by something positive, )laced in his way, but by a mere condition privative, a perplexing defect of knowledge incident to the faict of his merely begun existence. Doubtless it will be urged that no such wrong would ever be debated, if some positive desire of the nature were not first excited, some constitutional susceptibility, or want, drawn out in longing for its object. Even so, precisely that we have allowed; for what is the desire of knowledge itself but a positive and most powerful instinct of the soul. Only the more clear is it that, if the desired knowledge were already in possession, the temptation itself would be over. So if some bodily appetite were excited; how trivial and contemptible were this, or any proposed pleasure, if only the tremendous evil and woe of the wrong were already known, as it will be after years of struggle and suffering in it. The grand peril therefore is still seen to be of a privative and not of a positive nature. There must be positive impulses to be governed, or else there could not be a man, and the peril is that there is yet no experimental knowledge on hand, and can be none, sufficient to protect and guard the process. And yet the man is guilty if he makes the fatal choice. Even if the strongest motive were that way, he is yet a being able to choose against the strongest, and he consciously knows that he ought. In any view, he is not 114 I UNDER SUCH DEFECT. obliged to choose the wrong, more than a clild is obliged to thrust his hand into the blaze of'a llamp, the experience of which is nunknlown. Thle cases are, in facet, strongly analogous, save that the'vrong-doer knows beforehand, as the clild crtainly does not, that the act is wrong or criminal; a consideration by whlichl lie consciously ou,ght to b1e restrained, be thle consequences what they may. A.nd y c-t, who can expect that hle will forever be restrained, never breaking over this imysterious line to makle the bad experiment, or try what is in tlhis unknown something eternalltlly before his eyes! If we rightly remember, the false prophet soimewhvere represects the difficulty of a certaill course of virtue, by that of crossing the fiery gulf of tli1l upon a hair. Possibly our first man nma- cross upon this hair and keep his balance till he is completely over, but who will expect hin to do it? HIe may lookl uponi the tree of kInowledg(e of good and evil, (righltly is it named,) and pass it by. lie can do it; tlhere is a real possibility as there is a real obligation; but Adam, we are told, did not, neither is there any the least probability that any other of mankind, with atll his advantages, ever would. If it should be apprehended by any that a condition privative, connected as it plainly is wAithli such perils, quite takes away the guilt of sin, that, I answer, is by the supp)sition impossible. It really takes away nothing. The riht and only true statement is, that thle guilt of sin is not as greatly enhanced as it would be, if all the lknowledge needfCul to the strength of virtuLe were supplied. WVe differ in this matter from those u4uralistic philosophers, wvho reduce all human wArong to weakness, and obliterate, in t'Lat manl)er, all the distinctions of good and evil. W,e 115 WHICH PERIL DOES NOT really excuse nothing; we only do not condemn as severely as if the eternal and absolute obligation of right, revealed in every human bosom, were more thoroughly fortified by prudential and empiric knowledge. It may' also be objected, as contrary to all experience, as well as to the nature of sin itself, that sin should inimpart strength, or increase the capacity of virtue. What in fact does it bring, but bondage, disability, and death? Even so-this is the knowledge of sin, and no one is the more capable of holiness on account of it. It is the very point indeed of this knowledge that it knows disability, helplessness, despair. And exactly this it is that prepares the possibility of a new creation. Impotence discovered is the capacity of redemption. And then, when a soul has been truly regenerated and set in union with God, its bad experience will be the condition of its everlasting stability and strength. It will naturally enough be objected, again, by some, who hold the principle of disinterested and absolute virtue here assumed, that no mere defect of empirical knowledge-the knowledge of prudence or self- interest-creates a condition privative as regards the security of virtue;what need of experience to enforce obligations that are perfect, apart from all consequences? If one is loving God, as he ought, simply for his own excellence or beauty, and living by the inspiration of that excellence, what matter is it whether he knows the practical bitterness, the woe, the hell of sin, and understands the penal sanctions of re. ward and penalty set against it, or not? Is he going to fall out of his love and his inspired liberty, because he is not sufficiently shut in to it by fears and apprehended mniseries! There is an appearance of force in the objeec 116 EXCUSE OUR SIN. tion, and yet it is only an appearance. For, in the first place, it is not assumed that Adam, or any other man, put to the trial of a right life, is weak in his spontaneous obedience, because lhe is not sufficiently held to it by the prudential motives of fear and known destruction; but because his curiosity, as a knowing creature, is provoked, or will be, by not so much as knowingr what the motives are, in a word, by the profound mystery that overhangs the question of wrong itself. Indeed he does not even so much as know what it will do, whether it will raise to soime unknown pitch of greatness in power and intelligence or not. In the next place, it is not assumed that the prudential motives of reward and penalty will ever recover any fallen spirit from his defections and bring him into the inspired, free state of love. The office of such means and motives is vwholly negative; viz., to arrest the bad soul in its evil and bring it to a stand of self-renunciation, where the higher motives of the divine excellence and love may kindle it. In the third place, it is not assumed that, when souls are recovered from evil, and finally established in holy liberty, which is the problem of their tnal, they are made safe for the coming eternity by liknowing how dreadfully they will be scorched by evil, in case they relapse; but their safety is that, having been dreadfully scorched already by it, they have thoroughly proved what is in it, and extirpated all the fiscinations of its mystery. 2. It is another condition privative, as regards the moral perfection of powers, that.they require an empirical training, or course of government, to get them established ill the absolute law of duty, and that this empirical train 117 INHEREN-T NEED ALSO ing must probably have a certain adverse effect for a time, before it can mature its better results. The eternal idea of justice makes no one just; that of truth makes no one true; that of beauty makes no soul beautiful. So the eternal law of right makes no one righteous. All these standard ideas require a process or drill, in the field of experience, in order to become matured into characters, or to fashion character ill the molds they supply. And this process, or drill-practice, will require two economies or courses; the first of which will be always a failure, taken in itself, out will furnish, nevertheless, a necessary ground for the second, by lwhich its effects will be converted into benefits; and then the result-a holy character-will be one of course that presupposes both. The first named course, or economy, is that of law; which is called, even in scripture, the letter that killeth. The law absolute, of which we just now spoke, is a merely necessary idea; commanding us, from eternity, as it did the great Creator himself-do rig7ht-making no specifications and applying no motives, save what are contained in its own absolute excellence and authority. But the receiving it in that manner, which is the only manner iln which it can be truly received, supposes a mind and temper already configured to it, so as to be in it in mere love and the spontaneous homage that enthrones it because of its excellence, and God because he represents its excellence. Hiere, therefore, is the problem, how to produce this practical configuration. And it is executed thus:-God, as a power and a force extraneous, undertakes for it, first of all, to enforce it empirically, by motives extraneous; those of reward and fear, profit and loss. He takes the law abso. lute down into the world of prudence, re-enactiing it there 118 OF THE LETTER THAT KIL1, ETI, 1 iand preparing to train us into it, by a drill-practice under sanctions. In one view, the sanctions added are inappropriate; for they are opposite to all spontaneity, being appeals to interest, and so far calls that draw the soul away from the more inspiring considerations of inherent exceleince. The subject is lifted by no inspiration. ile is down under the law,,, at the best, trying to come up to it by willing, l)?(ctucttin) et seriatim, what particular things are required in the specifications made by it. If we could suppose the law thus enforced to be perfectly observed under this pressure of prudential sanctions, it would only make a dry, punctilious and painfully apprehensive kind of virtue, without liberty, or dignity. The more probable result is an habitual and wearisome selfishness; for, as long as the mind is occupied by these empirical and extraneous sanctions, it is held to the consideration of self-interest only; and the motives it is all the while canvassing, are such as the worst mind can feel, as well as that which is truly upright. And yet there is a benefit preparing in this first, or legal economy, which is indispensable; viz. this, that it gives adhesiveness to the law, which otherwise, ias being merely ideal, we might li,lghtly dismiss; that the friction it creates, like some mordant in the dyfing process, sets in the law and fastens it practically, or as an experiinenital reality; that the woes of penalty wage a battle for it, in which the soul is continually worsted and so broken in; that it develops in short a whole body of moral judgments and convictions, that wind the soul about as cords of detention, till finally the law to be enforced becolles an experimental verity fully established. Just here the soul begins to feel a dreadful coil of thraldom round it. To get away from the law is impossible; for it is 119 AS A STAGE hedged about with fire. To keep it is impossible; for the struggle is only a heaving under self-interested motive, to get clear of a state whose bane is selfishness. WVhat it means, the subject can not find. lie is in a condition of bitter thraldom; his sin appears to be sin even more than ever; and the whole discipline he is under seems only to minister the knowledge of sin; he groans, as it were, under a body of sin and death that he can not heave. And so he is made ready for the second economy, that of liberating grace and redemption. For now, in Christ, the law returns, a person, clothed in all personal beauty, and offers itself to the choice, even as a friend and deliverer; so that, being taken with love to Christ, and drawing near at his call in holy trust, the bondman is surprised to find that he is loving the law as the perfect law of liberty; which was the point to be gained or carried. And so, what began, as a necessary idea, is wrought into a character and become eternal fact. The whole operation, it will be observed, supposes a condition privative in the subject, such that he suffers, at first, a kind of repulsion by the law, and is only won to it by embracing the goodness of it in a personal friend and deliverer. And something like this double administration of law and liberty we distinguish, in many of the matters even of our worldly life. No exactness of drill makes an army efficient or invincible, till it is fired by some free impulse from the leader, or the cause; and yet the wearisome and tedious drill is a previous condition, without which this latter were impossible. No great workl of genius was ever written in the way of work, or before the wings were lifted by some gale of inspiration; which gale, again, would never have begun to blow, had not the windows of thought 120 OF TRANSITION and the chambers of light and beauty within been opened, by years of patient toil and study. The artist plods on wearily, drudging in the details of his art, till finally the inspiration takes him and, from that point onward, his hand is moved by his subject, with no conscious drudgery or labor. In the family, we meet a much closer and equally instructive analogy. The young child is overtaken first by the discipline of the house, in a form of law; commanded, forbidden, sent, interdicted, all in a way of authority, and to that authority is added something which compels respect. If he is a ductile and gentle child, he will be generally obedient; but the examples are few in which the child will not sometimes be openly restive, or even stiffen himself in willful disobedience. In any case, it will be law, not coinciding always with the child's wish es, or his opinions of pleasure and advantage; and there will be a sense of constraint, more or less irksome, as if the authority felt were repugnant and contrary to the desired happiness. By and by, however, authority changes its aspect and becomes lovely. The habit of obedience, theexperience had of parental fidelity and tenderness, and the discovery made of absurdity and hidden mischief in the things interdicted, as it seemed arbitrarily, gradually abolishes the sense of law and substitutes a control not felt before, the control of personal love and respect. So that, finally, the man of thirty will carefully and reverently anticipate the minutest wishes of a parent, and, if that can be called obedience, will obey him; when, as a child of three, he could barely endure his authority, and submitted to it only because it was duty enforced. Such is the analogy of common life. Law and liberty are the two grand terms under which it is passed-]Lew 121 11 TO SPIRITUAL LIBERTY. first and liberty afterward. And with all this corresponds what is said, in the New Testament, of law as related to gospel. It is said, in one view, of the laborious ritual of Moses; yet, by this historic reference, it is designed to lead the mind back into a more general and deeper truth. It is called "the letter that killeth," as related to "the spirit that giveth life." It is said to have its value in the development of knowledge; for by the law is "the knowledge of sin"-" that sin by the commandment might become exceeding sinful." It is bondage introducing and preparing liberty. "The law genderethl to bonidage," but the gospel,'Jerusalem that is above, is free."' "If there had been a law that could have given life, verily righteousness should have been by the law;" but that was impossible. "It is the schoolmaster to bring us to Christ," and then, having embraced him, he becomes a new inspiration in our love, after which we no more need "to be under a schoolmaster." "The law made nothing perfect, but the bringing in of a better hope did." There is reason to suspect that many will reject what I am here advancing. They will do it, of course, for the simple reason that they know no other kind of virtue but that which is legal, having therefore, in their consciousness, nothing which answers to the liberty of the Spirit. To them, what I have here said will have an appearance of cant. Exactly contrary to which, I affirm it as the only competent philosophy, perceiving, I think, as clearly as I perceive any thing, that the conjunction discovered in Chlristianitv of these two ministrations is not any casual or accidental matter-as if men had somehow fallen under law, and God was constrained, afterward, to do something, for them-on the contrary that the whole manage 122 A THIRD LIABILITY ment is from before the foundation of the world, hlaving respect to a grand antecedent necessity, involved in the perfecting of virtue. God never proposed to perfect a character in men by mere legal obedience. But he instituted law originally, no doubt, as a first stage, preparatory to a second; both of whiclh were to be kept on foot together, and both of which are blended, in one way or another, probably, in the training of all holy minds inll all worlds. 3. There appears to be yet another condition privative, as regards our security against sin, in the social relation of powers and their trial in and through that relation; viz., that they are, at first, exposed to invasions of malign influence from each other, which can nowise be effectuallyU prevented, save as they are finally fortified by the defenses of character. In this view, if I am right, a great part of the problem of existence must consist in what may be called the fencing of powers; that is, by assorting and separating the good from the bad, and rendering one class iiaccessible to the arts and annoyances of the other. The individual, as we have seen, is to be perfected for society; and, for that reason, he must needs have his trial in and through society. A still wider truth appears to be that the perfect society thus preparing is to be one and universal, comprehending the righteous populations of all worlds and ages; for the terms of duty and religion are in their nature universal; and for this reason it appears also to be necessary, that the trial and training should be in some open field of activity common to all the powers Accordingly, as we are made with social, and, if I may Ise the term, commercial.natures; having inlets of sympa 123 TO INVASION-', thy and impression, by which we may feel one another; capacities to receive and give, to wrong, to offend, to comfort, to strengthen, to seduce, and betray one another; sc there is an antecedent probability that the terms of social exposure will involve some possibility of access, on the part of beings unseen, that are not of our race. Indeed, if it should happen that spirits are impossible to be sorted and fenced apart by walls of matter, or gulfs of distance, or abysses of emptiness, something like this would seem to be necessarily involved, till they are sorted and the gates of commerce are shut fast, by the repulsions of contrary affinities. And accordingly, till this takes place, there must be exposures to good and malign influence, more numerous than we can definitely mark or distinguish. With this corresponds, it will be observed, all that is said in the scriptures of the activity of ministering angels engaged to confirm and comfort us, the insidious arts of a bad spirit to accomplish our fall, and the manifold cnticements and malignant possessions of evil demons generally. But I advert to these representations, it will be observed, not in a wayof assuming their authenticity, for that is forbidden by the nature of my argument. I only cite them as offering conceptions to our mind, or imagination, that may be necessary to a full comprehension of what is ineluded in the subject. Mlany will object most sturdily and peremptorily, I amn well aware, to the possibility of enticements and arts, practiced by unseen agents, to draw us off from our fidelity to God; alledging that such an exposure impeaches the fatherhood of God, and virtually destroys our responsibilitv. But what if it should happen to be involved, as the necessary condition of any properly social existence'? 124 AT A GREAT DISADVANTT-GE, Ant it might as well be urged that every temptation is an impeachment of God, which comes from sources unseen, being an approach that takes us off our guard, and upsets the balance, possibly, of our judgments, just when we are most implicitly confiding in them. Allowing such an objection therefore, responsibility would be impossible; for who of us was ever able to see distinctly, by what avenues all of his temptations or enticements came? Besides, saying nothing of badcl spirits, by how many methods, by air, look, sympathy, do we produce immediate impressions in each other, whose sources are never noted or suspected; conveying sentiments, drawing to this or that, fascinating, magnetizing, playing upon one another, by methods as subtle and secret, as if the mischief came from powers of darkness. Andcl yet we never imagine that such entice mients encroach at all on the grounds of our just responsibility; and all for the manifest reason that it never matters whence our enticements come, or by what arts the color of our judgments is varied and their equilibrium disturbed; still we know, in all cases, that the wrong is wroilg, and knowing, that is enough to complete our responsibility. I am well aware of the modern tendency to resolve what is said on this subject in the scripture into figures of speech, excluding all idea of a literal intermeddling of bad spirits. But that there are bad spirits, there is no more reason to doubt, than that there are bad men, (who are in fact bad spirits,) and as little that the bad spirits are spirits of mischief, and will act in character, according to their opportunity. As regards the possession by foul spir its, it has been maintained, by many of the sturdiest sup porters of revelation, and by reference to the words em 11~, 125 FROI THE ASSAULTS ploved il one or two cases by the evang,elists themseres, that they were only diseases regarded in that light. Others have assumed the necessary absurdity of these possessions without argument; and still others have made them ,t subject of muchl scoffing and profane ridicule. For the last half-century, and contemporaneously with our modern advances in science, there has been a general gravitation of opinion, regarding this and many other points, toward the doctrine of the Saddutcees. VWhich makles it only the more remarkable, that now, at last, a considerable sect of our modern Sadducees themselves, who systematically reject the faith of any thing supernatural, arc contributing what aid they clan to restore the precise faith of the New Testament, respecting foul spirits. They do not call their spiritual visitors devils, or their demonized mediums possessed persons. But the low manners of their spirits and the lying oracles which it is agreed that some of them give, and the power tlhey display of acting on the lines of cause and effect in nature, when thumping under tables, jolting stoves, and floating men and women through the upper spaces of rooms, proves them to be, if they are any thing, supernatural beingsleaving no appreciable distinction betweenii them and the demoniacal irruptions of scripture. For thlou,gh there be some talk of electricity and science, and a show of reducing the new discovered commerce to laws of calculable recurrence, it is much more likely to be established by their experiments, as a universal fact, that whatever being, of iwhatever woi~d, opens himself to the visitation, or invites the presence of powers, indiscriminately as respects their character,'whether it be under some tllin show of scientific practice or not, will assuredly have the commerce 126 OF BAD SPIRITS. invited! Far enough is it from being either impossible, or incredible, and exactly this is what our new school of charlatanism suggests, that immense multitudes of powers, interfused, in their self-active liberty, thllrough all the abysses and worlds of nature, have it as the battle-field of their good or malign activity, doing in it and upon it, as the scriptures testify, acts supernatural that extend to us. This being true, what shall be expected, but that where there is any thing congenial in temper or character to set open the soul, and nothing of antipathy to repel; or where any one, through a licentious curiosity, a foolish conceit of science, or a bad faith in powers of necromancy, calls on spirits to come, no matter from what world-in such a case what shall follow, but that troops of malign powers rush in uponl their victim, to practice their arts in him at will. I know nothing at all personally of these new mysteries; but if a man, as Townsend and many others testify, can magnetize his patient, evenii at the distance of miles, it should not seem incredible that foul spirits can magnetize also. This indeed was soon discovered in te power of spirits to come into mediums, and make them write and speak their oracles. It is also a curious coincidence that no one, as we are told, can be magnetized, or become a medium, or even be duly enliglhtened by a medium, who is uncongenial in his affinities, or maintains any quality of antipathy in his will, or temper, or character; for then the commerce sought is impossible. Beside it is remarkable that the persons who d-abble most freely il this kinid of commerce, are seen, as a general fact, to run down in their virtue, lose their sense of principles, and become addled, by their familiarity with the powers of misbchief. 127 CONCLUSION REACHED. In these -references to bad spirits, and the matter of demonology in genera], I do not assume to lave established any very decisive conclusioln; for the scripture representations can not he assumed as true, and the new demons of science I know nothing about, except by report. This only is made clear; that the suggestion of a condition privative in men, as regards their defense against the irruption of other powers, is one that can not be disproved by any facts within the compass of our knowledge. And since other powers doubtless exist, both good and bad, who are being sorted and fenced apart by the contrary affinities of character, nothing can be more consonant to reason than that there must be exposures to unseen mischief in our tria, till these eternal fences are raised. We find then-this is the result of our search-that sin can nowise be accounted for; there are no positive grounds, or principles back of it, whence it may have come. We only discover conditions privative, that are involved, as necessary incidents in the begun existence and trial of powers. These conditions privative are in the nature of perils, and while they excuse nothing, for the law of duty is always plain, they are yet drawn so close to the soul and open their gulfs, on either hand, so deep, that our expectation of the fall is really as pressing as if it were determined by some law that annihilates liberty. Liberty we know is not annihilated. And yet we say, looking on the state of man made perilous, in this manner, by liberty, that we can not expect him to stand. Some persons, who are accustomed to receive the scriptures with great reverence and whose feeling therefore is 128 THE CASE OF GOOD ANGELS the more entitled to respect, may be disturbed by the apprehension, that we violate what'they take for an evi dently scriptural truth concerning the good angels. These are finite beings, and had a begun existence, and yet we are taught, as it will be urged, that they have never fallen; showing a complete possibility of creating free beings, or powers that will never sin;-at which point our doctrine is seen to come into open and direct conflict with the scriptures. I have no pleasure, certainly, in raising a conflict with any opinion not absolutely corrupt, when it has been so long held, and with such unquestioning deference, by multitudes of christian believers. But I am obliged, by the terms of my argument, to make a revision of the evidences by which this opinion is sustained. In the AnteCopernican conceptions of the universe, such an opinion was more likely to be taken up than now; and it seems to be a relic of false interpretation then introduced. I find no clear evidence of any such opinion in the christian scriptures. They do affirm the existence of good angels, who, for aught that appears, have all been passed through and brought up out of a fall, as the redeemed of mankind will be. They affirm the existence also of bad. angels, who certainly-have not been kept from the experiment or choice of evil. A significant intimation is supposed to be found in thel text,,-"To the intent that now, unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places, might be known, by the church, the manifold wisdom of God "-as if here, for the first time, they were to be instructed, by the fct of human redemption.. But every thing manifestly turns here on the epithet "manifold," [.oxu~0oxixor,] rhich, in fact, means only diversed, not something new 129 AFFORDS NO VALID and strange; yielding us a hint, rather, which runs exactly contrary to the common opinion; viz., that the heavenly powers discover, only through the church of our world, another plan of grace and mercy unfolded, different from their own. In respect to the "new song," so often referred to in this connection, it is sufficient to say that it is joined by beings not of our race, and is abundantly new as related to a work of redemption among men; different in form and manner, as in sphere, from any other. But the principal or hinge text on this subject is the 6th verse of Jude's epistle,-"Andcl the angels that kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath reserved, &c.,"-leaving the implication, it is supposed, that other angels have kept their first estate, and stood fast in obedience. But this, it has been shown by Mr. Faber, in a full and somewhat overdone discussion,* is a totally mistaken conception of the passage. The term "angels," he has shown, refers to the "solns of God," whose apostasy is set forth in the 6th chapter of Genesis. The term?X, rendered "first estate," as denoting a moral condition, has no such meaning in any known example. It signifies rather a principate, or -,rincipaity, and the representation is, that certain persons of the Sethite, or church people, growing lewd and dissolute in their life, went over to the corrupt Cainites and joined them in their vices. This also is implied in the phrase "left their own habitation," [o0,,rx-piov,] their domicil, or native place and country; language entirely malapropos, when referred to celestial beings. Besides their crime was not angelic-the "going after strange flesh "-and, what is yet more stringent, their crime is defined by a comparison which shows * Three Dispensations, Vol. I., pp. 344-431. 130 OR SCRIPTURAL OBJECTION. exaectly what it wias-" Even as Sodoin and Gomorrah, and the cities about them, in like manner, giving theniselves over to fornication and going after strange flesh," &c. AndT finally, to render this inteirpretation yet more certain, it is shown that Josephus, in speaking of the "sons of God" in Genesis, calls thecii ac)?ye7s, and uses the same word [?X;,] principality, in describillng their apos tasy. On the whole, it does not appear that there is any vestige of authority, in Scripture, for the opinion that the good angels are being,s that have never sinned. Contrary to this, there are many passages that, without being severely )ressed, might be made to indicate the fact that they are all redeemed spirits. Thus, wvhere the desire of "angels to look into these things" is spolken of, an indication is -iven, not that they are unacquainted with any such fact as redemption, but of the contrary fact, that this appetite is awhetted by their experience. NWhy should they be so eager to look into a matter wholly ulnknown? So when the angels break into the sly, at the advent of Christ, crying "' Peace on earth," they seem to know, in their deepest leart's feeling already, what this "peace" signifies. It is remarkable also that the one only text of scripture that could fairly be insisted on, as a direct and formal declaration of scripture on this point, is that of the apostle, when, extolling the universal headship of Christ, lie says what apl)pears to be directly contrary to all these assumptions,-" By him to reconcile all tllings unto himself, whether they be things on earth, or things in heaven." Falling back then upon our oavn first principles, as re. quiredcl by the tenor of our argument, we find that angels, like men, are, by the supposition, finite -ein, s If finitef 131 NOT IIMPLIED THAT SIN thenii are they beings who think in succession, one thing after another, as we do. If so, then there was a point in the early date, or first hours of their existence, when they had thought little and had little experience, and of course knew as little as they had thought. And Ho, given the fact of their finite and begun existence, it seems to follow, as a conclusion, that they were in the same weakness, or condition privative, with us. What then can we judge, but that, probably, there is some ground-principle, or law, common both to them and to us, that involves them in the same fortunes with us, and requires a method of training and redemption analagous to that which is ordained for men? God, as we all agree, is a being who works by system-with a glorious variety and yet by system-and it would be singular for his plan to break down in some little department like ours, and go straight forward to its mark, in other and better-contrived parts of his creation. How much better and more consonant also to our feeling to suppose that there is some antecedent necessity, inherent in the conception of finite and begun existences, that, in their training as powers, they should be passed through the double experience of evil and good, fall and redemption. At the same time I am not anxious to carry my argunient so far; and I readily concede that it might be presumptuous to insist on such a conclusion, as being one of the known truths. I only ask that a similar concession be allowed, on the other side, as regards an opinion certainly not authenticated by scripture; for, when that is taken out of the way, as being a scriptural objection to my argument, I have no longer any concern with it. It may not be amiss to add. further, that what I have 132 IS ANY MEANS OF GOOD. here advanced, in a somewhat positive form, concerning sin, I value mostly as an hypothesis. Indeed what we want, to clear cur difficulties here, is not so much a doctrine, as to find that some rational hypothesis is possible. And my object is sufficiently gained when that is admitted. If it should be objected that my doctrine, or hypothesis here, is only another version of the scheme that accounts for sin as being the necessary means of the greatest good, it is enough to answer that I see no great reason to be concerned for it, even if it were. Still I do not perceive that it proposes to account for sin as being a means of any thing. It makes much of the knowledge of sin, or of its bitter consequences, and especially of the want of that knowledge, save as it is gotten by the bad experience itself. But the knowledge of sin is, in fact, knowing-that is the precise point of it-that it is the means of nothing good, that it is evil in all its tendencies, relations, operations, and results, and will never bring any thing good to any being. If then the knowing of sin to be the possible meals of no good is itself a means of good, wherein does it appear that I am reproducing the doctrine that sin is the necessary means of the greatest good? Because, it may be answered, sin, as a fact of consciousness, is by the supposition the necessary means of the knowledge of sin. But that, I reply, is a trick of argument practiced on the word means. Undoubtedly sin, as a fact of consciousness, is the necessary subject of the knowledge of sin. If it were affirmed that the knowledge of certain sunken rocks, in the track of some voyage, is,necessary to a safe passage, lhow easy to show, by just the argument here employed, that, since the rocks are a necessary means of the knowledge of 12 133 THE TRUE CONCEPTION (he rocks, the rocks are therefore, and by necessary consequence, the necessary'means of a safe passage! There is still another point, the existence of Satan, or the devil, and the account to be made of him, which is always intruded upon discussions of this nature, and can not well be avoided. God, we have seen, might create a realm of things and have it stand firm in its order; but, if He creates a realm of powers, a prior and eternal certainty confronts Him, of their outbreak in evil. And at just this point, we are able, it may be, to form some just or not impossible conception of the diabolical personality. According to the Alanichees or disciples of Zoroaster, a doctrine virtually accepted by many philosophers, two principles have existed together from eternity, one of which is the cause of good and the other of evil; and by this short process they make out their account of evil. With sufficient modifications, their account is probably true. Thus if their good principle, called God by us, is taken as a being, and their bad principle as only a condition privative; one as a positive and real cause, the other as a bad possibility that environs God from eternity, waiting to become a fact and certain to become a fact, whenever the opportunity is given, it is even so. And then it follows that, the moment God creates a realm of powers, the bad possibility as certainly becomes a bad actuality, a Satan, or devil, ili esse; not a bad omnipresence over against God, and His equal-that is a monstrous and horrible conception-but an outbreaking evil, or empire of evil in created spirits, according, to their order. For Satan, or the devil, taken in the singular, is not the name of any particular person, neither is it a personation merely of temptation 134 OF SATAN OR THE DEVIL. or impersonal evil, as many insist; for there is really no such thing as impersonal evil in the sense of moral evil; o)ut the name is a name that generalizes bad persons or spirits, with their bad thoughts and characters, many in one. That there is any single one of them who, by distinction or pre-eminence, is called Satan, or devil, is wholly improbable. The name is one taken up by the imaginiation to designate or embody, in a conception the mind can most easily wield, the all or total of bad mninds and powers. Even as Davenport, the ablest theologian of all the New England Fathers, represents, in his Cate chism; answering carefully the question,-" What is the devil? "-thus: "The multitude of apostate angels which, by pride, and blasphemy against God, and malice against man, became liars and murderers, by tempting him to that sin." There is also a further reason for this general unifying of the bad powers in one, or under one conception, in the fact that evil, once beginning to exist, inevitably becomes organic, and constructs a kind of principate or kingdom opposite to God. It is with all bad spirits, doubtless, as with us. Power is taken by the strongest, and weakness falls into a subordinate place of servility and abljectness. Pride organizes caste, and dominates in the sphere of fash ion. Corrupt opinions, false judgments, bad manners, and a general body of conventionalisms that represent the motherhood of sin, come into vogue and reign. And so, doubtless, every where and in all worlds, sin has it in its nature to organize, mount into the ascendant above God and truth, anid reigni in a kingdom opposite to God. And, in this view, evil is fitly represented in the scripture as organizing itself under Satan, or the devil, or the prince of 130 THE TRUE CONCEPTION this world, or the prince of the power of the air;-no pu. ling fiction of superstition, as many fiancy, but, rightly conceived, a grand, massive, portentous, and even tremendous reality. For though it be true that no such bad om nipresence is intended in the term Satan as some appear to fancy, there is represented in it an organization of bad mind, thought, and power, that is none the less imperial as regards resistance. At just this point many fall into the easy mistake of supposing that the bad organization finds its head in a particular person or spirit, who has all other bad spirits submissive and loyal under his will, and is called Satan as being their king. But they press the analogy too far, overlooking the fact that evil is as truly and eternally anarchy as organization. It is much better to understand, as in reference to bad spirits, what we know holds good in respect to the organic force of evil here aniong men. Evil is a hell of oppositions, riots, usurpations, in itself, and bears a front of organization only as against good. It never made a chief that it would not shortly dethrone, never set up any royal Nimrod or family of Nimrods it would not sometime betray, or expel. That the organic force of evil therefore has ever settled the eternal supremacy of some one spirit called devil, or Satan, is against the known nature of evil. There is no such order, allegiance, loyalty, faith, in evil as that. The stability of Satan and his empire consists, not in the force of some personal chieftainship, but in the fixed array of all bad minds, and even of anarchy itself, against what is good. As regards the naming process by which this devil, or Satan, is prepared, we may easily instruct ourselves by other analogies; such, for example, as "the man of sin." 136 OF SATAN OR THE DEVIL. and "anti-christ." These are the names, evidently, of no particular person. "The man of sin" is in fact all the netz of s?n, or the spirit that works in them; for the conception is that, as Christ has brought forth a gospel, so it is inevitable that sin will foul that gospel in the handling, and be a mystery of iniquity upon it. And this mystery of iniquity, as Paul saw, was already beginning to work, as work it must, till it is taken out of the way. And this working is to be the revelation of evil through the gospel, and of the gospel through evil. It includes the dogmatic usurpation, the priestly assumptions, the mock sacraments, and all the church idols, brought in as improvementsevery thing contributed to, and interwoven with, the gospel, by sin as a miracle of iniquity. When that process is carried through, the gospel will be understood; not before. It is also noticeable that what the devil, or Satan, is to God as a spirit, that also anti-christ is to Christ, the incarnate God-man. Anti-christ is, in fact, the devil of Christianity, as Satan is the devil of the Creation and Providence. As the devil too is singled out and made eminent by the definite aticle, so is anti-christ spoken of in the singular as one person. And then, again, as there arc many devils spoken of, so also it is declared that "-now there are many anti-christs." Satan then is a bad possibility, eternally existing prior to the world's creation, becoming, or emerging there into, a bad actuality-which it is the problem of Jehovah's government to master. For it has been the plan of God, in the creation and training of the powers, so to bring them on, as to finally vanquish the bad possibility or necessity that environed Hiim before the worlds were made; so to create and subjugate, or, by his love, regenerate the bad 12* 137 138 GOD'S PLAN NOT BROKEN UP, powers loosened by his act of creation, as to have them in eternal dominion. And precisely here is Hie seen in the grandeur of his attitude. WVe might yield to some opinion of his weakness, when pondering the dark fatality by which he is encompassed in the matter of evil; but when we see his plan distinctly laid, as a fowler's when he sets his net; that he is disappointed by nothing, and that all his counsels unfold in their appointed time and order, as when a general marches on his army in a course of victory; that he sets good empire against evil empire, and, without high words against his adversary, calmly proceeds to accomplish a system of order that comprehends the subjilgation of disorder, what majesty and grandeur invest his person! Nothing which he could have done by omnipotence, no silent peace of compulsion, no unconsenting order of things, made fast by his absolute will, could have given any such impression of his greatness and glory, as this loosening of the possibility of evil, in the purpose finally to turn it about by his counsel and transform it by his goodness and patience. What significance and sublimity is there, holding such a view, in the extatic words of Christ, when just about to finish his work- " I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven!" Nor any the less when his prophet testifies after him-" And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent called the devil and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world." "Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ." That salvation, strength, and kingdom, be it also observed, are not patches of mending laid upon the rent garnment of a broken plan, but issues and culminations of the eternal plan itself. The cross of redemption is no after BUT REAsCHING ON TO VICTORY. thought, but is itself the grand all-dominating idea around which the eternal system of God crystalizes; Jesus Christ, the "appointed heir of all things"-'" the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world." Hiere stands out the final end or cause of all things, here emerge the powers made strong and glorious. Weak, at first, unperfect, incomplete, they are now completed and glorified-complete in him, who is the head of all principality and power. 