]II N T S
FORMATION OF RELIGIOUS OPINIONS.
ADDRESSED EXPECIALLT TO
YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN OP CBllISTIAN EDUCATION.
BY
REV. RAY PALMER, D.1D.,
Pastor o the lqrst Cor~gregattonal C'hurch, Albamy.
"Hold fast that which is good."-1 TRmss. v. 21.
NEW YORK:
ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH, 770 BROADWAY.
1867.
ONTH
.$ 
I 
THIS volume, when it was originally issued, was immediately republished  in London  and  Edinburgh  by  the
Messrs. NELSONS. The American edition has been for
some time out of the market, and the present edition
is from the English plates, which have been generously
placed at the author's service by that respectable and well
known house.
The very favorable reception of the book in all quarters,
and the knowledge of particular instances in which it has
been savingly useful, have lead to this new and corrected
issue.
It is again commended to the attention of thoughtful
young persons, in the hope that it may be blest of God
to the confirmation of their faith.
R. P.
NEw YORK, October, I 867.
7-3-33  
TO
JULIUS A. PALMER, ESQ.,
OF BOSTON, MASS.,
WHOSE WARM FRATERNAL AFFECTION AND STEADY CHRIS
TIAN FRIENDSHIP, HAVE BEEN AMONG THE GREATEST
BLESSINGS OF MY LIFE;
AND WHOSE
FAITHFUL LABORS AND LONG EXPERIENCE IN THE R,LIGI
OUS INSTRUCTION OF YOUNG MEN AND WOMEN:.o
**
WILL ENABLE HIM
TO APPRECIATE THIS ATTEMPT TO AID THEM IN THEIR
DIFFICULTIES,
THESE PAGES ARE AFFECTIONATELY
INSCRIBED
BY HIS OBLIGED AND GRATEFUL BROTHER,
RAY PALMER.
N\
i
(i
I 
, ge i  
THE following discourses are not addressed to
positive unbelief. A different method would be
necessary in order to the hopeful treatment of
this. They were prepared for the benefit of those
who, having been educated into a full belief of
the Christian faith, have found themselves, on
coming to maturity, or afterwards, disturbed with
inward  questionings  and doubts.   The  design
was, by hints in relation to some of the more
important subjects, to assist such in giving their
thoughts  a right direction,-; and in confirming
themselves intelligently in their early religious
convictions. The reader will not expect to find
in popular addresses the completeness of discussion
which belongs to the class-room, but only such a
style of treatment as the occasion and the special
end in view demanded. In the present state of
(irtfart. 
the popular mind, there are doubtless great numbers of the best educated young people of our
country who, whether they avow it or not, are in
the state of uncertainty and hesitation to which
we  have referred.   To  suoh it is hoped these
pages may have an interest, and render some
timelv air                                IL P.
Th
VI
PREFACE. 
pkm
L Evils of a state of Scepticism,  9............                     9
IL Nature of Reasoning and of Proof........                    25
IIL Responsibility of Men for their Opinions,...... 43
IV. The Practical Value of Opinions,.........     60
V. Belief in the Being of God,............      75
VL Argument from Design for the Divine Existence,......   93
VII. The Christian Revelation to be Presumed Divine,......    108
VIII. Christianity authenticated in the Experience of its Power,...    128
IX. Christianity a Religion of Facts,...........    146
X. Mystery no Obstacle to Faith,............    164
XI. The Highest Evidence may not produce Belief,......    178
XII. The Dark Things of Life in the Light of-evelation,...    193
XIII. The Gospel the Sole Hope of the World,.........    209
XIV. Good to be chosen as a Guide,............    231
XV. The Value of a Life as related to our Time,....        247
Conttnfs. 
L 
WHAT IS TRUTH?
IL
,vils o   f a $fait -of $tep M.
HzBs. xiii. 9: Be not carried about with divers and strange doctrines:
for it is a good thing that the heart be established with grace.
HAVE  been for some time proposing to myself to
address to the congregation, more particularly to the
younger portion of it, some thoughts on the formation of
religious opinions. The vital importance of the topic as
related to the present state of the popular mind, and the
consideration that there is growing up among us so large
a class of intelligent young persons, many of whom'ave
enjoyed superior advantages of education, have seemed to
render it specially proper that our attention should be
turned in this direction.   I am aware that a full and
thorough discussion of the subject would involve the
treating of some questions too abstruse and difficult for
popular discourse; but without proposing to say all that
6,.
I..,j 
10      EVILS OF A STATE OF SCEPTICISM.
such a discussion would require, it may at least be possible
to give such hints as may be useful to the thoughtful and
candid inquirer. This is what I shall attempt to do.
The importance to be attached to the forming of opinions,
in any case, will of course be proportioned to the intrinsic
moment of the matter to which they relate. The fact
that we gather here from week to week is itself an
acknowledgment that, in our judgment, the things pertaining to religion are things of the gravest import. It is
a virtual avowal that we are convinced, at least in our
understandings, that our religious responsibilities are
most weighty and solemn in their bearing, our religious
interests the most sacred and precious of all the interests
of our being, and religious truth, of course, of all truth
the most highly to be prized. Whatever directly concerns our characters and training as the responsible creatures of God and the heirs of immortality, does certainly
demand our earnest consideration.
The present topic of discourse will be that which is
naturally suggested by the text: the evils of an habitually
unsettled and fluctuating state of mind, as compared with
the fixed stability which rests on the solid foundations of
truth, thoroughly examined and cordially received and
held.
It would seem hardly to be expected, where ample
means of religious knowledge are enjoyed, that such a
state of mind should be a common thing.   The habitual
study of Christianity in its sacred records and in its practical results, from childhood up to adult years, would
gradually, it might naturally be supposed, lead to a full
7' 
EVILS OF A STATE OF SCEPTICISM.
and satisfying conviction of its truth, or else to the decided and conclusive rejection of it as a false and worthless system. The fact, however, it is certain is quite
otherwise. Perhaps in nothing does the perverted condition of our moral nature more appear than in the inaptitude which men naturally exhibit to comprehend truths
which are spiritual in their nature, and the difficulty with
which they are brought to feel their reality, and to perceive their practical applications in relation to themselves.
This want of susceptibility to the truths pertaining to
God and religion, was recognised by Socrates and Plato,
by Cicero and Seneca, as well as by Paul and John.
Deism not less than Christianity has encountered and
acknowledged it. It is, indeed, too plain to be denied.
It is, fact that stands out in prominence on the bistory
of the race that the clearness with which the moral and
spiritual truths which most  concern men are perceived,
and the strength of the impression which they make, are
not at all in proportion, generally, to the evidence with
which they are attended. Hence doubt very frequently
exists where the materials of certainty are ample.
Of those who are educated under religious light and
influence, and who are led in early life to accept Christianity, a very considerable number sooner or later find
themselves to have reached a state in which they are disposed to question almost everything pertaining to religion.
More commonly this crisis arrives in advanced youth, or
on the verge of manhood. Up to that time the mind has
been content to take as truth, on the authority of others,
and with but little question, whatever may have been
11 
12     EVILS OF A STATE OF SCEPTICISM.
taught it. It has acquiesced, without serious difficulty,
in the statements of parents and teachers as to what were
the claims of duty; and has generally taken it for granted,
however little it may practically have felt their power,
that the views in which it has been trained to rest
are sound.   But now there comes a change.   Of the
views and impressions which childhood entertained on a
variety of subjects, advancing years and knowledge have
shown many to be erroneous. In respect to others, it is
now perceived that although they may be true, they have
been received without examination, and retained by the
force of habit or authority, and not from an apprehension
of the evidence by which they are made certain. It is
not strange that such discoveries should beget a doubting
spirit-a disposition to doubt even with as little reason
and as little justice as was exhibited before in yielding an
assent. In this state of mind the inquirer is inclined to
question everything, as he once was to believe everything.
He has found a few things, or, if you please, many things,
to be false, and so he is afraid to believe that anything is
true. He passes, by a not unnatural process, from the
extreme of credulity to the extreme of scepticism.
No wonder that, in such a state of feeling, the truths of
religion and its claims should come to be questioned
with a greater or less degree of earnestness; and inasmuch
as they make a strong appeal to the conscience on the
mere statement of them, and aside from all proof, and
also involve, if they are what they seem, the highest of all
interests, it is only natural that the result should be an
inward strife, perplexed and troubled thoughts, and a rest 
E.VILS OF A STATE OF SCEPTICiSM.'
less uncertainty of mind whenever these subjeets. are considerea. As an aggravation of the evil, too, it is just at
this same period that the youthful heart begins to feel the
temptations that solicit appetite and kindle passion,
attracting to self-indulgence and the pursuit of worldly
pleasure.   It is perceived that religion. speaks with a
grave and earnest voice; that she commands self-discipline
and self-restraint; that she forbids to make life a mere
chase after selfish gratifications, and insists that great and
difficult duties should be undertaken and laboriously discharged. Here, then, are reasons to the young just beginning to look out on life's illusions, for wishing that
the teachings of religion may not, after all, be true; and
the excited wish is likely to exert a powerful influence on
the judgment, and greatly to increase the difficulty of
weighing these teachings with candid impartiality. Between a doubting frame of mind and the drawing of
inclination on the one hand, and the wants of the soul and
the urgent power of religious truth, upon the other, the
individual hesitates, and balances, and wavers, and seems
to himself to be standing among shifting sands, where he
can plant his feet on nothing that is firm.
At this point one of three things must happen: Either
the mind must become utterly lost to truth, and settle
itself on the ultimately fatal grounds of false opinion; or
it must drift on unfixed, full of uncertainty, and driveu
now this way and now that on the troubled sea of doubt;
or, lastly, it must lay hold of the strong cable of sound
evidence, and intelligently and deliberately cast anchor on
the sure foundations of the truth. There are doubtless
13 
14      EVILS OF A STATE OF SCEPTICISM.
some who do succeed in confirming themselves in false.
hood beyond the chance of recovery. We are sure, also,
that there are those who gain a hold onil truth which
nothing can relax, and which permanently sets their hearts
at rest. But how large a number fall into the intermediate class, the class of perpetual doubters!-of unstable
souls, who habitually live in the disastrous twilight of
uncertain speculation, and are carried about by diverse
and strange doctrines, always catching at a new absurdity
to relieve the weariness of dwelling on the last; who, in
short, are very much in the condition of Milton's fallen
angels when they
"Reasoned high
Of Providence, fore-knowledge, will, and fate,
And found no end, in wandering mazes lost."
What can be more deplorable than this unnatural, this
morbid bewilderment of the soul? A rational nature was
surely never made to live in a realm of phantoms that for
ever mock it by putting on new shapes. Such a state is,
of all things, to -be dreaded.
For, in the first place, it must needs be an exceedingly
unhappy state. To all minds that have received even a
moderate degree of cultivation, it is a source of positive
pleasure to have, on all important subjects, clear views
and well-defined opinions.   The healthful faculties delight in reaching and grasping truth when excited to inqiLry. They are gratified at being able to settle things
with certainty. So, on the contrary, it is painful to the
sound mind to grope about in the, " everlasting fog"-to
be thireading backward and forward the mazy labyrinths 
EVILS OP A STATE OF SCEPTICISM.
of vague inquiry, which chases shadows and catches at
emptiness, finding nothing solid on which it can rely.
This, we say, is the constitutional law of the mind, let
the subject about which it inquires be what it may.
But if the matter in question be one on the right understanding of which great consequences are depending,
there must be, in addition to the doubtfulness, the pain
of anxious apprehension. The fear of what calamities
may, soon or late, result from failure to ascertain the truth,
will often haunt the mind and mingle more or less with
all its thoughts. Religion, it is clearly seen, if it be anything, is of the highest imaginable interest; and to miss
the truth in such an affair, may, it cannot but be felt, involve irreparable loss, disaster that nothing can retrieve.
Here is a most effectual cause of disquiet to the soul.
How can a man have inward peace, when it is wholly uncertain, in his view, whether he is the offspring of an Infinite Mind, or of a blind chance; whether he has a nature
essentially angelic, or is only a better sort of brute;
whether he has any certain guide to duty, or is left to find
it out by accident; and whether, if he survive the t6mb,
his happiness or misery will, or will not, be then at all
affected by his present character and conduct? Rest content with such questions as these unsettled! A fool may
-a man of reflection cannot. You might as well rest
content on a stormy sea, when you know not whether
your ship be sound or rotten; your chart and compass reliable or worthless; the hoarse murmur which you hear,
the howling of the wind, or the roar of the surf that beats
on the fatal rocksl Nothing but profound stupidity can
is 
16      EVILS OF A STATE OF SCEPTICISM.
give the mind that lives in a state of wavering uncertainty
respecting the essentials of religion anything that really
deserves the name of peace.
It is also evident, still further, that a state of chronic
scepticism tends greatly to enfeeble both the character and
the mind.  There is a very c amnion mistake on this point.
It is no unusual thing to mineet with those, more particularly among young men, who have the notion that there
is something indicative of a superior mind in a state of
doubt.  They imagine it a mark of originality and penetration to be sceptical about those things which others
confidently believe-to be starting difficulties in opposition to all opinions; and so they are led rather to cultivate an unsettled habit of mind, than to endeavour to
escape it. But the truth is just the reverse of this. A
really vigorous and healthful mind cannot be satisfied to
continue long in a dubious state, when, as is true in the
matter of religion, the materials for forming fixed conclusions are at hand.  A strong mind presses on to a decision.