139 0 THE FACT OF SIN WE have been discussing the question of evil as a question of possibility, probability, prospect; we now come down to the question of fact-is it, or is it not a fact that sin exists? But in passing to this question, it appears to be required of us to state the object we have in it, and also to indicate, in advance, at the stage we have now reached, the course or drift of our argument. We propose then to show, first of all, the fact of sin. This being established, we shall next go into a computation or inspection of the effects of sin, and show that it is followed and must be by a general disturbance or collapse of nature; what we call nature being, iii fact, a state of unnature induced by the penal or retributive action of causes provoked by sin. Hence, unless disorder and frustration are to be eternal, a second higher movement is required, having force to restore the lapse of nature; which higher movement is the supernatural work of grace and redemption. In this view the unity itself of the system of God comprehends, it will be seen, two ranges of existence and operative force; nature and the supernatural; both complementary to each other; while the latter, comprising the powers, and all divine agencies exerted in their restoration, and containing all the last ends and highest workings and only perfect results of God's plan, is, by the supposition, chief above the other; having that to serve its uses, and be the organ of its exercise. The creation therefore is made for Christianity, and without that, Ile I THE FACT OF SIN. as a kingdom supernatural, the kingd(om of nature is only an absurd and fragmentary existenw, having no significance or end. The argument will lead me, of course, to an examination of some of the supernatural facts, or supposed facts, of Christianity. I am well aware of the necessary obscurity of this statemient, but as it is offered rather to indicate the course, than to convey any sufficient impression, of the argument proposed, I hope it may at least satisfy the purpose intended. I begin then with the question, whether it is a real and proper fact that sin exists? In discussing this question, I abstain altogether from any close theologic definition of sin. Undoubtedly there is a something called sin in the christian writings, which is not action, or wrong-doing; something not included in the Pelagian definitions of sin, as commonly presented. But my argument requires me to look no farther at present than to this, which is the simplest conception of the subject; inquiring whether there is any such thing in the world as properly blamable actioia? Is there a transgression of right, or of law, a positive disobedience to God-any thing that rationally connects with remorse, or carries the sense of guilt as a gen uinre reality? Of course it is implied that the transgressor does what no mere thing, nothing in the line of cause and effect, can do-acts against God; or, what is nowise differ ent, ag,ainst the constituent harmony of things issued from the will of God. ience the bad conceience, the sense of guilt or blame; that the wrong-doer recognizes in the act something from himself, that is not from any mere princi ple of nature, not from God, contrary to God. It appears, in one view, to be quite idle to raise this. 141 0 THE FACT OF SIN question. Why should we undertake the serious discus. sion of a question that every man has settled; why argue for a fact that every man acknowledges? It would indeed be quite nugatory, if all mankind could definitely see what they acknowledge. But they do not, and, what is more, many are abundantly ingenious to escape doing it In fact all the naturali.m of our day begins just here, in the denial, or disguised disallowance of this self-evident and every where visible fact, the existence of sin. Some times, where no such denial is intended or thought of, it is yet virtually made, in the assumption of some theory, or supposed principle of philosophy, which, legitimately car ried out, conducts and will conduct other minds also to the formal denial, both of the fact of sin,.nd of that respon sibility which is its necessary precondition. We ha ve thus a large class holding the condition of implicit naturalism, who assert what amounts to a denial of responsibility, and so of the possibility of sin, without denying formally the fact, or conceiving that any truth of Christianity as a supernatural religion is brought in question. Of these we may cite, as a prominent instance and example, the phrenologists, who are many of them disciples and earnest advocates of the Christian doctrine. Still it is not difficult to see that, if human actions are nothing but results brought to pass or determined, by the ratios of so many quantities of brain at given points under the skull, then are they no more fit subjects of reward, or blame, than the motions of the stars, determined also by their quantities of imatter. Therefore some phrenologists add the conception of a higher nature than the pulpy quantities; a person, a free-will power, presiding over them and only using them as its incentives and instruments, b-lt never mechanically 142 OFTEN DENIED UNDESIGNEDLY. determined by them. This takes phrenology out of the conditions of naturalism and, for just the same reason, and in the same breath, renders sin a possibility; otherwise the science, however fondly accepted as the ally of Christianity, (a sorry kind of ally at the best,) is only a tacit and implicit form of naturalism, that virtually excludes the faith of Christianity. On the other hand, we have met with advocates of naturalism, who have not been quite able to deny the existence of sin, or who even assert the fact in ways of doubtful significance. Thus MIr. Parker, in his "Discourses of Religion," having it for his main object to disprove the credibility of miracles and of every thing supernatural in Christianity, still admits in words the existence of sin. He even accounts it one of the merits of Calvinistic and Lutheran orthodoxy that it "shows (we quote his own language,) the hatefulness of sin and the terrible evils it brilngs upon the world;"* and, what is yet more decisive, he represents it as being one of the faults of the moderate school of Protestants, that "they reflect too little on the evil tat comes from violating the law of God."t And yet the whole matter of supernaturalism, which he is discussing, hinges on precisely this and nothing else; viz., the question whether there is any such thing as a real "violation of the law of God," any "hatefulness in sin," any "terrible evils brought on the world" by means of it. For to violate the law of God is itself an act supernatural, out of the order of nature, and against the order of nature, as truly even as a miracle, else it is nothing. The very sin of the sin is that it is against God, and every thing that comes from God; the acting of a soul, or power, against the con *Discourses of Religion, p. 453. + Idem, p. 465. 143 AMBIGUOUS DOCTRINE stituent frame of nature and its internal harmony; followed therefore, as in due time, we shall show, by a real disorder of nature, which nothing but a supernatu ral agency of redemption can ever effectually repair. Of this, the fundamental fact on which, in reality, the whole question he is discussing turns, he takes no manner of notice. Admitting the existence of sin, his speculations still go on their way, as if it were a fiact of no significance in regard to his argument. If he lhad sounded the question of sin more deeply, ascertaining what it is and what it involves, he might well enough have spared himself the labor of his book-. He either would never have written it at all, or else he would have denied the existence of sin altogether, Las being only a necessary condition of the supernatural. And we- are the more confirmed in the opinion that his denial of supernaturalism begins in a state of mental ambiguity respecting sin, from the fact that exactly this ambiguity is manifested in his work itself. Thus, when speaking of the wrongs and the oppressive inequalities discovered in the distributions of society, he refers them, if we understand him rightly, to causes in human nature, not to the will, in its abuse or breach of nature. iHe says,-" Ve find the root of all in man himself. In him is the same perplexing antithesis which we meet in all his works. These conflicting things existed as ideas in him, before they took their present concrete shape. Discordant causes [in his nature we understand,] have produced effects not harmonious. Out of man these institutions have grown; out of his passions or his judgment, his senses or his soul. Taken together they are the exponent which indicates the character and degree of development 144 OF MR. PARKER. the race has now attained."* Out of his passions or his judgment, his senses or his soul! Whence then did they come? for this appears to be a little ambiguous. And what if it should happen that they came out of neither — out of no ground, or cause in nature whatever, but out of the will as a power transcending nature. If these bitter wrongs of society, such as war, slavery, and the like, which AIr. Parkler has so often denounced in terms so nearly violent, kindling, as it were, a hell of words in which to burn them before the time; if these bitter wrongs are nothing but developments of "discordant causes " in human nature, then wherein are they to be blamed? " Violations of the law of God!" do God's own causes violate his law? Bringing "terrible evils on the world!" how upon the world, when Godcl himself has put the evils in it, as truly as he has put the legs of a frog in the tadpole out of which it grows. "Hatefulness of sin!" Is the mere development of God's own constituted works and causes hateful? Is the dog-star morally hateful because it rises in July? But the advocates of naturalism are commonly more thoroagh and consistent; not consistent with each other, that is too much to be expected, but consistent with themselves, in trying each to find some way of disallowing sin, or so far explaining it away, as to reduce it within the terms of mere cause and effect in nature. Thus, for example, Fourier conceives that what we call sin, by a kind of misnomer, is predicable only of society, not of the individual man. Considered as creatures of God, all men, as truly as the first man before sin, have and continue always to have a right anid perfect nature, in the same manner as the stars. Hie accordingly assumes it as the Discourses 6f Religion, p. 12. 1 3 14,5 ASSUMIPTION OF FOURIER. fundamental principle of the new science that,-" Man's attractions," like theirs, "are proportioned to his destinies;" so that, by means of his passions, he will even gravitate naturally toward the condition of order and well-being,, with the same infallible certainty as they. It only happens that society is not fitly organized, and that produces all the mischief. There really is no sin, apart from the fact that men have not had the science to organize society rightly. He does not appear to notice the fact that if these human stars, called men, are all harmoniously tempered and set in a perfect balance of inward attractions, by them to be swayed under the laws of cause and effect, that fact i.s organization, the very harmony of the spheres itself. And then the assumption that society is not fitly: organized, or badly disorganized, is simply absurd; not less absurd the hope that man is going to scheme it into organization himself. Doubtless society is badly enough, organized, but we have no place for the faict and can have none till we look on men as powers, not under cause and effect; capable, in that manner, of sin, and liable to it; through the bad experiment of it, to be trained up into character, which is itself the completed organization of felicity. Under this view bad organization, or disorganization, is possible, because sin is possible; anid will be a fact, as certainly as sin is a fact-otherwise either possible, nor a fact. But as we are dismissing, in this mannlier, the inconsequent and baseless theory of Fourier, there comes up, on the other side, exactly opposite to him, the very celebrated theologian of naturalism, Dr. Strauss, who inverts the main point of Fourier, charging all the misdo ings and miseries of the human state, commonly called 146 DENXIAL OF DRi. STRAUSS. sins, on the individual, leaving s )cicty blameless anci yven perfect. Finding, the word s/i asserting, a riglitful place in human language, lie is not so unphilosophical as to insist on its being cast out; on the contrry, hlie cven speaks of "tlhe sinfulness of human nature;" but bv this he understands only that individuals must needs suffer so much of personal mischief and defect, in a way of carryig on tlhe historic dclevelol)pment of the race. In this view lie says,"Humanity [i. e. taken as a whole,] is the sinless existence; for the course of its dca-velopmcnt is a blameless one: pollution cleaves to the individuals only, aind does not touch the race and its history." "Sinful lhuman nature" tulrns out, in tlis maniner, to be the "sinless existence." The individuals whom we call "sinners" and regard as under "pollution" are yet seen to be " bIlameless" silnners: so icngenioulsly "p olluted " that the pollution which infects all tlhe inidividuals does not once touch thle race! If there be any miracle in supernaturalism more wonderful tlhan this, let us be informed where it is. The truth aIppears to be that Dr. Strauss could not formally deny the fact of sii,qnud y-et had no place for it. HIe threw it, therefore, into a limbo of ambiguities, where he could recoignize it as a fact, and yet make nothing of it. Still there is so much of ingenuity in this method of gettin g rid of sin, the absurdity of it is disguised under so finle a s how of philosophy, that much weakler and less cultivatedl men tlhan Dr. Strauss anticipated him in it, and, without knowing, as well as he, what their wise saying mean t, were as greatly pleased as he with the plausible air cf it. Pope rhymesit thus, a,hundred ways, that, " Respecting man, whatever wrong we call AIay, must be.right, as relative to all." I 147 THE POPULAR LITERATURE. The popular literature of our time, represented by such writers as Carlyle and:Emerson, is in a similar vein; not always denying sin, for to lose it would be to lose the spico and spirit of half their representations of humanity; but contriving rather to exalt and glorify it, by placing both it and virtue upon the common footing of a natural use and necessity. Glorifying also themselves in the plausible audacity of their offense; for it is one of the frequent infirmities of literature that it courts effect by taking on the airs of licentiousness. But this kind of originality has now come to its limit or point of reaction; for, when licentiousness becomes a theory, regularly asserted, and formally vindicated, it is +hen no better than truth. The poetry is gone, and it dies of its own flatness. Thus we have seen a volume recently issued from the American press, the formal purpose of which is to show, even as a christian fact, the blamelessness of sin; nay more, that the main object of Jesus Christ in his mission of love, is to disabuse the world of the imposture, deliver it of the terrible nightmare of sin. Not to deliver it of sin itself-that is a mistake-but to deliver it of the conviction of sin, as an illusive and baleful mistake gendered by the superstition of the world! If any thing can be taken for a certain proof that mankind are infatuated by some strange illusion, such as sin alone may breed, it would seem to be the fact itself that they are able to impose upon themselves and one another, by these feeble perversities that, despite of afl the best known, best attested facts of life, contrive to put on still the airs of science and n,intain the pretences of reason. Passing oil from these oppositions of science, falsely so 148 APPEAL TO OBSERVATION. called, let us refer to some of the formal proofs that sin is an existing fact. Scripture authority is out of the question, which we do not regret; for the practical and palpable evidences that meet us in the simple inspection of humanity itself are abundantly sufficient. The question here, it will be observed, is not whether men are totally depraved, or depraved at all; nor whether they sin continually; but simply whether they do actually sin?-whether, in fact, sin'exists? Nor is it implied that all sins are equally blamable; for, beyond a question, great numbers of persons are steeped in contaminating influences from their earliest childhood, and pass into life under the heaviest loads of moral disadvantage. Regarding their acts, nothing is sin to such, but what they do as sin. The object we have in view is sufficiently answered by the adequate proof of a single sin; for the argument of naturalism goes the length of denying all sin, even the possibility of sin; so that if one man is able, as a power, to break out of nature and do a sin against it, the whole theory is dissolved. The power of liberty that can do one sin,,can do more; and if only one man has it, he must either be a miracle himself, or else other men can do the same. WAVe begin with an appeal to observation, alledging as a fact that we do, by inevitable necessity, impute blame to acts of injury done us by others. We can as easily avoid making a shadow in the sun, as we can avoid a sentiment of blame, when we are designedly injured by a fellow man. We do it, not as a pettish child may pelt a thistle on which he has trodden, not in any dispossessed state or momentary ft of anger, but even after years of reflection 13* 149 APPEAL TO OBSERVATION. have passed away; nay, after we have bathed the wrong done us, for so long a fime, in the cleansing waters of forgiveness. Still we condemn the wrong and must, as long as we exist; our forgiveness itself implies that we do; for what is there to be forgiven, if there be nothing that we condclemn? Thus, if there be two partners in tradcc, and one of them absconds with all the profits and funds of the e(stablishmient, leaving the other, with his family, victims to the common liabilities, and fo a necessary doom, for life, of poverty; by what art can either he, or they, ever manage to eradicate their sense of wrong, or the blame they impute to the perfidious man whose crime has been the despoiler of their life? They may forgive him, they may follow him with their prayers to the hour of his last breath, but they will pray as for a guilty man, whose crime is the bitternless of his life, as it has been the burden of theirs. Suppose now they turn philosophers and make the discovery that there is no sin, that all actions take place under the necessary law of cause and effect, and manage to smooth over, with this fine apology, all the crimes they hear of in the world; still that one man that robbed them of their all-how stubborn a fact is he, how unreducible to their theory! His very name means all that sin ever means, and they can as easily tear out their own hleart-strings, as they can empty that name of the blame it signifies. Or suppose a man writes a book, the precise object of which is to show that there is, and can be no such thing as sin, and then that his workl is assaulted, as he thinks, with unfair representations and malicious constructions, what will you more certainly see, than that he is out immediately against his accusers, in the most violent denun. 150 APPEAL TO CONSCIOUSNESS. ciations of their bigotry, and the wicked untruths of their criticism. Now, if the book was true, if there is no sin that is blamable, what have they done to be so bitterly blamed? What they have done is simply natural, and is no more to be condemned than a frosty night. It will nowise diminish the force of our supposition to add that it might well enough be given as historic fact. 1i which, also, we may see how-certainly every man's rational and moral instincts whri triumph, after all, over his theories and formal arguments, when he undertakes to deny or dipprove the fact of siln. We go farther. So confident are we in this matter that, if there be any man living who undertakes to be consistent in the denial of sin, setting it down however firmly, as a point of will, never to blame any injury done to others or to himself, we will engage, in case he is able to spend four wakling hours without any single thought or feeling of blame as against any human creature, to admit the truth of his doctrine. WV have another proof, in the fact that we as positively and necessarily blame ourselves; not in every thling-my argument does not require me to go that length-enough that wve do it on particular occasions, distinctly noted and remembered. And here we are bold to affirm that every person of a mature age, and in his right mind, remembers turns, or crises in his life, where he met the question of wrong face to face, and by a hard inward struggle broke through the sacred convictions of duty that rose up to fence him back. It was some new sin to which he had not become familiar, so much worse perhaps in degree as to be the entrance to him consciously of a new stage of guilt 151 APPEAL TO CONSCIOUSNESS. He remembers how it shook his s eal and even his body; how he shrunk in guilty anticipation from the new step of wrong; the sublime misgiving that seized him, the awkward and but half-possessed manner in which it was taken, and then afterward, perhaps even after years have passed away, how, in some quiet hour of the day or wakeful hour of night, as the recollection of that deed-not a public crime, but a wrong, or an act of vice-returned upon him, the blood rushed back for the moment on his fluttering heart, the pores of his skin openccl, and a kind of agony of shame and self-condemnation, in one word, of remorse, seized his whole person. This is the consciousness, the guilty pang, of sin; every man knows what it is. We have also observed this peculiarity in such experiences; that it makes no difference at all what temptations we were under; we probably enough do not even think of them; our soul appears to scorn apology, as if some higher nature within, speaking out of its eternity, were asserting its violated rights, chastising the insult done to its inborn affinities with immutable order and divinity, and refusing to be farther humbled by the low pleadings of excuse and disingenuous guilt. To say, at such a time, the woman tempted me, I was weak, I was beguiled, I was compelled by fear and overcome, signifies nothing. The wrong was understood, and that suffices. Nor is it only in these times of conscious compunction that we are seen to blame ourselves as transgressors. We do it tacitly or unconsciously, in ways that are even more striking. Thus it may be seen that large assemblies of men, not the worst of their species, not the ignorant or the broken spirited victims of depression, not the felons or outcasts of society, but the most intelligent, most honest 152 APPEAL TO CONSCIOUSNESS. and honorable, and generally most exemplary as regards their conduct, will come together once in seven days, and sit down to the exposure and charge of their sin, without even a thought of offense or insult. And what is more, that kind of preaching which probes them most faithfully, and most disturbs their consciences, will most invite their attendance, if only there is no violence, or fanaticism in the manner. Any sober and rational exposure of their sin, however piercing, they will submit to, take it as their privilege, and pay for it cheerfully, year by year! Why now is this? Simply because they are sinners and know the charge to be true. WVere they charged in this mnanner with being thieves, pickpockets, or assassins, all husbands and wives arraigned as false, all children as parricicles, all citizens as perjurers and traitors, all merchants and bankers as dishonest and fraudulent dealers, they would instantly repel the charge; their indignation could not be restrained for a moment. Nor is it any thing to say that they have been educated into the faith that they are transgressors, living in the guilt of sin, and submit to the charge as toone of their superstitions. It is not as being a dogma that the charge has any reality to them; indeed they often repel it as such and deny it. It has never any power, till it is wielded in such a manner as to stir the consciousness, and draw out thence a fresh verdict of conviction. We do then blame ourselves. It is one of the most real andct tremendous facts of our consciousness; which, if a man will seek to explain away, by resolving it into cause and effect, it will yet remain, defying and scorning all his argtLments. He knows that he himself did the sin, and no :,use back of himself. It is a fact, self-pronouncedl in his 153 O U R 1NDICArIONiS broW consciousness, and of which he can no more divest himself than he can stay the consciousness of his existence. Chloroform may rid him of it, but not argument. Again, it is a fact constantly perceived that, where mnen do not occupy themselves with thoughts of blame, or conscious admissions of guilt, they are yet exercised in ways that imply it, and prove it only the more convincingly. The moment we look out upon the race, and take note of mankind, as revealed in their most superficial demonstrations, we discover that they are out of rest, plagued by the foul demon of guilt. A malefactor aspect invests their conduct. Not byr altars only of sacrifice, smoking under every sky; not by pilgrimages, abstinences, vigils, flagellations of the body, self-immolations, and other voluntary tortures; not by the giving way even of natural affection before this dreadful horror of the mind, yielding up the children of the body to pacify the sins of the soul-not by these misdirected expedients and pains of guilt alone do we discover its existence, but by others, more silent and convincing. Take, for a single example, the remarkable fact of a universal shyness of God-a fact conceded by society, and made the basis even of a common law of politeness. Why is this, why is it accepted as a universal law of politeness, never to obtrude upon others the subject of religion, or of God and the soul, without some previous intimation or discovery that the subject will not be unwelcome. Because it is presumed not to be welcome. It is not because God and the soul are questionable realitieswe love to converse of things unreal, or imaginary, as well as of those which are real. It is not because, being real. 154 TIIE CONSCIOUSNESS OF SIN. they are matters about which there are many different opinions-so there are about politics, literature, philosophy, science, art, and almost every other subject. It is not because, being real, God is not the loftiest, purest and, in himself, most ennobling, most inspiring, most radiant subject of communication; his government the richest fountain of wisdom; and the soul an interest to itself that dwarfs all others. Neither is it because a population of pure, angelic intelligences, occupying this same world of ours, and immersed in similar employments, would not meet the vision of God in all his works, and would not hasten to refresh themselves in these transcendent themes. The only and true explanation is that God and the soul are themes that move disturbance. They suggest blame, they lacerate, in this manner, the comfort of the mind. So well understood is it that mankind are shy of God, and that humanity is itself the sign of a bad conscience, that it is tacitly voted and becomes an accepted law of politeness, never to approach this one proscribed subject, without a previous discovery that it can be done without offense. Nor is it any excuse or clearance of the sign, to say that manifestly such subjects ought not to be promiscuously spoken of in all places and circles. This we admit. Still the question is, why they may not? And the only an swer is, that which we have given; that men are under a subtle and tacit, but damning sense of blame, and can not bear, on all occasions, or any where but in the public assemblies of religion, to have subjects introduced that remind them of it, and stir again th~ guilt of their conscience. There would never be any such places or occasions, in a population of sinless beings. 155 WE ACT ON THE ASSU3IPTION Is this tacit blame then, that appears to haunt the world and drive it from itA lest, a mere fiction? Are we still under cause and effect, as truly as a river flowing toward the ocean, only not able ourselves to discover the fact? Bitter hardship, that we can not be allowed the placidity of the river! We have yet another proof, in the fact that mankind are seen to be acting universally on the assumption, that wrong is done, or is likely to be dclone in the world. Every man of business, having only ordinary intelligence, assumes it ias a point of natural discretion, that he is beset with wrong-doers, who will take every advantage and seize every opportunity, and holds it as a first maxim tc trust no man, till he has somehow given a title to confi dence. Not that men are generally weak, and prone to wNhat is miscalled wrong, by reason of their natural infirmity. Contrary to this, it is the very point of his concern, that they are so capable and so ready to be wickled in the use of their capacity. The smallest part of his concern is to look out for such as may fail him by their lack of energy or talent, and these are a class by themselves. To guard against the others is his principal study, and they are so many, so greedy, and plausible, and false, and hasten to the prey by so many methods, that his only safety is in the presumption that every man will take advantage and do him a wrong if he can. So, in what is called family government, every thing is set upon a footing that anticipates wrong. Otherwise we might exist in a,family state and never hear or think of a government as pertaining to it, any more than we now dlo of a government in the garden, to preside over the 156 THAT WRONGS ARE A GREAT PERIL 157 conduct of the flowers. Indeed, if there is no danger of wrong-doing in children, the forming,,of perverse tempers, the indulgence of wicked passions, the breaking down, by wills unchastened, of all sacred principles, why not suffer tnem to unfold naturally, as the flowers do; for even inexperience and neglect will as certainly blossom into virtue, if virtue it can be called, as they into their own odors and colors. Contrary to this, we assume the need of government, that is of authority, command, correction, that the beginnings of evil mn.ay be checked, and principles of virtue established. Doubtless there is such a thing as unrighteous and barbarous severity practiced in the name of government; still there must be government; for whatever parent undertakes to act on the assumption that the misdoing will be only mistake, or inexperience, and no intended or blarmable wrong, (as we understand some are now doing, in order to justify their theories,) will assurecdly find that something comes to pass, in the history of their children, that is a great deal more like wrong thanr they could wish! WAN-h, again, do we organize the civil state, why fence. about society with laws, enforcing them by severe alndl even sanguinary punishments? If there is no blamable wrong in the world or danger of any, why so careful to defend ourselves against what our laws by a mistake, call wrongs, or crimes; such as frauds, forgeries, robberies, violations of liberty, character and clastity, murders, assassinations? Why these manifold acts of penal legislation against wrong-doing, if wrong, as a matter of blame, is out of the question, or if nothing has ever occurred in the world to suggest the fact, and discover the danger of wrong? The answer to all this will be, that what we 14 TO OUR EXISTENCE. call wrong, in this manner, is public evil, and must be restrained, but still is not really blamable, because it takes place under laws of nature, and by natural necessity. Are we then expecting, in this manner, to punish and put a stop to the laws of nature? and so to perform, by legislation, the miracles we deny in our arguments? What means this array of courts, constables, and marshals, the grated prisons, the hurdles and scaffolds, the solemn farce of trials and penal sentences? Are they simply barriers or institutes of defense, in which we array causes againlst the harmful action of other causes, as the Hollanders raise dykes against the sea? Then why do we call this "ciinmiia(l law?" and why has it never occurred to the Hollanders to conceive that their dykes are raised against the criminal misdoings of the sea? Besides we are afraid even of the law; trying, by every method possible, to invent checks and balances against usurpations and abuses of power; so to make power responsible, and to hedge about even our tribunals of justice by penal enactments against bribery, connivance, and arbitrary contempt of law; as if wanting still some defense against even our defenders, and the more terrible wrongs they are like to perpetrate, in the abuse of those powers which have been committed to their hands. And then, again, when the people, groaning for long years under the misrule of a tyrant, rise up against him, instigated by the woes they have suffered, and pluck him down from his throne, bring him to solemn trial and sentence him to die, do they lay no blame on his head, or do they only cut off the thing, as the blameless impediment to their rights and liberties? We perceive, in this manner, how the whole superstructure of tihe civil order rests on the conviction that sin is in 158 FORGIVENESS SUPPOSES SIN. the worild. WAVe assume it as a fact, the terrible fact, of hitman existence. No one doubts it. "save here and thei'e some busy Sophist, who thinks to hold his theories against all fact and experience, and against the spontaneous, practical jucldg,ments of the race-protected, wh-ile he does it, in the very liberty of his mind, and the life of his body, by laws that, under his theories, might as well set themselves to forbid the fermentation of substances, or to arraign and punish the poisonous growth of vegetables. ' AVWe have still another class of proofs, teat are more sub tle and closer to what may be called the latent sense of the soul; and, for just that reason, as much more convincing when once they are brought into the light; we speak of certain sentiments that appear to be universal, and the natural validity of which we never suspect. Take, for a first example, the sentiment or virtue of forgiveness. Does any one doubt the reality of forgiveness? does any one refuse to commend forgiveness as a necessary and even noble virtue? Forgiveness to what? Forgiveness to cause and effect, forgiveness to the weather, forgiveness to the mildewv, or the fly that brings the blasted harvest? No! forgiveness to wrong, blamable and guilty wrong. Forgiveness and wrong are relative terms. If there is nothing to blame-there is nothing to forgive. One of two things, then, must be true; either that there has been some blamable wrong in the world, or else that the forgiveness we think of, speak of, inculcate, and commend, is a baseless phantom, out of all reality, as destitute of dignity and beauty as of solidity and truth. Indeed, there is no place in human language for the word, any more t])an for the naming of a sixth sense that does not exist. 159 SATIRE AND TRAGEDY The pleasure we takle in satire, may be cited as another example. This pleasure consists in cauterizing, or seeing cauterized by wit, the perverse follies, the abortive pride, or the absurd airs and manners of such as morally deserve this kind of treatment. Satire supposes a free and responsible subject, who might be seriously blamed, but can be more efficiently treated by this lighter method, which, instead of denouncing the guilt, plays off the absurdities, and mrocks the sorry figure, of sin. Satire supposes demerit, or a blamable defect of virtue; and, where the mark is too high to be reached by rebuke or civil indictment, even crinfe may be fitly chastised by it. The point to be distinctly noted is, that there is no place for satire, and we have no sympathy with it, except where there is, or is supposed to be, some kind of moral delinquency or ill desert. No poet thilnks to satirize the sea, or a snow storm, or a club foot, or a monkey, or a fool. But he talkes a man, a sinning man, who has deformed himself by his excesses, perversities, or crimes, and against him invokles the terrible Nemesis of wit and satire. Regarding him simply as a thing, under the laws of cause and effect, we should have as little satisfaction or pleasure in the infliction, as if it were laid upon a falling body. We have yet another and sublimer illustration, in the abysses of the tragic sentiment-that which imparts an interest so profound to human history, to the novel and the drama, and even to the crucifixion of Jesus himself. The staple matter of emotion, all that so profoundly moves our feeling in these records of fact and fiction, is that here we look upon the conflict of good and badi powers, the glory and suffering of one, the hellish art and malice of tihe other, followed or not followed by the sublime vindica 160 SUPPOSE THE FACT OF SIN. tions of providential justice. It is the war, actual or imagined, of beauty and deformity, good and evil, in their higher examples. In this view, we have a deeper sense of awe, a vaster movement of feeling, in the contemplation of a man, a mere human creature, in a character demonized by passion, than we have in the rage of the sea, or the bursting fire-storm of a volcano; because we regard him as a power-a bad will doing battle with God and the world. Be it a Macbeth, an Othello, a Richard, a Faust, a Napoleon, or only the Jew Fagin, we follow him to his end, quivering as under some bad spell, only then to breathe again with freedom, when the storm of his destiny is over, and the wild, fiery mystery that struggled in his passion is solved. But suppose it were to come to us, in the heat of our tragic exaltation, as a real conviction, that these characters are, after all, only natural effects, mere frictions of things, acting from no free power in themselves; forthwith, at the instant, every feeling of interest vanishes, and we care no more for their petty tumults than we do for the effervescence of a salt, or the skim that mantles a pool. All tragic movement ceases when the powers make their exit; for, if now we call them men, they yet are only things, like Lion, Wall, and Moonshine, left to fill the stage with their absurd mockeries. What means it now for the Lady Macbeth to*be crying to the blood,-" Out, damned spot!" if there is no longer any such thing as a damned spot of guilt in her murderous soul. Expunge the faith of that, and the rage of her remorse turns at once to comedy-that, and nothing more. Now, in these and other like sentiments, constantly brought into play, spontaneous, clear of all affectation, never questioned as absurdities or fictions, we encounter 14* 161 MISDIRECTION, NO TRUE some of the sublimest, most irresistible evidences that men are capable of sir and are in it. If it is not so, then it is very clear that all the deepest sentiments of the human bosom are only impostures of natural weakness, destitute of dignity as of truth. It remains to add that the objections offered to disprove the existence of sin, and the solutions of what is called sin, advanced by the naturalists, are insufficient and futile, and even imply the fact itself. Most of these have been already answered in the course of our argument-such as that the acting of a creature against God is inconceivable; for such a capacity was shown to be included in the very conception of a free agent, or power;-that if God really desires no sin, he has all force to prevent it; for a power, it was shown, is not immediately controllable by force;that sin supposes a breach of God's system; for his system is a system, we have seen, not of things, but of powers, and maintains the organic nisus of its aim as perfectly among the discords it has undertaken to reduce and assimilate, as if no act of discord had occurred. Meantime it will be seen that the notion of evil, most commonly advanced by the naturalizing skeptics, is one that really involves and admits the guilt of sin, even though advanced to clear it of the element of guilt.' "Jfisdirection" is the word they apply-they call it misdirection-and in this, or something answering to this, they universally agree. Even where there is only a partially developed system of naturalism, and the existence of sin is not formally denied, a certain affinity for this word will be discovered. Thus Mr. Parker, speaking of piracy, war, and the slave trade, suggests that these and similar evils are wrongs that come 162 SYN'ONYM OF SIN. of the "abuse, misdirection, and disease of human nature."* This word misdirection has the advantage that it slips all recognition of blame or responsibility, because it brings into view no real agency or responsible agent. And hence it becomes a favorite word, and is formally proposed by many advocates of naturalism, as the philosophie synonym of sin. Be it so then, put it down as agreed, that sin is misdirection, and that so far there is a real something in it. Then comes the question, who is it, what is it, that misdirects? Is the mnisdirectionl, of God? That will not be said. Mfr. Parker uses also, it will be observed, the term "disease." Will it then be said that piracy, war, and the slave trade are the misdirections only of disease, as when the hand of a lunatic, misdirected by a pressure on the brain, takes the life of his friend! Was it only for such innocent misdirection as this that MIr. Parker inveighed so bitterly against the great statesman of New England, as having bowed himself to slavery? Was it then the misdirection of cause and effect, in the constituent principles of human nature? This indeed appears to be intimated in another place, when it is declared that,-" Discordant causes have produced effects not harmonious."t Is the boasted system then of nature a discordant, blundering, misdirecting system? If so, it should not be wholly incredible that nature may sometime blunder into a miracle. Is it then given us, for our privilege, to look over the sad inventory of the world's history, the corruptions of truth and religion, the bloody persecutions, the massacres of the good, the revolutions against appressions and oppressors, and the combinations of power to crush them, if success * Discourses of Religion, p. 13. f Discourses of Religion, p. 12. 163 MISDIRECIION, NOT SIN. ful, caste, slavery and the slave trade, piracy and war, tramping in blood over desolated cities and empires-can we look on these and have it as our soft impeachment to say, that they are only the misdirections of discordant causes in human nature? That has never been the sense of mankind, and never can be. There is no account to be made of these misdirections, till we bring into view man as he is; a power capable of misdirecting himself and guilty in it, because he does it, swayed by no causes in or out of himself, but by his own self-determining will. Doubtless there is abundance of misdirection; almost every thing we know is misdirected, the world is full of it, the whole creation groaneth in the sorrows, wrongs, punishments, and pains of it. And then we have it as the true account of all, that man is the grand misdirector. IHe turns God's world into a hell of misdirection, and that is his sin. Apart from this, any such thing as misdirection is inconceivable. Nature yields no such thing; and, if man is a part only of nature, under her necessary laws of cause and effect, there will be as little place for misdirection in his activities, as there is in the laws of chemistry, or even of the solar system. The plea of misdirection, therefore, is itself a concession of the fact of sin, which fact we now assume to be sufficiently established to support and be a sure foundation for our future argument 164 CHAPTER VI. THE CONSEQUENCES OF SIN. IT is very evident that, if Sill is a fact, it must be followed by important consequences; for, as it has a moral significance considered in the aspect of blameworthiness, guilt, penal desert, and remorse, so also it has a dynamic force, considered as acting on the physical order and sphere of nature; in the contact and surrounding of which, its transgressions take effect. In one view, it is the fall of virtue; in the other, it is the disorder and penal dislocation both of the soul and of the world. As crime, it demolishes the sacred and supernatural interests of character; as a force, operating through and among the retributive causes arranged for the vindication of God's law, it is the disruption of nature, a shock of disorder and pain that unsettles the apparent harmony of things, and reduces the world to a state of imperfect, or questionable beauty. What I now propose, then, is the investigation of sin regarded in the latter of these two aspects; or to show what consequences it operates or provokes, in the field of nature. It is not to be supposed that sin has power to annul or discontinue any one of the laws of nature. The same laws are in action after the sin, or under it, as before. And yet, these laws continuing the same, it is conceivable that sin may effect what is really, and to no small extent, a new resolution or combinationi which is, to the ideally perfect state of nature, what disorder is to order, deformity to beauty, pain to peace. This, of course, it will do, if at SIN PROVOKES all, by a force exerted in the material world, and through the laws of nature. At the point of his will, man is a force, we have seen, outside of nature; a being supernatural, because he is able to act on the chain of cause and effect in nature from without the chain. It follows then, of course, that by acting in this manner upon nature, he can vary the action of nature from what would be its action, were there no such thing as a force external to the scheme. Nature, indeed, is submitted to him, as we have seen, for this very purpose; to be varied in its action by his action, to receive and return his action, so to be the field and medium of his exercise. Thus it is a favorite doctrine of our times, that the laws of the world are retributive; so that every sin or departure from virtue will be faithfully and relentlessly punished. The very world, we say, is a moral economy, and is so arranged, under its laws, that retribution follows at the heels of all sin. And by this fact of retribution, we mean that disease, pain, sorrow, deformity, weakness, disappointmient, defeat, all sorts of groanings, all sizes and shapes of misery, wait upon wrong-doers, and, when challenged by their sin, come forth to handle them with their rugged and powerful discipline. We conceive that, in this way, the aspects of human society and the world, are to a considerable degree, determined. But we do not always observe that nature is, by the supposition, just so far displayed under a variation of disorder and disease. First appear the wrongs to be chastised, which are not included in the causations of nature, otherwise they were blame]ess; then the laws of nature, met by these provocations, commence a retributive action, such as nature. 166 a RETRIBUTIVE CONSEQUENCES. unprovoked, would never display. The sin has fallen into nature as a grain of sand into the eye-and as the eye is the same organ that it was before, having the same laws, and is yet so far changed as to be an organ of pain rather than of sight, so it is with the laws of nature, in their penal and retributive action now begun. Sin, therefore, is, by the supposition, such a force as may suffice, in a society and world of sin, to vary the combinations, and display a new resolution of the activities, of nature. The laws remain, but they are met and provoked by a new ingredient not included in nature; and so the whole field of nature, otherwise a realm of harmony, and peace, and beauty, takes a look of discord, and, with many traces of its original glory left, displays the tokens also of a prison and a hospital. Thus far we have spoken of the power there is in sin to provoke a different action of natural causes. It also has a direct action upon nature to produce other conjunctions of causes, and so, other results. The laws all continue their action as before, but the sin committed varies the combinations subject to their action, and in that manner the order of their working. Indeed, we have seen that nature is, to a certain extent, submitted by her laws to the action of firee supernatural agents; which implies that her action can be varied by their sovereignty without displacing the laws, nay in virtue rather of the submission they are appointed to enforce. I thrust my hand, for exaniple, into the fire, producing thus a new conjunction of causes, viz., fire and the tissues of the hand; and the result corresponds-a state of suffering ar d partial disorganization. In doing this, I have acted only through the laws of nature-the nervous cord has carried down mv mandate to the muscles of the arm, the muscles have contracted 167 SIN ALSO PRODUCES obediently to the mandate, the fire has done its part, the nerves of sensation hate brought back their report, all in due order, but the result is a pain or loss of the injured member, as opposite to any thing mere nature would have wrought by her own combinations, as if it were the fruit of a miracle. So it is with all the crimes of violence, rob bery, murder, assassination. The knife in the assassin's hand is a knife, doing what a knife should, by the laws which determine its properties. The heart of the victim is a heart, beating on, subject to its laws, and, when it is pierced, driving out the blood from his opened side, as certainly as it before drove the living flood through the circulations of the body. But the thrust of the knife, which is from the assassin's will, makes a conjunction which nlature, by her laws alone, would never make, and by force of this the victim dies. In like manner, a poison administered acts by its own laws in the body of the victim, which body also acts according to its laws, and the result ensuing is death; which death is attributable, not to the scheme of nature, but to a false conjunction of substances that was brought to pass wickedly, by a human will. In all these cases, the results of pain, disorder, and death are properly said to be unnatural; being, in a sense, violations of nature. The scheme of nature included no such results. They are disorders and dislocations made by the misconjunction or abuse of causes in the scheme of nature. And the same will be true of all the events that follow, in the vast complications and chains of causes, to the end of the world. Whatever mischief, or unnatural result is thus brought to pass by sin, will be the first link of an endless chain of results not included in the scheme 168 NEW CONJUNCTIONS OF CAUSES. of nature, and so the beginning of an ever-widening circle of disturbance. And this is the true account of evil. But it will occur to some, that all human activities, the good as well as the bad, are producing new conjunctions of causes that otherwise would not exist. Mere nature will never set a wheel to the water-fall, or adjust the substances that compose a house or a steamboat. How then does it appear that the results of sin are called dislocations or disorders, or regarded as unnatural, with any greater propriety than the results of virtuous industry and all right action? Because, we answer, the scheme of nature is adjusted for uses, not for abuses; for improvement, culture, comfort, and advancing productiveness; not for destruction or corruption. Therefore, it consists with the scheme of nature that water-wheels, houses, and steam boats should be built; for all the substances and powers of nature are given to be harnessed for service, and when they are, it is no dislocation, but only a fulfilling of the natural order. We come, also, to the same result by another and dcliffer ent process; viz., by considering what sin is in its relation to God and his works. In its moral conception, it is an act against God, or the will and authority of God. And, since God is every where consistent with himself, setting all his creations in harmony with his principles, it is of course an act against the physical order, as truly as against the moral and spiritual. Taken as a dynamic, therefore, it wars with the scheme of nature, and fills it with the turmoil of its disorders and perversities. Or, if we take the concrete, speaking of the sinner himself, he is a sub stance, in a world of substances, acting as he was not made to act. He was not made to sin, and the world was not 15 169 170 SIN THIE ACTING OF A SUBSTANCE, MAN, made to help him sin. The mind of God being wholly against sin, the east of every world and substance is repugnant to sin. The transgressor, therefore, is a free power acting against God morally, and physically against the east of every world and substance of God-acting in, or among the worlds and substances, as he was not made to act. This, too, is the sentence of consciousness. The wrongdoer says within himself,-" I was not made to act thus, no laws of cause and effect, acting through me, did the deed. I did it myself, therefore am I guilty. Had I been made for the sin, it had been no sin, but only a fulfillment of the ends included in my substance." And how terribly is this verdict certified by the discovery that the world refuses to bless him, and that all he does upon it is a work of deformity, shame, and disorder. The very substances of the world answer, as it were, in groans, to the violatiors of his guilty practice. Suppose, then, what all natural philosophers ass, me, that nature, considered as a realm of cause ant effect, is a perfect system of order; what must take place in that system, when some one substance, no matter what, begins to act as it was not made to act? What can follow, but some general disturbance of the ideal harmony of the system itself? It will be as if some wheel or member in a watch, had been touched by a magnet and began to have an action, thus, not intended by the maker; every other wheel and member will be affected by the vice of the one. Or it will be as if some planet, or star, taking its own way, were to set itself on acting as it was not made to act; instantly the shock of disorder is felt by every other member of the system. Or we may draw an illustration, closer to probability, from the vital forms of physiology. A AS HIIE WAS NOT MADE TO ACT. vital creature is a kind of unit, or little universe, fashioned bythe life. Thus an egg is a complete vital system, having all its vessels, ducts, fluids, quantities, and qualities, arranged to meet the action of the embryonic germ. Suppose, now, in the process of incubation, that some small speck, or point of matter, under the shell, should begin, as the germ quickens, to act as it was not made to act, or against the internal harmony of the process going on, what must be the result? Either a disease, manifestly, that stops the process, or else a deformity; a chick without a wing, or with one too many, or in some way imperfectly organized. What then must follow, when a whole order of substances called men, having an immense power over the lines of causes in the world, not only begin, but for thou sands of years continue, and that on so large a scale that history itself is scarcely more than a record of the fact, to act as they were not made to act? We have only to raise this question, to see that the scheme of nature is marred, corrupted, dislocated by innumerable disturbances and disorders. Her laws all continue, but her conjunctions of Causes are unnatural. Immense transformations are wrought, which represent, on a large scale, the'repugnant, disorderly fact of sin. Indeed what we call nature must be rather a condition of unnature; apostolically represented, a whole creation groaning and travailing in pain together with man, in the disorder consequent on his sin. The conclusion at which we thus arrive is one that will be practically verified by inspection. Let us undertake then a brief survey of the great departments of human existence and the world, and discover, as far as we are able, the extent of the evil consequences wrought by sin. 171 CONSEQUENCES OF SIN, We begin with the soul or with souls. The soul, in its normal state, including the will or supernatural power, together with the involuntary powers subordinated to it by their laws, is an instrument tuned by the key-note of the conscience, viz. right, to sound harmoniously with it; or it is a fiuid, we may say, whose form, or law of crystallization is the conscience. And then it follows that, if the will breaks into revolt, the instrument is mistuned in every string, the fluid shaken becomes a shapeless, opaque mass, without unity or crystalline order. Or, if we resort to the analogies of vital phenomena, which are still closer, a revolted will is to the soul, or in it, what a foreign unreducible substance is in the vital and vascular system of the egg, or (to repeat an illustration,) what a grain of sand is in the eye-the soul has become a weeping organ, not an organ simply of sight. Given the fact of sin, the fact of a fatal breach in the normal state, or constitutional order of the soul, follows of necessity. And exactly this we shall see, if we look in upon its secret chambers and watch the motions of sins in the confused ferment they raise-the perceptions discolored, the judgments unable to hold their scales steadily because of the fierce gusts of passion, the thoughts huddling by in crowds of wild suggestion, the imagination haunted by ugly and disgustful shapes, the appetites contesting with reason, the senses victorious over faith, anger blowing the overheated fires of malice, low jealousies sulking in dark angles of the soul, and envies baser still, hiding under the skim of its green-mantled pools-all the powers that should be strung in harmony, loosened from each other, and brewing in hope less and helpless confusion; the conscience meantime thun dering wrathfully above and shooting down hot bolts of 172 IN SOULS. judgment, and the pallid fears hurrying wildly about with their brimstone torches-4hese are the motions of sins, the Tartarean landscape of the soul and its disorders, when self-government is gone and the constituent integrity is dissolved. We can not call it the natural state of man, nature disowns it. No one that looks in upon the ferment of its morbid, contesting, rasping, restive, uncontrollable action can imagine, for a moment, that he looks upon the sweet, primal order of life and nature. No name sufficiently describes it, unless we coin a name and call it a condition of unnature. Not that any law of the soul's nature is discontinued, or that any capacity which makes one a proper man is taken away by the bad inheritance, as appears to be the view of some theologians; every function of thought and feeling remains, every mental law continues to run; the disorder is that of functions abused and laws of operation provoked to a penal and retributive action, by the misdoings of an evil will. Though it is become, in this manner, a weepimg organ, as we just now intimated, still it is an organ of sight; only it sees through tears. And the profound reality of the disorder appears in the fact that the will by which it was wrought can not, unassisted, repair it. To do this, in fact, is much the same kind of impossibilitythe phrenologists will say precisely the same-as for a man who has disorganized his brain by over-exertion, or by steeping it in opium, or drenching it in alcohol, to take hold, by his will, of the millions of ducts and fibers woven together in the mysterious net-work of its substance, and bring them all back into the spontaneous order of health and spiritual integrity. N,;I it is one thing to break or shatter an organization, 1.5* 173 CONSEQUENCES OF SIN, and a very different to restore it. Almost any one canl break an egg, but not all the chemists in the world cait make one whole, or restore even so much as the slightest fracture of the shell. As little can a man will back, into order and tune, this fearfully vast and delicate complication of faculties; which indeed he can not even conceive, except in the crudest manner, by the study of a lile. It is important also, considering the moral reaction,i of the body, and especially the great fact of a propagatiolt of the species, to notice the disorgcanizing effect of sin, iut the body. Body and soul, as long as they subsist in their organized state, are a strict unity. The abuses of one aie abuses also of the other, the disturbances and diseases of one disturb and disease the other. The fortunes of the body must, in this way, follow the fortunes of the soul, whose organ it is. Sin has all its working too in the working of the brain. To think an evil thought, indulge a wicked purpose or passion, will, in this view, be much as if the sin had brought in a grain of sand and lodged it in the tissues of the brain. What then must be the effect, when every path in its curious net-work of intelligence is traveled, year by year, by the insulting myriads of sinning thought, hardened by the tramp of their feet, and dusted by their smoky trail. But we are speaking theoretically. If we turn to practical evidences, or matters of fact, we shall see plainly enough that what should follow, in the effects of sin upon the body, actually does follow. How the vices of the appetites and passions terminate in diseases and a final disorganization of the tody, is well understood. The false conjunction made by intemperate drink, deluging the tissues 174 IN THE BODY. of the body with its liquid poisons, and reducing the body to a loathsome wreck, is not peculiar to that vice. The condition of sin is a condition of general intemperance It takes away the power of self-government, loosens the passions, and makes even the natural appetite for food an instigator of excess. Indeed, how many of the sufferings and infirmities even of persons called virtuous, are known by all intelligent physicians to be only the groaning of the body under loads habitually imposed, by the untempered and really diseased voracity of their appetites. And if we could trace all the secret actions of causes, how faithfully would the fevers, the rheumatisms, the neuralgic and hypochondriacal torments, all the grim looking woes of dyspepsia, be seen to follow the unregulated license of this kind of sin. Nor is any thing better understood than that whatever vice of the mind-wounded pride, unregulated ambition, hatred, covetousness, fear, inordinate care -throws the mind out of rest, throws the body out of rest also. Thus it is that sin, in all its forms, becomes a power of bodily disturbance, shattering the nerves, inflaming the tissues, distempering the secretions, and brewing general ferment of disease. In one view, the body is a kind of perpetual crystallization, and the crystal of true health can not form itself under sin, because the body has, within, a perpetual agitating cause, which forbids the process. If then, looking round upon the great field of humanity, and noting the almost universal working of disease, in so many forms and varieties that they can not be named or counted, we sometimes exclaim with a sigh, what a hospital the world is! we must be dull spectators, if we stop at this, and do not also connect the remembrance that sin is in the world; a gangrene of the mind, poisoning a]. 11115 CONSEQUENCES OF SIN, the roots of health and making visible its woes, by so many woes of bodilydclisease and death. The particular question, whether bodily mortality has entered the world by sin, we will not discuss. That is principally a scripture question, and the word of scripture is not to be assumed in my argument. There obviously might have been a mode of translation to the second life, that should have none of the painful and revolting incidents which constitute the essential reality of death. We do moreover know that a very considerable share of the diseases and deaths of our race are the natural effects of sin or wrongdoing. There is great reason also to suspect, so devastating is the power of moral evil, that the infections and deadly plagues of the world are somehow generated by this cause. They seem to have their spring in some new virus of death, and this new virus must have been somewhere and somehow distilled, or generated. We can not refer them to mineral causes, or vegetable, or animal, which are nearly invariable, and they seem, as they begin their spread at some given locality, to have a humanly personal origin. That the virus of a poisonous and deadly contagion has been generated by human vices, we know, as a familiar fact of history; which makes it the more probable that other pestilential contagions have been generated in the deteriorated populations and sweltering vices of the East, whence our plagues are mostly derived. On this point we assert nothing as a truth positively discovered; we only design, by these references, to suggest the possible (and, to us, probable,) extent and power of that ferment, brewed by the instigations of sin, in the diseased populations of the world. What we suggest respecting, the virus of the world's plagues may be true, or 176 IN SOCIETY. it may not; this at least is shown beyond all question, that sin is a wide-spreading, dreadful "power of bodily distemper and disorganization, which is the point of principal consequence to our argument. Passing now to society and the disorganizing effects of sin there to appear, we see, at a glance, that if the soul and body are both distempered and reduced to a state of annature, the great interest of society must suffer in a correspondent manner and degree. Considered as a growth or propagation, humanity is, in some very important sense, an organic whole. If the races are not all descended of a single pair, but of several or even many pairs, as is now strenuously asserted by some, both on grounds of science and of scripture interpretation, still it makes no difference as regards the matter of their practical and properly religious unity. The genus humanity is still a single genus comprehending the races, and we know from geology that they had a begun existence. That they also sinned, at the beginning, is as clear, from the considerations already advaimed, as if they had been one. WVhence it follows that descendants of the sinning pair, or pairs, born of natures thrown out of harmony and corrupted by sin, could not, on principles of physiology, apart from scripture teachings, be unaffected by the distempers of their parentage. They must be constituently injured, or depravated. It is not even supposable that organic natures, injured and disordered, as we have seen that human bodies are by sin, should propagate their life in a progeny unmarred and perfect. If we speak of sin as action, their children may be innocent, and so far may reveal the loveliness of innocence;still the crystalline order is broken; the passions, tempers, 177 CONSEQUENCES OF SIN, appetites, are not in the proportions of harmony and reason; the balance of original health is gone by anticipation; and a distempered action is begun, whose affinities sort with evil rather than with good. It is as if, by their own sin, they had just so far distempered their organization. Thus far the fruit of sin is in them. And this the scriptunes, in a certain popular, comprehensive way, sometimes call "sin;" because it is a condition of depravation that may well enough be taken as the root of a guilty, sinning life. They do not undertake to settle metaphysically the point where personal guilt commences, but only suit their convenience in a comprehensive term that designates the race as sinners; passing by those speculative questions that only divert attention from the salvation provided for a world of sinners. The doctrine of physiology therefore is the doctrine of original sin, and we are held to inevitable orthodoxy by it, even if the scriptures are cast away. But if the laws of propagation contain the fact, in this manner, of an organic depravation of humanity or human society, under sin once broken loose, many will apprehend in such a fact, some ground of impeachment against God; as if he had set us on our trial, under terms of the sorest disadvantage. If we start, they ask, under conditions of hereditary damage, with natures depravated and affinities already distempered by the sin of progenitors, as truly as if we had oommenced the bad life ourselves, what is our bad life when we begin it, but the natural issue of our hopeless, misbegotten constitution? It is no sufficient answer to say that no blame attaches to the mere depravation supposed, whether it be called sin or by any other name; it shocks themn to hear it even suggested, that a good being like 178 IN SOCIETY. God can have set us fortl in our trial, under such immense disadvanitages. Probably enoughL they assail the doc trine of ilnheritedl depravity, in terms of fiery denuncia tiol, whether talen as a dongma set up by theologians, or as beinog affircmed bv christian revelation itself; not ob serving thlat it is the inevitable fact also of human histo ry; and, admittiag the fact of sin, a necessary deduction even of physiological science. Nowv so far fi'oln admnitting the supposed disadvantage incurred bv this organic depravation of tlre race, or the mode of existence to which it pertains as a natural inci dent, we are led to an opinion exactly opposite. Indeed there appears to) be no other way possible, in which the race could have been set forth on their trial, with as good chances of a successful and happy issue. Thus, taling' it for granted, that God is to create a moral population, or a population of free intelligences, that, having a begun existence, are to be educated into, and finally established in, good, there were obviously two methods possible. They might always be created outright in fill volume, liike so many Adams, only to exist indepencdently anld apart from all reproductive arrangemenlts, or they might be introduced, as we are, in the frail and barely initiated existence of the infantile state, each generationI b)rn of the preceding, and( altogether composing a rig,idly constituent organic unity of races. In the former case they would have the advantage of a perfectly uncorrupted nature, and, if that be any advantao'e of a full mlaturity in what may be called the raw staple of their functions. But inch advantages ainounlt to scarcely more tlImun the opportunity of a greater and more tremendous peril; for, being, all, by supposition, under 17 CONSEQUENCES OF SIN, the same conditions privative with the first man of scripture,* they would as certainly do the same things, descending to the same bad experiment, to be involved in the same consequent fall and disorder. They would only be more strictly original in their depravation, having it as the fruit of their own guilty choices. And then, as regards all mitigating and restoring influences, the comparative disadvantage would be immense. Self-centered now, every man in his sin, and having no ligatures of race and family and family affection to bind them together, the selfishness of their fall would be unqualified, softened by no mitigations. Spiritual love they can not understand, because they never have felt the natural love of sex, family, and kindred, by which, under conditions of propagation, a kind of inevitable, first-stage virtue is instituted; such as mitigates the severities of sin, softens the sentiments to a social, tender play, and offers to the mind a type, every where present, of the beauty and true joy of a disinterested, spiritual benevolence. They compose, instead, a burly prison-gang of probationers, linked together by no ties of consanguinity, reflecting no traces of family likeness, bent to each other's and God's love by no dear memories. Society there is none. Law is impossible. Society and law suppose conditions of organic unity already prepared. Every man for himself, is the grand maxim of life; for all are atoms together, in the medley of the common selfishness; only the old atoms have an immense advantage over the young ones fresh arrived; for these new comers of probation, come of course to the prey, having no guardians or protectors, and no tender sentiments of care and kindred prepared to shelter *Chapter IV., p. 111. 180 IN SOCIETY. themn and smooth their way. Besides, the world into which they come must have been already fouled and disordered by the sin of the prior populations, and must therefore be a frame of being, wholly inappropriate to their new-created innocence; or else, if not thus disordered, must have been a casement of iron, too rigid and impassive to receive any injury from sin, and therefore incapable of any retributive discipline returned upon it. There is, in short, no condition of trial which, after all, is seen to be so utterly forbidding and hopeless as just this state of Adamic innocence, independence, and maturity of faculty, which many are so ready to require of God, as the only method of promise and fair advantage, in the beginning of a responsible life. Hlow different the condition realized where men are propagated as a race or races. Then are they linked together by a necessary, constituent, anticipative love. i'oved by this love, the progenitors are immediately set to a work of care and benefaction, beautifully opposite to the proper selfishness of their sin. The delicate and tender oeig received to their embrace, circulates their blood, will bear their name, and is looked upon, even by theil selfishness, as a multiplied and dearer self. They are even made to feel, in a lower and more rudimental way, what joy there is in a disinterested love; and they pour out their fondness, in ways that even try their invention, instigated by the compulsory bliss of sacrifice. They want the best things too for their child, even his virtue; and probably enough his religious virtue; for they dread the bitter woes of wrong-doing.,This is true, at least, of all but such as have fallen below nature in their vices, and ceased to hear her voice. They even undertake to be a 181 1 6 CONSEQUENCES OF SIN, providence, and do for their child all which the love of God, even till now rejected, has been seeking to do for themselves; commanding him away from wrong,, and warning him faithfully of its dangers. Besides it is a great point, in the scheme of propagated life, that the child learns how to be grown, so to speak, into, and exist in, another will; whichl is an immense advantage to the religious nurture, even where the parental character is not good. tie is not like a population of untutored, unregulated Adams, who have just come to the finding of a man's will in them, and do not know how to use it, least of all how to sink it obediently in the sovereign will and authority of God. The child's will grew in authority, and he comes out gently, in the reverence of a subordinated habit, to choose the way of obedience, having his religious conscience configured and trained, by a kind of family conscience, previously developed. There is almost no family therefore-none except the very worst and most depraved-in which the rule of the house is not a great spiritual benefit, and a means even of religious virtue. hlow much more, where the odor of a heavenly piety fills the house and sanctifies the atmosphere of life itself. Instead of being set forth as an overgrown man, issued firom the Creator's hand to make the tremendous choice, undirected by experience, he is gently inducted, as it were, by choices of parents before his own, into the habit and accepted practice of all holy obedience; growing up in the nurture of their grace, as truly as of their natural affection. Furthermore, as corruption or depravation is propagated, under well-known laws of pEysiology, what are we to think but that a regenerate life may be also propagated; and that so the scripture truth of a sanctification e 182 IN SOCIETY. from the womb may sometime cease to be a thing remarkable and become a commonly expected fact? And then, if a point should finally be reached, under the sublime I)ali?yetineesia of redemption, when christian faith, together wsith its fruits of nurture and sanctified propagation, should be nearly or quite universal, and the world, which is now in its infancy, should roll on, millions of ages after, training its immense populations for the skies, how magnificently preponderant the advantages of the plan of propagation, which at first we thought could be only a plan to set us out in the wrong, and sacrifice our virtue by anticipation. This comparison, which might otherwise seem to be a digression, will effectually remove those false impressions so generally prevalent concerning God's equity in the fact of natural corruption; and if this be done, a chief imped(imient to all right conceptions of the human state, as affected by sin, will be removed. In this manner, wholly apart fiom the scriptures, instructed only by the laws of physiology, we discover the certain truth of an organic fall or social lapse in the race; we find humanity broken, disordered, plunged into unnature by sin; but dark and fearful as the state may be, there is nothing in it unhopeful, nothing to accuse. AVe are only where we should be, each by his own act, if we were created independently; with immenlse adva.ntages added to mitigate the hopelessness of our disorder. It is very true that, under these physiological terms of propagation, society falls or goes down as a unit, and evil becomes, in a sense, organic in the earth. The bad inheritance passes, and fears, frauds, crimes against property, character and life, abuses of power, oppressions of the w eak, persecutions of the good, piracies, wars of revolt, an(( 183 CONSEQUENCES OF SIN, wars of conquest, are the staple of the world's bitter history. All that Mr. Fourier has said of society, in its practical operation, is true; it is a pitiless and dreadful power, as fallen society should be. And yet it is a condition of existence far less dreadful than it would be, if the orga.ic Lo)rce of natural affinities and affections were not operative still, in the desolations of evil, to produce institutions, con — struct nations,* and establish a condition of qualified unity and protection. Otherwise, or existing only as separate units, in no terms of consanguinity, we should, probably, fall into a state of utter non-organlization, or, what is the same, of universal prey. The grand woe of society, therefore, is not, as this new prophet of science teaches, the bad organization of society; but that good organization, originally beautiful and beneficent, can only mitigate, but can not shut away, the evils by which it is infested. The line of propagation is, in one view, the line of transmission by which evil passes; but it is, at the same time, a sure spring of solidarity and organific power, by which all the principal checks and mitigations of evil, save those which are brought in with the grace of supernatural redemption, are supplied. Otherwise the state of evil, untransmitted and purely original in all, would make a hell of anarchy, unendurable and final. Nothing, in this view, could be more superficial than Mr. Fourier's conception of the woes of society. Ignoring, at the outset, the existence of sin, and assuming that every man comes from the hand of his Maker in a state that represents the Maker's integrity, even as the stars do, he lays it down as a fundamental maxim of science, that all * The word itself represents uron i. face the common life of a commonl root, or parentage. 184 IN SOCIETY. the passions and appetites of the race are like gravity itself, instincts that reach after order-in his own rather pretentious anl extra scientific language, that "attractions are proportioned to destinies." The attractions of the worlds of matter adjust their positions; so the perfect order of the heavens. So the attractions of men, to wit, their lusts, appetites, passions, will adjust the perfect order of society. Why, then, do they not? Because of social mal-organization. And, with so many impulses or passions gravitating all toeward order, whence came the mai-organization?