It is content only when getting at results. A sceptical
habit-observe I do not say a season of temporary questioning, but a chronic habit of doubting-most generally
indicates a want of mental energy to lay hold of evidence
and to appreciate its force; a lack of the strength of mind
required in order to rise above the prejudices and biases
that embarrass and tend to warp the judgment. It betrays an intellectual feebleness already existing and likely
to perpetuate itself.
For when the mind has been allowed, and rather encouraged, to wander among the mists of doubt; to look 
EVILS OF A STATE OF SCEPTICISM.
rather after difficulties, than after proofs; it seems to be come incapable of logical deduction and unsuscepltible to
the effect of evidence.   Having  accustomed itself to
waver, it cannot, when it would, decide; or, if it has in
any case decided, it cannot hold to its decision. What
yesterday it examined and concluded to be true, it is to day, just as much as ever, disposed again to question.
There is a manifest enfeebling of the power by which the
mind, when in a vigorous state, makes use of evidence to
establish itself with collected firmness on the solid ground
of truth. That it should be so results from well-known
laws of mind.
It will also be true that in proportion to this loss of
force of intellect, there will be likewise a loss of general
force of character. He who is unable to decide with
promptness, will not be able to execute with vigour. The
habitual vacillation of the mind will be sure to exhibit
itself in a feeble, time-serving, irresolute course of action
There is no class of truths which operates so powerfully in
forming the whole character as religious truths. There
are no motives which produce such energy of purpose as
the motives which religious faith supplies.  A  state of
habitual doubting therefore, while it tends, whatever be
the subject, to infirmity of mind and character, must tend
to this with special force and certainty when it is in relation to the essentials of religion itself that the habit is indulged. Live without any settled views in politics, in
philosophy, in practical economy, and you will be a weaker
man than you would be with fixed convictions in relation
to those subjects& But live in dim bewilderment in re
17 
18      EVILS OF A4 STATE OF SCFPTICISM.
gard to the great matter of religion, and the enfeebling influence will be felt in a far higher and more mischievous
degree. It will make you vastly inferior, as a man, to what
you would have been with a settled religious faith.
There is yet another evil result of the habit of mind in
question. It is very liable to impair the love of truth, and
to lower the estimate set on it by the judgment. Truth
has been well defined to be "the reality of things."  To
know truth is to know things as they are. On knowing
them in this manner, on having a right understanding
especially of those things that directly relate to us, our
highest welfare essentially depends. Nothing therefore,
in fact, is so precious to us as truth. As Solomon has
said-the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise
of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. It is more
precious than rubies; and all the things thou canst desire
are not to be compared to it. God has, accordingly, given
the mind an instinctive love for truth, a natural desire to
know things as they are. It is this that prompts the inquisitiveness of childhood-the prying curiosity that desires to have all mysteries cleared up, and that presses inquiry often back to the very elements of thought. It is
an important end of education to encourage and strengthen
this desire, and give it a right direction; and observation
and experience show that, in respect to many subjects at
least, it is, on the other hand, capable of being weakened,
and almost or quite destroyed.
It is found, for example, especially easy to repress the
instinctive desire to know, when there is occasion to apprehend that the knowledge of the truth might be for any 
EVILS OF A STATE OF SCEPTICISM.
reason painful; and this is the case invariably in respect
to sinful man when he inquires about religion. While on
this, as on other subjects, he feels the natural desire for
knowledge, there are conscious reasons growing out of his
own character, which prompt him to resist this desire,
and rather to shrink from full and certain knowledge, than
to seek it.  He is inclined to indulge himself in something. The question, Is it right? suggests itself. If he
presses the inquiry, he may find himself obliged to deny
his inclination; and he will be very likely for this reason
not to press it. The appetite for truth may yield to the
stronger appetite for self-indulgence which now has possession of the mind. In every such case, of course, the
love of truth must necessarily be weakened.   There will
be less appreciation of its value than before; and if the
oftener the love of truth is repressed for such a reason,
the feebler it becomes, it must finally be destroyed. But
this is what is happening all the while in the unsettled,
wavering, and doubtful mind. The inclination to indulge
in all sorts of curious speculations and even idle fancies;
to wander round and round from one opinion to another
without seriously attempting to settle upon any, resists
and gradually overpowers the instinctive appetite for
truth. Truth now loses her attractiveness. There is a
growing insensibility to her inestimable  value; and at
last there comes an indifferent recklessness that cares but
little whether it has the truth or not; and which is ready
to adopt the foolish maxim-that it does not matter
whether one's opinions accord with the reality of things
or not. Great, inexpressibly great, is the mischief done, wheu
2
19
f 
20      EVILS OF A STATE OF SCEPTICISM.
the rational soul, in its constitution noble, is thus virtually
divested of one of its highest and most glorious attributes
It is fallen and debased, indeed, when its inward longing
after truth, and especially religious truth, is felt no more.
It remains only to say finally, that a state of sceptical
uncertainty is attended with great danger as regards its
last result. To doubt about anything is, of course, to admit the possibility that it is true. To doubt about the
claims and obligations of religion is to allow that we are
not sure that these are not founded in reality. But while
those who are floating on the sea of doubt, confess, by
their very uncertainty, that the teachings of religion may
quite possibly be true, they are sure to act, in the main,
as though certain they were false. So long, for example,
as you doubt whether there be a God, you will act, almost
with certainty, as though you knew there were none; that
is, you will live to yourself alone. So long as you doubt
whether the Bible be a supernatural revelation, you will
allow it to have little if any more weight with you than if
you certainly knew its claims to be unfounded; you will
not suffer it to control you. So long as you doubt whether
you are to live beyond the grave, you will demean yourself, for the most part, as though the contrary were the
fact; you will confine your thoughts to the present life.
And then, by the supposition, when you have lived and
acted as though these things are false, they may, after all,
turn out to be the great and solemn realities which they
are believed by religious men to be. When you shall have
wasted life and opportunities in urging difficulties, and
asking curious questions, and indulging in speculative
i 
EVILS OF A STATE OF SCEPTICISM.
scepticism, you may, as your doubts imply, awake to the
serious certainty that there is a God, that the Scriptures
are divine, that your spirit is immortal, that life was a
season of probation, and that eternity is the scene of
righteous and unending retribution. We are not now asserting, let it be observed, that these things are indeed so;
we are only saying that since by doubting, you concede
that they possibly are true, even to your own judgment
it must be clear that you run the tremendous risk offinding them all true, though you have lived as if they were
all fiction. It needs no words to show that if you live as
though the truths of religion were mere dreams, and it
shall finally turn out that they are great realities, you are
undone inevitably, and that for ever. This, then, is the
amazing peril of resting in a dubious, unestablished frame.
Even those who do this cannot but perceive that they run
the hazard, the unspeakably awful hazard of a wretched,
lost eternity. Religion and godliness, according to their
view of things, hang trembling in equal balance. The
side of religion may, they admit, preponderate; and if it
does, they have made everlasting shipwreck of their souls!
How much to be deprecated and dreaded is a position that
involves continually the danger of a fall from which there
is no recovery!
Here, then, are weighty reasons for regarding it as a
very serious evil to be in habitual doubt in regard to
the truths and duties of religion-reasons which make
it appear in the highest degree desirable that the heart
should be established. Of course it follows that nothing
should be done by any thoughtful person to favour such
21 
22      EVILS OF A STATE OF SCEPTICISM.
a state, but that, on the contrary, diligent and resolute
effort should be made to avoid, or to escape it. When
in the gradual unfolding and progress of the mind, that
questioning, inquiring period, of which we spoke in the
beginning, comes, it is a most interesting and critical
period in one's history.   It need not launch one on a
boundless sea of doubt; engendering the chronic, intellectual, and moral disease of scepticism without end. It
may be, it ought to be, the season in which the mind,
enlightened and well directed, obtains the mastery over
prejudice and inclination; lays hold of truth with a clear
understanding of its grounds, and finds in it so received
an abiding test.
Do any of you, my young hearers, find the impressions
of your childhood giving way, in some degree, so that you
feel disposed to question them and to demand on what
foundation they are based. You see with what seriousness you should regard the crisis. Never, in all your life,
has there been a time when you so greatly needed the
counsel of your kindest, most faithful, and judicious friends.
To listen now to the cavils of the scoffer; to neglect calm,
honest thought and careful reading; to indulge the affectation of singularity in your opinions, or the taste for idle
speculation; to please yourselves with the fancy that it is
a mark of manliness to doubt; is almost certainly to place
yourselves in that permanently evil state which we have
been considering. Such a course is worse than folly; it
is mnadness such as words cannot express.
Yes!  Believe it, my intelligent young friend-the poor
way-faring man, who wanders homeless and friendless over 
EVILS OF A STATE OF SCEPTICISM.
the wide world, finding never a voice of greeting nor a
resting-place in which he may take up his abode, is farfar less an object of compassion, than he whose soul is
driven about perpetually in the chaos of confused and
dubious thought, where all is dim and shadowy, and can
find nothing that is stable; who as to the highest and
most vital questions of his being, has established nothing,
and positively believes nothing! Rather than suffer yourselves to slide into such a state, it were wisdom to suspend
all other business, to shut yourselves up in the chamber
of meditation and research, and to bend the undivided
energies of your mindcs on this one work of reaching conclusions which will satisfy; and this with humble, earnest
prayer to the Father of lights for that divine illumination
without which spiritual things are never clearly seen by
any of.mankind. Never can you say that truth is beyond
your reach, till you have thus done your utmost to discern
and to embrace it, in simplicity and honesty of mind.
When you have actually done this, you will not wish to
say it. We say nothing now as to what conclusions you
will come to, when you shall have done your whole duty
in settling your opinions; but we do say, without any
hesitation, that conclusions of some kind-sound conclusions-conclusions that will set your minds at rest-you
will be sure to reach.
It must be so. No greater absurdity can easily be conceived than that of supposing such a being as man, with
an intellectual nature, whose instincts yearn for truth,
placed in the midst of this grand uuiveJse of things,
without the power to know with certainty so much as
23 
24      EVILS OF A STATE OF SCEPTICISM.
is essential to his welfare.   No, rest assured you are
not doomed to so miserable a lot. You can have satisfaction on all really vital questions, if you will.  You
may plant yourselves, if you will do it, where, though
floods come, and the tempests beat, and the refuges of
error are all swept away, you can stand calmly and in
serenity of soul, and feel your foundations firm. Believe
it-nay rather, make the experiment for yourselves, and
know it with a happiness that cannot be described. There
is LIGHT-and you were made to see it.  Tlhere is REALITY
-and you were made to find it. There is religious TRUTH
-the very truth for which your soul is groping-and you,
you may grasp the inestimable treasure, and make it
your own blessed and permanent possession. Dread to
live doubters, as you would dread a moral pestilence which
was certain to prove fatal to your soul.
11
l 
NATURE OF REA.O~IVYT  AND OF PROOF.   X5
II.
-o add Ad -
1 THESS. v. 21: Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.
T is the high prerogative of man's intelligent nature to
discriminate between truth and error. This is tc be
done by careful, honest, and patient examination, and
by the application of the proper tests. When facts or
opinions pertaining to any subject present themselves to
our attention, it is not until they have been tried by the
understanding and established by the decision of the
judgment, that we can properly be said to know them.
Having fairly weighed all things, we are then able to hold
fast that which is good.
In referring to the evils of a permanent state of uncer
tainty and doubt, we have insisted on applying the mind
resolutely and with vigour at the outset to the work of
settling itself onil something with the least possible delay.
In so insisting, we have assumed, what it seems to us
against all reason to deny, that in matters so vital to
our welfare as those which religion necessarily involves,
substantial truth must be a possible attainment to sincere
and diligent inquirers. It may be true that no assiduity,
on our part, can save us from falling into some comparatively trifling errors; but certainly it must be possible to
save ourselves from such as are fundamental in their nature 
26   N VATURE OF REASO.LVING AND OF PROOF.
-such as will have an essential bearing on the highest
interests of our being. Of what use, pray, are the rational
powers in which we boast ourselves, if they will not avail
us at least so far as this?
But in order to the right use of our faculties, and of
our means of knowledge, in the pursuit of religious truth,
it is indispensable that we distinctly understand what
mode of reasoning, and what principles of evidence, are
demanded in the discussion of the great themes of religion. A wrong impression on the mind as to the kind of
proof to be expected, in order to the establishment of particular truths, is without doubt one of the greatest, and at
the same time one of the most common sources of embarrassment to those who are seriously endeavouring to settle their
religious opinions. Manysuch persons have never had their
attention called to the nature of evidence; and have not been
led to notice that different subjects require widely different
kinds and degrees of proof, and even directly opposite
methods of inquiry.   From mistaken apprehensions as to
these material things, they have been baffled in their earnest
investigations when they should have arrived at certainty.
It is my present object, therefore, to explain the nature
of the reasoning and the proof by which religious truth in
general is established. If the topic seems abstruse, and
requires some special attention to understand it, the vast
importance of it practically in relation to religious inquiry,
must be my apology for taxing your attention with it. I
will try to make what I wish to say as clear as possible.