-why are not the heavens, too, nalorganized, and with as good right? But I refer to these insane theories of social science, not for any purpose of argument against them, but simply to get light and shade for my subject. The woe of society is deeper and more difficult; not to be mended by artificial reconstructions apart from all ties of consanguinity, not by contracts of good will and mutual service, not by bonds of interest and licenses of passion. It lies, first of all, in the fall of man himself, which includes the fall of passion; a fall which is mitigated even compulsorily by the organific power of consanguinity, but can, by no human wisdom, or skill, or combination, be restored. Organization will do what it can, it will be more or less bad as it is more or less perverted by injustice, or misdirected and baffled by the instigations of selfishness and the bad affinities and demionized passions of sin. It now remains to carry our inquest one step farther. If sin has power, taken as-a dynamic, to affect the soul, the body, and society, in the manner already indicated, reducing all these departments of nature to a state un 16* 185 CONSEQUENCES OF SIN, natural, it should not be incredible that it may also have power to produce a like disorder in the material or physi cal world. The immense power of the huminan will over the physical substances of the world and the conjunctions of its causes, is seldom adequately conceived. Almost every thing, up to the moon, is capable of being somehowv varied or affected by it. Being a force supernatural, it is continually playing itself into the chemnistries and external combinations of matter, converting shapes, reducing or increasing quantities, transferring positions, framing and dismembering conjunctions, turning poisonlS into medicines, and reducing fruits to poisons, till at length scarcely any thing is left in its properly natural state. Some of these changes, which it is the toil of human life to produce, are beneficent; and a multitude of others represent, alas! too faithfully, the prime distinction of sin; the acting of a power against God, or as it was not made to act. Could we only bring together into a complete inventory all the new structures, compositions, inventions, shapes, qualities, already produced by man, which are, in fact, the furniture only of his sin-means of self-indulg,ence, instruments of violence, shows of pride, instigations of appetite, incitements and institutes of corrupt pleasure-all the leprosies and leper-houses of vice, the prisons of oppression, the hospitals and battle fields of war, we should see a face put on the world which God never gave it, and which only represents the bad conversion it has suffered, under the immense and ever-industrious perversities of sin. But we must carry our search to a point that is deeper and more significant. In what is called nature, we find I large admixture of signs or objects, which certainly do 186 IN THE NATURAL WVORLD. not belong to an ideal state of beauty, and do not, therefore. represent the mind of God,'whence they are supposed to come. The fact is patent every where, and yet the superficial and hasty multitudes appear to take it for granted, that all the creations of God are beautiful of course. They either assume it as a necessary point of' reverence, or deduce it as a point of reason, that whatever comes from God represents the thought of God; being cast in the mold of his thought, which is divine beauty itself. Not only do the poets and poetasters in prose go the round of nature, sentimentalizing among her dews and flowers, and paying their worship at her shrine, as if the world were a gospel even of beauty; but our philosophers often teach it as a first principle, and our natural theologians assume it also in their arguments, that the forms of things must represent the perfect forms of the Divine thought, by which they were fashioned. It would seem that such a conceit might be dissipated by a single glance of revision; for God is the infinite beauty, and who can imagine, looking on this or that half dry and prosy scene o( nature, that it represents the infinite beauty? The fact of creation argues no such thing. For what if it should happen to have been a part of God's design in the work to represent, not himself only as the pure and Perfect One, the immutable throne of law and universal order, but quite as truly, and in immediate proximity, to represent man to himself; that he may see both what he is for, and what he is, and struggle up out of one into the other. Then, or in that view, it would be the perfection of the world, taken in its moral adaptations, that it is not perfect, and does not answer to the beauty of the creative mind, save under the large qualification specified. 187 CONSEQUENCES OF SIN, And exactly this appears to be the true conception of the physical world. What does it mean, for example, that the vital organizations are continually seen to be attempting products which they can not finish? Thus a fruit tree covers itself with an immense profusion of blossoms, that drop, and do not set in fruit. And then, of those fruits which are set, an immense number fall, strewing the ground with deaths-tokens all of an abortive attempt in nature, if we call it nature, to execute more than she can finish. And this we see in all the growths of the world-they lay out more than they can perform. Is this the ideal perfection of nature, or is there some touch of unnature and disorder in it? Is God, the Creator, represented in this? Does he put himself before us in this manner, as a being who attempts more fruits than he can pioduce? or is there a hint in it, for man, of what may come to pass in himself? an image under which he may conceive himself and fitly represent himself in language? a token, also, and proof of that most real abortion, to which he may bring even his immortal nature, despite of all the saving mercies of God? Swedenborg and his followers have a way of representing, I believe, that God creates the world through man, by which they understand that what we call the creation, is a purely gerundive matter-God's perpetual act-and that he holds the work to 9)2an, at every stage, so as to represent him always at his present point, and act upon him fitly to his present taste. Not far off is Jonathan Edward's conception of God's upholding of the universeit is in fact a perpetual reproduction; the creation, so called, being to His person, what the image in a mirror is to the person before it, from whom it proceeds and bv whom it 188 IN THE NATURAL WORLD. is sustained. Indeed this latter conception runs into the other, and becomes identical with it, as soon as we take in the fact, that God is always being and becoming to man, both in counsel and feeling, what is most exactly fit to man's character and want; for, in that view, God's image, otherwise called his creation, will be all the while receiving a color from man, and will so far be configured to him. Accordingly, we look, in either view, to see the Kosmos or outward frame of things held to man, linked to his fortunes to rise and fall with him, and so, under certain limitations, to give himn back his doings and represent him to himself-representing God, in facet, the more adequately that it does. The doctrine of types in the physical world, to represent conditions of character and changes of fortune in the spiritual, is only another conception of the same general truth. And this doctrine of types we know to be true in part; for language itself is possible only in virtue of the fact that physical types are provided, as bases of words, having each a natural fitness to represent some spiritual truth of human life; which is in fact the principal use and significance of language. Whence also it follows that if human life is disordered, perverted, reduced to a condition of unnature by sin, there must also be provided, as the necessary condition of language, types that represent so great a change; which is equivalent to saying that the fortunes of the outer world must, to soicie very great extent, follow the fortunes of the occupant and groan with him in his disorders. Or we are brought to a conclusion essentially the same, by considering the complete and perfect unity of natural causes; how theyform a dynamic. whole, resting in an e\ 189 CONSEQUENCES OF SIN, act balance of iautual relationship, so that if any world, or particle, starts from its orbit, or position, every other world and particle feels the change. What then must followV when the given force or substance man, begins and for long ages continues to act as he was not made to act; out of character, against God, refilsing place, and breaking out on every side from the general scheme of unity and harmony, in which the creation was to be comprehended? What can his human disorder be, but a propagating cause of disorder? what his deformity within, but a soul of deformity without, in the surroundings of the field he occupies? And this again is but another version of the fact that the final causes of things are moral; the arrangement being that natural causes shall react upon all wrong-doing, in retributive diseases, discords, and pains, to correct and chasten the wrong; which, indeed, is the same thing as to say that the world was made to share the fortunes of man, and fall with him inl his fall. Whichever of these views we take, for at bottom they all coalesce in the same conclusion, we see, at a glance, that, given the fact of sin, what we call nature can be no mere embodiment of God's beauty and the eternal order of His mind, but must be, to some wide extent, a realm of deformity and abortion; groaning with the discords of sin and keeping company with it in the guilty pains of its apostasy. Even as the apostle says, meaning doubtless all which his words most naturally signify-"For the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together.', WAVe need not therefore scruple to allow and also to maintain the j udgment, that many things we meet are not beautiful; we should rather look for many that are not. Thus 190 IN THE NATURAL WORLP we have growths in the briars and thorns that do not represent the beauty and benignity of God; but under his appointment take on their spiny ferocity from man, whose surroundings they are, and whose fortunes they are made to participate. The same may be said of loathsome and disgusting animals. Or we may take the pismire race for an example-a race of military vermin, who fight pitched battles and sometimes make slaves of their captives; representing nothing surely in God, save his purpose to reflect, in keenest mockery, the warlike chivalry and glory oLf man. It was our fortune once to see a battle of these insect heroes. On a square rod of ground it raged for two whole days, a braver field than Mlarathonl, or Waterloo, covered with the dead and dying, and with fierce enemies rolled in the dust, still fighting on in a deadly grapple of halves, after the slender connection of their middle part had been completely severed in the encounter. That these creatures image God in their fight, can not be supposed, save as God may reveal, by a figure so powerftul, the sense he has of what we call our glory, the bloody glory of,our sin. Under the same principle that the world is linked to man and required to represent him to himself, we are probably to account for the many and wide-spread tokens of deformity round us in the visible objects of nature. AVWhoever may once set his thought to this kind of inquiry, will be amazed by the constant recurrence of deformities, or things which lack the beauties of form. After all the fine sentimentalities, lavished by rote and without discriminating thought on the works and processes of nature, he will be surprised to find that the world is not as truly a realm of beauty, as of beauty flecked by 191 CONSEQUENCES OF SIN, injury. The growths are carbuncled and diseased, and the children have it for a play to fetch a perfect leaf. Fogs and storms blur the glory of the skly, and foul days, rightly so called, interspace the bright and fair. The earth itself displays vast deserts swept by the horrid simoom; muddy rivers, with their fenny shores, tenanted by hideous alligators; swamps and morasses, spreading out in provinces of quagmire, and reeking in the steam of death. In the kIingdom of life, disgusting and loathsome objects appear, too numerous to be recounted; such as wormns and the myriads of base vermin, deformed animals, dwarfs, idiots, leprosies, and the rot of cities swept by the plague; history itself depicting the mushrooms sprouting in the bodies of the unburied dead, and the jackals howling in the chambers, at their dreadful repast. Even more significant still is the fact, because it is a fact that concerns the honor even of our personal organism, that no living man or woman is ever found to be a faultless model of beauty and proportion. WVhen the sculptor will fashion a perfect form, he is obliged to glean for it, picking out the several parts of beauty from a hundred mal-propor. tioned, blemished bodies in actual life. And what is yet more striking, full three-fourths of the living races of men are so ugly, or so far divested of beauty in their mold, that no sculptor would ever think of drawing on them for a single feature! This word cbformily, which is properly a word of sight, may be used too in its largest and most inclusive import, to cover all the ground of the senses, tog,ethler with a whole family of words in de or dis, that indicate a relation of dclisjunction-the dis-gusts of the taste and the smell; the diseasement, or pain of the sensibility; the dis-cords and the 192 IN THE NATURAL WORLD. unmnelodious notes, that storm the offended ear of m a sic the manifold brays ag, cawing, screeching, yelling s(ounds, such as would be l( w in a farce, but are issued still from as many badly-voiced pipes in the great organ of nature. And then besides we have dis-tempers, disproportions, dis tortions, dis-orders, de-rangements, answering all, shall we say, to the dislocation of our inward harmony, and, reveal ing in that manner the desolating effects of our sin. If it should be urged that all these deformities and dis cords are necessary contrasts, to enliven the beauty and highten the music of nature, it is enough to answer that pain is as necessary to joy, eternal pain to eternal joy; or better still, because the analogy is closer and more exact, that moral deformity is just as necessary in God to the sufficient impression of His moral beauty. Though, if we take them all together in their moral import and usesthe abortions, the deformed growths and landscapes, and the strange jargon of sounds-regarding them as prepared by the Almighty Father, fitly to insphere a creature supernatural whom he is correcting in his sins and training unto Himself, then do they rise into real dignity and reveal a truly divine magnificence. This, we say, is indeed the tremendous beauty of God; and the strange, wild jargon of the world, shattered thus by sin, becomes to us a mysterious, transcendent hymn. Still it is deformity, jargon, death, and thle only winning side of it is, that it answer to the woe, and meets the want of our sin. 17 193 CHAPTER VII. ANTICIPATIVE CONSEQUENCES. L; the account offered of the consequences of sin, we have spoken of these consequences as effects transpiring under laws, and so as matters post in respect to the fact of sin. The result stated coincides, in all but the positive or inflictive form, with the original curse denounced on man's apostasy, as represented in the Adamic history or sinmyth, as some would call it, of the ancient scriptures. That primal curse, it is conceived, penetrates the very ground as a doom of sterility, covers it with thorns and thistles and all manner of weeds to be subdued by labor, makes it weariness to live, brings in death with its armies of pains and terrors to hunt us out of life, and so unparadiscs the world. Call it then a myth, disallow the notion of a positive infliction as being unphliilosophical; still the matter of the change, or general world-lapse asserted in it, is one of the grandest, most massive, best-attested truths included in human knowledge. It is just that which ought to be true, under the conditions, and which we have found, by inspection also, to be true as a matter of fact. Still there is a difficulty, or a great and hitherto insufficiently explored question, that remains. It is the question of date or time; for when we speak, as in the previous chapter, of the consequences of sin, we seem to imply that, upon, or after the fact of sin, the physical order of the world, affected bty the shock, underwent a great change that amounted to a fall; becoming, from that point onward, a realn of deformity and discord, as before it was TWO KINDS OF CONSEQUENCES. not, and displla-ying, in all its sceneries and combinations, the tokens (of a broken constitution. All which, it will readily occur to any one, can not, in that form, be true. For the sturdy facts of science rise up to confront us in such represellt.,tions, testifying that death, and prey, and deformed objects, and hideous monsters, were in the world long before the arrival of man. Nay, the rocks open their tombs and slo)W us that older curses thanl the curse, older consequences anite-dating, sin, had already set their marks on the world aid had even made it, more than once, an Aceldana of tle living races. "I need scirce say," remarks Hugh Miller, "that the paleontologist finds no trace in nature of that golden age of the worl(l, (of which the poets delighted to sing, when all creatures li ved( together in unbroken peace, and war and bloodshed were unknown. Ever since animal life began upon our planet, there have existed, in all the departments of being, cariivorous classes, who could not live but by the death of tli(,ir neighbors; and who were armed, in consequence, for their destruction, like the butcher with his Strife and the arglerwith his hook and spear."* Thisbeing true, the paradisaic history, as commonly understood, is still farther off fronm a possible verification, unless we suppose the curse to be there reported as a facet subsequent, though latently incorporate before, because it is there discovered, and plainly could not be conceived, at that time, as the facts of future science miay require. For the true solution of this apparent collision between geologic revelations and the paradclisaic history, lies in the fact which many have not considered, that there are two modes of consequence, or two kinds of consequences; those * Testimdny of the Rocks, p. 99. 195 WHAT EVIL CONSEQUENCES whichli come as effects under physical causes, andl have their time as events subsequent; and those which come anticipatively, or before the facts whose consequences they are, because of intellectual conditions, or because intelligence, affected by such facts, apprehended before the time, could not act as being ignorant of them. These two modes of consequence, and particularly the latter, now demand our attention. As regards the former-the consequences of suffering and dislocation that follow sin, as effects in time subsequent-there is happily not much requiring to be said; for the truth on that subject is familiar, and is in fact overmuch insisted on by the modern teachers. Only it happens that, while they so frequently make a gospel of the mere retributive principle thus arrayed against evil, they do also contrive to narrow the bad consequences of sin to a range so restricted, and to results of mischief so nearly trivial, that really nothing is involved in disobedience, except in cases of extreme viciousness and moral abandonment. They do not conceive such a thing as the real dissolution of the primal order and harmony even of the soul, and the ceasing to be any longer a complete integer, when it drops its moral integrity. What I have so abundantly shown in the previous chapter, they do not allow themselves to see-that any beginning, or outbreak of sin carries with it the inevitable fact of a shock to the general state of order; starting trains of penal and retributive consequences, which have no assignable limit, and which none but a-supernatural and divine agency can reverse. Any thing entering into God's world, or falling out in it, that is against his will, breaks of course the 196 ARE SUBSEQUENT IN TIME. crystalline order, and how far the fracture will go no one can tell. When, therefore, we meet any given token of lapse, or disorder, it may not be clear to us, on mere inspection, how it came in, whether among the subsequent or the anticipative consequences of sin. Thorns and thistles-did they take on their spiny and savage armor before the sin of man, or after? Possibly after. No man can tell beforehand how far such a beginning of disobedience and apostasy from Godl might penetrate the fabric, and poison the substance, and so determine the form of growths in the world; for, in a scheme of perfect reason, any violation of wrong travels fast and far, and no one can guess how far. But if the geologist, opening the hidden registers of the world finds, the portrait, or even the indisputable analogon of a thistle in the stone, that is the end of the inquiry. The substance then of what I would desire to say on this particular point is that, without some conviction of evil and pain following after sin as its necessary effect, there could be no such thing as a practically real moral government in the world. That such evil and pain do follow, with inevitable certainty, even as all effects follow after their causes, we perceive and almost universally admit; for they are distinguishable in all the four great departments of being-the body, the soul, society, and the world. And since it is theoretically true that, in any perfect system of being, the disturbance of a particle disturbs the whole, we are to admit, without difficulty, and as it were by intellectual requirement, that evils most remote, de('pest, widest, and most comprehensive, may be effects, or inevitable sequents of human transgression. On this point our faith should properly be shocked by nothing; for it is 17* 197 198 PRE-EXISTING EVILS, HOW FAR a fact visible beforehand, all timie apart, that sin list be a grand, all-penetrating sacrament of woe to the world that contains it. And we shall most naturally take all the evils we meet to be the dynamical effects of sin, till we find them penetrating also the pre-Adamite conditions of being, and setting their type in the registers of the geologoic ages. WVe come now to the matter of the anticipative consequences; where it will be required of us to speak more carefully and to dwell longer. And here the first thing to be noted, as respects the consequences of Sill in our particular world, is that the subsequent effects of the sin of other beings might very well bring in disorders here that anticipate the arrival of man. There had been other moral beings in existence doubtless before the creation of man. So, in fact, the scriptures themselves testify. They also testify that some such were evil and, as we are left to judge, fixed in a reprobate character, by long courses of evil. As they are shown to have had access to our world, after we came in as a race to possess it, so doubtless they had been visitors and travelers in it, if we may so speak, during all the long geologic eras that preceded our coming-hovering it may be in the smoke and steam, or watching for congenial sounds and sights among the crashing masses and grinding layers, even before the huge monsters began to wallow in the ooze of the waters, or the giant birds to stalk along the hardening shores. What they did, in this or that geologic layer of the world, we of course know not. As little do we know in what numbers they appeared, or by wlh t deeds of violence and wrong they disfigured the REFERRIBLE TO OLDER POPULATIONS. 199 existing, order. We do not even know that the successive extinctions of so many animal races, and the deformities found in so many of the now existing races, were not somehow referrible to the audacity of their w rongs and the bitter woe of their iniquities. As already intimated,* the fencing of spirits may be an essentially moral affair-such that having, by their very nature, the freedom originally of the physical universe, the universe might well be visited by all such myrmidons of evil and, being so visited, might show, as a necessary consequence, the tokenls of their evil contact or inhabitation. Indeed it might well enough show such tokens of their sin in worlds they had never visited; for the universe, as we have seen, is a whole, and a shock to any part of that whole must have its effects of some kind, in every other. iHow far the solidarity of the universe and its fortunes extends, or how many things it embraces, we certainly do not know, and are therefore not qualified to assume that "the whole creation" does not necessarily feel the touch of every bad mind and act, and suffer some consequent disorder ii every part. Finding then tokens of deformity and prey, and objects of disgust appearing in the world, long ages before it was inhabited by man, we are not hastily to infer that these are not actual consequences of sin. They may be such, in the strictest terms of retributive causality, though not as related to the sins of man. Preceding that, by long ages of time, they may yet be subsequent and penal effects, as related to older, vaster, outlying populations of sinners that had visited, or sent the shock of their sin into the world, before the human race appeared. It is not proposed, however, to account for all the pre * C hapter IV., pp. 123-128. CONSEQUENCES PREVIOUS, vioasly existing marks of evil in the world, in this manner. It is most agreeable not to do it. For we shall easily con vince ourselves that vast realms of consequences, and these as real as any, precede and, in rational order, ought to precede, their grounds, or occasions. Indeed it is the peculiar distinction of consequences mediated by intelligence, that they generally go before,'and prepare the coming of events to which they relate. Whoever plants a state erects a prison, or makes the prison to be a necessary part of his plan; which prison, though it be erected before any case of felony occurs, is just as truly a consequence of the felonies to be, as if it were erected afterward, or were a natural result of such felonies. All the mnachinery of discipline in a school, or an army, is prepared by intelligence, perceiving beforehand the certain want of discipline hereafter to appear, and is just as truly a consequence of the want, as if it were created by the want itself, without any mediation of intelligence. So also any commander, who is managing a campaign, and has gotten hold of the intended plan of his enemy, will be utterly unable to project a plan for himself, or even to order the maneuvers of a day, so as not to show a looking at the secret he has gained, and also to prepare innumerable things, that are, in some sense, consequences of it. What then shall we look for, since God's whole plan of government is, in some highest view, a campaign against sin, and is from the beginning projected as such, but that all the turnings of his counsels and shapings of his creations, should have some discoverable reference to it? And how, in that case, could they be more truly and rigidly consequences of it? Indeed all consequences post, are, in fact, anticipative first, and are, as really existent, it 200 MEDIATED BY INTELLIGENCE. tne laws ordained by intelligence to bring them to pass, as they are in their actual occurrence in time, afterward. It is by no fiction therefore, and as little by any fetch of ingenuity, that we speak of anticipative consequences; for they are the unfailing distinction of every plan ordered by intelligence; every system or scheme, comprehended in the molds of reason, will disclose, in the remotest and most subtle beginnings, marks that relate to events future, and even to issues most remote. This too, so far from being any subject of wonder, is even a kind of necessary incident of intelligence. For every thing that comes into the view of intelligence, must also pass into the plans of intelligence. Ilow can any intelligent being frame a plan, so as to make no account of what is really in his knowledge? Or how could the allknowing God arrange a scheme of providential order, just as if he did not know the conling fact of sin, eternally present to his knowledge? Mind works under conditions of unity, and, above all, Perfect Mind. WVhat God has eternally in view, therefore, as the certain fact of sin, that tfact about which all highest counsel in his government must revolve, and upon the due management of which all most eventful and beneficent issues in his kingdom depend, must pervade his most ancient beginnings and crop oul in all the layers and eras of his process, from the first, chapter of creative movement, onward. As certainly as sin is to be encountered in his plan, its marks and consequences will be appearing anticipatively, and all the grand arrangements and cycles of time will be somehow preluding its approach, and the dirq encounter to be maintained with it. To create and govern a world, through long eras ! time, and great physical revulsions, yet never discover 201 PREMEDITATION OF GOD, to our view any token that he apprehends the grand cataclysm of sin that is approaching, till after the faict is come, he must be much less than a wise, all-perceiving Mind. Much room would be left for the doubt, whether he is any mipd at all; for it is the way of mind to weave all counsel and order into a web of visible unity. It accords also with this general view of the subject, as related to mind, that our most qualified teachers in science discover so many tokens of premeditation, or anticipative thought, in the earlier types and creations of the world. "Premeditation prior to creation'"*-this is the grand, intellectual facet which Mr. Agassiz verifies with a confidence so calmly scientific, in his late introduction to the study of Natural History. All sciences, he shows, are in things because the creator's premeditative thought is there; every first thing accordingly shows somne premeditative token of every last. "Enough has been already said," he remarkls, "to show that the leading thought which runs through the successions of all organized beings, in past ages, is manifested again ill new combinations, in the phases of the development of living representatives of these different types. It exhibits every where the workingff of the same creative Mind, through all time, and upon the whole surface of the globe."t IHe passes directly on, accordingly, in his next section, to speak of the "Prophetic Types among Animals," discovering,, in the earlier types of animated being, what reads i like a prophecy" of all the types to come after. "There are entire fatmilies," he says, "among the representatives of older )periods, of nearly every class of animals, which, in the state of their perfect development, exemplify such *Essay on Classification, p. 9. f lb., p. 116 202 DISCOVERED IN THE FACTS OF SCIENCE; 203 prophetic relations, and afford, within the limits of the animal kingdom, at least, the most unexpected evidence that the plan of the whole creation had been maturely considered, long before it was executed." * All this, it will be observed, by the mere dry light of reason and of posi tive science, apart from any consideration of a service to be rendered to revealed religion. Prof. Dana, in like manner, though with a somewhat dif ferent purpose, observes, in "the survey of geological facts, a remarkable oneness of system, binding together, in a single plan or scheme, the successive events or creations, from the earliest coral or shell-fish to man." t The whole geologic series or progress constitutes, in this manner, he maintains, "One grand history, with the creation of man, the last act in the drama of creation." The point of conviction reached by these great masters of science, and stated thus in terms of the truest intellectual insight, is still not the end of all reason as pertaining to the subject in question. If we speak of "prophetic types" futlfilled( or perfected by future creations, there will, in tie same manner, be types also that have their fulfillmenit after all creations are ended; in the spiritual state of men, and the remotest issues and last ends of human existenlce. And as all that God ordains or previously creates, will have some respect to these last ends, and the conditions of trial and bad experience through which they are to be reached, it is even probable that, if we had a perfect insight of any humblest thing, be it only a mollusc, or an insect, we should find some subtle type or reference in it, to the grandest and most radical facts of the spiritual history of the universe. For the premeditation of God andt * Essay on Classification D 117: t New Englander, Vol. XVI., p. 96. WHICH PREMEDITATION the intellectual unity of his thought comprehend more than any mere matter of species, or frame of geological order; viz., that for which all species and all facts of science and all objects of scientific study exist. So also, if we speak with Prof. Dana of a "remarkable or.eness of system," geology is, in real fact, no system of God, except as we say it by accommodation, which doubtless he would also admit; for there is but one system and can be only one, as there is but one systematizing mind, and one last end, about which the inferior combinations, sometimes called systems, revolve. When, therefore, it is remarked that God's one system visibly comprehends all the creation, from coral and shell-fish up to man, why not also, we ask, to something farther?-to what man will do, and what will be done upon him and for him, and finally to all that he will become? when God's last end, that in which all system centers, and for which it works, is finally consummated. And what can we look for, in this view, but that God's premeditations about sin, the images it raises, the counsel it requires, the deaths and abortions it works, and the new-creations it necessitates, will be coming into view, in all the immense, ante-dated eras and mighty revolutions of the geologic process. By the mere unity of God's intellectual system, they ought to appear, and, when they do, they will as truly be consequences of sin as if they were mere physical effects, subsequent in time to the facts. There is also another account to be made of these anticipative consequences of sin; viz., that they are necessary for great ald important uses, in the economy of life, as a spiritual concern. Were there no tokers of death, deformity, prey, and abortio)n in the geologic eras, previ 20,+ IS UNIVERSAL. ous to man's arrival, and were it left us to believe that just then and there discord broke loose, and the whole frame of paradisaic order was shaken to the fall, we might imagine that God was overtaken by some shock for which he was not prepared, and that the world fell out of his hands by some oversight, which probably enough he can never effectually repair. But with so many tokens of anticipative recognition found laboring, and heard groaning, through so many eras of deaths and hard convulsions, prior to the sin they represent, we see, every one of ius, in our state of wrong-doing and denial of God, that Hie understands his work from the beginning, is taken by no surprise, meets no shock for which He is unprepared, and holds every part of his kingdom, even from the foundation of the world, in fit connection with the tragic history of sin and salvation afterward to be transacted in it. In part, we see the world reduced to unnature, infected with disease, shaken by discord, marred by deformity, subsequently to the fact of sin, just as it must be by the retributive action of causes, or by the false conjunctions produiced by the wrongs and abuses of sin. For the rest, it was anticipatively disordered for the sake of order, or in terms of necessary unity and counsel, as pertaining to the Governing Mind; displaying thus, in clearer and diviner evidence, the eternal insight and all-comprehending intelligence of HIis appointments. For, in being set with types all through and from times most ancient, of siuffering and deformity, prefiguring, in that manner, the being whose sublime struggles are to have it for their field, and showing him, when he arrives, how Eternal Forethought has been always shaping it to the mold of his fortunes-thus and thus only could he be fitly assured, in 18 205 GEOLOGIC TYPES the wild chaos of sin, of any such Counsel, or Pvower, as can bring him safely through. How magnificent also is the whole course of geology. or the geologic eras and changes, taken as related to the future great catastr)ophe of man, and the new-creating, supernatural grace of his redem:,tion. It is as if, standing on some high summit, we could see the great primordial world rolling down through gulfs and fiery cataclysms, where all the living races die; thence to emerge, again and again, when the Almighty fiat calls it forth, a new creation, covered with fresh populations; passing thus, through a kind of geologic eternity, in so many chapters of deaths, and of darting, frisking, singing life; inaugurating so many successive geologic mornings, over the smoothed graves of the previous extinct races; and preluding in this manner the strange world-history of sin and redemption, wherein all the grandest issues of existence lie. This whole tossing, rending, recomposing process, that we call geology, symbolizes evidently, as in highest reason it should, the grand spiritual catastrophe, and christian newcreation of man; which, both together, comprehend the problem of nmind, and so the final causes or last ends of all God's works. What we see, is the beginning conversing with the end, and Eternal Forethought reachling across the tottering mountains and boiling seas, to unite beginning and end together. So that ve may hear the grinding layers of the rocks singing harshly Of man's first disobedience and the fruit Of that forbidden tree and 1l the long.eras of desolation, and refitted bloom and beauty, represented in the registers of the wvorld, are but the epic in stone, of man's great history, before the time. 206 OF SIN AND REDEMPTION. And of this we are the more impressed, in the fact so powerfully shown by Mr. Agassiz,that the successive new populations of the geologic eras are, beyond a question fresh creations of God, summoned into being by his act, and fashioned in the molds of his thouglt; im-possible to l)e created or fashioned, by any existing lt,iws and forces in nature. lie does not say distinctly that they are supernatural creations, he might not so understand the word, as to be clear of all disrespect in regard to it, but the fresh act of creation which he affirms and evenl scientifically proves, exactly answers to our definition of the supernatural, as being the action of some agcnt onil the conditions of nature from without those conditions, and so Ias to produce results which the laws of cause and effect in nature could not produce. What a consideration then is it that the great question of the supernatural, which is now put in issue, and upon which depends even the faith of Christianity, as a grand supernatural movement of God on the worldcl, is settled, over and over again, aii the verdict as many times recorded in the rocks of the world! I; these great anticipative facts of the'world, it is very nearly impossible to resist the conviction of tile eternal and originial subserviency even of its solid material structure to religion, and especially to Christianit-. And exactly this ought to be true, if the Christ and his religion be such, and so related to the creation, as wev suppose him to be. All God's most ancient works are of course to be futind thus in the interest of Christianity, answering to it from their distant past, types of its comring in the distant future, one with it in design, ats being issues of the same Eternal Mind. It is difficult also to resist the conviction of a use more 207 DEFORMITIES INCREASE, specific and pointed than those to which we have referred Thus, in respect to misshapen monsters and deformed growths, it is a remarkable fact that, as the layers of geology rise, and creatures are produced that stand higher inr the scale of organic perfection, the number of deformities and retrograde shapes is multiplied. This fact has been strikingly exhibiL'ed by iugh Miller, in refutation of the development theory. It permits another use taken as a moral type of human history. Thus the serpent race makes no appearance, he observes, till we ascend to the tertiary formation, and there it wriggles out into being, contemporaneously with the more stately and perfect order of mammalia. When the mammoth stalks abroad as the gigantic lord of the new creation, the serpent creeps out with him, on his belly, with his bag of poison hid under the roots of his feeble teeth, spinning out three or four hundred lengths of vertebra, and having his four rudimental legs blanketed under his skin; a mean, abortive creature, whom the angry motherhood of nature would not go on to finish, but shook from her lap before the legs were done, muttering, ominously, "cursed art thou for man's sake above all cattle; upon thy belly shalt thou go and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life,"powerful type of man, the poison of his sin, the degradation of his beauty under it, the possible abortion of his noble capacities and divine instincts! It is also shown by Miller, in the same manner, that the fishes lost ground, or grew deformed in organization, as the human era drew nigh.* Regarding man as the highest form of organization, having a head, neck, two hands, and two feet-the latter answered by the four legs of the beasts, * Footprints of the Creator, pp. 183-191. 24)8 AS THE IIUUIAN ERA APPROACHES 209 the two wings and legs of the birds, and the four fins of the fishes-every creature will be most perfect in form, when his parts are adjusted most nearly according to the human analo gies; and it is found that all the first fishes were actually in this type of agreement. In the second formation, the for wNard fins are found to have slid up, not seldom, and stuck themselves close upon the head, leaving no neckl; much as if a man were to appear with his arms fastened to his head, close behind his ears. In a later formation, both fins, representing hands and feet, have mounted into the same position; and, as if this were uncomfortable, some races have dropped a pair altogether. Then, next, in the chalk formation, where the nearest vicinage to man is attained, appears the remarkable order that includes the plaice, turbot, halibut, and flounder; the two latter of whichli are faniliar in our American waters. They have the four fins stuck close upon the head. They are capsized so as to swim on the flat side. The mouth is twisted so as to accommodate their false position. The two sides of the jaw do not match, one being much larger and having three or four-times as many teeth as the other. The backbone is lateral, occupying one side of the body. One eye is fixed in the middle of the forehead, and the other, which is much smaller, is thrust out upon one of the side proi-nontories of the face. AVWhat now does this strange process of deformity, chronicled in the rocks of the world, signify? WAVhat but that God is preparing the field for its occupant; setting it with types of obliquity that shall match, and faithfully figure to man the obliquity and deformity of his sin? Now then heat last appears, the lord of the creation, a being supernatural, clothed in God's image, a'power to be trained up to great 18* USES OF SUCH DEFORMITIES. hess and glory-only he will find his way to the magnificent destiny of character appointed him, by struggling on, through falls, disorders, and perishing abortions, and deformities of misdoing, that implicate the whole creation, causing it to groan and travail with him in his trial. It will signify much to such a being, and especially in the advanced ages of time, when he seems to be conquering the world by his sciences, to find that, as the creation of God was rising ill order, and higher forms of life were appearing, in a series to be consummated or crowned by the appearing of man, tokens also of retrogradation, abortion, defect, deformity, were also beginning to appear; as if to foretoken the moral history he will begin, and the hlumiliations through which he will require to be led. Coming in originally as lord and occupant to have dominion, and taking possession of it finally in the higher dominion of science, a most strange, powerfully humbling lesson meets him, exactly suited to his want, and one that ought to moderate all undue conceit of science in him, and temper him to that teachable state of inquiry that allows the nobler and diviner truths of Christianity to visit his heart. What does it mean-let any student of nature answerwhat does it mean that a Perfect Mind, whose very thoughts are beauty, generates in the samne era and side by side with man, such outrageous deformities as we see, for example, in the halibut species? Here is a deep lesson, worthy of much study. There is plainly no account to be made of such appearances, or facts, till we bring in the sovereignty of moral ideas, and assume the necessity of moral types and lessons. On the wholes as the result of this inquiry into the anticipative consequences of sin, we most naturally take up the conviction, that the world, or what we call the cre 210 PANTHEISTIC VIEW OF THEM ation, is not so much a completed fact as a conatius, strug gling up concomitantly with the powers that are doing battle in it for a character; filling waithl them in their fall, rising with them or to rise, to a condition, finally, of com plete order and beauty. There is mitucl to be said for such an expectation, and it appears to be just what is held up, in the promise of a new heavens and carth, wherein dwell eth righteousness. The pnthleistic form of naturalism, it is well ]known, makes a very different account of ihe abortions and deformities of the world, and also of its future possibilities. It assumnies, for a fact, that nature is an incomplete or partially developed form of being, going on toward perfection, under laws of development, contained in itself; therefore necessarily plunging into miseliances, and producing uncomely, or unperfect fruits. Accordingly God, who is in fact the -all of nature, is a tardy but sublime Naturus, who is some-ime about to be, if he can attain to a more complete consciousness in his children, and be cleared of the blutndering process of development by which necessity is at~'ork to shape him into order. Mecantime, we ourselves are blundering on with him, they suppose, undergoing a like development. WAVhat we called sin, before we became philosophers, we now call development, and excuse ourselves firom all blame in it, because we arc only parts of nature, subject to her laws; parts, that is, of God, and subject to the eternal fate that rules him. That a soul, pressed down by the great questions of existence, should sometime reel into this gulf, is scarcely a subject of wonder; but no lealthy, manly soul, none but one that is hlag-ridden by the dark and spectral difficulties of the world, will. long stay in it. There is in the 211 PANTHEISTIC VIEW OF TIIHEM3, scheme, at first view, a certain imposing air of rational magnificence-it includes so much, it handles even God and his mystery so coolly, and clears the question of evil by a solution so easy. But after all it is not cleared. We have called our consciousness a fool, it is true, in reporting such a thing as sin, and have taken the police of our souls into custody to escape the conviction of it, and still the sin is here-in us and around us. We can not act our part, for any two hours of our life, without assuming its reality. What then becomes of our great philosophy, when, amusing itself thus in its lofty airs of reason, it is yet confronted every moment by the plain, simple denial and even scorn of our consciousness? With this too comes the argument of our woe. The air of such a creed is too thin to support our life. There is no object meeting us to fill our want, there is no meaning, or heart, in the mute, dead All; nothing in existence to give it significance, or inspire any great act or sentiment. We live in a disabled, stunted subjectivity. The inspiration of faith is replaced by the impotence of cone,eit. The world is a blunder, consciousness is a lie, the dark things of sin are developments, and the All is a Universal AIoeckery. And then what remains but to go back and set up again the great first truth, which no mortal can spare for a day, that whatever is wanted, is-therefore God, the Living, God shall be our faith; for Him we want, as the complemental good, without which existence is but a name for starvation. HIow many things too are there in the world, after all, that can nowise be accounted for by this pantheistic theory. If the disorders and deformities of nature are God 212 UNREASONABLE AND UNSATISFACTORY. 213 in partial development, how is it conceivable that any being in a state so raw, could ever have organized such complicated structures-human bodies for example where the design is so evident, the parts so many and delicate, the offices so manifold, the unity so perfect. It is inconceivable that any power-call it God, or nature, or by whatever name-capable of constructing an organiza tion so wonderful, should still be struggling up into order, through such grotesque and misbegotten shapes as are here accounted for, by the necessary imperfection of its, or his development; composing first the glorious order of the astronomic mechanism, then faltering afterward in the absurd composition of a flounder; able to fashion a crea ture of reason, but not to stand the criticism of reason; able to start new races of living creatures in the successive eras of geology, but having yet no will to start any thing, apart from the control of fate. And what can such a doe trine make of Jesus Christ, what place does it provide in the world for such a being? If nature can develop notlh ing perfect; if, by reason of inherent defect, it must needs develop itself in blunders of abortion, deformity, and pain; will it still suffice to form the mind, fashion the beauty, finish the character of a Jesus? But I am assuming here a superiority and perfection of order in the character of Jesus, that may not be admitted by the pantheist, and as the question is Lereafter to be dis* cussed, and will be made a point of consequence in the argument, I desist for the present; only requiring it of such as look for a God in development, to answer how their blind force, called nattre, staggering on through the disorders, abortions, and deformities of so many ages, and even falling into retrogradations as remarkable as its ira 214 THE IMMENSE SIGNIFICANCE OF SIN, provements, can be imagined to have produced such a soul and character as that of Jesus; a being, whether perfect or not, so high, so peculiar, original, pure, wise, great in goodness? In this and the preceding chapter, we have now traced the consequences of sin: there the consequences that must needs follow it, as effects their causes, showing what results of mischief and disorder it reveals in the soul, the body, society, and the world; here accounting for a large display of correspondent facts in the geologic history precedent, or before the arrival of man, showing that they still are as truly consequences of the fact of sin as the others being only just those marks that God's intelligence, planning the world and shaping it, even from eternity, to the uses and issues of a trial comprehending sin, must needs display. Sin, it will be seen,-is, in this view, a very great, world-transforming, world-uncreating fact, and no such mere casualty, or matter by the way, as the superficial naturalism, or half naturalistic Christianity of our time supposes. It is that central fact, about which the whole creation of God and the ordering of his providential and moral government, revolves. The impression of many appears to be, that sin is this or that particular act of wrong, which men sometimes do, but which most men do not, unless at distant intervals; and who can imagine that any thing very serious depends on these rather exe ptional misdeeds, when, on the whole, the account is balanced by so many shows of virtue? The triviality and shallowness of such conceptions are hardly to be spoken cf with patience. It is not seen that when a man even begin: to sin he must. needs cast away the principle, first, I all IS THUS DISCOVERED. holy obedience, and go down, thus, into a general lapse of condition, to be a soul broken loose from principle and separated from the inspirations of God. Only a very little philosophy too, conceiving the fact that sin is the acting of a substance, man, as he was not made to act, -:nust suffice to the discovery that, in a system, or sheime of perfect order, it will start a ferment of discord among causes, that will propagate itself in every direction, carrying, wide-spread desolation into the remotest circles. The whole solidarity of being in the creation, physical and spiritual, is necessarily penetrated by it and configured to it. Character, causes, things prior and post, all that God embraces in the final causes of existence, somehow feel it, and the whole creation groans and travails for the pain of it. The true Kosmos, in the highest and most perfectly ideal sense of that term, does not exist. Nature is become unnature, and stopping at the point reached, which of course we do note we must even say that the creation of God is a failure. But there is an objection to be anticipated here which resiires our attention, before we dismiss this part of our subject. It is that no proper Kosmos, no crystalline order of nature, according to the view stated in this cliapter, has ever yet existed. For, if we speak of the state of unnature as a consequence of sin, that state of unnlature has existed, in part, or as far as it should, anticipatively, through all the precedent eras and geologic processes of the world. The true ideal system of nature, therefore, has never existed, and there was never any such condition, or chime of order to fall from, X to shatter by sin, as we are trying all the while to suppose. All which is certainly true, if we must go entirely back of God's purposes and 215 THE KOSMOS STILL EXISTS. beyond them to find it; for what we have been tracing as the anticipative consequences of sin is nothing but the working of his ancient counsel concerning it. But the i-eal truth is that nature, original and true nature, has existed and does now exist; for, if we call our present state, as we truly should, a condition of unnature, we mean by it nothing more than that the causes included in pure nature are workling now more or less retributively, painfully, diseasedly, and so as to create a state of dislocation in the outward harmonies; a state of incapacity and bondage in the spiritual aspirations of the soul. Nature is unnature, when her causes are acting retributively-they are not, in such cases, discontinued, or thrown out of their law; but they act, in their law and under it, as perfectly and systematically as ever. The unnaturalness oi our present state under sin consists, not in the fact that nature is gone by, or is broken up, but only in the fact that her causes are all at work on the contrary ingredient, sin. It is as if .x good and healthy stomach were at work upon a stone, to digest it-still it is acting by its own laws and powers, as truly as if the stone were meat, though its acting is only a throe of distress. Were every thing, indeed, now rolling on, in sweetest bonds of harmony, according to the pure ideal of what we call nature, nothing of bad consequence or penal and retributive action any where appearing in it, no disorder of sin visible any where as a fact of anticipation, still nature would not be more truly extant thain now; for the disorder and unnature we speak of are really order and nature chastising the false fact, sin; which process of chastisement and groaning we call unnature, only because it does not answer, thus far, to the ideal workling of the scheme, disturbed by no such enemy 216 NATURE AS A WHOLE, of God and all good as it has here met. Nor does it make any the least difference, except with some speculative wordsmren, grubbing under space and time, whether death and prey and other like consequences of sin began to work, before the arrival here of man, or only after. If God's AV hole Plan respects the fact of sin before the fact, the scheme of nature was none the less real or perfect, because of the unnature working anticipatively in it, any more than it follows that the unnature subsequent has discontinued nature, whose retaliatory action it really is, and nothing more. Unnatutre then-this is our conclusion-a far-reaching, all-comprehensive state of unnature, is the consequence of sin. It mars the body, the soul, society, the world, all time before and after. AThat an argument then have we, and especially from the ante-dated tokens of evil, for the belief that God's original plan comprehends a rising side, an economy supernatural, that shall complement the disorder and fall of nature, having power to roll back its currents of penal misery and bring out souls, into the established liberty and beauty of holiness. How mnanifest is it in the world's birth, that God, from the first, designs it for a second birth; some grand palinyennesia that shall raise the fall of nature and make existence fruitful. It has been a great fault, as was just now intimated, that we have made so little of sin. It is either nothing(, or else it is a great deal more than it is conceived to be by the multitude who admit its existence. The mental and moral philosophers make nothing of it, going on to construct their sciences, so called, precisely as if the soul had received no shockl of detriment; and even the most ortho dox theologians do scarcely more than score it with guilty 19 217 BECOOME UNNATURE. conviction, regarding it seldom as a dynamic force, and then with a comprehension too restricted to allow any true impression, of its import. Hence, in great part, the general incredulity in regard to the supernatural facts of Christianity. There can be nothing supernatural, we think, because it would violate the integrity of nature. The integrity of nature! What but a world of unnature has it become already? And what has sent these hard pangs into it and through it but a supernatural force, even the human will; for this, we have seen, is a power supernatural, as truly as God, though not equal in degree; able to act on the lines of causes and vary their conjunctions from without, even as Ie is represented in the christian truth to do. HIence the disorder and disease; hence the groaning and travailing in pain together of the whole creationit is all the supernatural work, the had miracle of sin. No other name will fitly name it. Indeed, if there should be, somewhere in the universe, a race of beings that have never sinned, and they should have it set before them, in all its consequences to the physical order of things, they would look upon it, we suspect, as a miraculous agency, exerted in God's universe opposite to himself. And they would begin, we fear, to say with SIr. Hiume, unless they were better philosophers than he, that such a miracle is wholly incredible; that the confidence they have in the beneficent, harmonious action of nature, is too strong to be broken by any possible testimony to such doings. Therefore this tremendous, all-revolutionizing miracle must be a fiction. Of course it is not a miracle. It is only a fact supernatural, a grand assault of man's supernatural agency upon the world. AVe shall speak more definitely of miracles 218 IS THERE TO BE A REMEDY? hereafter. For the present, we only say that the supernatural agency of God in the world's redemption, is now shown to be most clearly wanted; and we do not perceive wherein it is more incredible that God should act, in his way, upon the lines of natural causes, than that we should do it, in ours. Of course he will act with a higher sovereignty, worthy of himself. His divine supernatural power will be divine, our human will be human. If we have broken or clouded the crystal and can not restore its transparency, he can. If we bring deformity, he will bring beauty. If we die, he will bid us live. WVill he do this? That is now the question that remains. 219 0 CIIAPTER VIII. NO REMEDY IN DEVELOPMENT, OR SELF-REFORMATION. WAE are now at the point of catastrophe in God's plan, where it is next in order to look about for some remedial agency, or dispensation, that shall restore the lapse and bring out those results of order and happiness, that were proposed by God, as we must believe, in his act of creation. Are we then shut up to nature and the hope that she will surmount her own catastrophe, or may we believe that her inherent weakness will be complemented by a supernatural and divine movement, that shall organize a new economy of life? The former is the ground taken by all the naturalizing classes of our time. Nothing can take place, they say, which is not operated under anrd by the laws of nature. To believe that any thing can take place which is from without, or from above the laws of nature, is unphilosophical and savors of credulity. That there is such a thing as misdirection they will admit, and some will admit also the fact of sin: and it will be agreed by them all that, in consequence either of misdirection, or of sin, there are a great many apparent disasters and disorders in the world, or especially in human society, that want some kind of remedy. Our present object is to look into their principal remedies, or grounds of expected restoration, and try what virtue there is in them. They are two, or presented under two distinct forms, both of which may be taken as rival gospels opposite to Christianity. By the class who formally reject, or ignore Christianity NO REMEDY IN DEVELOPMENT. development is regarded as the universal panacea-all the apparent evils of the world are to be cured by development. The class who professedly teach and believe the christian gospel, reducing it still to a mere scheme of ethics, or natural virtue, rely more on the individual will to be exerted in self-government, self-culture, and the doing of justice, mercy, and other good works. Of these -rial gospels, both from within the terms of nature, I will now speak, in their order. I. Of development, or as it is often phrased, the natural progress of the race. The world is just now taken, as never before, with ideas of progress. The human race, it is conceived, exists under laws of progress. The philosophers, or would-be philosophers, have even undertaken to reduce the laws of progress to a scientific statement. They conceive that all the advanced races of mankind began at the level of the savage state, and have been set forward to their present pitch of culture, civilization, wealth, and liberty, by laws of dlevelopment in mere nature. The multitude go after them, embracing the welcome idea of progress only the more enthusiastically, that they are so much taken with the new word deveTonIment, conceiving that there is great science in it, or, at least, some unknlown kind of power. If there are any evils, or bitter woes in society, development is goiing to cure them; for the laws of development are at work to prQduce progress, and they will as certainly do it, as the laws of matter will determine its motions. All crime and sin are going. finally to be cured in this manner, and character is going finally to blossom, on the broken stock of nature, even as flowers are developed out 19* 221 THE TRUE DEVELOPMENT ot stocks not broken, and roots not poisoned by disease. Finding thus a gospel of progress in the world itself and the mere laws of existence, what need of any such antiquated mythology as the christian gospel brings us? Or, if the argument is not openly stated in this manner, still it is virtually adopted; for how many that suppose Christianity to be true, still have it only as a thing by the way, a straw floating down this flood anci passing on with us, to see the brave work human progress is doing. if it is not called a myth or wild tradition, still the really trusted gospel is phrenology, chemistry, and the other new sciences, with their grand economic creations, sulch as telegraphs, railroads, steamboats, and the like-(not omitting the new and better bible discovered in the oracles of necromancy;) and these are going at last to raise the world, no thanks to Clhristianity, into a state of universal brotherhood and felicity! The lowest charlatans and some of the most cultivated savans hold much the same language, and trust in the same gospel of development. Now that there is, or should be such a thing as development, we certainly admit. All the human faculties are capable of development by exercise or training, and every human being will, of necessity, be developed to a certain degree, both in mind and body, by the growth of years and the necessary struggles of life. But that human so ciety was ever carried forward, by a single shade, in the matter of religious virtue, under mere laws of natural developinent, we utterly deny. It is even a fair subject of doubt whether any nation, or race of men, was ever advanced in civilization by inherent laws of progress. Certain it is that no individual was ever cleared of sin by development, or restored even proximately to the state of 222 INCLUDES REGENERATION. primal ord r and uprightness; equally so that the vast, far spreadingll, organic woes of the world are forever immedi cable by any such remedy. In one view, it may be rightly said that the whole ob ject of God, in our training, is to develop in us a charac ter of eternal uprightness; developing ailso. in that man ner, as a necessary consequence, grand possibilities of so cial order and well being; though, when we thus speak, we include the fact of sin and the engagement with it of a supernatural grace, to lift up the otherwise remediless fall of nature. But this, if we must have the word, is christian development; a development accomplished, by carryin,g us across and up out of the gulf of unnature, where the hope of all progress and character was ended. WVe are developed, in this sense, by and throLugh an experience of that state of wrong, whose woe it is that it is the fall of nature and, in that sense, the end of all development. But this, it will be seen, is not the popular doctrine of progress, which assumes the fact of a progress in right lines, without any call for supernatural interference, without any regenerative or new-creative process. There may be hard throes of suffering experience and bitter struggles with individual and social evils, but time, it is supposed, will teach, and experience redeem, and so the great battle of natural development will lead to final victory. In this manner, progress, it is supposed, will at last cure all the evils which we have been recapitulating as the fiuit and fall of sin. That such a hope is groundless we will now undertakle to show. Consider, first, the savage state, whence it is continually assumed that history and civilization spring. The doctrine is that all the advanced nations of mankinid b)egan as sav 223 THlE SAVAGE RACES ages, and that all the peoples of the world now existing, are on their way up, out of the savage state, into civilization and a state of social virtue. Contrary to this, no savage race of the world has ever been raised into civilization, least of all, into a state of virtue, by mere natural development. All which is evident by just that which dclistinguishes the savage state; for it is the principal and, in fact, only comprehensive distinction of the svav,ge races, that they are such as have fallen below progress, -ng on from age to age without progress, and sometimes quite dying out; for the simple reason that there is no sufficient capacity of progress left, to perpetuate their life, in proximity with more advanced races. They are beings, or races physiologically run down, or become effete, under sin; fallen at last below progress, below society, become a herd no longer capable of public organization, and a true, social life. It signifies nothing for such races to ask more time; time can do nothing for them better than extermination. It is well, if even a gospel and a faith above nature can now get such hold of them as to raise them. They are, in Fact, just as far off from the original unpracticed, undeveloped state of nature, as the most advanced races; antd, as David said over the child-"I shall go to him but he shall not return to me," so it is possible for the living andl advanced races to go downward, but never for these dead ones, unassisted, to rise. WVe have proofs enough that, peoples advanced in culture may become savages, but no solitary example of a race of savages that have risen to a civilized state, by mere development. And the real fact is, that we may much better assert a law of natural deterioration, than a law of natural progress; for, apart from some influence or aid of a supernatural kind, the deterio 224 MAKE NO PROGRESS. ration of society, under the penal mischiefs of sin, would be universal. By the supposition it should be so; for, as all society is under sin, it is of course suffering the retributive action of penal causes, and as all discord propagates only greater discord and can not propagate harmony, it follows that the run of society under sin must be downward, from bad to worse, unless interrupted by some reiuedial agency from without. It is somewhat difficult to test our particular opinion on this subject by actual examples; for we can not commonly trace the unhistoric and subtle methods, in which any race of men may have been impregnated with new possibilities; sometimes by other religions, with which they are made conversant by commerce and travel; sometimes by sporadic and supernatural revelations; traces of which are discernible, not only in the extra-Jewish examples -I Jethro, Job, and Cornelius, but in the literature of all the cultivated races, and sometimes, here and there, in the demonstrations even of the wild races. That the old Pelasgie race was raised, by a mere natural progress, to the hi4p pitch of culture displayed by the Greek civilization, we have no reason whatever to believe. Their literature, from Hesiod downward, is sprinkled with too many traces of sentiment derived from the Jewish and Egyptian religions, to suffer the opinion that they are a nation thus advanced, by the simple motherhood of nature. The Roman civilization was, in fact, a propagation of the Greek, with the advantage of a right infusion from her serious and venerable f~athers, who, like Numa, communed with invisible powers in retired groves and silent grottos. The Teutonic race, often named as an example of natural devielopmnent, is known to have been set forward by t-he 220 226 THE SAVAGE IS NOT A F'RESI, civilizations it conquered and its early conversion to the Christian faith. Meantime how many great and powerful races have become extinct. We look for the Nirnevites with as little hope as for Ninus himself. The Assyrians, Babylonians, and Medes are also vanished. The Egyptians, Phcenicians, Etruscans, Romans, once the great powers of history and civilization, are extinct. The Aztec race, run down to such a state of incapacity as not even to understand their own monuments, or know by whom they were built, we rightly call savages, and look upon as hlaving just now come to their vanishing point. What now does it mean that so many races, empires, languages of the world, have become extinct? Is this a token of infallible development? Do we see in this the proof that all the evil and sin of the world are going, at last, to be surmounted and cleared by the inevitable law of progress? What would our new prophets of development say, if they were told, when exulting so confidently in the glorious future of their own and all other nations, that a day will certainly be reached, when the Anglo-American race is become an extinct race, Washington a contested locality, and the Constitution of the United States a hopeless search of the world's antiquarians. Distant as such an expectation may be from our thoughts, and contrary as it may be to the illimitable progress of which we hear so often, it is only that which has happened a hundred times already, and, Christianity apart, may as well happen again. We have spoken of the evident falsity of the supposition, that all the advancement of the world begins at an originally savage, state; that being, in fact, no first, but anl old and decayed state rather, where long ages of deterioration under sin have finally extirpated the original possi BULrT AN OLD STATE. bilities of;,l,,mnccment. The first stagte of human so ciety was sin,l~y a stage of c:rudity, or crude capacity, and was no(t nmore remote from the state of high civilization tl~:n it was from the low, dclecrepid, ani malized col(liti()n vwhich we now designate by the term ~(Lsaace. All i.t:cs begin together at the state of simple being, or crl(ll, (,;)acity, and only make the fatal leap of sin together. After that they separate, some ascending, led up by tl(T,i' Holy seers and lawgivers, and others, not having or not liy ing heed to such, going down the scale of penal cldts,, }'ittions to become savag'es. A full half the globe is l),,),ledl thus by tribes which are either reduced to tl;'k stvage condition, or else are far on their way toward it -s lumbled in capacity, physically deterio rated; and t}i:t, to such a degree, that the springs of recu perative force (l)l,)car to be quite gone. Considering now the certain ft, thltat all these bad their beginning in a simply crude state, having the same hi,gh possibilities and affinities, wlhicli the races had that are now most advanced, what are we to think of mere development? This advantage or conditior. of crude possibility they hadl, many thousands of years g(o, and the result is what we see. Ihaving run down tlhuts miserably under the boasted gospel of natural progress what hope is there iii this gospel for the final restoration) of all things? It is fatally (opposed too by the geologic analogies. Here it stands, the settled verdict of science itself, that the successive eras of vegetable and animal life have not been introduced, by any law of progress, or by any mere development of nature anid her fortes. The atttempts that have been made to show this are even pitiable failures. They ask us, in fact, to believe greater miracles in the name of 227 THE HEALING FUNCTION, development than any we encounter in the gospel history. Thus, we have displayed in the new creations of the rocks themselves, a standing type of that moral fiew creation, by which the distempered and fallen races of the world are to be raised up. Lest we should think any such divine intervention incredible, and try to find some better hope for man in the gospel of development, we are here familiarized with the fact, that no such law of development has been able to carry on the geologic progress of the planet, and that God has been wont, in all its ancient depopulations, to insert new germs of life creatively, and people it with living creatures fresh from his hanld. Again it is a consideration scarcely less impressive, that God has managed to insert into the physiological history of animals and vegetables an always-present, living-type of the process itself, by which, as transcending all mere development, his supernatural remedy operates; so that we may see it, as it were, with our eyes, and become famrniliar with it. I refer to that wondrous, inexplicable function of healing, discovered in the restoration or repair of animals and vegetables, that are wounded or sick. lWhen a tree, for example, is hacked, or bruised, a strange nursing process forthwith begins, by which the wound is healed. A new bark is formed on the edges of the wound, by what method no art of man can trace, the dead matter is thrown off, and a growth inward narrows the breach, till finally the two margins meet and the tissues interweave, and not even a scar is left. So in all the flesh wounds of animals, and the fractures even of bones. So too in regard to all diseases nc-t terminating mortally; they pass a crisis, where the healing function, whatever it be, triumphs'over the poison of the disease and a recovery 228 I NO MODE OF DEVELOPMENT. follows, in which the whole flesh and fiber appear even to be produced anew. Here then is a healing power, whose working we can no way trace, and one that, if we look at the causes of disintegration present, appears even to accomplish what is impossible. Regarding the body as a machine-and taken as a merely material organization what is it more?-it is plainly impossible for it to heal, in this manner, and repair itself. The disordered watch can never run itself into good repair. In machines, disorder can only propagate and aggravate disorder, till they become a wreck. The physicians and physiologists call the strange healing function the vis medicatrix; as if it were some gentle, feminine nurse, hidden from the sight, whose office it is to expel the poisons, knit the fractures, and heal the wounds of bodies. And as names often settle the profoundest questions, so it appears to be commonly taken for granted here, that the healing accomplished is wrought by a nursing function thus named, as one of the inherent properties of vital substances. It may be so or it may not; for the whole questiqn is one that is involved in the profoundest mystery. The healing property may be one of the incidents of life itself, or it may be a distinct power whose office it is to be the guard and medicating nurse of life, or it may be the working of a grand supernatural economy set in closest vicinage to nature, to be the physical, visible, alwayspresent token of a like supernatural economy in the matters of character and the soul. But whatever view we take of this healing power in physiology, or whatever account we make of it, these two points are clear. First that the healing accomplished is no fact of develoj.ment. There is no difficulty in seeing how existing 20 229 THE HEALING FUNCTIOX tissues and organs may create extensions within their own vascular sphere, and this is development. But where a new skin or bark is to be created, or a new interlocking made of parts that are sundered, the ducts and vesicles that might act in development, being parted and open at their ends, want mending themselves. Thus, when the parts of a fractured bone are knit together, and we see them reaching after each other, as it were, across a chasm, where there are no vessels to bridge it or carry across the lines of connection, development might well enough make the parts longer, but how could it make them unite across the fracture, by which they are separated? The development of a tree, wounded by some violence, would only enlarge the wound, just in proportion to the enlargement of the surface which the bark should cover. A fevered body does not cure itself by development. As little can we imagine that the restored hea and volume of the body is created by the development of the fever. No shade of countenance therefore is given to the hope that human development, under the retributive woes of sin, will be any sufficient cure of its disorders, or will set the fallen subjects of it forward, in a course of social progress. This also, secondly, is equally clear, that, as the myste rious healing of bodies yields the development theory no token of favor, it is only a more impressive type, on that account, of some grand restorative economy, by which the condition of unnature in souls and the world, is to be supernaturally regenerated-just such a type as, regarding the relations of matter to mind, and of things natural to things spiritual, we might expect to find incorporated, in some large and systematic way, in the visible objects and processes of the world. And how much does the healing 230 NOT DEVELOPMENT. of bodies signify, when associated thus with the grand elemental disorder and breakage of sin! What is it, in fact, but a kind of glorious, every where visible sacrament, that tokens life, and hope, and healing invisible, for all the retributive woes and bleeding lacerations of our guilty, filleii state, as a race apostate from God. I-Iencie too probably the fact that transactions of healing are so closely connected, the world over, with sentiments of religion. Perhaps the fact is due, in part, to some latent association that connects diseases with sin and, to much the same extent, connects the hope of healing with some possibility of a divine medication. HIowever this may be, the mystery of healing, as we are constituted, stands in close affinity with God and the faith of his supernatural operation. Thus it was that the priests both of the Egyptians and the Greeks were their physicians, and that their precepts and prescripts of healing were kept in their temples. Esculapius too, the god of medicine, had his own altars and priests. At a latter period, the Essenes and the christian monks, accounted by some to be their successors, had their pious explorations of diseases and the sacred powers of remedies; reducing medicine itself to a function of religion. Later still, Paracelsus himself began the restoration of medicine, as a kind of chl-emical theosophy. And as Christianity itself classes healings among the spiritual gifts, and calls the elders of the church to pray for the sick; so we find that some of our Indian tribes hlave traditions of one whom, as related to the Great Spirit, they call the Uncle, and who came into the world by a mysterious advent, long ages ago, and instituted thl) "Grand AIedicine," which is, in fact, their religion. ft il dif,cfult tc resist the impression, in such demon 231 WE HAVE NO FAITH strations as these, of some very profound connection between the healing of bodies and the faith of a supernatural grace of healing for the disorders of souls. Else why this persistent tendency in men's opinions of healing, to associate the fevered body and the leprous mind, and seek the medication of both, in the common rites of religion. But there is a shorter argument with the scheme that proposes to find a remedy for all the ills of character and society, in what it calls a more complete development. It is this: that no one ever dares practically to act on the faith of such a doctrine, whether in the state or the family. The civil law is, in fact, and to a very great extent, a restraint on development, and has its merit in the fact that it is. It forbids men to unfold themselves freely, in their base passions and criminal instigations, and deters them from it. Were it not for the state, protecting itself by such means against development, society would be quite dissolved. What we discover in families is even more remarkable. There are multitudes of parents that believe, as they suppose, with all their hearts, in the good day coming through the progress of human development. And as part of the same general faith, their views of education make it to consist simply in educing or developing just what is in the child's nature. But they do not act on that principle in the house, and dare not; though probably enough they are never aware of the fact. They maintain a family regimen that consists, to a great degree, not in development but in repression. To let the child have his way and act himself out freely, without restraint, is 11o part of their plan. Probably it never occurs to them as a rational possibility. Just contrary to this, they lay their foundations in a restriction of natural development; hoping 232 iN DEVELOPMENT. in that manner to extirpate unruly and base instigations, and form a habit in the child of' doing better things than he would most naturally do. And it is remarkable that, in the fulfil lin g of their office, which is so far an office of repression, they are acting as a force supernatural. Ac cording to our definition, it will be remembered that hu m an wills ar e strictl y supernatural in their action, and the child, we here discover, spends all the first years of his life under the regulative and repressive action of such will s. He i s i n them, in fact, more truly than be is in nature, and the house is a little creation made for him by their keeping. He is handled in infancy as they direct, fed a s they direct when h e begins to ask for food, clothed as they direct, commanded, limited, forbidden, repressed, and so is finally grown up to an age of self-regulation. The process may be called his development, but the most remarkable thing in it is that it is a restraint of development. W h y this restraint? If development is going to be the gospel of the world's redemption, what makes it wise, in the common sense of the world, to restrain that gospel? Are the ills of society and the world going to be cured too soon? If development can do all that is promised, why n o t give it a hearty godspeed every where, and let every human creature, old and young, act out what is in him, in the speediest, most unrestricted manner possible? A glance in this direction is sufficient to show us that all we hear of inevitable progress, and the necessary laws of development, is hollow and deceitful. It is not development but n e w creation th at c an bring us the remedies we look for. NTature has powers and capabilities that want development. Reduced to real unnature (which is her present state,) she al so has disordered passions, base instigations, greedy ap 20* 233 0 SELF-REFORMATION, petites, ferocious animosities, propensities to canning and falsehood, which want no development, and which, if they are developed, unrestrained, annihilate all chance of progress, and even forbid the existence of society. Mere development therefore promises nothing. We come now II. To the other rival gospel, that which proposes to dispense with all supernatural aids, and to restore the disorders and the fallen character of sin, by a self-cultivated, or self-originated virtue. Expectation is here rested on the human will, which, in our view, may be done, it will be said, with greater reason, since we make it, even by definition, a stupernatural power. But there are different orders or degrees, it must be observed, of supernatural power; the huiiman, the angelic, the divine; which all are alike in the fact that the will acts from itself, uncaused in its action, but very unlike as regards potency, or the extent of their efficacy. What we are endeavoring, in our argument, to show, is the fact of a divine supernatural agency concerned' in the upraising or redemption of man. But if man can raise himself, by his own will, that is, by his humanly supernatural force, then plainly there is no need of a divine intervention from without and above nature, to regenerate his fallen state. Still it will not be denied by the class of teachers most forward in maintaining this form of naturalismn, that all religious virtue is dependent, in a certain sense, on the concourse and spiritual helping of God; Only that concourse and helping, it will be said, belongs to the scheme of nature, and never undertakes to help us out of the retributive woes and disorders of nature; for nature is the system of God, including all he does or can 234 11 It NO SUFFICIENT HOPE. rationally be expected to do. To imagine that such a mode of piety, or religious virttue, should be maintained by the human will, would be less extravagant if there were no sin, no consequent woes and disorders; though even then it would be the faith of a God imprisoned, or en tombed, in the inexorable laws of nature; with whom the soul could aspire to no real converse and could have no social sympathy, more than with a wall. Before this un bending prisoner of fate, this nature-God, this dead wall, he might go on to dress up a character and fashion a mere ly ethical virtue; cultivating truth, honesty, justice, tem perance, kindness, piling up acts of merit, and doing legal works of charity; but to call this character religious, however plausible the show it makes, is only an abuse of the term. Religious character is not legal. It is an inspiration-the Life of God in the Soul of Man; and no such life can ever quicken a soul except in the faith of a Living God, which here is manifestly wanting. Not even the pure angels could subsist in such a style of virtue; for it is the strengthl and beatitude of their holiness, that it is no will-work in them, but an eternal, immediate inspiration of God. Consciously it is not theirs, but the inbreathing life of their Father. But this ethical gospel, this religion acted as in pantomime, becomes even more insipid and absurd, when the fact of sin, with all its consequences of distemper and disorder, is admitted. Now the problem is to find by what power the original harmony of nature can be reconstructed, and its currents of penal disaster turned back. Can the human will do this? That it can act upon the courses of nature we know,-sin itself indeed is the staring and incontrovertible proof that it can. But it does not follow, 235 SELF-RESTORATION as we have said already, that the power which has broken an egg, or shivered a Crystal, can mend it. That is a thing more difficult, and demands a higher power. Consider simply the change that is needed to restore the lapsed integrity of a soul. Its original spontaneity to good is gone, its silver cord of harmony is broken, the sweet order of life is turned into a tumult of inward bitterness, its very laws are become its tormentors. All its curious, multiform, scarcely conceivable functions, submitted by its laws to the will, are now contesting always with each other and are wholly intractable to its sovereignty. And still it is expected of the will, that it is going to gather them all up into the primal order, and reconstruct their shattered unity! Why, it were easier, a thousand fold, for man's will to gather all the birds of the sky into martial order, and march them as a squadron through the tempests of the air! Manifestly none but God can restore the lapsed order of the soul. IHe alone can reconstruct the crystalline unity. Which, if Hie does, it will imply an acting on those lines of causes in its nature, by whose penal efficacy it is distempered; and that is, by the supposition, a supernatural operation. Besides, the work is really not done, till the subject is restored to a virtue whose essence is liberty. And how is man, by his mere will, to start the flow of liberty? Ie may do this and do that, and keep doing this and that, carefully, punctiliously, suffering no slackness. But it will be work, work only, and the play of liberty will never come. Hle can never reach the true liberty till an inspiration takes him, and the new birth of God's Spirit makes him a son. The light he manufactures will be darkness, or, at best a pale phosphorescence, till Christ is 236 IS IMPOSSIBLE. revealed within. His self-culture may fashion a picture with many marks of grace, butt,the quickening of God alone can make it live. If he relish his work in a degree, it will be the relish of conceit, not the living fountain of a heavenly joy, bursting up from unseen depths within. He will advance fitfully, eccentrically, and without balance, making a grimace here, while he fashions a beauty there; for there is no balance of order and proportion till his faith is rested in God, and his life flows out from the divine plenitude and perfection. Meantime his ideals will grow faster than his attainments, and if he is not wholly drunk up in conceit, he will be only the more afflicted and baffled, the greater his pertinacity. 