First then, I observe that there are two kinds of reasoning employed to establish truth One of these is called
i,
i
I, 
NATURE OF REASONING AND OF PROOF.
demonstrative the other probable, or moraL   This distinction is not a mere refinement of the schools; it is
founded in the nature of things, and may be comprehended
by any person of ordinary understanding. Demonstrative
reasoning starts with somethiing which is known, advances
with positive certainty at each successive step, and ends
in a conclusion that is absolutely irresistible, commanding
the unqualified assent of every person who understands
the statement of the process. Moral reasoning, on the
other hand, proceeds by adding probability to probability,
until there is no more room for reasonable doubt; and,
from the nature of the case, a given amount of moral
evidence may produce very different degrees of conviction
in the minds of different persons. It is a proposition in
geometry, that the angles contained in any triangle, are
together equal to two right angles. The proof of this is
drawn directly from the nature of lines and angles as
previously defined; and the certainty of the conclusion is
the same to every person in the world who is able to comprehend the terms employed. This is demonstration. I
am told for the first time that there was such a man as
Julius Cesar. I demand the proof. A variety of facts
are adduced in evidence, which separately rest on different
authorities, and some of which have more and some have
less weight, when taken by themselves; but all together,
they prove that such a person did exist beyond a question,
though not beyond the conceivable possibility that the
contrary should be true. This is probable, or moral
reasoning. It does not start in premises, nor end in conclusions, which are certain in the very nature of things
27 
28;.'ATURE OF REASONING AND OF PROOF.
The two methods, then, are seen to be altogether un like. The one determines what is necessarily true; the
other what is true in fact. A demonstration is wholly
worthless if it be not absolutely perfect. A course of
moral reasoning, on the contrary, may have great weight
although it involves many possibilities of error. In the
one case, conviction is entire at every step of the whole
process, in the other, it is gradually wrought as the argument advances, and becomes stronger and stronger the
further it is carried, each fact or circumstance combining
to establish the conclusion.
In the next place, it is important to be observed that
moral reasoning may produce as strong conviction in the
mind, as firm a belief of the truth to which it has respect,
as that which is produced by demonstration. It is very
far from being true that nothing can be received by the
mind as certain, which is not shown to be necessary in
the nature of things. If this were so, then there would
be nothing certain to us, which requires to be proved at
all, except the abstract truths of mathematics and geometry;
whereas there are, in point of fact, a thousand things not
in themselves self-evident, which we believe as surely as
our own existence, and to which demonstrative reasoning
cannot be applied. Indeed, in the determination of our
conduct every day in the practical affairs of life, we are
continually coming to conclusions and acting on them
without the least misgiving, with as absolute certainty as
the mind is capable of feeling, where moral evidence- the
evidence of probabilities-alone is possible. Of course,
if this be so, the fact that any particular truth does not
i 
NA TURE OF REASONING ANVD OF PROOF.
admit of demonstration, by no means makes it certain
that it does not admit of proof-of being established to
the entire satisfaction of the mind. If this matter is not
clearly understood, there will be continual embarrassment
in the attempt to settle truth.
Let us illustrate, then, for the sake of clearness. You
are a merchant. You go to the post-office, and take from
it a letter to your address. You receive it with full conviction that it comes from your business correspondent at
New Orleans. You are as sure of this as you are that two
and two make four; and nothing can add to the strength of
your assurance. But on what is this assurance grounded?
You have not, and cannot have, the evidence of demonstration. Demonstrative reasoning, from its very nature,
can have no application to such cases. Your proof is all
of the moral, or probable kind. Your sure belief is produced by a combination of circumstances which, according
to the laws of the human mind, have all the force of demonstration, while not one element of the thing is really
involved. This an analysis will show you.
Your ship, we will suppose, was expected to reach her
port at a certain date; this letter bears that date, and
purports to give an account of her arrival. This is one
circumstance. You put on board the ship a freight of
hay; and also some special article, say a few barrels of
choice fruit, as a present to a friend; and the letter mentions that these are all in good condition.  Here is another
authenticating item.- You sent a verbal message by the
master of the vessel to your agent-the letter clearly implies that this had been delivered. Your son went pas.
29 
30   NATURE OF REASONING ANVD OF PROOF.
senger on board, and the letter refers to him as well. You
forwarded by the master an order that your agent should
enclose to you a draft of a particular amount and tenor;
the letter contains precisely such a draft. You are
familiar with the handwriting of your agent; and you
recognise this letter as like the rest. And finally, you
have a private mark which he is instructed to place on
every letter that he writes to you, and you find it as usual
upon this.
What then can be more plain, than that this letter has
absolutely conclusive proof of authenticity-proof as conv    i ncing to the mind as any demonstration in           geometry.
Yet this proof is all of the moral kind. It does not shake
your confidence in the genuineness of the letter-not in
the least-that there is a conceivable possibility that some
one has found out everything relating to your vessel and
your business, has acquired the handwriting and possessed
himself of the private mark, and has written you a fictitious letter, which the real one of your correspondent may
in some particulars contradict to-morrow, and has made
you a present of the draft enclosed. All this is possible.
But it is enough for you that the probabilities that such
a combination of proofs should be found deceptive are infinitely small. There are a million to one in favour of the
genuineness of the letter. You do not ask, you do not
feel the slightest wish for greater certainty.
From this example, therefore, it is manifest that moral
reasoning is not at all inferior to demonstration in power
to convince the mind so that it shall rest with absolute
and unwavering confidence in the conclusions it has
I 
NATURE OF REASONING A,VD OF PROOF.  31
reached. Whoever objects to the certainty of any fact or
truth which is properly supported by such reasoning, be cause demonstrative evidence is wanting, objects without
good ground; and only shows that he himself does not
understand the nature and the laws of reasoning. Nine
out of ten, yea, even a much greater proportion of all the
particular things which he believes without a doubt, and
on which he daily without any hesitation grounds his conduct, are believed on probable or moral evidence. This
is true in the case of every one of us.
We advance then, in the third place, still another step
and add, that the whole field of religious truth lies without the circle of things which admit of demonstration.
In other words, demonstrative reasoning, in its strict
sense, as we have defined it, has no possible application
to those subjects with which religious faith is properly
concerned. We do, indeed, in the examination of these
subjects, sometimes resort to the form of demonstration;
but when we do this, we always start from premises which
rest on moral proof; and so at last, it is on the certainty
of moral proof alone that our conclusions stand.  Moral
reasoning ivould not be more entirety out c f pl ce in an
astronomical calculation, than demonstrative reasoning
would be in an attempt to settle a primary doctrine of religion.
We may refer, for the sake of illustration, to the being
and attributes of God. We know of but one serious attempt to demonstrate the truth on this great subjectthat of the celebrated Dr. Samuel Clarke  and this,
although displaying great metaphysical acuteness, is ui 
32  NATURE OF REASONING AND OF PROOF
versally regarded as a failure. The fatal difficulty is that
the premises which he assumes as necessary truths are not
such; or, in other words, the very nature of the subject
renders the application to it of such a mode of reasoning
impossible.  Instead, therefore, of demanding a demonstration of the existence and attributes of the Deity, the
inquirer who understands the true principles of reasoning
will look for moral evidence; and if he perceives that
there is such a kind and amount of moral proof as must,
when properly appreciated, give a certainty beyond all
reasonable doubt, he will ask for nothing more.
Let it be supposed then, that on looking for proofs of
the divine existence, you find the following facts:  First, that the notion of God, of divinity as one or
many, is universal among mankind; as though it were to
the human soul a necessary notion. Next, that when the
reasoning mind sets itself to reflect upon the subject, it
finds along with the consciousness of its own existence,
the consciousness also that it is not self-existent, and a
conviction that there must be a self-existent being on
whom it is dependent. Further, that in both body and
mind there are found clear indications of adaptation and
design; that the eye is exquisitely constructed in relation
to the light, the ear as curiously adjusted to the atmosphere, and every sense and every organ throughout precisely fitted to its purpose; and that the body, as a whole,
is admirably suited to the entire necessities of material existence. Then as to the mind, suppose, that it is observed
to have just those instincts, susceptibilities, and powers
that are demanded by the sphere in which it is ordained
I\ 
NATURE OF REASONlNi AND OF PROOF.   33
to move, and appears to be in its capabilities of thought,
affection, and volition, a wonderful product of creative
wisdom; and that in the fact that it has a conscience, and
an ineradicable sense of moral obligation, it seems to stand
related to law, and of course to a lawgiver. Suppose still
further, that without itself, the intellect perceives the universe as not self-existent, though in fact existing; that
nature in every part offers indications of a well-adjusted
plan; that each particular object exhibits nice contrivances which fit it to sustain its own existence, if endowed
with any kind of life, to answer its special end, and at the
same time an obvious relation to the great system of which
it forms a part. And finally, suppose that the gradations
of animal and vegetable life, the general order, harmony,
and beauty inll the entire arrangement of the whole, is such
as to give the conception of an impressive unity in the
midst of an endless variety and multitude. It appears as
one grand universe, to compose which an inconceivable
number of separate parts, or objects, harmoniously conspire.
Whether these things actually are as now supposed, we
may inquire hereafter. We only say for the present that
if you should find them so; and if in the presence of
such facts, your soul should acknowledge and even imperatively demand a God, it would not disturb you that
you had not a demonstration of the existence of a necessary infinite and eternal Being. You would have a moral
argument carried to such a height of conclusiveness and
strength, that it would be difficult to see how its convincing power could be increased. You would be in substan 
34.A TURNE OF REASONING AND OF PROOF.
tially the same condition as on the reception of the letter
in the case already imagined. A million to one, as in the
other instance, you must say within yourself, there is a
supreme intelligent Cause, a God, as the Author of the
universe; and yet you would be perfectly aware that
there was nothing of demonstration in the case. You
would not only feel no need of such a thing, but you could
not help perceiving that the nature of the subject utterly
forbade it. Where the proofs are all moral, the reasoning
must be moral. There are no postulates or axioms in relation to the existence and attributes of God on which a
course of demonstrative reasoning can be based.
In like manner the question of divine revelation may
be seen not to belong to the province of inquiry within
which the demonstrative method can properly be applied.
No definitions, no first truths, or known relations of things,
can possibly be laid down on which to reason with mathematical precision here.   It requires  but a moment's
thought to see that to expect or to demand that a revelation, if made, should be supported by evidence of this
sort, would be to demand what, in the nature of things, is
impossible and absurd. You must, indeed, have proofin a matter of such moment, proof of the most conclusive
and satisfying kind, in order to believe; and if you find
it at all, it must be in the moral form, one item added
to another till there is no longer room for reasonable
doubt.
Look at the case as it lies before the mind of one who
after examination believes the truth of the Christian revelation.  He starts with what ho deems the obvious need
II
i
i 
NATURE OF REASONING ANVD OF PROOF.  35
there was that God should reveal himself to men, and the
extreme improbability that the infinitely Good and Wise
would create a being with such endowments as those that
belong to man, and then abandon him to helpless ignorance in respect to the highest relations and the most
important interests of his being. He finds next a pro
fessed revelation, appearing worthy to have come from
God and exhibiting in its contents marks of a superhuman origin, claiming to have been received by special
divine communications, and professing to be sustained by
the evidence of various prophecies and miracles. In support of these claims he brings together the historic testimony to the truth of the sacred records in which it is
delivered; the purity of its teachings and the grandeur of
its disclosures; its adaptation to the great wants of the
human race; the wonderful character, life, death, alleged
resurrection and ascension of the Founder of Christianity,
the entire spirit and character of the gospel as forbidding
the supposition that it originated with wicked men; its
early successes and its permanent power and progress in
the world; its elevating influence on individual and social
man whenever and wherever heartily received; the celestial peace both for life and death which it has been found
to carry to the heart, and finally its immeasurable superiority to all other religions. It is, I say, with all these
and various other similar items, that the believer in revelation constructs the argument on which he rests; an argument rising, as he thinks, with the force of a mighty
accumulation, to a degree of certainty that leaves nothing
to be desired in order to complete conviction. While the
3 
36. YTURE OF REASONING AND OF PROOF.
lack of proof would, of course, be fatal, the lack of demonstration, it is plain, is only the lack of something that has
no possible relation to such a matter.
We need not refer particularly to other related truths of
what is called revealed religion.   The whole circle of
spiritual doctrines, such as the Trinity, the incarnation,
the atonement, the mission of the Holy Spirit, and others
connected with these and resulting directly from them, so
obviously belong to the sphere of moral reasoning, that
the attempt to demonstrate them would be absurd, and of
course to ask for demonstration is unreasonable and weak
If you assume the existence and attributes of God as
proved by moral reasoning, you may, indeed, deduce in a
demonstrative way from these as premises, some other important truths respecting him; and if on the same grounds
you accept revelation as established, you may apply, in a
qualified sense, the demonstrative style of argument in
the determination of its particular doctrines. But in each
case, since the premises rest on moral evidence, the certainty of the conclusions to which you are conducted will
rest of course on moral evidence. Such are the laws of
reasoning. Such is the unalterable nature of things.