0, if there be any kind of life most sad, and deepest in the scale of pity, it is the dry, cold impotence of one, who is honestly set to the work of his own self-redemption! Do we then affirm, it will be asked, the absolute inabil ity of a man to do and become what is right before God? That is the christian doctrine, and there is none that is more obviously true. Wherein, then, it may also be asked, is there any ground of blame for continuance in sin? Because, we answer, there is a Living God engaged to help us, and inviting always our acceptance of his help. Nor is this any mere gracious ability, such as constitutes the joy of some and the offense of others. No created being, of any world, not even the new-formed man before his fall, nor the glorified saint, nor the spotless angel, had ever any possibility of holiness, except in the embrace of God. This is the normal condition of all souls, that they be filled with God, acted by God, holding their will tni his, irradiated always by his all-supporting life. Just ihis it is that constitutes the radical idea of religion, anJ 237 SELF-RESTORATION differs it from a mere ethical virtue. God is the prime necessity of all religious virtue, and is only more emphatically so to beings under sin. The necessity is constituent, not penal; it becomes penal only when communications originally given to the fallen, but now cast away by their sin, require to be restored. There is really no difficulty in this question of disability under sin, save that which is created by the togs of unintelligent speculation. It is taken extensively, as if it were a question regarding man's inherent, independent ability, when in fiaet he has no such ability to any thing. Can he obey God, or not? is he able to do God's will, or not? is the question raised; and it is understood and discussed as being a question that turns on the absolute quantities of the man, and not in any respect on relative aids and conditions without; much as if the question were whether he has weight, apart from all relative weights or attractions? or whether he can stand alone, apart from any thing to stand upon? or whether he has power to live a year, apart from all food and light and sl-helter and air? The true question of ability is different. It is this: whether the subject is able to rise into a holy life, taken as insphlered in God, and all the attractive, transforming, and supporting influences of the grace of God? Apart from this, he certainly is not able. By mere working on himself and manipulating, as it were, his body of sin and deathl, he can do just nothing in the way of self-perfection; and, if he could even do every thing, as regards self-transformation, there would be no religious character in the result, any more than if his works were done before the moon. Religious character is God in the soul, and without that. all pretenses of religious virtue are, in fact. 238 I IS IMPOSSIBLE. atheistic. Such is the disability of a fallen man, taken as acting on himself; and the condition of an aingcel, acting in that manner, is no better; for he could not begin to act thus, without being himself fallen, at the instant. But if the question be what a man has power to do, taken in the surrounding,s of divine truth and mnercy, which in fact include the co-operating grace of the divine Spirit, the true answer is that he can do all things. HIe has, at every moment, a complete power as respects doing what God requires of him at that moment, and is responsible accord ing to his power. And yet, when we say a complete power, we mean, not so much that he is going even then to do something himself, as that he is going to hlave something, done within, by the quickening and transforming power of his divine Lord, in whom he trusts. His power is to set himself before power, open his nature to the rule of power, and so to live. Even as we may say that a tree has power to live and grow, not by acting on itself and willing to grow, but as it is ministered unto by its natural surroundings, the soil, the sun, the dew, the air. It has only to offer itself openly and receptively to these, and by their force to grow. Where, then, it may be asked, is the significance of free will, whlich we have even shown to be a power supernatulral? If the disordered soul can not restore itself, or by diligent self-culture regain the loss it has made by sin, wherein lies the advantage of such a power, and where the responsibility to a life of holy virtue? Our answer is, that by the freedom of the will we understand simply its freedom as a vo]itional function; but mnere volitions, taken bv themselves, involve no capacity to reogenerate, or constitute, a character. Itoly virtue is not 289 RESTORATION POSSIBLE, an act, or compilation of acts taken merely as volitions, but it is a new state or status rather, a right disposedness, whence new action may flow. And no mere volitional exercise can change the state or disposedness of the soul, without concurrent help and grace. WVe can will any thing, but the execution may not follow. To will may be present, but how to perform, it may be difficult to find, -difficult, that is, when simply acting in and upon ourselves; never difficult, never possible to fail in doing., when acting before and toward a Divine Helper, trustfully appealed to. And this is the power of the will, as regards our moral recovery. It may so offer itself and the subordinate capacities to God, that God shall have the whole man open to his dominion, and be able to ingenerate in him a new, divine state, or principle of action; while, taken as a governing, cultivating, and perfecting power in itself, it has no such capacity whatsoever. And this is the only rational and true verdict. Say what we may of the will as a strictly self-determining power, raise what distinctions we may as regards the kinds of ability, such as natural and moral, antecedent and subsequent, we have no ability at all, of any kind, to regenerate our own state, or restore our own disorders. Salvation is by faith, or there is none. There is then, we conclude, no hope of a restoration of society, or of a religious upraising of man, except in a supernatural and divine operation. Progress under sin, by laws of natural development, is a fiction-there is no hope of progress, apart fromn the regenerative and quickening power of a grace that transcends mere natural conditions and causes. As little room is there to expect that 240 ONLY BY THE GRACE OF GOD. mien will be able to heal their own spiritual maladies and cultivate themselves into heaven's order, by a merely eth ical regimen maintained in the plane of nature. The only remedy for the human state, under sin, is that which comes into nature, as the revelation of a divine force. Suppose now there might be found some great and pro found thinker, who has never come under the impress of Christianity, or even heard of such a thing as a plan of supernatural redemption; a man of the highest culture, least under the power of superstition; a free-thinker as regards the religion of his country and times; and suppose that he, by the mere force of his own thought, struggling with the great problem of humanity, society, and progress, should be found to rest his hope deliberately on some supernatural remedy, as the only sufficient remedy for the world; giving forth a testimony that has been audited and accepted by the greatest and best minds of all subsequent ages; revealing, as it were, a Christianity before the time, as far as the want of it and the fact of some such operative power are concerned; how unlikely willet be that some new science of development, or some more rational gospel of self-culture, has just now discovered the essential weakness or childishness of a supernatural faith. Precisely such a witness we have in the great Plato, seconded by the coincident testimony of many others, only less conspicuous than he. Beginning at the base note of human depravity, he says, " I have heard from the wise men that we are now dead, and that the body is our sepulcher."* Again he says, "The prime evil is inborn in souls;" "it is implanted in men to sin."t Again, "The nature of mankind * Gorgias, fol. 493. t Leg., p. 731. 21 241 THE SAME IS HELD, is greatly degenerated and depraved, all manner of dis. orders infest human nature, and men, being impotent, are torn in pieces by their lusts, as by so many wild horses."* Hie also speaks of an "evil nature," "an evil in nature," "a disease in nature," "a destruction of harmony in the soul," and much more to the same effect. Then again, tracing the origin of this diseased state, he says, "That in times past, the divine nature flourished in men; but, at length, being mixed with mortal custom, it fell into ruin; hence an inundation of evils in the race."t Again, "The cause of corruption is from our parents, so that we never relinquish their evil way, or escape the blemish of their evil habit.": Inquiring now for the remedy which is able to restore and re-establish the virtue lost, he discusses at large ,he question, whether virtue can be taught, and deliberately concludes that it can be produced by no mere teaching. Hie says, "If, in this whole disputation, we have rightly conceived the case, virtue is acquired, neither by nature's force, nor by any institutes of discipline or teaching, but it comes to those that have it, by a certain divine appointment [or inspiration,] over and above the mind's own force or exertion."~ HIe also adds that, if we could be dressed up into a show of virtue by teaching, it would be the same as "to be adorned with a shadow, whereas virtue is a thing real and solid,"-rooted, that is, in the heart's inmost life. The same conviction is expressed in a different form when he says, " That after the golden age, the universe, by reason of that confusion that came upon it, would have been quite dissolved, had not God again taklen it upon him to sit at the helm and *Politicus, p. 274. f Critias, p. 400. t Timeus, 103. ~ Meno., 89. 242 EVEN BY THlE WISEST HEATHiENS. 243 govern the world, and restore its disordered and almost disjointed parts to their primeval" order."* And accord antly with such a conviction, he recommends a faith in divine help and supernatural guidance, and says, "he who prayethl to God, and trustetli in his good fiavor, shall do well."t Again, "God is the beginning and end of all being, and whloever follows his guidance shall be happy."t And that he nmeins, by this, to comnmend a faith in super natural aid, is evident when he says, in his Timeus, "that beatitude, or spiritual liberty, is only to have the demon," that is, the good spirit, "dwelling in us," alluding probably to the reinrkable declaration of his teacher, Socrates, "that a certain demon, or good spirit, had followed him even from his childhood, with his good suggestion or influence, signifying what he should do."~ I-e brings in Socrates also nmaintaining this remarkable dialogue with his pupil, Alcibiades: "Dost thou know by what means thou mayest avoid the inordinate mnotions of thy mind?" He answers, "Yes." &Sc. "How?" Al. "If thou wilt, Socrates." &(. "Thou speakest not rightly." AL "How then must I speak?" Soc. "Say, if God will,"i[ &c. Here then, we have a man rising up out of heathenism, (ne of the greatest of mankind, testifying his conviction of the disability and ruin of human nature, and his confidence in some supernatural aid, as the only hope of the world-a,ll this instructed by his own consciousness, and by so many years of philosophic study, in the great problem of humanity and human progress. For no teacher, ever of ourI modern time, is more intent on the possibility of some better ideal state of the wvorld and society than he. * Politicus, 251. f Epinom., 980. t Leg., 715. ~ Theages, 128. I1Aleib., 135. THEY ARE OPPRESSED In this problem, indeed, it may even be said that he wore out his life. Seneca speaks quite despairingly of our possible recov ery by any means. He says, "Our corrupt nature has drunk in such deep draughts of iniquity, which are so far incor porated in its very bowels, that you can not remove it, save by tearing them out;" And yet he conceives, in the faintest manner, some possibility of supernatural aid. "No man is able to clear himself, let some one give him a hand, let some one lead him out"*-as if asking for some Christ unknown, to come and bring the soul forth from its thralldom. lee also says, as if he were writing out another VIIth chapter of the Romans, "What is it, Lucilius, that, when we set ourselves in one way, draws us another, and when we desire to avoid any course, drives us into it? What is it that so wrestles with our mind, allowing us never to set tle any good resolution once for all?"t And Ovid also joins in the same confession-" If I could, I would be more saue. But some unknown force drags me against my will. Desire draws me one way, conviction an other. I see the better and approve, the worse I follow.": "0 wretched man that I am, who shall deliver?" is the sigh that interprets and fitly concludes their confession. Passages in great number could be cited from other aii cient writers, in which they express the same conviction, that man can never be raised out of his sin, by any mere natural force. But these are points of opinion. We pre fer to add, as being more significant, some illustrations also of the practical longing they had for the atppearance of some divine helper, and the manifestation of God ini l Ep., 52. tEp., 52.; Metam, vii.: 18. 244 BY THE UNCERTAINTIES OF TRUTII. 245 some gracious revelation of his presence. In illustrations of this kind, we shall see exactly what would be our own condition, if these supernatural manifestations, denied by so many in our times, were taken away, and we were really set back, as we require ourselves to be, in the proper darkness of nature. It was a continual source of misery to the most enlightened of the pagan scholars and philosophers that, whatever they seemed to discover, or to establish by the light of natural reason, was yet never discovered, never established, but was still overhung by a cloud of uncertainty. Thus we hear Xenophlanes closing off his work on Nature, in these words-"No man has discovered any certainty, nor will discover it, concerning the gods, and what I say of the universe. For if he uttered what is even most perfect, still he does not know it, but conjecture hangs over all." Oppressed by this feeling of uncertainty, they were only goaded the more painfully in their search after the real meaning of life, and waited, with a longing only the more hungry, for some revelation of divine things, if haply it miht sometime be given. Thus Plato, speaking in his Phbado of the soul, and its destiny, says-"It appears to me that, to know them clearly in the present life, is either impossible, or very difficult; on the other hand, not to test what has been said of them in every possible way, not to investigate the whole matter, and exhaust upon it every effort, is the part of a very weak man. For we ought, in respect to these things, either to learn from others how they stand, or to discover them for ourselves; or, if both these are impossible, then, ta!ing the best of human reasonings, that which appears the best supported, and embarking on that, as one who risks himself] on a raft, so to 21* AND TESTIFY THEIR LONGING sail through life-unless one could be carried more safely, or with less risk, on a secret conveyance, or some Divine Logos." What a condition of hunger for knowledge!-a great and mighty soul, prying at the gates of light, to force them open, catching the faintest gleams of truth or opinion, and comimitting his all tenderly to them as to a slender raft upon the sea, only venting, with a sigh, the mysterious hint of a Divine Logos, who will possibly come to him within, and be a surer light, a safer guide. And this dim hint of a better revelation is ventured more boldly in his Alcibiades, wihen he says-"We must wait patiently until some one, either a god or some inspired man, teach us our moral and religious duties and, as Pallas in Homer did to Diomede, remove the darkness from our eyes." How little incredible was it to him, the highest philosophic intellect the world has ever seen, that some incarnate messeng,er of God, or teacher supernaturally sent, may sometime come to enlighten the world! What in fact does he tell us, but that he is waiting for Jesus the Christ! At a later period, or about the time of Christ, when the faith of the ancient religion or mythology had become more nearly extinct, the struggle of souls, shut up to the mere darkness of nature and reason, became more sad and painful. Strabo, for example, falling back oni the religion of Mloses, received from him a faith in one Supreme Essence, who he thought should be worshiped without images in sacred groves; and there, he said, "the devout should lay themselves down to sleep, and expect signs from God in dreams."* Not daring to look for any waking experience of God supernaturally revealed in the soul, he must still indulge the hope that the Eternal will, at least, come to it * Lib. XVI. Chap. 2. 246 FOR A SUPERNATURAL REVELATION. 247 in the land of sleep and dreams. Poor Pliny, confessing too the wretched hunger of his soul, saw no relief to it better than suicide. "It is difficult," he writes, "to say whether it might not be better for men to be iwholly without religion, than to have one of this kind [viz., that of his country,] which is a reproach to its object. The vanity of man, and his insatiable longing after existence, have led him also to dream of a life after death. A being full of contradictions, he is the most wretched of creatures, since the other creatures have no wants transcending the bounds of their nature. Man is full of desires and wvants that reach to infinity, and can never be satisfied. Among these so great evils, the best thing God has bestowed on man is the power to take his own life."* Scarcely less sad is the desperation of the pagan Cecilius, represented in the dialogue of Minutius Felix, as maintaining that, without any reasonable evidence for the old religion, they must yet cling to it as a tradition; for he felt that they must have some semblance of a religion, some opinion of a supernatural care and a converse of Deity with men. "How much better is it," he said, "to receive just what our fathers have told us, to worship the gods the3 taught us to reverence, even before we could have any true knowledge of them, to allow ourselves no right of private judgment, but to believe our ancestors who, in the infancy of mankind, near the birth of the world, were even considered worthy of having the gods for their friiends." What a strait is this for an intelligent being to be inholding fast, by his will, upon the belief of a supernatural approach of the gods, in times gone by, without any pres ent evidence! * gist. Nat., Lib. VII. IN ALL WHICH, THEY ARE It is a very fine thing for many, saturated as they are with christian truth, and all but oppressed with the evidences of a new creating grace and gospel, to invent speculative difficulties, and finally take it up as wisdom or the better reason, to believe in nothing but mere nature, and her laws. But the recoil of the soul from such negations will come after, and it will be terrible quite beyond their conception. WAVe see this in the facts just stated, and yet more affectingly in the history of Clement the Roman, and of his conversion. He tells how he was harrassed from his childhood, by questions which paganism could not help him to answer; such as relate to his being and immortality, the origin of the world and its continuance, when it began, when it will end, and whither his present life is to carry him. "Incessantly haunted," he says, "by such tho,ghts as these, which came I knew not whence, I was sorely troubled, so that I grew pale and emaciated. * * * I resorted to the schools of the philosophers, hoping to find some certain foundation. I saw nothing but the piling up and tearing down of theories. Thus was I driven to and fro, by the different representations, and forced to conclude that things appear, not as they are in themselves, but as they happen to be presented on this or that side. I was made dizzier than ever, and from the bottom of my heart, sighed for deliverance."* Then he tells how he resolved to visit Egypt, the land of mysteries and apparitions, there to hunt up some magician who could summon a spirit for him from the other world; for he thought, if he could see a spirit, that would settle the question of immortality, and give him a fixed point of truth. But in this unhappy state, inquiring, distressed, agitated, he * Neander's list., Vol. I., pp. 32-33. 248 WVITNESSES FOR CHRIST. fell in with a christian gospel, heard it preached, there discovered vwhlat his soul had been aching so long and bitterly to find, and there he found rest. These illustrations from history show us most effectually how little of true science there is, after all, in those who boast the laws of progress, or a gospel of self-cultivation, as more rational and hopeful than a gospel of faith. After all, they may see that, when left to the proper darkness of nature, it is no such rational and luminous state as they thought, but a night of gloom, a longing vacancy, a hunger insupportable. Nature has no promise for society, least of all, any remedy for sin. 249 -1 CHAPTER IX. THE SUPERNATURAL COMPATIBLE WITH NATURE AND SUBJECT TO FIXED LAWS IF, as we have shown, there is no hope for man, or human society, under sin, save in the supernatural interposition of God, we are led to inquire, in the next place, what rational objection there may be to such an interposition? And we find two objections alledged. First, that any such interference of supernatural agency is incompatible with the order of nature. Secondly, that the supernatural agency supposed, is itself dispensed without law, and contrary, in that view, to reason. Of these I will speak in their order. And I. I undertake to show that the supernatural divine agency, required to provide an efficacious remedy for sin, is wholly compatible with nature; involving no breach of her laws, or disturbance of their systematic action. I have already shown that nature is not, in any proper and complete sense, the system of God, but is in fact a subordinate member only, of a higher and virtually supernatural system, to whose uses it is subject. It is, in fact, a Thing; while the real kingdom of God is a kingdom of Powers, Hlimself the Regal Power. Both Hie and they are continually using the Thing, and pouring their activity into it, as the medial point of their relationship; and this, in a way, we now propose to show, that is nowise incompatible with its laws; for the very sufficient reason that, by these laws, it is originally submitted to their activity. Not even what we call the distemper and disorder of COMPATIBLE WITII NATURE. wrong supposes any overturning of those laws; it is only a result of mischief, produced by throwing in that which provokes their penal consequences. In the same manner, it will be seen that not even miracles, wrought by a super natural divine agency, necessarily imply any removal, or suspension of such laws; for nature is subjected, by her laws, both to God's activity and to ours, to be thus acted on, and varied in her operation, by the new combinations or conjunctions of causes, we are able to produce. Ac2ordingly every result produced, in this manner, whether by God or by men, represents nature supernaturally acted on, not nature overturned; that is, it is natural in one view, in another supernatural; natural as coming to pass under and by the laws of nature; supernatural as coming to pass by new conjunctions of causes, which are made by the action of wills upon nature. What an immense action upon nature are we ourselves seen to have, as a race, when we consider the multifarious wheels and engines we have put at work, the heavy burdens we carry round the globe in our ships, the structures wq raise, the cultivation we practice. We makle the world, in fact, another world. All of which is referrible to a force supernatural, in the last degree. Nature, unapplied or uncombined by our wills, could do no such thing. Wills only have this power, and wills are supernatural. If now we have a power so immense over the world, as we see in all our works and wonders of contrivance, is it credible that God can have no way of access to nature, no power at all over nature? Is he the only will excluded from a sovereignty over it? To illustrate this point yet farther, we will suppose a company of youth or children, engaged in playing at 251 THE SUPERNATURAL ball. The ball is an inert spherical substance, that will lie on the ground forever, unless it is raised by some cause out of itself, and will never act, save as it is acted on. It has a certain tenacity of parts and an elastic body, but no power in itself to move. Nevertheless we see it flying through the air in lively play, smitten, caught, thrownthe central object and instrument of what is called a game; that is of a social strife between the players. It is, for the time, a medium of commerce, in the lively battle of its motions, between so many contesting agents. But the motions it has in the air, we observe, represent so many arms throwing it by its weight, or driving it by its elasticity. So far its play is natural only. Then, if we inquLire what moves the arms, we d.secever that it is done by the sudden contraction of muscles, acting under purely mechanical principles, and this is natural. If now we push our inquiry still farther, asking why the muscles contracted thus and thus, we discover that this also happened, by reason of mandates sent down to them on the nervous cord, which, again, was equally natural. But if we go still farther and ask what originated or caused the wills to originate the mandates, the true answer is, that it was the wills themselves, acting by no causation, able to act or not; so that, if some one or more of the players is a truant from school, or from home, transgressing, in the play, a direct order of restriction, he will know that he is doing wrong and blame himself for the wrong he does, simply because it is an immediate, irresistible conviction of his mind, that he is impelled to his disobedience by no cause whatever. Doubtless he has ends, reasons, motives, but these are no causes of his act; for he knows that he could and ought to have resisted them all Here then we 252 ,, COMPATIBLE WITH NATURE. finally arrive at a power supernatural, moving all the hands and bats of the players. The ball is at one end of so many chains of causes, and the free wills of the players at the other. The ball would never have stirred but for the arms, nor these but for the contractions of the muscles, nor these contracted but for the mandates sent down to them, which mandates, in the last degree, are the peremptory acts of so many free wills, or powers, that act supernaturally, from no causation. Just here then rises the question, if the play is thus carried on by causes which, in the last degree, are supernatural, is there any overturning or disorder of nature implied in it? Manifestly not; and for the simple reason that the bats, and arms, and hands, and muscles, are by their very laws subordinated, as chains of causes, to the supernatural power that wields them. The play is natural therefore, as being through and by those subordinated agents; and supernatural, as being from that power. We have no thought of a miracle in the case, or of any implied overturning of nature which is shocking to our faith. On the contrary, the event is so common, so remote from any thing extraordinary, that we are very likely to look upon it as a transaction, wholly in the world of natural cause and effect. We come now to the application. Nature is to God and his spiritual and free creatures, what the ball is to the players. In one view, we may regard the Almighty Ruler of the world as the sensorium and active brain of the world; having an immediate power of action through every member and every line of causes in it; able, in that manner, to maintain a constant living agency in its events, without really infringing its order, or obstructing and suspending its laws in any instance. Nature is pliant 22 253 THE SUPERNATURAL thus to him, as the body of the players to them; and as the natural order of, their body is not violated by the mandates they put upon it, so there is full opportunity for God to do his wonders of power and redemption in the earth, without violating any condition of natural order and system whatever. His access to all the lines of causes in nature may be as truly normal as that which the soul has, at that secret point of the brain where it delivers its mandates to the body. WVe are speaking here, it will be observed, not of God's possible activity, as being the activity of natuLre. That is a different conception. WVhat we now say is, that, supposing all the forces and laws of nature to continue forever, there is also room for the perpetual acting of God upon the lines of causes in nature, doing his will supernaturally in it, or upon it, just as we do, and yet in perfect compatibility with the laws and the settled order of nature. He may as well act IIimself into the world as we, and nature will as little be overturned by his action as by ours. Nor will it create any difficulty that Hie acts like Himself, and in ways proportionate to his infinite majesty. That nature is in fact submitted to his action, as to ours, in the manner supposed, is evident from the report of science itself. For when the geologists show that new races of animal and vegetable life have tallken a beginning, at successive points in the history of thie creation, that whole realms of living creatures disappear again and again, to be succeeded by others fresh from the hand of God, what does it signify but that the atoms and elemental forces of nature are so related to God, that they dclo, by their own laws, submit themselves to his will, 254 i COMPATIBLE WITH NATURE. fl,)wing into new combinations, and composing thus new germs of life? These successive repopulations of the rocks were not produced by so many overturnings of leature-that is too extravagant for belief, and stands in no harmony with what we know of God. On the contriary, every element of force and every atom of matter concerned in these new births of life, was acting, we are to believe, in its moment of new combination, precisely as, according to its inherent properties and laws, it ever had done and ever will do. It was only inrstigated by a divine force not in its natural laws; and in the quickening of that, yielding itself up, by these laws, to organize and live. Nor was the visitation of Mary, glorious and sacred as the mystery was, a transaction at all different in principle, or one that involved, in fact, any violation of nature not in-olved in the other just named. So also when we discover the world, or human race, groaning under the penal disorders and bondage of sin, the deliverance of those disorders by a supernatural power involves no overturning of the causes at work, or the laws by which they work, but only that these causes are, by their laws, submitted to the will and supernatural action of God, so that he can arrange new conjunctions, and accomplish, in that manner, results of deliverance. Indeed, a physician does precisely the same thing in principle, when, appealing as hlie thinks to the laws of substances, he brings them into combinations that are from himself, and places them in connections to exert a healing force. It will farther assist our conceptions and modify our impressions of this subject, if we inquire briefly into the office and probable use of what is called nature. That itature is not appointed as any final end of God, we have 255 NATURE IS ADJUSTED before shown. It is only ordained, as we then intimated, to be played upon by the powers; that is, by God himself and all fiee agents under him. Instead of being the veritable system or universe of God, as in our sensuality, or scientific conceit, we make it, we may call it more truly the ball or medial substance occupied by so many players; that is, by the spiritual universe under God as the Lord of Hlosts. There could be no commerce of so many players in the game referred to, without some medium or medial instrument; and the instrument needed to be a constant, invariable substance, as regards shape, weight, size, elasticity, inertia, and all the natural properties pertaining to it. If the ball changed weight, color, density, shape, every moment, no skill could be acquired or evinced in the use of it; there would be no real test in the game, and no social commerce of play in the parties using it. Therefore it needed to be, so far, a constant quantity. So, demonstrably, there needs to be, between us and God, and between us and one another, some constant quantity, so that we can act upon each other, trace the effects of our practice and that of others, learn the mind of God, the misery and baseness of wrong, the worth of principles, and the blessedness of virtue, from what we experience; attaining thus to such a degree of wisdom, that we can set our life on a footing of success and divine approbation. What we call nature is this constant (quantity interposed between us and God, and between us and each other-the great ball, in using which, our life battle is played. Or, considering the grand immnensity- of planetary worlds, careering through the fields of light, all these, we may say, rolling eternally onward in their rounds of order, bearing, their wondrous furniture with them, such 256 I TO RIECEIVE THE SUPERNATURAL. 257 as cience discovers, and weaving their interminable lines of causes, are the ball of exercise, in which, and by which, God is training and teaching the spiritual hosts o)f his empire. They are set in a system of immutable order and constancy for this reason; but with the design, beforehand, that all the free beings or powers shall play their activity on them and into them, and that Hie, too, by the free insertion of his, may turn them about by his counsel, and so make himself and his counsel open to the commerce of his children. So far, therefore, from discovering any thing undigni fied or superstitious in the admission of a supernatural agenlcy and government of God in the world, it is, in fact, the only worthy and exalted conception. It no more humnbles the world or deranges the scientific order of it to let God act upon it, than to let man do the same; as we certainly know that he does, without any thought of overturning its laws. On the other hand, to imagine, in the way of dignifying the world, that God must let it alone and simply see it go, is only to confess that it was inade for no such glorious intent as we have supposed. To serve this intent, two things manifestly are wante(d, and one as truly as the other; viz., nature and the supernatural, an invariable, scientific order, and a pliant submission of that order to the sovereignty and uses of wills, human and divine, without any inlfiingement of its constancy. For if nature were to be violated and tossed about by capricious overturnings of her laws, there would be an end of all confidence and exact intelligence. And if it could not be used, or set in new conjunctions, by God and his children, it would be a wall, a catacomb, and nothing more. An(l yet this latter is the world of 22* NO RESTRICTION THEREFORE scientific naturalism, a world that might well enough answer for the housing of manakins, but not for the exercise of living men. It would seem to be enough to forever dissipate any such unbelieving tendencies, simply to have caught, for once, the difference between the constancy of causes separated from uses, and the constancy of causes limbered and subjected to the uses of eternal freedom and intelligence. That is the world of causation, this of religion; that a dumb-bell exercise for arms that are dumbbells themselves, this a living order, set in the contact and consecrated to the uses of spirit; that a world as being a world, this a grand gymnasium of powers whom God is training for society and commerce with himself. Furthermore, it is plain that, if there is no supernatural agency of. God permissible or credible in the world, then there is practically no government over it. It makes no difference, touching the point here in question, whether we regard nature as being literally a machine, wound up to run by its own causes apart from God, or whether we regard the causes and laws as being themselves the immediate action of God, always present to them and in them. For if he is present thus, only as the soul of its causes or the will operating in its laws, then that presence, if restricted, as naturalism requires, to the mere run of nature, and allowed no liberty of help in the disorders of evil, is scarcely better than the presence of Ixion at his wheel. If we speak of God, the Almighty, he is a being mortgaged for eternity to the round of nature; a grim idol for science to worship, but no Father to weakness or Redeemer to faith. Or if we inmagine that God has so planned the world 258 UPON GOD'S LIBERTY. of nature that, running on by its own inherent laws and causes, it will alwvays, by a prc-established hlarmonly, bring just the events to pass that are wanlted; soothe the ,sorrows, comfort the repentances, hear the prayers, redress the wrongs, chastise the crimes of his subjects; still it is with our faith practically as if it were living in a mill, and not as if it were concerned, hour by hlour, with the living God. God is really not accessible. Ae have access only to the mill we are in, with joy to feel it run ning! There is no such reciprocity between us and God as to answer the wants of our hearts, or the necessities of our moral traininllg. Besides, if it be maintained that nature is the proper universe of God, and that no conception is admissi;.ble of powers outside of nature actilg upon it, to vary the action it would otherwise have bv itself, then follows the very shocking consequence that, since the creation, God has had and can hereafter have no work of liberty to do. Nature is his monument, and not his garment. Not only are miracles out of the question, but counsel and action also. Ile is under a scientific embargo, neither hearing nor helping his children, nor indeed giving any signs of recognition. And the reason is worse, if possible, and more chilling than the fact; viz., that if he should stir, he would move something that science requires to be let alone! A great many christians are confused and chilled bv a difficulty resembled to this, feeling, whenl they go to God in worship or prayer, that nothing can reasonably be expected of him, because reason allows him to do nothing. It is as if he were one of those spent meteors to which the Indians offer sacrifice-a hard, cold rock of iron, which they worship for the noise it made a long tite ago, 259 260 THE SUPERNATURAL DISPENSED wlhen it fell from the sky, and not because it is likely e ~er to make even a noise again. Just here, the view we are advancing is seen to have an immense practical as well as speculative consequence. It finds how to conceive God in a state of as great activity now, as he was when he made the world-always active from eternity to eternity. Every work of his hand is pliant still to his counsel. He is doing something, able to do all we want. In all events and changes he has a present concern. He turns about not the clouds only, but all the wheels of nature, by his ever-living power and government. He is an Agent, as much more real than Nature, as he is wider in his reach and more sovereign. HIe can produce variant results through invariable causes, and so can make the world of thlings keep company with the variant demands of want, weakness, wickedness, and merit; of love, truth, justice, and holy supplication, in his children. It is no longer as if, at some given point in the solitude of his eternity, he waked up and created the worlds, since which time he has neither done nor can ever be expected to do any thling more, because it is the right now of the laws of nature to do every thing uninterrupted. Contrary to this, he is the Living God, and can as readily meet us and bend himself and his works to our condition or request, as a man, withlout any in fringement of his body, can bend it to his uses. Nature is seen to be subjected to his constant agency by its laws themselves, which laws he has never to suspend, but only to employ, having the great realm of nature flexible as a hand, to his will forever. Now le is no more fenced away from us by nature, no more closeted behlind it, to sleep away his deaf and idle eternitv; bur he is with us BY FIXED LAWVS. :.