We have only to add lastly, that the power of moral
reasoning to produce conviction depends very materially
on the state of the mind to which it is presented; while
the power of demonstrative reasoning does not depend on
this at all. Of course we mean the state of the mind as to
its dispositions, prejudices, and biases of every kind. This
is a most essential point of difference between the two
modes of settling truth, and must not be overlooked. 
NATURE OF REASONING AND OF PROOF.   37
Address the demonstration of a geometrical problem  to
any person who is competent to understand it, and no preconceived opinion, no aversion to the truth or wish that it
should be otherwise, no unwillingness from any cause to
be convinced, did these exist in ever so great strength, can
make the smallest difference as to admitting the conclusion. The admission of it is absolutely and in the strictest sense compelled. The mind has no power to hold back
or to evade; it must believe, or lose its rationality. But
the case is widely different when you essay by moral argument to lead a person to a.conviction of any truth. In
this case, as the process advances not from the necessary
to the necessary, but from the probable to the probable,
there is room, at every step, for the influence of personal
feeling and partial judgment, and aversion to the truth,
to affect the force of proof to a very great degree. That,
in fact, it does this often, is a matter of familiar observation.  Moral evidence can have its proper force only when
the mind is open, fair, and honest; when divested of all
prejudice, and truly willing and desirous to follow in the
track of evidence, and to accept the results to which it
leads. Go to a young man who has acquired a love for
the exhilarating glass, but as yet does not indulge to
inebriety. Convince him of the danger of his habit-of
the moral certainty there is that, sooner or later, his course
will bring him to a dishonoured grave. To offer him
abundant proof that his path directly leads to such a termination, is the easiest thing imaginable; but actually to
convince him, is on the contrary one of the most difficult.
His appetite, his inclination, his habit already formed, so 
38  N1ATURE OF REASONING AND OF PROOF.
blind and pervert his judgment, that your reasoning, con elusive though it be, is powerless upon him. Go to a
person who is dishonest in his dealings, and daily puts in
his pocket the gains of secret fraud. Repeat to him the
adage that honesty is the best policy, as well as a high
duty, and exhibit to him the proof. Your reasoning is
sound and perfectly conclusive; but with him it has no
weight. He is under influences from the course of conduct
he pursues, which indispose his mind to receive conviction,
and which really neutralize the power of evidence. So it
may be in a thousand cases, so it may be in regard to all
the great and vital questions of religion. Just so far as
the mind, in its reasonings on these, is swayed by anything besides the love of truth; just so far as it is indisposed by any opinion, passion, or wishes of its own;-just
so far it is unfitted to appreciate the moral reasonings by
which they must of necessity be decided. It may be,
therefore, it is plain, that the fundamental truths of religion are, in fact, sustained by the highest and most
decisive moral evidence, and yet some persons may be in
such a state of mind in relation to these truths, that, to
them, this evidence shall be ineffectual and nugatory.
Those who are in a state of mind to see and appreciate
the proof, may rest in them a well-established faith, while
these, like men groping with shut eyes at noon-day, may
be dark and bewildered in their scepticism.
I have thus endeavoured to explain the nature and laws
of reasoning, so far as the general object we have in view
demanded. We have seen that there is an essential difference between demonstrative and moral reasoning, which
.I
I
I
I i 
NATURE OF REASONING AND OF PROOP.
limits the application of each to a certain class of subjects;
that moral reasoning may bring the mind to sure conclusions, no less than demonstration; that the great questions of religion do not admit of demonstration, but fall
wholly within the sphere of moral proof; and, finally,
that the force of this sort of proof will necessarily be very
much affected by the state of mind that prevails at the
time it is considered.
The most important practical bearing of these views on
the forming of religious opinions, will be shown in the
following discourse. There is not time to enter on it now.
I will simnply ask you. in closing for the present, to consider a moment how much is necessarily involved in the
work of forming your opinions rightly on the momentous
subjects pertaining to religion.  It is to be feared that too
many young persons, even among the more intelligent,
have little conception how great a work it is, anid how
much serious, careful thought and earnest application of
the mind is needed to accomplish it. Many of you, perhaps, have never once imagined that you had much to do
in relation to the matter. You have had a vague impression, not improbably, that the whole affair was of course
to be left to time and chance; and that you had only to
wait till you would see what these would bring. But if
it is true, as you now cannot but perceive, that there is
need of clear and accurate views as to the laws of reasoning, and of careful discrimination in applying them; if
the mode of settling truth demanded by religious subjects,
is that which supposes alike the highest activity and the
best preparation of the mind,-then the task you have on
39 
40   NATURE OF EASONIN  AND OF PROOF.
hand is great and arduous, and must be very seriously at tended tc, or it will not be accomplished. If your mind
is filled iiith questionings, you will not get permanent re lief, without serious and earnest thought, the use of such
helps as may lie within your reach, and especially an
honest, heartfelt, daily application to the Fountain of allwis dom, for divine illumination. It is always an unfavourable
symptom-alas, how often it appears!-when, along with
a state of doubt, there is seen an indisposition to sober
and candid inquiry, and a want of seriousness and prayer fulless of mind, and unmistakable signs of a prejudiced,
uncandid temper. Truth will not reveal herself in her
divine simplicity and beauty, her impressiveness and
majesty, to those who have so little appreciation of her
worth.
Does it seem to any of you too great a task to search
for divine wisdom in the way which has been indicated?
Are you unwilling to take the trouble to explore for yourselves, if doubts assail you, and that with an honest mind,
the ground on which it is safe for you to rest. Are you
inclined to save yourselves the pains of fair examination, to
give ear to the specious suggestions of those who manifest
an earnest desire to overturn the religious opinions which
have been cherished by the best and wisest of mankind,
and which have inspired their souls for noble deeds, and
have blessed them richly with inward peace, not only living, but even in death itself. The main truths of the
Christian religion have undeniably stood unshaken against
all attacks for near two thousand years. This, of itself,
affords a strong presumption that they are true, and is 
NATURBE OF REASONING AND OF PROOF.  41
sufficient to justify you in refusing to accept, without the
most thorough inquiry, the often superficial cavils of those
who would reject them. It is certainly reasonable to look
to the bottom of the matter if need be, and not to give
them up without the most decisive reasons.
Nor should any labour which may be needful in orderi
to reach the truth in matters of religion appear excessive.
What!  Is not your rational nature the grand distinction
of your being. -Is not the pursuit of truth, especially the
highest and most spiritual formIs of truth, the most worthy,
the very noblest employment of such a mind as yours X
Besides, what has become of those, ill general, who have'
been content, in indolent neglect, to leave their religious
views to be moulded by accidental influences 7  They
have fallen, by thousands, into the miseries of perpetual
doubt, and by thousands have perished in the inextricable
entanglements of error. There is no safe alternative.
You must learn the right mode of reasoning and apply it,
you must read and reflect, not only with diligence and
patience, but with a genuine honesty of mind; or you
cannot enjoy the pleasure and the peace of resting in clear
views, with an abiding satisfaction, but must run the
dreadful hazard of dying in the wilderness of falsehood
and delusion.
Can it be that there is one of us, who is so slothful and
senseless as not to be stirred by such considerations-who
will not think it worth his while to reserve a portion of
those hours now given to trivial reading and fruitless
thought, to be devoted in good earnest to the right study
of religion 7 You will, of course, if you are wise, obtain 
42   NATURE OF REASONING AND OF PROOF.
judicious counsel for the shaping of your inquiries, so far
as you may need it; but you will feel that you have personally a work to do. How can you be content, you
especially whose eyes are glowing with the hidden fires of
youth, and who feel in your bosoms the throbbings of an
inextinguishable life, till you are fully satisfied, if you
have been in doubt, whence you camnie, whither you are
going, for what you have a being, and which of all the
paths about you is for you the path of happiness and
duty? Attain a sure foundation in the great matter of
religion, and the infinite advantage will be yours. Neglect
or fail to do it, and the darkness, the perplexity, the anguish which will ultimately come, it must be for you in
your own persons to endure, without relief and without a
comforter.   Prove all things-hold fast that which is
good! 
RESPONSIBILITY OF MEN FOR THEIR OPINIONS. 43
III.
-of LRn for f~q g 4 plunons
JOHN iii. 18: He that believeth on him  is not condemned; but he that
believeth not is condemned already, because he hath lot believed in
the name of the only begotten Son of God.
VERY reader of the Scriptures is aware that belief in
Jesus Christ, and in those essential truths which
stand in immediate relation to human duty and happiness,
is there continually insisted on as an imperative duty. It
is so exhibited in the passage just recited. This is the
work of God, said our Lord himself, that ye believe on
him whom he hath sent. He that believeth shall be
saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned. Of
sin, because they believe not on me; as though their
unbelief were the very sum and essence of their sin.
To  say nothing now of the divine authority of the
Scriptures, we may observe that their style of teaching in
reference to the duty of believing what may be known as
true, is not at all peculiar. Every eminent moralist,
whether of ancient or modern times, whether in name a
heathen or a Christian, has taught the same doctrine as
to the duty of accepting the primary truths of religion
and morality; those truths, that is, in respect to which
the attainment of satisfactory conclusions was to be deemed
a practicable thing. It is a remarkable fact, certainy, 
RESPONSIBILITY OF MEN
and one worthy to be specially considered, that the wisest
and most candid men of all ages and all nations, when
they have addressed mankind with a view to their improvement, have with one consent assumed that the act of
believing, of assenting heartily to such moral and religious
truths as are or may be known, is a matter of positive
and solemn obligation-something which men are bound,
and may be authoritatively required to do. It would
seem that a thing so generally admitted to be true, and
that by the soundest and most thoughtful minds, must be
in itself nearly or quite self-evident, or at most, must
admit of easy proof.
Notwithstanding, however, this so general agreement
among the best teachers of mankind, there are many who
are unwilling to allow that belief can be a matter of
obligation, and unbelief a ground of blame. This, indeed,
is one of the most common subterfuges to which those
who are avowed rejectors of revealed religion, and whose
lives are at variance with its precepts, have been wont to
betake themselves. The well-known case of Lord Byron
affords an example in illustration. The wife of an English
clergyman saw his lordship at a place of public resort,
and filled with admiration of his brilliant pow-ers, was very
deeply affected at the thought of their perversion. Not
long after, she died; and her husband, on looking over
her private papers after her decease, found among them a
copy of a most simple and pathetic prayer in behalf of
the noble poet, in which she entreated that he might be
enlightened and guided from above, and learn to consecrate his extraordinary gifts to God.   The  husband
44 
FOR THEIR OPILVIONS.
enclosed this prayer in a letter to Byron, then at Pisa.
For the moment it obviously touched his heart; and his
acknowledgment of it is at once one of the most beautiful
and one of the most creditable things he ever wrote.   He
evidently felt the reality and the worth of such a piety as
that exhibited by the interesting stranger who had in
secret breathed out to Heaven for him so pure and fervent
a supplication; and he frankly confessed that the Christian believer had reason to be of all men most blessed.
To this confession, however, he adds immediately, "But
a man's creed does not depend upon himself. Who can
say, I will believe this, that, or the other? " This is the
ground on which he rested his defence of his unbelief and
its practical consequences, as exhibited in his life. He
persuaded himself that he had no responsibility for his
opinions. It was no fault of his, he thought, that they
were adverse to the Bible and its truths. He was merely
passive in the matter. He could not change his views
by an act of will.
We cannot better represent a class than.by this particular example. We are almost daily hearing the same
apology for doubt or error urged,-we are not responsible
for our opinions. We cannot help believing as we do.
We must believe according to the evidence we have.
This, too, is said with apparent sincerity and confidence,
and as if it admitted no reply. My present purpose is to
examine the validity of this apology. In order to do this,
let us look into it a little, and see what it assumes.
It is plain, in the first place, that those who assert that
they are not responsible for their opinions, assume it to
45 
RE,SPONSIBILITY OF MEN
be true that conviction in regard to religious truths must
he compelled; in other words, that the certainty of these
truths must be carried to the mind by evidence that is
literally irresistible, or else they cannot be believed.
They take it for granted that the law of belief is as simple
and invariable in its action as the law of gravitation.
Attraction  drives  the  body  to the  earth, without the
smallest influence of any choice, or the least room for any
responsibility on its part; evidence drives the mind to
fixed conclusions by a like invincible necessity, and with
the same absence of purpose or of will. Such is the view
they take.
But the truth of the matter is, that whatever of plausibility there may be in this assumption, arises from the
confounding of things that differ. It is plain that those
who make it, either designedly or through ignorance and
want of discrimination, confound entirely the two widely
liverse kinds of reasoning by which truth in general is
established, each having its own appropriate and exclusive
sphere, and being limited to a certain sort of truths.
These two dissimilar kinds of reasoning, you will remember, we endeavoured in the last discourse to distinguish
clearly from each other. In taking it for granted that
evidence in all cases must carry the conviction of the
mind with the force of a felt necessity, the persons in
question take it for granted, quite contrary to the fact,
as we have seen, that all valid reasoning is demonstrative,
and that no proof is conclusive except that which carries
the mind, wlth certainty at every step, to a result which
is absolutely necessary. Itf is indeed true, that in the
46 
FOR THEIR OPINIONS.
reasonings of the mathematician, if the process be correctly
carried forward, the steps are certain and the conclusion
irresistible; but this sort of reasoning, it was shown, is
applicable only to the relations of numbers and of quantity, not at all to the truths of religion. To these last, as
was explained, moral reasoning alone can rightly be
applied, in which, although complete conviction may be
reached, there is neither certainty in  all the steps,  nor
necessity in the conclusion. Let but the nature and the
laws of reasoning, therefore, just be clearly understood,
and it is seen at once to be wholly false that conviction
in relation to moral and religious truths must be compelled,
in a literal sense, and without regard to the particular
state of the mind itself.   No  religious inquirer has any
right to ask or wait for a kind of proof which is incompatible with the nature of the subject. Whoever does
this clearly shows that he himself is either disingenuous
and without an honest desire to learn, or else so careless
as not to have considered what evidence he ought to loot
for. Lord Byron very well knew that he, and all men,
daily formed conclusions the most positive and satisfying,
and that where great interests were at stake, without
anything like the evidence of demonstration-the evidence
that must produce the same conviction or certainty in
every mind, when rightly apprehended. He might have
known, had he properly reflected, that all he had a right
to ask was a sufficient amount of the same sort of evidence on which he acted in settling practical truth in the
common affairs of life. He either imposed upon himself,
therefore, or wished to impose on others by an insincere
47 
RESPONSIBILITY OP MEN
and sophistical evasion. The same must be true of all
who attempt to stand upon the plea that belief can come
only by irresistible necessity.
The assertion that men are not responsible for their
opinions assumes also, in the next place, that passion,
prejudice, and personal inclination and desires, have no
influence on the reasonings and judgments of the mind,
or else, that there is no responsibility attached to the
existence of these affections.
But is it true that the mind cannot be biased in its inquiries by its own passions, prejudices, and wishes? Will
any one seriously maintain a proposition so utterly at war
with every day's experience and observation, when once it
is distinctly stated?   Take  the case of the miser,  for
example. Why is it so difficult to convince him that it is
more blessed to give than to receive   Is it that evidence
is wanting of the essential meanness and the belittling
effects of avarice? Or is it that he is blinded by a passion that has gained full possession of his heart! You
have an enemy. Bring him, if you can, to do full justice
to your character and conduct, in those particulars in
which all others acknowledge them to be worthy of commendation.  What is the difficulty? IHlis bitterness of
heart, like stained glass that colours all the landscape,
allows him to see you only in false lights. It leads him
to prejudge whatever you say or do, and to condemn without inquiry. Your child comes to ask of you some indul
gence on which his heart is set. Your judgment and
experience decide at once that it is not proper to allow it.
Is it, then, easy to convince him?  Will he weigh impar
48 
FOR THEIR OPINIONS.
tia]ly your objections, with his own wishes on the other
side, and pleading urgently against you?   A villain is
about to commit a robbery or a murder. There are a hundred chances against one that he will be detected and
made to suffer punishment. How but through the deluding influence of his own desires and hopes, does he persuade himself that the chances are greatly in favour of
escape? So in a thousand cases that will readily occur.
If there is anything in respect to men that is daily exemplified and universally admitted in the common affairs of
life, it is this fact-that clear, convincing, ample evidence,
on any subject, is likely to avail but little, when addressed
to a mind whose prepossessions, feelings, and desires, are
all against it. There is sure to be a bias, in such circumstances, that is nearly or quite invincible.
But since all this must be admitted, it will possibly be
said, that for these states of their feelings and their wishes,
men are not to be held responsible, whatever their practical
influence may be. It may be urged that every man is
what he is, by the laws of his being, and by the force of
circumstances; and that the various biases which affect
the action of the mind, are therefore to be regarded as
inevitable-a misfortune and not a fault.
Pray, what then has become of man's voluntary nature?
Or in what sense is he an accountable creature and worthy
of blame or praise? If a person's ruling passions. his
habitual dispositions and desires, are not essential elements of moral character, in what does character essentially consist? If these do not depend for their existence
either directly or indirectly upon his will, what is there
49 
RESPOIVSIBILITY OF MEN
that does depend upon his will, except just the motion of
his muscles? If men are not responsible for their predominant passions, dispositions, and desires, then are they
under the absolute control of a stern, unbending fate; and
no more fit to be held accountable for what they do than
automata that move and speak when the master pulls the
wire. We can disown responsibility for those states and
habits of feeling by which our opinions and conduct are
determined, only by disowning the highest attributes of
our nature, and casting away the true glory of our being.
Besides, if it be indeed the truth, that men are not
responsible for the existence of those states of mind which
bias and pervert the judgment, it is a truth which ought
to be admitted and acted on in all other matters, as well
as in what concerns religion.  Admit it, then, in cases like
those to which we have referred. Admit that the miser
cannot help being what he is, and deserves no censure;
that your child is blameless when he quarrels with your
judgment; your enemy when he detracts from your wellknown merits; and the robber and the murderer when they
commit their deeds of darkness. In all these cases, it is
in the states of mind previously existing, that the false
judgments and the infatuation originate, which impel to
the wrong action; and plainly, if there be no responsibility
for the first, there can be none whatever for the last.
Such is the absurd result to which we come, if we affirm
that men are hot to be held responsible for their passions,
prejudices, and wishes. It makes them blameless, however bad may be their conduct.
It cannot, therefore, save us from being justly held
50 
FOR THEIR OPINIONS.
responsible for our opinions, that the force of evidence is
impaired, or neutralized, by our own improper states of
mind.   Whoever  brings to his religious inquiries  any
other than a humble, candid, willing mind-a mind that
honestly desires to know the truth, and is ready to receive
it though it should be painful in its nature-will be nearly
sure to be lost in error, and must take to himself the
blame of all the evil consequences he may suffer.
In the third place, the assertion that men are not to be
held responsible for their opinions, assumes yet further,
that they have no duty to perform in searching after evidence, and carefully weighing it when found.  If no evidence that is satisfactory presents itself, it is imagined
there can, of course, be no obligation to believe. If there
be a God, and he wishes that mankind should believe in
his being and attributes, and in other kindred truths, it
belongs to him, it is taken for granted, not merely to furnish the evidences of these things, but actually, by his
immediate agency, to set them in order before men's minds,
and to cause them to be thoroughly known and understood. The whole care of producing belief in this view
belongs to God.  It is something to be wrought in them,
without any toil or thought of theirs, as the sensation of
warmth is produced by the solar rays, or by the presence
of a fire.
But this view is wholly wrong. No one has any right
to take for granted, that if God wishes him  to believe
particular truths relating to himself, or to his service, he
will so set the evidence before his eyes that he cannot
choose but see it  It is one of the high distinctions of
4
51
I 
P,RESPONSIBILITY OF MEN
our being that our intellectual powers are specially adapted
to the pursuit of truth. The very constitution of our
nature thus indicates it as our duty to engage in this pursuit; to apply our minds, actively and earnestly, to the
work of investigation, as opportunity is offered. We need
no power to search for truth, to explore the sources of
proof, and push inquiry to its utmost limits, if our only
business is to believe when we canniot help it-when we
are actually overpowered with evidence collected for us by
other agency than ours and pressed on our passive minds.
Yet further, we may ask, How is it, as a matter of experience, in the manifold concerns of life in which our
interests are involved. In how many of all the cases in
which we form opinions, is it true that we have nothing
to do in collecting, arranging, and comparing evidence?
How large a part of the care and labour involved in almost
every important branch of business consists in doing these
very things 2.
Suppose, for example, you should call upon a farmer,
and find him quietly sitting in his house with folded hands
in the midst of seed-time; and that, on asking the reason
of his conduct, he should coolly tell you that he had no
opinion formed as yet as to what kind of grain was best
adapted to his soil; but that he was waiting for proof to
present itself and settle his uncertainty. Suppose you find
a merchant suffering his vessel to lie rotting at the wharf,
because not having done anything to ascertain the truth,
he has come to no conclusion as to whether or not it will
be best to despatch her on a voyage. You would surely
think that men who, in such affairs, should take such
52 
FOR THEIR OPINIONS.
ground, had either lost their senses, or. that they were
always fools. But how would the absurdity of such a
course be greater than that exhibited by one who, when
you ask him of his views in respect to God, religion, and
immortality, replies with unconcern that he has no settled
views about these things, and that he is quietly waiting
till evidence shall come to him, and settle finally his
doubts   What is there so peculiar in subjects of a religious nature, that the common rules of action are not to
be applied to them? That while the merchant, the farmer, and the artizan must set themselves, with diligence and enterprise, to collect and arrange the means of
settling their opinions, in their ordinary secular affairs, or
be regarded as having lost their sanity; they may go on
through life, doing nothing in good earnest to obtain the
evidence that should give them certainty as regards their
highest interests and duties,-those connected with religion-and incur no such suspicion? There is no reason
for any such distinction. The principle in each case, and
of course the folly, is the same. In all the great concerns
which involve our duty and our welfare,-in those of religion not less, certainly, than others,-we are under imperative obligations to do our utmost to lay hold of, and
thoroughly to understand the evidence on which correct
opinions must be founded. We must do this, or remain
in uncertainty, and quite probably endure the miseries
that result from fatal error.
Finally, when it is said that men are not responsible for
their opinions, it is obviously assumed that they lack
something, either light, or faculties, or opportunity, the
53 
RESPONSVBILITY OF MEN
giving of which is necessary to render them responsible.
If they want nothing which they now have not, to render
them responsible, then certainly they are responsible. We
need not stop to consider how far the responsibility of the
degraded and benighted portions of mankind may be
modified by their peculiar circumstances. We are speak ing, in all this discussion, of civilized men who live sur rounded with the means of culture and of knowledge. In
all cases, and of course in relation to religious subjects, it
is true that two things are necessary to the formation of
an intelligent opinion, namely, a proper amount of evidence,
and an amount of intellectual power which, if rightly
used, is sufficient to understand it. If on any subject, I
neither have, nor can have, any fit means of forming an
opinion, then all will of course agree that no obligati6n to
form one can possibly exist; and so likewise, incompetency,-the want of understanding to appreciate the force
of arguments,-must necessarily forbid the idea of any
such obligation. The plea of incompetency is not likely
to be urged. If men are competent to think, examine,
and decide in regard to other things, they are competent
to think, examine, and decide in regard to religious truth.
The plea of want of evidence, if urged in relation to the
essential truths pertaining to religion, is certainly not
valid. It would seem, apart from facts, utterly incredible
that no sufficient means of forming an opinion, either one
way or the other, should exist, where the matter is so
important; and then it is actually found that vast multitudes, and among them minds of the very highest order,
do recognise the leading doctrines both of natural and re
54 
FOR THEIR OPINIOiVS.
vealed religion, as being sustained by ample  proofsproofs which produce in them the most unwavering conviction. Those too who have examined most thoroughly
and with the greatest impartiality and candour, have borne
the strongest testimony to the fulness and completeness
of the testimony by which these primary doctrines are
established; while, on the contrary, those who allege a
want of proper evidence, are generally those who  have
exhibited the least of either diligence or candour in their
inquiries. That some, on the other hand, have decidedly
rejected the essential truths of religion cannot certainly be
urged as proof that no means of forming positive opinions,
could be found. They have found evidence, they profess,
ayainst the truth of what are deemed to be the first truths
of religion, and have settled their opinions on this basis.
There is really no want of evidence, therefore, to those who
will carefully and honestly inquire, even by the admission
of such as have rejected all religious truths. Those who
have received these truths, say they have found evidence
sufficient in their favour; those who reject them-that
they have found enough on the other side. According to
both, there is no lack of the means of forming settled
opinions, and nothing to justify a doubtful and unsettled
state. Since, therefore, there is nothing wanting in order
to make you, or me, or others about us responsible for our
opinions, we must be held responsible for these, as truly
as for our conduct. We have evidence within our reach;
and we may find and use it, if we will. There is nothing
in the way of any of us, but an indisposition to apply
ourselves, with a serious purpose and an honest mind;
55 
RESPOirSPYBILITY'OF-MEN
and this surely cannot relieve us from the obligation to
find the truth and to embrace and liold it.
It appears then, upon the whole, that the position that
men are not responsible for their opinions as regards the
main truths of religion, will not stand the test of a fair
examination. It is based on assumptions that are false.
It overlooks the difference between demonstrative and
moral reasoning; the influence of the moral state of the
mind upon its judgments; the need there is of care and
pains in order to arrive at truth; and the fact that, at
least those who are reared in the midst of Christian civilization, have both intellect and evidence enough, if they
will rightly use them in the search for truth, to enable
them to reach it. All this we have clearly seen.
When, therefore, it is said that "a man's creed does not
depend upon himself,"-the reply is, that in the sense in
which it is meant to be understood, the assertion is not
true. It is plain that those who put in this plea are
either self-deceived, or else willing to use this shield
against what they know too well to be the shafts of truth.
The means of knowledge being given, and the ability to
examine and decide, it does depend on every man to determine whether he, as an individual, will know the truth
or not. If, for want of due reflection, we ask for demonstration where the nature of the case does not admit it,
and refuse to believe without, we must take the blame of
doing it. If we suffer our personal feelings and desires to
warp and blind us, when we ought to be single minded, we
must take the blame of doing it. If we are too indifferent or too heedless to examine the proofs that actually
56 
FOR THEIR OPINIONS.
exist and may be found by proper effort, we must take the
blame of doing it.  If we wait for something to be done
for us, or something to be given us, to fill up the measure
of our responsibility, when nothing really is wanting, we
must take the blame of doing it.  It would be just as
near the truth to say that a man's actions do not depend
upon himself, as to affirm this of his opinions in respect
to the more elementary religious truths.