-l about us, filling all things with his potent energy and fatherly counsel. He maintains a relationship as real and practical with us, as we have with each other. II. I undertake, in opposition to the objection which supposes that the supernatural agency of God is itself subject to no law, or system, to show that it is regulated and dispensed by immutable and fixed laws. As intelligent creatures, we can have no comfort under a condition ruled by no law or system, and conformed to no principles of intelligenllce. AVe instinctively demand that every thing in God's plan shall stand in the strict unity of reason, even as the old astronomers strive to comprehend the heavenly bodies and their motions, in the figures of geometry and the fixed proportions of arithmetic. This high instinct of our nature God, we may be sure, will never violate. 1. Since God has inserted in our nature this instinctive opinion of law, as necessary to the honor of his government and the comfort of our reason under it, we have, in the fact, a very certain proof that his government will be such as to meet our respect, and satisfy the yearnings of our intelligence. 2. The fact that nature is a realm, organized under fixed laws, is itself the best and most satisfactory evidence that such is the manner of God also in things supernatural. Wvho that simply looks on thle heavenly worlds, for example, can suffer a doubt afterward, that God will do every thing in terms of law and strict systematic unity. 3. Since God is the sovereign intelligence, the Perfect Reason, he will himself have all affinity for law and systematic unity, as much stronger than we, as he is higher in order than we, and bro'der in tho comprehension of his 261 RTHERE ARE DIFFERENT KINDS understanding. HIence it is impossible to believe that, in any thing, even the snmllest, he will deviate from rules of universal application —least of all in the hig,wst order of his works, even such as he displays in the grace of our redemption. 4. The moral and religious need we have of such a faith makes it indispensable. To let go of such a faith, or lose it, is to plunge at once into superstition. If any christian, the most devout, believes in a miracle, or a providence that is done outside of all system and law, he is so far on the way to polytheism. The unity of God always perishes, when the unity of order and law is lost. And we may as well believe in one God, acting on or against another, as in the same God acting outside of all fixed laws and terms of immutable order. Indeed I suppose it was in just this way that polytheism began. The transition is easy and natural, from a superstitious belief in one God who acts without system, to a belief in many who will much more naturally do the same. But the main difficulty here, is not to establish a reasonable conviction that the supernatural works of God must be dispensed by fixed laws; it is to find how this may be, or be intelligently conceived. And here lies the main stress of our present inquiry. To open the way then to a just and clear conception of the great fact stated, it will be necessary to enter into some important distinctions concerning law, or what is properly meant by the word law. The word is used with many varieties of meaning, but always, and in all its varieties, having one element that is constant, viz., the opinion had of its uniformity; as that, in exactly the same circumstances, it will always and forever 262 AND ORDERS OF LAWS. do, bring to pass, direct, or command precisely the same thing. Without this no law is ever regarded as a law. Observing this fundamental fact, we notice the distinc tion next of natural and moral law. Natural law is the law by which any kind of being or thing is made to act invariably, thus or thus, in virtue of terms inherent in itself; as when any body of matter gravitates by reason of its matter, and according to the quantity of its matter. A[oral law pertains never to a thing, or to any substance in the chain of cause and effect, but only to a free intelli gence, or self-active power. Its rule is authority, not force. It commands, but does not actuate or determine. It speaks to assent or choice, inviting action, but operating nothing apart from choice. It imposes obligation, leaviing the sub ject to obey or not, clear of any enforcement, save that of conviction beforehand, and penalty afterward. It will be seen at once that God's supernatural works in Christ and the Spirit are not reducible under either of these two kinds of law, the natural or the moral. To a certain extent God's nature will be a law to his action, even as ours is a necessary law to us. Thus, if we are intelligent, our intelligent nature will manifest effects of intelligence. If we form necessary ideas of fitgure, space, time, truth, right, justice, there will be somiething in our action that reveals these ideas. In like mannier, if we are free agents, it is made impossible for us, by a fixed law of nature, to act as mere things, under the law of cause and effect. So, if God is infinite in his nature, then it is a fixed 19n of his nature that he shall indicate infinity in his action, and if he has geometric ideas, that his works shall, by a necessary consequence, have some fixed relation to tlhe laws of g ometry; such as we discover in thl)eir spheres, 263 26-4 THERE ARE DIFFERENT KINDS and orbits, and projectile curves, and in the subtle triangulations of light. Thus it is righltly affirmed by the great Hooker, that "the being of God is a kind of law to his working."* And so far does he carry this opinion as to hint the probable necessity that God, being both one and three, an essential unity and a threefold personality, there will, of course, be something in his works correspondent with his nature. So again if we speak of the law moral, that is a law as completely sovereign over God as it is over us. It is the eternal, necessary law of right, or of love; a law that he acknowledges with a ready and full assent forever; that which determines the immutable order, and purity, and glory of his character. And then, of course, the law accepted in his own character, will be the law published to his subjects to be the rule of theirs. Moral law then, by the free consent of God, shapes the divine chlaracter, and so the character and ends of his government. But though natural law and moral law have much to do, as here discovered, in determining and molding all the conduct of God, we do not immediately conceive what is meant by the fact, that the supernatural works of God are dispensed by fixed laws, till we bring into view a third kind of law, viz., the law of one's end, or the law which one's reason imposes in the way of attaining his end. Moral law, we have said, shapes the character of God, and that determines his end. Since he is a morally perfect being in his character, moral perfection or holiness will be the last end of his being, that for which he creates and rules; for, if he were to value holiness only as the means of some other end, such as happiness, then he would even * Ecclesiastical Polity, Vol. I., p. 72. II AND) ORDERS OF LAWS. disrespect holiness, rating it only as a convenience; which is not the cl.aracter of a holy being, but only anl imposture in the name of such a character. Refgarding holiness then as God's last end, his world-plan will be gathered round the end proposed, to fulfill it, and all his counsels will crystallize into order and system, subject to that end. For this nature will exist, in all her vast machinery of causes and laws; to this all the miracles and supernatural works of redemption will bring their contributions. Having this for his end, and the supernatural as means to his end, the divine reason will of course order all under fixed laws of reason, which laws will be so exact and universal as to make a perfect system. How this may result, we can see from a simple reference to ourselves. Thus, if a man undertakes to be honest, having that for an end, then it will be seen that his end so far becomes a law to all his actions; that is, a law selfimposed, one which his reason prescribes, and which, in accepting his end, he freely accepts. So if a man's end is to be rich, we shall see that his end is a law to his whole life-plan, or at least so far a law that it fails only where his reason or judgment falls short of a perfect perception. Or we may take a case more exact and palpable, the case of a player at the game of chess. The end he proposes is to win the game, and that end, subordinating his reason or skill, will become a law to every move he makes on the diagram, except where his skill is at fault, or his understanding short of comprehension. If now we suppose him to be gifted with a perfect skill, or an all-perceiving reason, it will result that every move made will be determined with such exactness and uniformity, that, if he were te play the game over a million of times. ie,vmld never, 23 2 6 Irl 266 GOD'S LAWS, IN THE SUPERNATURAL, in a single case, move differently, in exactly the same cir cumstanccs. Here then is what we mean by affirming that all God's supernatural acts, providences, and works, supernatural though they be, will yet be dispensed, in all cases, by immutable, universal, and fixed laws. It will be so because his end never varies and his reason is perfect. Therefore his world-plan, though comprehending the supernatural, will be an exact and perfect system of order, centered in the eternal unity of reason about his last end. There will be nothing desultory in it, nothing irregular, nothing so particular as to happen apart from rule and universal counsel. The order of the heavens, and the angles of the light will not be more perfect, because the reason of the supernatural is equally precise and clear. Tile same work will always be done, in the same circumstances, without a semblance of variation. Even as the dial, under the laws of nature, will make the same shadow, at the same hour, for an eternal succession of days, so the good gift and perfect from above will come down from the Father of lights, punctual and true in its order, as from one whose counsel is perfect, and with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning. Order, everlasting order, reigns where least we look for it, and where the unthinking and crude mind of superstition would deem it even a merit, that God had broken loose firom his eternity of law, to bless the world at will. But how is it conceivable, some one may ask, that such workls as are comprehended in the range of human redemption should takle place, systematically, under fixed laws? To this, we answer that it is not necessary to such a conviction that we should be able to conceive how these I I I I ARE SHAPED BY HIS ENDS. operate, or what they are. All we ieed is to find the possible and probable fact; whlielh having found, we can as little doubt, or dismiss the conviction of some presiding law, as we can the faith of universal laws in nature, where we do not know the laws, or can not discover the secret of their action. For example, we know, in general, what is the law of miracles; viz., that they are wrought as attestations of a divine mission in those by whom they are wrought; but their particular occasions, times, and properties, why wrought by this and not by another, why at one time, or in one age, and not in succeeding ages, we may not be able to discover. The law is beyond our investigation, but that there is a law, and that exactly the same miracles will be wrought, if wrought at all, in exactly the same conditions, or spiritual connections, even to eternity, we Lave no more room to doubt, than we have to question God's intelligence. For, if God's end is the same, he can never deviate or omit to do exactly the same things, inii exactly the same circumstances, without some defect of intelligence. Either now, or before, he must confess to a mistake. If be is perfect in wisdom now, he was not then; if then, he is not now. But when we say "exactly the same circumstances," it is important for us to notice the extent of the qualification; for this will bring into view a great principle of distinction betweenl the natural and the supernatural, apart from which the extraordinary and apparently desultory manifestations of the latter can not be understood. Nature is a machine, compounded of wheels and moved by steady powers. Hence it goes in rounds or cycles, returning again and again into itself, producing, thus, seasons, months, and years; repeating its dews, and showers, and storms, and 267 THEY OPERATE AS LAWS, varied temperatures; in the same circumstances, or times, doing much the same things. But it is not so in the affairs of a mind, a society, or an age. There the motion is never in circles, but onward, eternally onward. Nothing is ever repeated. No mind or spirit can reproduce a yesterday. No age, the age or even year that is past. The combinations of circumstances may have a certain analogy, but they are never the same, or even nearly so. If they are near enough to require a repetition, by the Saviour, of his miracle of the loaves, they will yet be so far different as to require a difference ill the miracle And where the outward conditions appear to be exactly the same, the inward states and spiritual connections may be so various as to take away all resemblance; requiring Paul to raise a Publius out of his fever at Malta, and leave a Trophimus sick at Miletumi. We have no argurnent against uniformity and law in such diversities; for, in reality, there is no recurrence of circumstances and conditions such as, at first view, might be supposed. So, if miracles appear in one age and not in another, it is because the world is moving on in a right line, reproducing no conditions and circumstances of the past, but, by conditions always new, is demanding a treatment correspondently new. Hence, while the course of nature is a round of repetitions, the course of the supernatural repeats nothing, and for that reason takes an aspect of variety that appears even to exclude the fact of law. But it is so only in appearance. God's perfect wisdom still requires the same things to be done in the same circumstances; and, when not the same, as nearly the same as the circiimstances are nearly resembled. Every thing transpires in the uniformity of law. 268 t iI i I WITH ETERNAL UNIFORMITY. Thus we may assert as confidently, as if it occurred a hundred times a day, that a supernatural event, never known to occur but once, takes place under an immutable and really universal law; such, for example, as the great, world-astounding miracle of the incarnation. In exactly the same conditions, if they were to occur a million of times in the universe, (which may or may not be a violent supposition,) precisely the same miracle also would recur, and that with as great certainty as the natural law of gravity will cause a stone to fall, when for the millionth time its support is taken away. Living here upon this ant-hill, which we call the world, and seeing only the yard of space and the day of time our field occupies, we are likely to judge that an event which never occurred lbut once since the world began, must be an event apart from all order and system; even as a savage, but a little more childish than we, might imagine that some new deity is breaking into the world, when he sees the airstone fall, because he never saw the like before. Indeed, we have only, to look into the appearings of the Jehovah anigeel, previous to the incarnate appearing of the WAVord, noting all the approaches and gradual preparations of the event, to see how certainly God has a way and a law for it, and will not bring, it to pass till the law decrees it and the fullness of time is come. Could we look into the history, too, of the innumerable other worlds God has comprehlended in his reign, what a lesson might we thence derive from events counterpart to this of the incarnation, varied only to meet the varied conditions of their want, character, and destiny. Though we may not be able, creatures of a day, to unfold the law of this grand miracle, and reduce it to a formula of science how little reason 23* 269 270 THEY ARE OFTEN AS WELL KNOWNN have we, in our inability, to question the fact of such a 1law. Besides, it is a fact that the laws of a great many of God's supernatural works are made known, or discovered to us. Thus God dispenses the Holy Spirit by fixed laws. Prayer, also, is heard by laws as definite as the laws of oequilibrium in forces. And what is called the doctrine of the Spirit and the doctrine of prayer, as given in the scriptures, is, in fact, nothing more nor less than the unfolding to us, if we could so regard it, of the laws of the Spirit and the laws of prayer, as pertainingir to the supernatural kingdom of God. Indeed, there is wanting now, for the more intelligent guidance of christian disc,iples, to consolidate their faith and save them flom the extravagances of fianaticism, a practical treatise on the laws of prayer, of spiritual gifts, and of the dispensation of the Holy Spirit generally. These two great powers, the hearing of prayer and the dispensing of the Spirit, are like the waterfalls and winds of nature, to which we set our wheels and lift our sails, and so, by i,le(ir known laws, take advantage of their efficacy. A crystal, or gem, that is being d(listilled and shaped in the secret depths of the world, is not shaped by laws as well understood as the law of the Spirit of life, when it molds the secret order and beauty of a soul. Our conclusion therefore is, that all God's works, even such as are most distinctly supernatural, are determined by fixed laws. This is true of all supernatural events, with the single exception of the bad and wickled actions of men. And these are out of all terms of law, not because they are supernatural, but only because they are bad. IndeQd, it is a somewhat singular and eveni curious i I II i i I AS THE LAWS OF NATURE. fact, that while so great jealousy-is felt in our time, of miracles and all immediate spiritual operations of God, as being so many violations of order and fixed law in the universe, the only known events in the world, of which that is really true, are the bad actions of bad men, or of bad spirits generally. These are not subject to any fixed laws; they consent to no law. They are determined, neither by the laws of causality, nor by the laws of a good end; which are laws of reason, truth, and beneficence. They have no agreement with the world, or with God, or even with the constituent well-being of the doers themselves. All that can be apprehended of miracles is true of them and even more. Their damning miracle is every where, and the confusion they make is real. If those persons who are so ready to apprehend some destruction, or implied destruction of law in the faithl of miracles, would turn their thoughts upon these real disorders, and conceive them as the only known facts in our world that have no subjection to law, they would have a good point of beg;nnipg for the cure of their skepticism generally. It can inot be necessary to pursue this topic farther. But it may be well to notice, before we drop the subject, one or two false impressions very commonly entertained by the natural philosophers and poets of nature, whose skepticism is oftener grounded in such impressions than in formal arg,,iments. They are greatly imnpressed by the immutable reign of order and law in nature, deeming it the highlest point of sublimity, in all the lknoNN n manifestations of God. Not seldom indeed is this I)oint magnified by them, in terms of admiration, that rcfl(eet a certain contempt on the christian ideas of God; as if it were possible 271 la GOD'S HIGHEST WORK only to an overeasy credulity, to imagine that God will descend from his highli position of law, to do such things as the preaching and praying disciples of Christianity expect of Hlim. Gazing into the sky, and beholding the eternal, changeless roll of the worlds, every orb in the track, where the astrologers of Babylon and Egypt saw it long ages ago, never to vary or falter in the longer ages to come-image, how sublime, they exclaim, of the divine greatness! Greater and sublimer still, that the same undeviating rule of law is equally conspicuous in the smallest things; that in every salt and pebble there is a little astronomy of atoms whose laws are as old as the stars, and whose constancy is a reflection of theirs! No, the wonder of God's way is not here, but it is that he can make constancy flexible to so many myriads of uses, arnd the uses themselves-all but the abuses —a system of or der and law, as complete and perfect as that of the stars Constancy, as a mere post, or position, has no dignity The true dignity and miracle of order is constancy madt flexible to use and expression. Sir Charle Bell had ni, such thought as that he could magnify the beauty of God's way in the hand, by simply showing the curious articulations by which it is mechanically stre gthened in its gripe; the chief wonder, the real rira,Jl of beauty in the instrument, as he well understoo', lies in its flexibility, its ready submission to so many and such endlessly varied uses. Let us not be taken by the mere stability of nature, because it compliments our vanity by the easy understanding it permits. Magnitudes, weights, distances, regularities, are not the highest symbols of God's creative dignity. The glory, the true sublimity of God's architectural wisdom is that, while his work stands fast in immutable or 272 II i II I IS NOT THE WORLD OF NATURE, der, it bends so gracefully to the humblest things, without damage or fracture, pliant to all free action, both Hlis and ours; receiving the common play of our liberty, and be coming always a fluent medium of reciprocal action be tween us; to Him a hand showing his handy work, or even a tongue which day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth forth knowledge of Hiim; to us the ground of our works, the instrument of our choices, and yet, in the order, all, of a perfect counsel and of laws as immutable as his throne. In this rests the doctrine of faith, the doctrine that justifies prayer, enables the disciple to believe that God can notice him, and move among causes to help him; raising him thus into a state of ennobled consciousness, how superior to the low mechanical skepti cism which thinks itself dignified in the discovery that God, incrusted in the stiffness of his scientific order, has no longer any power to bend himself to man. The other point alluded to has reference to the comparative estimate of nature and the supernatural. Unexercised in the great world of christian thought, uninitiated by lears of holy experience in its deep mysteries, the natural philosopher and poet very commonly look upon the supernatural, or what is the same, Christianity, as comprised of a few stray facts, or ghostly wonders, much less credible than they might be, and turn away, with a kind of pity, from a field so narrow, to what they call a broader and more satisfactory teaching; that of the great school of nature. Hiere is variety they say, beauty, magnificence, greatness, anrid a sound, consistent order, worthy of God. This, they imagine, is the true revelation. How little do such minds conceive what the world of ,supernatural faict comprises. Go to nature for the great 273 AND THE HIGHEST SUBJECTS and quickening thoughts, the wonders and broad truths Call nature the grand revelation! Is it more to go to nature and know it, than to know God? Are there deeper depths in nature, higher sublimities, thoughts more captivating and glorious? In the mineral and vegetable shapes are there finer themes than in the life of Jesus? In the storms and gorgeous pilings of the clouds, are there manifestations of greatness and beauty more impressive than in the tragic sceneries of the cross? Nature is the realm of things, the supernatural is the realm of powers. There the spinning worlds return into their circles and keep returning. Here the grand life-empire of mind, society, truth, liberty, and holy government spreads itself in the view, unfolding always in changes vast, various, and divinely beneficent. There we have a Georgic, or a hymni of the seasons; here an epic that sings a lost Paradise. There God made the wheels of his chariot and set them rolling. Here he rides forth in it, leading his host after Him; vast in counsel, wonderful in working; preparing and marshaling all for a victory in good and blessing; fashioning in beauty, composing in spiritual order, and so gathering in the immense populations of the worlds, to be one realmh-angels, archangels, seraphim, thrones, dominions, principalities, powers, and saints of mankind-all to find, in his works of guidance and new-creating grace(, a volume of wisdom, which it will be the riches of their eternity to study. Thus we conceive, alas! too feebly, the true scale of dignity in God's two realms. In one the order is superficial and palpable. In the other it is deep as eternity, mysterious and vast as the counsel that comprehends eternity, in its developiment. Still it is counsel, it is order, it is truth 274 I i -I I i i ARE NOT THOSE OF SCIENCE. and reason. Even as the Revelation of John contrives, in so many ways, to intimate, by thie using of exact numbers for those which are not; ill the seven angels, and seven trumpets, and seven vials; in the four beasts, and four and twenty ehlers; in the hundred, forty, and four thousand of them that are sealed; in the city, the ncw Jerusalem, that is foursquare, having its hight, length, and breadth equal; with twelve gates, tended by twelve angels, resting on twelve foundations, that are twelve manner of precious stones-by such images, and under such exact notations of arithmetic, does this man of vision put us on conceiving, as we best canll, the glorious and exact society God is reconstructing out of the fallen powers. We shall see it to be all in law; settled in such terms of order, that all counsel, act, and joy, both his and ours, will be in terms of everlasting truth and reason, a realm as much more wonderftul than nature, as liberties of mind are more diffi. cult to master than material quantities. 275 u CHAPTER X. THE CHARACTER OF JESUS FORBIDS HIS POSSIBLE CLASSIFICATION WITH MEN. THE need of a supernatural, divine ministration, to restore the disorders of sin, is now shown; also that such a ministration is compatible with the order of nature, and, being in that view a rational possibility, that it may well be assumed as a probable expectation. In this manner we are brought directly up to confront the main questionIs the exigency met by the fact? is the supernatural divine ministration actually set up, and shown to be by adequate evidence? Hiere we raise a question, for the first time, that puts the christian scriptures in issue; for it is the grand peculiarity of these sacred writings, that they deal in supernatural events and transactions, and show the fact of a celestial institution finally erected on earth, in the person of Jesus Christ, which is called the kingdom of God or of heaven, and is in fact a perpetual, supernatural dispensatory of healing and salvation for the race. Christianity is, in this view, no mere scheme of doctrine, or of ethical practice, but is instead a kind of miracle, a power out of nature and above, descending into it; a historically supernatural movement on the world, that is visibly entered into it, and organized to be an institution in the person of Jesus Christ. iHe therefore is the central figure and power, and with him the entire fabric either stands or falls. To this central figutre, then, we now turn ourselves; i I I i I THE GOSPEL HISTORY, HOW USED. 277 and, as no proof beside the light is necessary to show tha. the sun shines, so we shall find that Jesus proves himself by his own self-evidence. The simple inspection of his life and character will suffice to show that he can not be classified with mankind, (man though he be,) any more than what we call his miracles can be classified with mere natural events. The simple demonstrations of his life and spirit are the sufficient attestation of his own profession, when he says-" I am from above"-" I came down from heaven." Let us not be misunderstood. We do not assume the truth of the narrative by which the manner and facts of the life of Jesus are reported to us; for this, by the supposition, is the matter in question. We only assume the representations themselves, as being just what they are, and discover their necessary truth in the transcendent, wondrously self-evident picture of divine excellence and beauty presented in them. We take up the account of Christ, in the New Testament, just as we would any other ancient writing, or as if it were a manuscript just brought to lght in some ancient library. We open the book, and discover in it four distinct biographies of a certain remarkable character, called Jesus Christ. Hie is miraculously born of Mtary, a virgin of Galilee, and declares, himself, without scruple, that he came out from God. Finding the supposed history made up, in great part, of his mighty acts, and not being disposed to believe in miracles and mnarvels, we should soon dismiss the book as a tissue of absurdities too extravagant for belief were we not struck with the sense of something very peculiar in the character of this remarkable person. Having our attention arrested thus by the impression made on our respect, we are pul 24 0 THE LIFE OF JESUS BEGINS on inquiry, and the more we study it the more wonder. ful, as a character, it appears. And before we have done, it becomes, in fact, the chief wonder of the story; lifting all the other wondclers into order and intelligent proportion round it, and making one compact and glorious wonder of the whole picture-a picture shining in its own clear sunlight upon us, as the truest of all truths-Jesus, the Divine WAVord, coming out from God, to be incarnate with us, and be the vehicle of God and salvation to the race. On the single question, therefore, of the more than human character of Jesus, we propose, in perfect confidence, to rest a principal argument for Christianity as a supernatural institution; for, if there be in Jesus a character which is not human, then has something broken into the world that is not of it, and the spell of unbelief is broken. Not that Christianity might not be a supernatural institution, if Jesus were only a man; for many prophets and holy men, as we believe, have brought forth to the world communications that are not from themselves, but were received by inspirations from God. There are several grades, too, of the supernatural, as already intimated; the supernatural human, the supernatural prophetic, the supernatural demonic and angelic, the supernatural divine. Christ, we shall see, is the supernatural manifested in the highest grade or order; viz., the divine. WAVe observe, then, as a fist peculiarity at the root of his character, that he begins life with a perfect youth. His childhood is.an unspotted, and, withal, a kind of ce. lestial flower. The notion of a superhuman or celestial childhood, the most difficult of all things to be conceived, 278 i I i II i I WITII A PERFECT CHILDIIOOD. is yet successfully drawn by a few simple touches. lIe is announced beforehand as "that Holy ThIing;" a beautiful and powerful stroke to raise our expectation to the level of a nature so mysterious. In his childhood, every l)ody loves him. Using words of external description, lhe is shown growing up in favor with God and man, a child so lovely and beautiful that heaven and earth appear to smile upon him together. So, when it is added that the child grew and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom, and, more than all, that the grace or beautifying power of God was upon him, we look, as on the unfolding of a sacred flower, and seem to scent a fragrance wafted on us from other worlds. Then, at the age of twelve, he is found among the great learned men of the day, the doctors of the temple, hearing what they say and asking them questions. And this, without any word that indi cates forwardness or pertness in the child's manner, sue. as some Christian Rabbi, or silly and credulous devotee, would certainly have added. The doctors are not offended, as by a child too forward or wanting in modesty, they are ony amazed that such a degree of understanding can dwell in one so young and simple. HIis mother finds him there among them, and begins to expostulate with him. His reply is very strange; it must, she is sure, have some deep meaning, that corresponds with his mysterious birth, and the sense he has ever given her of a something strangely peculiar in his ways; and sie goes home keeping his sayinrg in her heart, and guessing vainly what his thought may be. Mysterious, holy secret, which this mother hides in her bosom, that her holy thing, her child whom she has watched, during the twelve years of his celestial childhood, now begins to s)peak of being "about 279 HIS PERFECT CHILDHOOD his Father's business," in words of darkl enigma, which she can not fathom. Now we do not say, observe, that there is one word of truth in these touches of narration. WAVe only say that, whether they be fact or fiction, here is given the sketch of a perfect and sacred childhood —not of a simple, lovely, ingenuous, and properly humnan childhood, such as the poets love to sketch-but of a sacred and celestial child hood. In this respect, the early character of Jesus is a picture that stands by itself. In no other case, that we remember, has it ever entered the mind of a biographer, in drawing a character, to represent it as beginning with a spotless childhood. The childhood of the great human characters, if given at all, is commonly represented, according to the uniform truth, as being more or less contrary to the manner of their mature age; and never as being strictly one with it, except in those cases of inferior eminence where the kind of distinction attained to is that of some mere prodigy, and not a character of greatness in action, or of moral excellence. In all the higher ranges of character, the excellence portrayed is never the simple unfolding of a harmonious and perfect beauty contained in the germ of childhood, but it is a character formed by a process of rectification, in which many follies are mended and distempers removed; in which confidence is checked by defeat, passion moderated by reason, smartness sobered by experience. Commonly a certain pleasure is taken in showing how the many wayward sallies of the boy are, at length, reduced by discipline to the character of wisdom, justice, and public heroism so much admired. Besides, if any writer, of almost any age, will under 280 II I t t GENUINELY DESCRIBED. take to describe, not merely a spotless, but a superhuman or celestial childhood, not having the reality before him, he must be somewhat more than human himself, if he does not pile together a mass of clumsy exaggerations, and draw and overdraw, till neither heaven nor earth can find any verisimilitude in the picture. Neither let us omit to notice what ideas the Rabbis and learned doctors of this age were able, in fact, to furnish, when setting forth a remarkable childhood. Thus Jose phus, drawing on the teachings of the Rabbis, tells how the infant Moses, when the king of Egypt took him out of his daughter's arms, and playfully put the diadem on his head, threw it pettishly down and stamped on it. And when Moses was three years old, he tells us that the child had grown so tall, and exhibited such a wonderful beauty of countenance, that people were obliged, as it were, to stop and look at him as he was carried along the road, and were held fast by the wonder, gazing till he was out of sight. See, too, what work is made of the childhlood of Jesus himself, in the Apocryphal gospels. These are written by men of so nearly the same era, that we may discover, in their embellishments, what kind of a childhood it was in the mere invention of the time to make out. While the gospels explicitly say that Jesus wrought no miracles till his public ministry began, and that he made his beginning, in the mniracle of Cana, these are ambitious to make him a great prodigy in his childhood. They tell how, on one occasion, he pursued, in his anger, the other children, who refused to play with him, and turned them into kids; how, on another, when a child accidentally ran against him, he was angry, and killed him by his mere word; how, on another, Jesus had 24* 281 DISTINGUISHED FROM MEN a dispute with his teacher over the alphabet, and when the teacher struck himi, how he crushed him, withered his arm, and threw him down dead. Finally, Joseph tells Miary that they must keep him within doors; for every body perishes against whom he is excited. Iis mother sends him to the well for water, and, having broken his pitcher, he brings the water in his cloak. le goes into a dyer's shop, when the dyer is out, and throws all the cloths he finds into a vat of one color, but, when they are taken out, behold, they are all dyed of the precise color that was ordered. IIe commands a palm-tree to stoop down and let him pluck the fruit, and it obeys. WThen he is carried down into Egypt, all the idols fall down wherever he passes, and the lions and leopards gather round him in a harmless company. This the Gospel of the Infancy gives, as a picture of the wonderful childhood of Jesus. How unlike that holy flower of paradise, in the true gospels, which a few simple touches make to bloom in beautiful self-evidence before us! Passing now to the character of Jesus in his maturity, we discover, at once, that there is an element in it which distinguishes it from all human characters, viz., innocence. By this we mean, not that he is actually sinless; that will be denied, and therefore must not here be assumed. We mean that, viewed externally, he is a perfectly harmlkxq being, actuated by no destructive passions, gentle to inferiors, doing ill or ilnjury to none. The figure of a Lamb, which never was, or could be, applied to any of the great human characters, without an implication of weakness fatal to all respect, is yet, with no such effect, applied to him. We associate weakness with innocence, ad the 282 i, 0 BY HIS INNOCENCE. association is so powerful, that no human writer would undertake to sketch a great character on the basis of inno cence, or would even think it possible. We predicate innocence of infancy, but to be a perfectly harmless, guileless man, never doing, ill even for a moment, we consider to be the same as to be a man destitute of spirit and manly force. But Christ accomplished the impossible. Appearing in all the grandeur and majesty of a superhuman manhood, he is able still to unite the impression of innocence, with no apparent diminution of his sublimity. It is, in fact, the distinctive glory of his character, that it seems to be the natural unfolding of a divine innocence a pure celestial childhood, amplified by growth. We feel the power of this strange combination, but we have so great difficulty in conceiving it, or holding our minds to the conception, that we sometimes subside or descend to the human level, and empty the character of Jesus of the strange element unawares. AVe read, for example, his terrible denunciations against the Pharisees, and are shocked by the violent, fierce sound they have on our mortal lips; not perceiving that the offense is in us, and not in him. We should suffer no such revulsion, did we only conceive them bursting out, as words of indignant grief, froim the surcharged bosom of innocence; for there is niothing so bitter as the offense that innocence feels, when stung by hypocrisy and a sense of cruelty to the poor. So, when he drives the money-changers from the temple, we are likely to leave out the only element that saves him from a look of violence and passion. Whereas it is the very point of the story, not that he, as by mere force, can drive so many men, but that so many are seen retiring before the moral power of one-a mysteTious 283 HIS RELIGIOUS CHARACIER being, in whose face and formn the indi,gnant flush of innocence reveals a tremendous feeling, they can no wise comprehend, much less are able to resist. Accustomed to no such demonstrations of vigor and decision in the innocent human characters, and having it as our way to set them down, without farther consideration, as "Incapable and shallow innocents,"we turn the indignant fire of Jesus into a fire of malignity; whereas it should rather be conceived that Jesus here reveals his divinity, by what so powerfully distinguishes God himself, when lie clothes his goodness in the tempests and thunders of nature. Decisive, great, and strong, Christ is yet all this, even the more sublimely, that he is invested, withal, in the lovely, but humanly feeble garb of innocence. And that this is the true conception, is clear, in the fact that no one ever thinks of him as weak, and no one fails to be somehow impressed with a sense of innocence by his life; when his enemies are called to show what evil or harm he hath dclone, they can specify nothing, save that he has offended their bigotry. Even Pilate, when he gives him up, confesses that he finds nothing in him to blame, and, shuddering with apprehensions he can not subdue, washes his hands to be clear of the innocent blood! Thus he dies, a being holy, harmless, undefiled. And when he hangs, a bruised flower drooping on his cross, and the sun above is dark, and the earth beneath shudders with pain, what have we in this funeral grief of the worlds, but a fit honor paid to the sad majesty of his divine innocence. We pass now to his religious character, which, me shall 284 I I I f 11 IS WITHOUT REPENTANCE. discover, has the remarkable distinction that it proceeds from a point exactly opposite to tat which is the root, or radical element in the religious character of men. Human piety begins with repentance. It is the effort of a being, implicated in wrong and writhing under the stings of guilt, to come unto God. The most righteous, or even self-righteous, men blend expressions of sorrow and vows of new obedience with their exercises. But Christ, in the character given him, never acknowledges sin. It is the grand peculiarity of his piety, that he never regrets any thing that hlie has done or been; expresses, nowhere, a single feeling of compunction, or the least sense of unworthiness. On the contrary, he boldly challenges his accusers, in the question-Wvhich of you convinceth me of sin? and even declares, at the close of his life, in a solemn appeal to God, that he has given to men, unsullied, the glory divine that was deposited in him. Now the question is not whether Christ was, in fact, the faultless being, assumed, in his religious character. All we have to notice here is that he makes the assumption, ma,kCes it not only in words, but in the very tenor of his exercises themselves, and that by this fact his piety is radically distinguished from all human piety. And no mere human creature, it is certain, could hold such a religious attitude, without shortly displaying faults that would cover him with derision, or excesses and delinquencies that would even disgust his friends. Piety without one dash of repentance, one ingenuous confession of wrong, one tear, one look of contrition, one request to heaven for pardon-let any one of mankind try this kind of piety, and see how long it will be ere his righteousness will prove itself to be the most impudent conceit! how 285 iHE UNITES OP'POSITES, long before his passions, sobered by no contrition, his pride kept down by no repentance, will tempt him into absurdities that will turn his pretenses to mockery I No sooner does any one of us begin to be self-ri,ghteous, than he begins to fall into outward sins that shame his conceit. But, in the case of Jesus, no such disaster follows. Beginning with an impenitent, or unrepentant piety, he holds it to the end, and brings no visible stain upon it. Now, one of two things must be true. Hie was either sinless, or he was not. If sinless, what greater, more palpable exception to the law of human development, than that a perfect and stainless being has for once lived in the flesh! If not, which is the supposition required of those who deny every thing above the range of human development, then we have a man taking up a religion without repentance, a religion not human, but celestial, a style of piety never taught him in his childhood, and never conceived or attempted among men-more than this, a style of piety, withal, wholly unsuited to his real chlaracter as a sinner, holding it as a figment of insufferable presumption to the end of life, and that in a way of such unfaltering grace and beauty, as to command the universal homage of the human race! Could there be a wider deviation from all we know of mere human development? He was also able perfectly to unite elements of character, that others find the greatest difficulty in uniting, however unevenly and partially. He is never said to have smiled, and yet he never produces the impression of austerity, moroseness, sadness, or even of being unhappy. On the contrary, he is described as one that appears to be commonly filled with a sacred joy; "rejoicing in spirit,'! 286 I tI tI AS NO HUMAN SAINT EVER DOES. and leaving to his disciples, in the hour of his depar'ture, the bequest of his joy-" that they might have my joy fulfilled in themselves." WNe could not long endure a human being whose facee was never moved by laughter, or relaxed by a gladdening smile. WAhat sympathy could we have with one who appears, in this manner, to have no human heart? WAVe could not even trust him. Aind yet we have sympathy with Christ; for there is somewhere in him an ocean of deep joy, and we see that he is, in fact, only burdened with his sympathy for us to such a degree, that his mighty life is overcast and oppressed by the charge he has undertaken. Ihis lot is the lot of privation, he has no powerful friends, he has not even where to lay his head. No human being could appear in such a guise, without occupying us much withl the sense of his affliction. WAVe should be descending to him, as it were, in pity. But we never pity Christ, never think of him as struggling with the disadvantages of a lower level, to rise above it. In facet, he does not allow us, after all, to think much of his privations. We think of him more as a being of mighty resources, proving h1imself, only the more sublimely, that he is in the guise of destitution. IHe is the most unworldly of beings, having no desire at all for what the earth can give, impossible to be caught with any longing for its benefits, impassible even to its charms, and yet there is no ascetic sourness or repugnance, no misanthropic distaste in his mannier; as if he were bracing himself against the world to keep it off. The more closely he is drawn to other worlds, the more fresh and susceptible is he to the humanities of this. The little child is an image of gladness, which his heart leaps fort.h t~ embrace. The wedding and the feast and the funiera 287 288 HIS ASTONISHING PRETENSIONS have all their cord of sympathy in his bosom. At the wedding he is clothed in congratulation, at the feast in doctrine, at the funeral in tears; but no miser was ever drawn to his money, with a stronger desire than he to worlds above the world. Men undertake to be spiritual, and they become ascetic; or, endeavoring to hold a liberal view of the comforts and pleasures of society, they are soon buried in the world, and slaves to its fashions; or, holding a scrupulous watch to keep out every particular sin, they become legal, and fall out of liberty; or, charmed with the noble and heavenly liberty, they run to negligence and irresponsible living; so the earnest become violent, the fervent fanatical and censorious, the gentle waver, the firm turn bigots, the liberal grow lax, the benevolent ostentatious. Poor human infirmity can hold nothing steady. AVhere the pivot of righteousness is broken, the scales must needs slide off their balance. Indeed, it is one of the most difficult things which a cultivatecld christian can attempt, only to skletcl a theoretic view of character, iul its true justness and proportion, so that a little more study, or a little more self-experience, will not require him to modify it. And yet the character of Christ is never modified, even by a shade of rectification. It is one and the same throughout. lie makes no improvements, prunes no extravagances, returns from no eccentricities. The balance of his character is never disturbed, or readjusted, and the astounding assumption on which it is based is never shaken, even by a suspicion that he falters in it. There is yet another point related to this, in which the attitude of Jesus is even more distinct from any that was I 1, ARE FULLY SUPPORTED. ever taken by man, and is yet triumphantly sustained. I speak of the astonishing pretensions asserted concerning his person. Similar pretensions have sometimes been as sumed by maniacs, or insane persons, but never, so far as I know, by persons in the proper exercise of their reason. Certain it is that no mere man could take the same atti tude of supremacy toward the race, and inherent affinity or oneness with God, without fatally shocking the confidence of the world by his effrontery. Imagine a human crea ture saying to the world-" I came forth from the Father" -" ye are from beneath, I am from above;" ficing, all the intelligence and even the philosophy of the world, and saying, in bold assurance-" behold, a greater than Solo mon is here"-" I am the light of the world"-" the way, the truth, and the life;" publishing to all peoples and religions-" Ao man cometh to the Father, but by me;" promising openly in his death-"I will draw all men unto me;" addressing the Infinite Majesty, and testifying -"I have glorified thee on the earth;" calling to the human race-" Come unto me," "follow me;" laying his hlanq upon all the dearest and most intimate affections of life, and demanding a precedent love- "he that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me." WAVas there ever displayed an example of effrontery and spiritual conceit so preposterous? WAVas there ever a manl that dared put himself on the world in such pretensions? -as if all light wvas in him, as if to follow him and be worthy of him was to be the conclusive or chief excellence of mankind! WVhat but mockery and disgust does he challenge as the certain retard of his audacity! But no one is offended with Jesus on this account, and what is a sure test of his success, it is remarkable that, of all 25 289 290 HIS ASTONISHING PRETENSIONS the readers of the gospel, it probably never even occurs to one in a hundred thousand, to blame his conceit, or the egregious vanity of his pretensions. Nor is there any thing disputable in these pretensions, least of all, any trace of myth or fabulous tradition. They enter into the very web of his ministry, so that if they are extracted and nothing left transcending mere humanity, nothing at all is left. Indeed there is a tacit assunption, continually maintained, that far exceeds the range of these formal pretensions. IIe says-"I and the Father that sent me." What figure would a man present in such languagec-I and the Father? He goes even beyond this, and apparently without any thought of excess or presumption, classing himself with the infinite Majesty in a common plural, he says-" 1We will come unto him, and make our abode with him." Imagine any, the greatest and holiest of mankind, any prophet, or apostle, saying we, of himself and the Great Jehovah! What a conception did he give us concerning himself, when he assumed the necessity of such information as this-"my Father is greater than I;" and above all, when he-calls himself, as he often does, in a tone of condescension-"the Son of Man." See him also on the top of Olivet, lookling down on the guilty city and weeping words of compassion like these-imagine some man weeping over London or New York, in the like-" How often would I have gathered thy children together as a hen doth gather her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!" See him also in the supper, instituting a rite of remembrance for himself, a scorned, outcast mani, and saying-" this is my body " — "this do in remembrance of me." I have dwelt thus on the transcendent pretensions of i tI ARE 1ULLY SUPPORiTED. Jesus, b)ecac,se there is an argument here for his superhu manity, vlich can not be resistec. For eighteen hundred years, these prodigious assumptions have been published and preached to a, world that is quickl to lay hold of con ceit, an(i brinig dclown the lofty a-irs of pretenders, and yet, during all this timre, whole nations of people, comiposing as well the learned and powerful as the ignorant and hum ble, have paid their homage to the'name of Jesus, detect ing never any disagreement between his nmeits and his pretensions, offended never by any thloughlt of his extrav agance. In which we have absolute proof that lie practi cally maiiiftliis his amazing assumptions! Indeed it will even be f(,ound that, in the common apprehension of the race, hle maintains the merit of a most peculiar modesty, producing n.o conviction more distinctly, than that of his intense low-liness and humilitv. His worth is seen to be so great, lhis autlioriity so high, his spirit so celestial, that instead of bcingii offended by his pretensions, we takle the impressioln, of one in wthom it is even a condescension to 'jreathe our air. I say not that his friends and followers take this impression, it is received as naturally and irresistibly by) unbelievers. I do not recollect any skeptic, or infidel whlo has even thoughlt to accuse him as a conceited person, or to assault him in this, the wealkest and absurdest, if not the strongest and holiest, point of his character. Come now, all ye that tell us in your wisdom of the mere natural humanity of Jesus, and help us to find how it is, that he is only a natural development of the human; select your best and wisest character; take the range, if you will, of all the great philosophers and saints, and choose out one that is most competent; or if, perchance, some one of yout may imagine that he is himself abolit 291 HE EXCELS IN THE PASSINVE, upon a level with Jesus, (as we hear that sonme of you do,) let him come forward in this trial and say-" follow me""be worthy of me"-"I am the light of the world "-"ye are from beneath, I am from above "-" behold a greater than Solomon is here;" take on all these transcendent assumptions, and see how soon your glory will be sifted out of you by the detective gaze, and darkened by the contempt of mankind! Why not; is not the challenge fair? Do you not tell us that you can say as divine things as he? Is it not in you too, of course, to do what is human? are you not in the front rank of human developments? do you not rejoice in the power to rectify many mistakes and errors in the words of Jesus? Give us then this one experiment, and see if it does not prove to you a truth that is of some consequence; viz., that you are a man, and that Jesus Cbrist is-more. But there is also a passive side to the character of Jesus, which is equally peculiar and which also demands our attention. I recollect no really great character in history. excepting such as may have been formed under Christianity, that can properly be said to have united the passive virtues, or to have considered them any essential part of a finished character. Socrates comes the nearest to such an impression, and therefore most resembles Christ in the submissiveness of his death. It does not appear, however, that his mind had taken this turn previously to his trial, and the submission he makes to the public sentence is, in fact. a refusal only to escape from the prison surreptitiously; -Thich he does, partly because he thinks it the duty of every good citizen not to break the laws, and partly, if we judge from his manner, because he is 292 AS IN THlE ACTIVE VIRTUES. detained by a subtle pride, as if it were something unwor thy of a grave philosopher, to be stealing away, as a fugi tive, from the laws and tribunals of his country. The Stoics indeed have it for one of their great principles, that the true wisdom of life consists in a passive power, viz., in being able to bear suffering rightly. But they mean by this the bearing of suffering so as not to feel it; a steeling of the mind against sensibility, and a raising of the will int, such power as to drive back the pangs of life, or shake them off. But this, in fact, contains no allowance of passive virtue at all; on the contrary, it is an attempt so to exalt the active powers, as to even exclude every sort of passion, or passivity. And Stoicism corresponds, in this respect, with the general sentiment of the world's great characters. They are such as like to see things in the heroic vein, to see spirit and courage breasting themselves against wrong, and, where the evil can not be escaped by resistance, dying in a manner of defiance. Indeed it has been the impression of the world generally, that patience, gentleness, readiness to suffer wrong without resistance, is but'another name for weakness. But Christ, in opposition to all such impressions, manages to connect these non-resisting and gentle passivities witl a character of the severest grandeur and majesty; and, what is more, convinces us that no truly great character can exist without them. Observe him, first, in what may be called the common trials of existence. For if you will put a character to the severest of all tests, see whether it can bear, without faltering, the little, common ills and hindrances of life. MIany a man will go to his martyrdom, with a spirit of (irniness and heroic composure, whom a little weariness or 2'25 * 293 HE IS NEVER DISCOMPOSED) nervous exhaustion, some silly prejudice, or capricious opposition, would, for'he moment, throw into a fit of vexation, or ill-nature. Great occasions rally great principles, and brace the mind to a lofty bearing, a bearing that is even above itself. But trials that make no occasion at all, leave it to show the goodness and beauty it has in its own disposition. And here precisely is the superhuman glory of Christ as a character, that he is just as perfect, exhibits just as great a spirit, in little trials as in great ones. In all the history of his life, we are not able to detect the faintest indication that he slips or ftlters. And this is the more remarkable, that he is prosecuting so great a work, with so great enthusiasm; counting it his meat and drink, and pouring into it all the energies of his life. For when men have great works on hand, their very enthusiasm runs to imnpatience. NWhen thwarted or unreasonably hindered, their soul strikes fire against the obstacles they meet, they worry themselves at every hindrance, every disappointment, and break out in stormy and fanatical violence. But Jesus, for some reason, is just as even, just as serene, in all his petty vexations, and hindrances, as if he had nothing on hand to do. A kind of sacred patience invests him every where. Having no element of crude will mixed with his work, he is able, in all trial and opposition, to hold a condition of serenity above the clouds, and let them sail under him, without ever obscuring the sun. Ile is poor, and hungry, and weary, and despised, insulted by his enemies, deserted by his friends, but never disheartened, never fretted or ruffled. You see, meantime, that he is no stqic; he visibly feels every such ill as his delicate and sensitive nature must, but he has some sacred and sovereign good present, to mingle with his pains, ji 294 BY HINDRANCES AND TRIALS. which, as it were naturally and without any self-watching, allays them. ie does not seem to rule his temper, but rather to have none; for temper, in the sense of passion, is a fuiry that follows the will, as the lighltnings follow the d(listurbing forces of the winds among the clouds, and ac cordingly where there is no self-will to roll Lp the clouds and hurl them through the sky, the lightning,s hold their equilibrium and are as though they were not. As regards what is called pre-eminently his passion, the scene of martyrdom that closes his life, it is easy to distinguishl a character in it which separates it from all mere human martyrdoms. Thus, it will be observed, that his :agony, the scene in which his suffering is bitterest and most evident, is, on human principles, wholly misplaced. It comes before the time, when as yet there is no arrest, and no human prospect that there will be any. Ile is at large to go where he pleases, and in perfect outward safety. His disciples have just been gathered round him in a scene of more than family tenderness and affection. Indeed it is but a very few hours since that he was coming into the city, at We head of a vast procession, followed by loud acclamations, and attended by such honors as may fitly celebrate the inaugural of a king. Yet here, with no bad sign apparent, we sie him plunged into a scene of deepest distress, and racked, in his feeling, with a more than mortal agony. Coming out of this, assured and comforted, he is shortly arrested, broughlt to trial, and crucified; where, if there be any thing questionable in his manner, it is in the fact that he is even more composed than some would have him to be, not even stooping to defend himself or vindicate his innocenece. And when he dies, it is not as when the mar. tyrs die. They die for what they have sa(l, and remain 295 HIS AGONY NOT HUMAN. ing silent will not recant. He dies for what he has not said, and still is silent. By the misplacing of his agony thus, and the strange silence hlie observes when the real hour of agony is come, we art put entirely at fault on natural p)rinciples. But it was not for him to wait, as being only at man, till he is arrested and the hand of death is before him, then to be nerved by the occasion to a show of victory. ile that was before Abraham, must also be before his occasions. In a time of safety, in a cool hour of retirement, unaccountably to his friends, he falls into a dreadful contest and struggle of mind; coming out of it, finally, to go through his most horrible tragedy of crucifixion, with the serenity of a spectator! Why now this so great intensity of sorrow? why this agony? Was there not somethiing unmanly in it, something unworthy of a really great soul? Take him to be only a manl, and there probably was; nay, if he were a woman, the same might be said. But this one thing is clear, that no one of mankind, whether man or woman, ever had the sensibility to suffer so intensely; even showing the body, for the mere struggle and pain of the mind, exuding and dripping with blood. Evidently there is something mysterious here; which mystery is vehicle to our feeling, and rightfully may be, of something divine. What, we begin to ask, should be the power of a superhuman sensibility? and how far should the human vehicle shake under such a power? Hlow too should an innocent and pure spirit be exercised, when about to suffer. in his own person, the greatest wrong ever committed? Besides there is a vicarious spirit in love; all love in serts itself vicariously into the sufferings and woes and, iil IL 296 I I I HIS PASS1ON A MYSTERY. certain sense, the sins of others, taking them on itself as a burden. IIow then, if perchanice Jesus should be divine, an embodiment of God's love in the wvora-how should he feel, and by what signs of feeling manifest his sensibility, when a fallen race are just about to do the damning sin that crowns their guilty history; to crucify the only perfect being that ever came into the world; to crucify eveni him, the messenger and representative to them of the love of God, the deliverer who has taken their case and cause upon him! Whosoever duly ponders these questions, will find that he is lect away, more and more, from any supposition of the mere mortality of Jesus. What he looks upon, he will more and more distinctly see to be the pathology of a superhuman anguish. It stands, he will perceive, in no mortal key. It will be to him the anguish, visibly, not of any pusillanimous feeling, but of holy character itself; nay, of a mysteriously transcendent. or somehow divine, character. But why did he not defend his cause and justify his in nocence in the trial? Partly because hle had the wisdom to see that there really was and could be no trial, and that one who undertakes to plead with a mob, only mocks his own virtue, throwing words into the air that is already filled with the clamors of prejudice. To plead innocence in such a case, is only to make a protestation, such as indicates fear, and is really unworthy of a great and composed spirit. A man would have done it, but Jesis did not. Besides, there was a plea of innocence, in the manner of Jesus and the few very significant words that he dropped, that had an effect on the mird of Pilate, more searching and powerful than any formal protestations. And the more we study the conduct of Jesus during the whoe 297 HIS UNDERTAKIN'G scene, the more shall we be satisfied that he said enoagli; the more admire the niysterious composure, the wisdom, the self possession, and the superhuman patience of the sufferer. It was visibly the death scene of a transcendent love. He dies not as a man, but rather as some one might, who is mysteriously more and higher. So thought aloud the hard-faced soldier-" Truly this was the Son of God." As if he had said-" I have seen nien die —this is not a man. They call him Son of God —-he canll not be less." Cant he be less to us? But Christ shows himself to be a superhuman character, not in the personal traits only, exhibited in his life, but even more sublimely in the undertakings, works, and teachings by which he proved his Messialislhip. Consider then the reach of his undertaking; which, if he was only a man, shows him to have been the most extravagant and even wildest of all human enthusiasts. Con — trary to every religious prejudice of his nation and even of his time, contrary to the comparatively narrow and exclusive religion of Moses itself and to all his training under it, he undertakes to organize a kingdom (of God, or kingdom of heaven on earth. His purpose includes a new moral creation of the race —not of the Jews only and of men, proselyted to their covenant, but of the whole human race. Ile declared thus, at an early date in his ministry, that many shall come from the east and the west and sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of God; that the field is the world; and that God so loves the world, as to give for it his only begotten Son. He also declared that his gospel shall be published to all nations, and gave his apostles their commission, to 21,)8 iI II II i iI t IS NOT HUMAN. go into all the world and publish his gospel to every creature. Herc then we have the grand idea of his mission-it is to new-create the human race and restore it to God, in the unity of a spiritual kingdom. And upon this single fact, Reinhard erects a complete argument for his extra-human character; going into a formal review of all the great founders of states and most celebrated lawgivers, the great heroes and defenders of nations, all the wise kings and statesmen, all the philosophers, all the prophet founders of religions, and discovering as a fact that no such thought as this, or nearly proximate to this, had ever before been takeni up by any living character in history; showing also how it had happened to every other great character, however liberalized by culture, to be limited in some way to the interest of his own people, or empire, and set in opposition, or antagonism, more or less decidedly, to the rest of the world. But to Jesus alone, the simple Galilean carpenter, it happens otherwise; that, having never seen a map of the world in his whole life, or heard the name of half the great nations on it, he undertakes, coming out of his shop, a scheme as much vaster and more difficult than that of Alexander, as it proposes more and what is more divinely benevolent! This thought of a universal kingdom, cemented in God-why, the immense Roman Empire of his day, constructed by so many ages of war and conquest, is a bauble in comparison, both as regards the extent and the cost! And yet the rustic tradesman of Galilee propounds even this for his errand, and that in a way of assurance, as simple ~nd quiet, as if the immense reach of his plan were, in fact, a matter to him of no consideration. 299 BUT ItIS CONFIDENCE Nor is this all, tlhere is included in his plan, what, to any mere mall, would be yet more remote from the possible confidence of his frailty; it is a plan as universal in time, as it is in the scope of its objects. It does not expect to be realized in a life-time, or even in many centuries to come. He calls it, understandingly, his grain of mustard seed; which, however, is to grow, he declares, and overshadow the whole earth. But the courage of Jesus, counting a thousand years to be only a single day, is equal to the run of his work. He sees a rock of stability, where men see only frailty and weakness. Peter himself, the impulsive and always unreliable Peter, turns into rock and becomes a great foundation, as he looks upon him. "On this rock," he says, "I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." His expectation too reaches boldly out beyond his own death; that in fact is to be the seed of his great empire-" except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth," he says, "alone." And if we will see with what confidence and courage he adheres to his plan, when the time of his death approaches-how far he is from giving it up as lost, or as an exploded vision of his youthful enthusiasm-we have only to observe his last interview with the two sisters of Bethany, in whose hospitality he was so often comforted. When the box of precious ointment is broken upon his head, which Judas reproves as a useless expense, he dis. covers a sad propriety, or even prophecy, in what the woman has done, as connected with his death, now at hand. But it does not touch his courage, we perceive, or the confdence of his plan, or even cast a shade on his prospect. "Let her alone. She hath done what she could. She is come aforehand to anoint my body to k I~ 300 NEVER FALTERS. the burying. Verily I say unto you, wheresoever this gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world, this also that this woman hath done shall be told for a memorial of her." Such was the sublime confidence he had in a plan that was to run through all future ages, and would scarcely begin to show its fruit during his own life time. Is this great idea then, which no man ever before conceived, the raising of the whole human race to God, a plan sustained with such evenness of courage, and a confidence of the world's future so far transcending any human example-is this a human development? Regard the benevolence of it, the universality of it, the religious grandeur of it, as a work readjusting the relations of God and his government with men-the cost, the lenlgth of time it will cover, and the far off date of its conmpletion-is it in this scale that a Nazarene carpenter, a poor uneducated villager, lays out his plans and graduates the confidence of his undertakings? There have been great enthusiasts in the world, and they have shown their infirmity by lunatic airs, appropriate to their extravagance.- But it is not lumnan, we may safely affirm, to lay out projects transcending all human ability, like this of Jesus, and which can not be completed in many thousands of years, doing it in all the airs of sobriety, entering on the performance wvithout parade, and yielding life to it firmly as the inaugural of its triumph. No human creature sits quietly down to a perpetual project, one that proposes to be executed only at the end, or final harvest of the world. That is not human, but divine. Passing now to what is more interior in his ministry, tfken as a revelation of his character, we are strluck with 26 301 HIS EXPECTATION another distinction; viz., that he takes rank with the poor, and grounds all the immense expectations of his cause on a beginning made with the lowly and dejected classes of the world. ie was born to the lot of the poor. His mainners, tastes, and intellectual attainments, however, visiblv outgrew his condition, and that in such a degree that, if hlie had been a mere human character, hie must have suffered some painful distaste for the kind of society in whichl he lived. The great, as we perceive, flocked to hear him, and sometimes came even by nigllht to receive his instructions. lIe saw the highest circles of society and influence open to him, if he onlv desired to enter them. And, if he was a properly lihuman character, wlhat virt.tous, but rising young man would have had a though,t of impropriety, in accepting the elevation within his reach; coinsiderilng it as the proper reward of his industry and the merit of his character-not to speak of tihe contempt for his humble origin, and his humble associates, which every upstart person of only ordinary virtue is so commonly seen to manifest. Still he adheres to the poor, and makes them the object of his ministry. And what is more peculiar, he visibly has a kind of interest in their society, wahich is wanting in that of the higher classes; perceiving, apparently, that they h:Lve a certain aptitude for receiving right impressions, which the others have not. They are not the wise and prudent, filled with the conceit of learning and sta(tion, but they are the ingenuous babes of poverty, open to conviction, prepared, by their humble lot, to receive thoughts and doctrines in advance of their age. Therefore he loves the poor, and, without descending to their low raanners, he delights to be identified with them. I-e is more assiduous in their service than other 302 I I IS IN THE POOR. niea have been ill serving the great. He goes about on foot, teaching them and healing their sick; occupying his great and elevated mind, for whole years, with details of labor and care, which the nurse of no hospital had ever laid upon him-insanities, blind eyes, fevers, fluxes, lepr-osies, and sores. His patients are all below his level and unable to repay him, even by a breath of congeniial sympathy; and nothing supports him T)ut the consciousness of good which attends his labors. Meantime, consider what contempt for the poor had hitherto prevailed, among all the great statesmen and philanthropists of the world. The poor were not society, or any part of society. They were only the conveniences and drudges of society; appendages of luxury and state, tools of ambition, material to be used in the wars.:No man who had taken up the idea of some great clhange or reform in society, no philosopher who had conceived the notion of building up an ideal state or republic, ever thought of beginning with the poor. IJfluence was seen to reside in the hi,gher classes, and the only hope of reaching tlhe world, by any scheme of social regeneration, was to begin with them, and through them operate its results. But Christ, if we call him a philosopher, and, if he is only a man, we can call him by no higher name, was the poor man's philosopher; the first and only one that had ever appeared. Seeing the higher circles open to him, aind tempted to imagine that, if he could once get footing for his doctrine among the influential and the great, hle shouilcL thus secure his triumph more easily, hie had yet no such thought. H-e laid his foundations, as it were, below all influence, and, as men would judge, threw himself away. And preciselv here did he display a wisdom and a charac 303 HE BECOMES THEIR PATRON, ter totally in advance of his age. Eighteen centuries have passed away, and we.now seem just beginning to understand the transcendent depth of this feature in his mission and his character. We appear to be just waking up to it as a discovery, that the blessing and upraising of the masses are the fundamental interest of society-a discovery, however, which is only a proof that the life of Jesus ha at length, begun to penetrate society and public history. It is precisely this which is working so many and great changes in our times, giving liberty and right to the enslaved many, seeking their education, encouraging their efforts by new and better hopes, producing an aversion to war, which has been the fatal source of their misery and depression, and opening, as we hope, a new era of comfort, light, and virtue in the world. It is as if some higher and better thought had visited our race-which higher thought is in the life of Jesus. The schools of all the philosophers are gone, hundreds of years ago, and all their visions have died away into thin air; but the poor man's philosopher still lives, bringing up his poor to liberty, light, and character and drawing the nations on to a brighter and better day. At the same time, the more than human character of Jesus is displayed also in the fact that, identifying himself thus with the poor, he is yet able to do it, without eliciting any feelings of partisanship in them. To one who will be at the pains to reflect a little, nothing will seem more difficult than this; to become the patron of a class, a down-trodden and despised class, without rallying ill them a feeling of intense malignity. And that for tho reason, partly, that no patroln, however just or magnan. 304 iI i BUT ANILL NOT IIAVE THEM. PAR1TISANS. 305 imous, is ever quite able to suppress the feelings of a par tisan in himself. A little amnbitioii, pricked on by a little abuse, a faint desire of popularity playing over the fiace of his benevolence, and tempting him to loosen a little of ill-nature, as tinder to the passions of his sect-something of this kind is sure to kindle some fire of malignity in his clients. Besides, men love to be partisans. Even Paul and AZpollos and P eter h ad their sects, or schools, glorying in one against another. With all their efforts, they could not suppress a weakness so contemptible. But no such fe eling coul d ever g et footing under Christ. If his disci ples had forbidden one to heal in the name of Jesus, be cause he followed not with them, he gently rebuked them, and made them feel that he had larger views than to suffer any such foll y. As the friend of the poor and oppressed clSs s, he set himself openly against their enemies, and chas ti sed them as oppressors, with the most terrible rebukes. li e exposed the absurdity of their doctrine, and silenced them in argument; he launched his thunderbolts against their base hypocrisies; but it does not appear that the popul ace ever testified their pleasure, even by a cheer, or g av e vent t o any angry emotion under cover of his leadershlip. For there w as something still, in the mianner and ai r of Jesus, whic h made them feel it to be inappropriate, and even made it impossible. It was as if some being w e r e here, takin g their part, whom it were even an irreverence to applaud, much more to second by any partisan clamor. TThey would as soon have thloulght of cheering t h e angel i n the sun, or of rallying under him as the head of their faction. On one occasion, when he had fed the multitudes bb a miracle, he saw that their national super 26* THE PERFECT ORIGINALITY stitions were excited, and that, regarding him as the Messiah predicted in the scriptures, they were about to take him by force and make him their king; but this was a national feeling, not the feeling of a class. Its root was superstition, not hatred. His triumphal entry into Jerusalem, attended by the acclamations of the multitude, if this be not one of the fables or myths, which our modern criticism rejects, is yet no demonstration of popular faction, or party animosity. Robbing it of its mystical and miraculous character, as the inaugural of the Messiah, it has no real signification. In a few hours, after all, these hosannas are hushed. Jesus is alone and forsaken, and the very multitudes he might seem to have enlisted, are crying, "Crucify him!" On the whole, it can not be said that Jesus was ever popular. He was followed, at times, by great multitudes of people, whose love of the marvelous worked on their superstitions, to draw them after him. They came also to be cured of their diseases. Tlhey knew him as their friend. But there was yet something in him that forbade their low and malignant feelings gathering into a conflagration round him. He presents, indeed, an instance that stands alone in history, as God at the summit of the worlds, where a person has identified himself with a class, without creating a faction, and without becoming a popular character. Consider him next as a teacher; his method and manner, and the other characteristics of his excellence, apart from his doctrine. That will be distinctly considered in another place.. First of all, we notice the perfect originality and independence of his teaching. We have a great many men 806 I t OF HIS TEACIIING. who are origiiial, in the sense of being originators, within a cer'tain bouindary of educated tlioulghit. But the originality of Christ is uneducated. That he draws nothing from the stores of learning, can be seen at a glaine. Thle impression we have in readinig his instructions, justifies to the letter, the langutage of his cotenlporaries, when they say, "this man hLath never learned." Thlere is nothing in any of his allusions, or forms of speedi, that indicates learning. In(leed, thlere is nothing in him that belongs to his age or eountry-n lo one opinion, or taste, or prejudice. The attempts that have been made, in a way of establishin lhis mere natural manhood, to showv that he borrowe(l lis sentiments from the Persians anId the eastern forms of reli