"But who can say"-it is asked-" I will believe this,
that, or the other?" Observe the sophistry involved in
this inquiry-as though there could be no way of doing
voluntarily, and in the use of our own powers, what cannot be done by a simple act of will! Suppose it were
pressed on me as a duty to visit, for some good purpose,
a distant place, and that I should answer, "Who can say
I will be in this, that, or the other place"-as if I supposed it meant that I should put myself there at once by
simply willing it.  You would justly pronounce it a mere
quibble; for no one would think of asking me to do any
such thing as that. I cannot, indeed, transport myself to
a distant place by an effort of my will; but I can use my
powers and means to go, if I am so disposed. I cannot
will myself directly into the belief of any truth; but I
can rightly use my powers and means to come to a clear
conviction of it. This makes me just as much responsible
for my belief, as though I could will belief, as directly as
I will to lift my arm. So common sense does certainly
decide.
It is altogether in vain, then, that we endeavour to comfort ourselves in a state of doubt or error, -with the per
57 
RESPO.VSIBILITY OF MEN
suasion that we are not responsible for our opinions. We
are responsible!  In matters of such moment as religion;
on questions of such magnitude as those relating to the
existence and attributes of God, the immortality of the
soul, and the reality of re —lation; to the great rules of
human duty, the way of being permanently happy, and
the certainty of future retribution; there must be mean2
of arriving at fixed conclusions-we cannot think it otherwise without doing violence to our own reason and the
instincts of our own souls-and it must be a high abuse
of our rational endowments, to neglect or to misuse these
means.
If any of you say that you have not hitherto been able,
and are not able now, to reach results that satisfy you,
then you are bound to show beyond all doubt that the
fault is not in you-that you have approached religious
subjects as you ought, and without prejudice or bias, have
done your utmost to come to fixed and just conclusions.
Can you say this, 0 doubter, if there be one such in this
assembly? Do you not rather feel in the depths of your
secret soul, on the bare proposing of the question, that
you have been most culpably neglectful and careless in the
matter? Within yourself, then, lies the difficulty. Until
with a truly childlike, open, earnest mind, you have tasked
your highest powers and failed, you cannot rid yourself of
the vast responsibility of being firmly fixed in right religious opinions. God, who has given you such power of
thought, such inward light of reason, and such outward
means of knowledge-who every day and hour is speaking
to you, through all the beauty, and wisdom, and grandeur
58 
FOR THEIR OPI.NIONVS.
of the universe; in the stupendous march of his eternal
Providence; in the monitions of conscience, and the deep
instinctive yearning of your immortal nature; and, as the
wisest and the best of all mankind believe, in a positive revelation, by which a glorious stream of light from out the
ineffable splendours of his throne, has fallen on your way,
and a voice of infinite sweetness from the bosom of his
love has spoken to your soul-this God, who knows you,
and cares for you, and will sit at last to judge your conduct, according to all that he has done to elevate and bless
you-must hold you, does hold you, will hold you in the
day of his great award of retribution, responsible for your
belief, or unbelief, in relation to his being and your duty
as his creature.   He bids you search for wisdom as for
rubies, and promises divine illumination to all who
humbly ask it.   It is for you then  to determine, as
you will answer for yourself to ilim, whether you will
know and love the truth and be the children of the light
-" Faith is the subtle chain
That binds us tothe Infinite; the voice
Of a deep life within that will remain
Until we crowd it thenwe "
59 
60     1! PRAOTICA; VALUE 0OF' OPINIONS.
IV.
PROY. xxiii. 23: Buy the truth and sell it net.
T is a saying of our blessed Lord himself, that the chil     dren of this world are wise in their generation.  By
this he meant that, in the common affairs of life, they exhibit shrewdness and discernment in consulting their own
interests. If there be anything which they regard as
valuable and believe to be within their reach, they spare
no pains or effort in order to obtain it; and when once
they have satisfied themselves that any particular possession will be of permanent advantage, they are ready to
buy it at any price, and when bought, they steadily refuse
to part with it again. This is sound worldly wisdom;
sound wisdom, that is, in regard to worldly things.
Precisely the same course the wisest of men enjoins in
relation to the acquiring and the retaining of the truthof all truth, but more especially that which directly pertains to the highest and most enduring welfare of mankind.
Truth of this sort is of inestimable value. It is a pearl
of great price; more precious than rubies; and he is the
happiest of men who buys, never to sell it again, although
he part with all he has to make the purchase.  This, on
the bare statement, would seem to be too obvious to be
insisted on in the way of argument. One would as soon
Af~t vrarfiral valut of Opinions. 
THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF OPINIONVS.
expect to hear the worth of gold and diamonds disputed,
as to hear any question raised as to the worth of religious
truth.
But there is hardly anything so plain in respect to
human duty, that a wrong state of moral feeling may not
cause it to be doubted, or even to be denied; and strange
as it may seem, it is an everyday occurrence to hear the
value of truth itself disputed. It is common to hear those
who are drifting about in loose uncertainty, gravely
advance the sentiment that religious opinions, convictions,
as to what is true and real in matters of religion, are of
but very little consequence; and having in the last discourse shown the futility of the plea that men are not responsible for their opinions, we will now examine the
kindred allegation that opinions are of no practical importance.  It is usually stated thus: "It is no matter what
a man believes, if his life is only right." The assertion
sounds as familiar, and even trite, as though it were one
of the plainest imaginable truths; and yet it will appear
on examination to be one of the most glaring and selfevident of falsehoods. It will be seen to be very much as if
it should be said, "It is no matter whether a man have
eyes or not, provided only that he can see!"  To act
right without knowledge is hardly less a practicable thing,
than to see without the proper organs.
For consider what is necessary to be done in order to
prove the position true that it is no matter what a man
believes on religious subjects if his life be right. It must
be shown either, first, that there are no certain truths pertaining to religion; or else, secondly, that these truths
61 
62     THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF OPINIONS.
have no necessary connection with the conduct of men;
or else, thirdly, that the consequences of their conduct,
whether right or wrong, will be the same.
We ask, then, in the first place, how it can be shown
that there are, in religion, no fixed, unchangeable facts;
that there is no nature and constitution of things which
exists as positive reality?   In  physical science-the
science of material nature-it is acknowledged that there
are facts, truths, laws; and is it to be believed, is it in any
way capable of proof, that in the universe of mind and the
sphere of moral science, there are no such things-no
realities, or at least none that can be known? Pray, let
us have the proof, you who take this remarkable position.
It will be very singular indeed, should you be able to
make out, that while there are indisputable certainties in
all other departments of our knowledge, there are none in
that which includes the spiritual nature and relations of
our being, and our best and highest, because our eternal,
interests. Let us look at the matter a little in detail, in
order that what we mean may be clearly understood.
We  will draw an' illustration  from  commerce.   You
have great interests, we will suppose, involved in this.
You freight your ships for distant places and dispatch
them, calculating, under certain conditions, on such and
such results.   In this affair there are, you  very well
know, certain fixed and unalterable facts, or truthsthings which can be known definitely and fully. As to
the sea, for example, it is a fact that it has a determinate
shape and size; that it has its ebb and flow of tides; that
it has its Gulf Stream, and other well-known currents;
A 
THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF OPI.~IO.S.
that rocks and shoals are hidden in its bosom; and that
its condition is variously affected by the action of storm
and wind. As to the winds themselves it is a fact that
in some regions they are variable, in others constant in
their direction; that at some seasons and in some places,
they are sure to be tempestuous, and in others certain to
be calm; that at one time the land breeze may be counted
on, and at another the opposite; and lastly, that the rise
or fall of the barometer betoken particular changes of
the weather. As to the ship, in any given case, she is
known to have a certain capacity, or to be of a certain
burthen; her sails and rigging have a certain relation to
her size; she requires, with a given freight, a certain
depth of water; with a certain amount of pressure she
will attain a particular speed; and a certain number of
hands are required to man her. She carries a chart; it is
the result of careful and accurate surveys. She has a
compass; it obeys a well-known law with certain slight
variations that have been ascertained and noted. And so
we might go on.
Let it be observed, then, that in so ordinary a matter
as the sending of a ship to a foreign port, all these, and
many other things, are recognised as necessarily existing
facts. They are involved in the very nature of the transaction. They are the truths pertaining to the case; and
should any one assert to you that in this commercial enterprise there were  no facts or truths involved, you
would simply think him wanting in common sense.
But here are multitudes of intelligent creatures who
have entered on the great arena of existence. Trley must
63 
64    THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF OPINIONS.
think, they must feel, they must act, they must permanently enjoy or suffer. They have a conscious capacity for
religious responsibilities; a conscience which recognises
the difference between right and wrong, and feels the
obligation of the former; and a sense of dependence and of
restlessness within the heart, which seems to be the expression of  constitutional religious wants.   As  these
beings could not have given themselves existence, they
acknowledge a Creator. As they are frail and in many
respects helpless, they naturally conceive themselves to be
connected with him as objects of his care and providence.
It seems a reasonable thought that they must owe him
some important duties, that he must have had some object in giving them existence, and must, of course, have
some choice as to what they shlall be anid do. It is difficult for them not to think that it must make some difference in their feelings and condition, whether they act
according to his design, or in opposition to it, and whether
their religious cravings are satisfied or not. Therefore it
would appear as though there are, of necessity, implied in
the very existence and relations of these creatures certain
definite and most essential facts, certain things which are
true and real, and may be ascertained and known to be so.
But you will have it that there are no realities in
matters of religion; no facts, that is, which exist in the
nature of things and which may'be either revealed or laid
open to observation. Then clearly it belongs to you to
show, to prove beyond dispute and against the reason, and
consciousness, and common sense of men, that there is no
Creator, that man is not a dependent creature, that he has 
THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF OPIVIONS.
no spiritual nature. that his moral instincts and judgments
are all alike illusive, that he has no moral obligations of
any sort whatever, and that there is no difference between
right and wrong. These appear to be the primary facts of
religion just as the existence of the sun and planets, with
their mutual relations and the law of gravitation, are the
primary facts of astronomy. Disprove the existence of the
sun, and planets, and gravitation, and astronomical science
will be effectually demolished. Disprove the being of God
and of the soul, their relations to each other, and the
essential distinction between moral good %nd evil, and you
will as effectually demolish all religion. You will hardly
undertake to do so much so this. Nothing but sheer atheism, and that but very rarely, has attempted to go so far.
It is plain that the very notion of religion supposes
certain things to be true, as matters of fact and as being
necessarily recognised as true and real, unless religion itself be abjured as a chimera. Man has a certain moral
nature, he has certain moral relations, these give rise to
certain duties, and his actions, considered as right or
wrong, are connected with certain fixed results. These
facts, as existing in the nature of things, are not changed
by our misapprehensions and wrong beliefs about them
when  we  wander  into  error.    They  are  unalterable
realities. There are such realities in the moral world not
less than in the natural.
We come, then, to the other side of the alternative. We
ask, in the second place, how it can be shown that the
actually existing facts, the real truths in regard to the
religious interests and obligations of mankind have no
65 
66    THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF OPINIONS.
necessary connection with their moral conduct? This is
what is taken for granted in the plea for unsettled, or
wrong opinions, which we are now considering. When it
is said that it is no matter what a man believes, if his life
be only right, it is said, in effect, that a man's belief has
no10 determining influence on his conduct; that his opinions,
his views of truth, are one affair, and his actions quite
another; for if opinions do influence the conduct, do even,
as the rule at least, determine it, then it is not and cannot be true that it is immaterial what they are.
Let us go back to our commercial illustration. Let us
see how it would answer to assume in the supposed affair
of dispatching a vessel to a foreign port, that it is no matter what a man believes. Let us see whether there is not
of necessity an inseparable connection between the opinions
of the master of the vessel and his conduct-whether his
views of facts can be radically wrong, and yet his course
of conduct be all right. How is it, then? Your captain
has a fixed belief as to the distance he has to run, as to
the strength and direction of the currents, as to the position of banks and ledges, as to the laws which regulate
the wind and weather, as to the capacities of his ship and
the supplies which he requires, as to the correctness of
his chart and the accuracy of his compass. He has certain established opinions or convictions in respect to all
these and many similar things. What think you, thenhave his opinions, or have they not, an influence on his
conduct? Do they, or do they not, affect his mode of
planning and executing the voyage to be performed?
Apply the adage-It is no matter what he believes, if his 
THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF OPINIONS.
conduct be but right!  Ah, yes! but let him believe the
opposite of what is actually true. Let him honestly believe that his proper course is east when really his port
lies west; let him entertain the opinion that thie prevailing currents are setting southward, when in fact they are
setting to the north; let him persuade himself that his
ship is twice as strong as she is in truth, and that she
draws but half the water that she actually does; let him
have confidence in an inaccurate chart, and adopt too little
or too much as the variation of the needle. With these
views, which are directly contrary to the facts, will his
conduct-can his conduct by any possibility be thle same
as if he believed in accordance with the facts q Will not
his opinions determine his conduct in the case, and of
necessity make it wrong? Can any one suppose, without
a sense of the absurdity of such a supposition, that his
actions can be right as regards his voyage, while his
opinions, his judgment as to essential facts, are altogether
wron,g.
But in matters of religion, it may be said, the case is
different. Pray be so kind as to tell us how, if you are
able. The soul is certainly a thing which las a nature
and qualities of its own, as truly as a ship.  It is just as
truly fitted for some purposes, and unfitted for others, by
its very constitution.  It is made capable of finding happiness in certain things, and not in others. In a certain
course of action its faculties expand; it rises in the scale
of being, and seems to exist for a noble end; in an opposite course it degenerates and grovels, and appears to live
for no important purpose. It is competent to know God
5
67 
68    i,HE PRACTICAL VALUE OF OPINIONS.
and to love and obey him; and when it does this it has
peace within itself. When it fails to do this, it feels inwardly dissatisfied and restless; and generally, in the
doing of what is right it has a sense of pleasure, and in
the doing of what is wrong a consciousness of pain.
These are existing facts in respect to the human soul, considered as having a moral nature and relations. Take
any individual man, these facts are true of him; and we
will suppose that he believes them fully. He believes
that he has a responsible soul; that it must find its happiness in a certain way, or not at all; that right and wrong
are immutably distinct, the one connected necessarily with
pleasure, and the other as necessarily with pain; that
God as his Creator, and as the infinitely Wise and Good,
is entitled to his love and his obedience, and will reward
or punish him, according as he renders these, or not. Is
it conceivable that the belief of these should have no influence on his conduct? Believing them with firm conviction, will his course of living be just the same, as if
he did not believe them?   Is it just the same, so far
as his actions are concerned, whether he believes that he
has an immortal nature, or believes that he has none X
whether he thinks that the love and pursuit of what is
pure and good will make him happy, or of what is corrupt
and evil? whether he concludes that he is accountable
to God and a subject of reward or punishment, or that he
has no responsibility at all 2 whether he thinks that virtue
and vice are moral opposites, or that there is nothing to
choose between them? This is what you say, however
unconsciously, when you assert that it is no matter what 
THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF OPINIONS.6.
a man believes, if his life be only right. You say that
his opinions have no relation to his life. You say that in
order to act according to the nature of his soul, it is no
matter whether he believes that he has a soul! That in
order to do right it is no matter whether he believes that
there is any such thing as right! That in order to meet his
responsibilities to God, it is no matter whether he believes
that he is responsible at all, or even whether there be a God
or not! A man's opinions and his life are wholly independent of each other. His opinions may be all wrong,
all contrary to the actual facts, and his course of action
none- the less all right!
What, then, we would like to be informed, determines
a man's course of action; what leads him to act as he does
act, if his views of things do not? A thoughtful child
can see that it is a man's views of things, his opinions,
what he believes, that mainly determines his character
and conduct, and make his course of life just what it is.
When appetite and inclination draw men away to evil,
they do this mainly through their perverting influence on
the judgment persuading them to accept the false as true
-to believe wrong and then act wrong. To talk of a
man's believing wrong, as to essential truths or facts, and
at the same time acting right, is to talk absurdly. It
is of the highest moment that a man's belief accord
with the reality of things, because unless it does, he
cannot act according to the reality of things; his life
cannot be right. It may possibly be right in its outward
seeming, but in its real spirit and aims, it will be wrong.
But since it cannot be denied, with any show of reason,
69 
70    rHE PRAC TICAL VAL UE OF OPI_ U.
that a man's actions depend essentially on his opinions,
and will be mainly determined by them, the third alternative may be adopted. It may be said, it has been often
said, that if one only thinks that he is acting right, it will
make no difference in the end, the result to him will be
just the same, whether he really acts right or not. If a
man believe wrong, and act wrong in the whole moral
ordering of his life, so he do this but sincerely, no serious
harm will follow. In some way or other it will come out
about as well as if he had believed and done precisely
what hlie ought.
But what is this, when you examine it, but the palpably
false assertion that actions have no natural and necessary
consequences? Actions are causes, whose effects follow
with the certainty of inexorable law, according to the
established moral order of the universe. It is a part of
the nature of things, that believing right and acting right,
each human being will certainly reap the rewards of his
well doing; but that believing wrong and acting wrong,
each must inevitably encounter the consequences of his
error. It is this that gives its highest importance to a
man's religious belief. As that determines his character
and conduct, so it must finally determine his destiny of
happiness or woe.
We have only to try the notion that the consequences
of right and wrong action may be in the end the same, in
any concern of common life to see how absurd it is. Refer again, if you please, to commerce. If ever so sincerely,
your captain believes that Cuba lies in the Mediterranean
sea or in the Indian Ocean, will he therefore find it there I 
THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF OPINIONS.
If he sincerely thinks that there are five fathoms of water
on a bar, when in fact there is but one, will that prevent
the striking of his vessel. Or if it is his opinion that
his cable is sound and strong when really it is rotten, will
that prevent him, when the tempest rages, from being
swept from his moorings and dashed a wreck upon the
rocks? If he does not regard the facts as they actually
exist, there is nothing that can prevent the consequences
of his ignorance. The case is in no wise different in the
matter of religion.  In this, as in other things, facts are
facts whatever we may think about them. If sin by the
nature of things does lead to misery, and a man ever so
sincerely believes that it leads to happiness, it will lead
to misery still. If a man build his house-the edifice of
his immortal hopes-on the shifting sand, persuading
himself that he builds on solid rock, it will none the
less for his sincerity in error, fall with a terrible destruction, when the rain descends, and the winds blow, and the
floods come. If a man convince himself that he can live
without God and be happy, while it is true that God alone
can meet his spiritual wants, he will yet be sure to feel at
last the anguish of an empty and wretched heart. Such
is the nature of things, and such it will be, whatever one
believes. Is it, then, no matter what a man believes? Is
it just as safe and just as well at last, to be in error as to
understand the truth-to act against the laws of our own
nature and of the moral universe, as to act in accordance
with them?  If so, the more complete the blindness and
delusion in which men sink and keep themselves the
better; for they escape by this means all anxiety about
i11 
72      THE PRACTICAL VALUE OP OPIrNIONS.
the truth, and in the end come off as well. A conclusion
so abhorrent to reason and right thinking, who can be
willing to admit?
The result, then, to which we are brought is this: that
it is not to be expected that the conduct, the lives of men,
will he-inaterially better than their opinions. Of course,
in all that we have said, we have intended to refer, not to
the opinions men profess, but to the actual living convictions of their minds. These, we have seen, do stand in
direct and determining relation to their actions; and their
actions to certain natural and necessary consequences, so
that it may be said, with little qualification, that a man's
religious opinions, his real views of religious truth, do in
fact decide his character and fix his destiny, as a moral
and accountable being; that as these are true or false, the
man, in any case, will be good or bad in his moral conduct,
and happy or miserable in his ultimate condition.
It is plainly, therefore, an imperative duty to set a high
value upon truth in our religious thinking.   Of what
vast importance it is seen to be, that your religious opinions should not only be firmly fixed, but that they should
also be riyh7t opinions!-As it is indispensable to the welfare of the body that you have right opinions as to what
is wholesome food and what is poison, what exercise and
regimen are salutary and what sure to prove pernicious,
even so, you perceive, it is in relation to the soul. Acting
on the false and dangerous maxim that it is no matter
what a man believes, you are every moment liable to embrace such errors as will, by their practical influence and
effects, poison the fountains of your immortal happiness 
THE PRACOTICAL VAL U OF OPINIONS.
and prostrate the health and vigour of your immortal
powers. If on the great voyage of existence you trust a
lying chart, a deceitful compass and a treacherous pilot,
nothing can  save you from  the woes of fatal wreck.
Wrong ways lead infallibly to ruin, whatever they may
think that travel in them. Right ways lead infallibly to
safety, whatever they may think that turn their backs
upon them.   Be  sure,  my  fellow-mortal,-since your
duty and your personal well-being alike demnand it of
you,-be sure that in forming your religious opillios you
dig deep and build on the rock of eternal truth.
But perhaps the thought, or at least the feeling, arises
in your mind, that it is too much trouble to ascertain the
truth. You have done nothing hitherto, in serious earnest,
towards learning what it is, because there is so much to
be done. Strange apathy and inconsistency, where so
much is at stake! The artizan cannot rest till he learns
all the important facts about his art. The merchant
never faints in his efforts to find out all the principles and
laws of trade. The farmier perseveres till he has informed
himself on all important points about his farm. But in
respect to God and immortality-to the nature, relations,
and destiny of the ever-living soul within you, you are
content to be in ignorance, and to think nothing on the
subject, or only in the w-ay of idle speculation! In this way
some of you may have lived for many years. God has
given you ample means, instructions, books, and wise religious counsellors, yet here you are, in the same condition
still, all uncertainty and doubt, and, strangest of the whole,
quite unconcerned about your state!
73 
74    THE PRACTICAL VALUE OF OPII'ONS.
But, mtie the meanwhile-I beg you to consider it has not been standing still. It has been silently sweeping
on with a mighty current towards the shadows of the un seen world, and bearing you forward on its bosom.   Yet
a little longer, and even for you who are in the strength
of your early years, eternity will open with the expanse
of its everlasting ages. It will find you as you are, the
children of darkness and not of light, unless you bestir
yourselves right soon; and oh! rely upon it, you will
find at last, that there are real facts pertaining to your
soul, and to its duties and destinies for ever, which it was
of infinite importance for you to have known betimes.
You will see clearly then that the difference between religious truth and error, was as wide as that between eternal life.and death-between heaven itself and hell. See
to it, I pray you, that you have not then to look back,
Niith the anguish of a bitter self-reproach, on neglected
opportunities, and an unprofitable and wasted life.
Ah-the truth!-the truth in relation to ourselves, our
duty, our happiness, as the rational creatures of God-it
is indeed the richest of all gems!  Buy it, you who are
young-buy it all of you, at any price, and never let it
go.  Error will sooner or later perish; and they who trust
in it will perish with it.  But TRUTH shall change and
pass away, only when God himself shafll die! 
BBLIBF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
V.
PIs. xiv. 1: The fool hath said in his hear+, There is no God.
A BELIEF in God, as a self-existent, intelligent, and
infinitely perfect Being, is the basis of all religion.
Law, supposes a lawgiver; accountability, a governor and
judge; and worship, a real object of affection and devo.
tion. If there were no God, there would be, to the human
race, no right and wrong, no feeling of moral obligation,
no virtue, no vice, no piety; nothing to constitute a moral
nature, or to call forth moral action. The sole impulses
which could operate to move men, on such a supposition,
would be instinct, and expediency considered in reference
to self-interest.
It is not, however, enough, that we admit the divine
existence.   It is highly desirable, not only to entertain a
firm conviction that God exists, but also clearly to understand, if possible, in what manner, or through what
means, we come by this conviction. On this point there
has been  mu   ch liscussion, anc  wilely different views,
among the philosophers and thinking men fo every age.
Some have maintained the idea of God to be innate; as
Cicero for example, who says: * Omnibus enim irznaturnm
I De Natuia Deorum, b. ii., cap. xii.
75
wtiztf ien f4t Nting of 6,ob. 
76      BELIEF 1N THE BEING OF GOD;
est, et in animo quasi insculptum-that it is inborn in all
men, and as it were engraven on the mind.   Others have
asserted the divine existence to be an intuition-an im mediate perception of the reason, independently of any
suggestion, argument, or evidence. By others again, it
has been attempted to establish it by the rigid steps of
mathematical demonstration. Nearly all agree that the
constitution and the course of nature suggest an infinite
intelligence; and it has also been insisted, more especially
by Kant and those who have followed him, that the moral
nature of man-his conscience and sense of moral obligation-affords conclusive proof of the being and moral
government of God.
That a belief of the divine existence is innate, in the
proper sense, the soundest philosophy forbids us to
believe. That the truth that there is a God is strictly
and purely an intuition, does not by any means appear.
It is likewise pretty generally conceded that the proposition does not fall within the province of mathematical reasoning, and that the so-called demonstrations of it have
in fact been failures. We believe the true statement of
the matter to be this: That the human mind is constitutionally.fitted to know God,-so that the notion of him,
and a persuasion of his existence, necessarily arise within
the soul whenever the faculties are in any good degree
developed; and that in its own moral consciousness, and in
a great variety of facts and phenomena external to itself,
it finds, on reflection, proofs that he does exist,-proofs
of a moral nature, yet sufficient to establish the fact as an
absolute certainty, in the view of the understanding. 
BELIEF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
Such being the facts in relation to this great question.
it is plain that the force of the evidence of the divine existence does not depend on any single proof or mnode of
argument considered by itself, but, as in other cases of
moral or probable reasoning, on the entire impression
which all proofs that can be gathered from all sources, are
adapted to produce when taken in combination. Our
proper method is, to avail ourselves of every fact and
every circumstance which has the least significance; to
seize on the slightest intimations of a Deity, as well as on
the most palpable and convincing attestations of his
being; and in this way to accumulate our evidence till it
rises before us like one vast mountain, commanding in its
aspect, and for ever immovable on its firm foundations.
In accordance with this view, it is proposed in this discourse to call your attention to certain generally admitted
facts, which cannot but have great weight, if seriously and
candidly considered, as they bear, especially when taken
together, on the question of the divine existence.
First of all, it is a well-known fact, that the idea of God
and of spiritual existence is, and has always been, nearly
or quite universal among mankind.
Among all nations which have attained to any good
degree of civilization, the idea of God, or of gods, one of
whom was above the rest, has been perfectly familiar.
The most barbarous and degraded even, who in some instances have seemed, on a slight acquaintance with them, to
have no such conception, have been found, on further examination, to entertain it. Along with the idea of God has
been found also that of a spiritual world, and of spiritual
77 
78       BELIEF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
existence and agency, in a variety of forms. iHence the
mythologies, some of them highly poetical and beautiful, which grew up under the polished culture of the
Greeks and Romans, and the more grotesque and fanciful
systems of Oriental nations. It is, doubtless, true that
among the less enlightened portions of mankind the notion
of God has been extremely gross and every way defective.
Forasmuch as they have not liked to retain God in their
knowledge, they have become vain in their imaginations,
and their foolish hearts have been darkened. But of this
we have no occasion now to speak. It is the fact that this
idea, in any degree of development whatever, should so
universally prevail that claims our present notice, and requires an explanation. How shall it be accounted for in
a way to satisfy the thoughtful mind? Whence comes it
that the whole human race appear to be under a kind of
constitutional necessity of forming and entertaining an idea
to which  there exists no  object-no  reality-to  correspond? If there is a God, the infinite and intelligent
Creator of all things, it is but natural, in the view of enlightened reason, that man should be so made, and his circumstances so arranged, that some notion of the Great
Author and Preserver of his being should necessarily arise
within his soul. But say that there is no God, and it appears wholly unaccountable-a phenomenon without a
cause-that such a conception, more or less imperfect as
the case may be, should be found to spring up, as if by a
moral instinct, in every human bosom.
It is equally a matter of common observation that the
more thoughtful, and especially the more virtuous men 
BELIEF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
are, the more, as the general rule, they are disposed to
cherish the idea of a supreme Being.
It will be admitted that the more the mind is addicted
to serious reflection and inquiry after truth, and the more
pure and virtuous it is in its tastes and dispositions, the
nearer it approaches to its true normal state-that is, to
the state of right and healthful action to which it is constitutionally adapted. Or to put the same thing differently,
everybody will allow that just in proportion as men are
intelligent and good they are likely to be free from perverting influences, and clearly to perceive truth as it actually is. It would not seem a strange thing that mind in
an abnormal condition, disordered through ignorance and
vice, should be led to entertain erroneous and unfounded
notions; but if that which appears to be the truth to mind
in its highest and best condition, and which is found
universally to become the more certain to it, the more and
the better it investigates, may after all be only an illusion,
then there can be no such thing as positive truth, nothing
of real unquestionable knowledge within the reach of man.
When, therefore, we observe that to serious thinkers
and the lovers of true virtue, in all ages and among all
nations, the idea of God has been not only a familiar, but
a favourite idea-that, generally, the conviction of the
existence of all infinitely perfect Being has been clear and
strong in proportion as the intelligence has been superior
and the virtue unequivocal, we are plainly in this dilemma
-that we must deny the certainty of human knowledge
altogether, or else we must believe that there is substantial
evidence that such a being does actually exist.  Either we
79 
80       BELIEF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
are so constituted that in the best use of our highest
faculties we are naturally led to believe and love a falsehood, or else there is, in the existence of a supreme Being,
a personal God, an objective reality, corresponding to the
idea which the enlightened mind is disposed to entertain,
and to the belief in which it feels itself the more constrained to rest, the more elevated and pure are its affections, and the more liberal and profound its knowledge.
It is also a fact not to be disputed, that a belief in the
existence of a God has always been found exceedingly difficult to be eradicated.
Notwithstanding that, as already noticed, the notion of
a supreme Being appears to arise naturally in the minds of
all men who have any intellectual culture, there have still
been professed atheists in every age.  But in relation to
these there are two things to be particularly observed.
The first is, that it has always been apparent that they
established themselves in the disbelief of the divine existence, only after great, and usually long-continued, striving
against an inward conviction of the probability, at least, of
the being of a God.   They have shown  how strong was
the tendency of their minds towards theism, by their
eagerness to find out arguments against it, and by their
readiness to lay hold of any that could be made to seem
available, even though they were really sophistical and
weak. They have, in general, very obviously found it
difficult to keep their minds at rest in a state of disbelief
to such a degree as to relieve them from the constant necessity of labouring to fortify themselves in their position.
The other thing deserving notice in respect to those pro 
BEI,IEF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
fessing atheism is, that when they had seemed to be confirmed in the rejection of the doctrine of a God, it has
often happened that the influence of some comparatively
trifling circumstance or argument has been sufficient to
neutralize entirely their unbelief almost in a single mnoment; and the conviction that there must be, or certainly
that there may be a deity after all, has come back upon
their minds with overwhelming power. When they had
pronounced the idea of God a mere chimera, and h,rd
imagined themselves for ever emancipated from the superstition of admitting it, they have found that there still
seemed to be a something, in the deep recesses of the
soul, that would sometimes whisper the unwelcome
thought with a startling distinctness, and make it seem,
at least for the time, an unquestionable reality.  I once
found, in a meeting for religious inquiry, an intelligent
young man whom  I had never seen before.  He seemed
to feel intensely. Seating myself by his side, I asked in
what state of mind he was.   "0 sir," said he, "I do
not know myself. I was an atheist a little while ago, or
thoughlt I was, but now it has all gone from me. I feelI know-now that there is a God!"  Many such instances
occur-sometimes under the influence of revivals of religion, sometimes in the season of affliction, in the moment
of danger, or in the hour of death. They are impressive
illustrations of the difficulty with which a belief in the
divine existence can be totally eradicated, when once developed in the mind. They make it clear that the most
confirmed atheist can never be quite sure that he will
not find his unbelief forsaking him, just when he will
81
,,A 
BELIEF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
want it most, and the unwelcome conviction which he had
thought for ever banished returning on him with overwhelming force.
How,  then, shall we account for this?   Some good
reason certainly there must be, for this great difficulty,
universally experienced, in attempting to rid the mind in
which the idea of God has been developed of a conviction
of his existence. The phenomenon cannot be accidental;
it exhibits too much of the constancy of established law.
To what can we refer it but to a constitutional adaptation
of the mind to receive the truth that there is a God, taken
in connection with the objective certainty of the truth itself. This plainly is the only satisfactory solution. There
is no other which is even plausible.
We may farther add, in the fourth place, that the
atheistical hypothesis, or, in other words, the supposition
that no God exists, when fully and distinctly placed before
the mind, is abhorrent to the moral feelings of the soul.
It is obvious that men may speak, and often do speak,
of the non-existence of a Deity without any distinct
notion of what this really involves; and it is because they
speak inconsiderately and ignorantly that they are not conscious of any strong repugnance to the admission of the
thiought.  Or if, in the case of those who have utterly
abandoned themselves to evil, and who, in the depth of
their depravity, appear to wish there were no God, the
hypothesis of atheism, when deliberately considered, does
not awaken feelings of abhorrence; it is only because the
non-existence of God is regarded as a less dreadful evil
than the suffering of eternal punishment.  If there were 
BELIEF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
no God, it would by no means follow either that the
wicked would cease to be at death, or that if they should
continue to exist they would be happy. But while they
flatter themselves that such would be the consequence,
this hope of impunity may in a measure reconcile them to
the idea of a universe without a Deity.
With some such partial, and perhaps only apparent exceptions, it is certainly true, that the moral sentiments of
the human soul do so earnestly demand a God, that the
serious supposition that none exists, is one from which
the heart shrinks, as dark and horrible in the last degree.
A German writer, the celebrated Jean Paul Richter,
illustrates this revulsion of the moral instincts of the soul
from atheism, in a passage of such surpassing impressiveness and power, that I am tempted to quote it, notwithstanding the strangeness of the style in which it is conceived and executed. It takes the form of a dream, and
has a wildness which only a German imagination could
have imparted to the treatment of such a subject; but
the entire impression which it makes is truthful and profound.  It is as follows:  "I was reclining one summer evening on the summit
of a hill, and falling asleep there, I dreamed that I awoke
in the middle of the night in a church-yard. The clock
struck eleven.  The tombs were all half open, and the
iron gates of the church moved by an invisible hand,
opened and shut again with a great noise.  I saw shadows
flitting along the walls, which were not cast by any bodily
substance.   Other livid spectres rose in the air, and
children alone still reposed in their coffins. There was 
6
83
"o - 
84       BELIEF IAT THE BEING OF SOD.
greyish, heavy stifling cloud in the sky, which was strained
and compressed into long folds by a gigantic phantom.
Above me I heard the distant fall of avalanches, and
under my feet the first commotion of a mighty earthquake.
The church shook, and the air was agitated by piercing
and discordant sounds.
"The pale lightning cast a mournful light. I felt myself impelled by terror to seek shelter in the temple.
Two splendid basilisks were placed before its- formidable
gates.
"I advanced amid the crowd of unknown shades on
whom the seal of ancient ages was imprinted.  They all
pressed around the despoiled altar; and their breasts only
breathed and were agitated with violence. One corpse
alone which had been lately buried in the church reposed
on its winding sheet; there was yet no motion in its
breast, and a pleasing dream gave a smile to its countenance; but at the approach of a living being it awoke,
ceased to snmile, and opened its heavy eyelids with a painful effort. The socket of the eye was empty, and where
the heart had been there was only a deep wound. It
raised its hands and joined them to pray; but the arms
lengthened, were detached from the body, and the clasped
hands fell to the earth.
" In the vaulted ceiling of the church was placed the
dial of eternity. No figures or index were there, but a
black hand went slowly round, and the dead endeavoured
to read on it the lapse of time.
"From the high places there then descended on the
altar a figure beaming with light, noble, elevated, but who 
BELIEF IN THE  BEING  OF GOD.               85
bore the impression of never-ending sorrow.  The dead
cried out,' O Christ! is there then no God?' He replied,' There is none.' All the spectres then began to
tremble violently, and Christ continued thus,'I have
traversed worlds, I have raised myself above their sunIs,
and there, also, there is no God!  I have descended to the
lowest limits of the universe; I looked into the abyss, and
I cried, O Father, where art thou?'  Yet I heard nothing
but the rain that fell drop by drop into the abyss, and
the everlasting and ungovernable tempest alone answered
me.  Then raising my regards to the vault of heaven, I
saw only an empty orbit, dark and bottomless. Eternity
reposed on chaos, and in gnawing it, slowly also devoured
itself. Redouble, then, your piercing and bitter complaints.  May shrill cries disperse your spirits, for all hope
is over.
"The spectres of despair vanished, like the white vapour
condensed by the frost. The church was soon deserted.
But all at once-terrific sight-the dead  children who
were now awakened in their turn in the church-yard, ranil
and prostrated themselves before the majestic figure which
was on the altar, saying to him,'Jesus, have we no
Father?'  And he replied with a torrent of tears,' We are
all orphans!  Neither I nor you have any Father!'  At
these words, the temple and the children were swallowed
up, and all the edifice of the world sunk before me into
the immensity of space."
Appalling as this picture is, of the anguish and despair
which would overwhelm the spirits of men were it authoritatively announced to them that the idea of God was a 
86        BE f. IEF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
chimera, that the universe was without a head, and all
beings without a Father-it is yet a picture by no means
overdrawn. Let any one who is disposed to doubt on
this point, make a deliberate and fair appeal to his own
consciousness, and he will find how abhorrent to his whole
moral nature is the conception of a universe without a
Deity; the blind, dark, dismal reign of forces eternally
conflicting, without unity and without intelligence, instead
of the. dominion of wisdom and of love embodied in a
personal and infinitely perfect God. Why in all nature
does the seed sprout upward, plant it as you will?  Be cause, by an inward law, it is determined to seek the
genial influence of the sun. Even so the human soul has
deep within itself a something-call it a yearning, or an
instinct, or whatever else you choose-a sense of want
profound and uneradicable-which, until it be utterly
destroyed by sin, so causes it to feel the need of God,.
that even while it does not truly love him, it cannot endure the thought of his non-existence.
What, then, shall be said by way of accounting for so
remarkable a fact? Is there more than one solution which
will at all commend itself to any serious, thinking mind?
Does it not seem a gross absurdity to entertain the
thought, that the rational soul of man is constitutionally
disposed to search after, and to demand as an absolute
necessity in order to its happiness, a living, personal
Deity, if no such being really exists? Can it be possibly
conceived that atheism should be so abhorrent to the best
feelings of the heart in man, so intolerable to think of, if the
atheistical hypothesis be not a falsehood and an absurdity? 
BELIEF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
We refer, in the fifth place, to yet another fact which is
of great significance. It is clearly proved by the experience of all ages, that a belief in the existence of one
supreme and perfect God is in a high degree elevating
and happy in the influence which it exerts on the mind
and heart of man; while the views of atheism have
tended only to demoralization and debasement.
It, doubtless, has sometimes been true that individuals
have been found who have professed atheism, and yet
have not materially departed outwardly from the observances of virtue. But these have been chiefiy such as have
been born and educated where the institutions, and the
whole spirit of society, were determined by a very general
belief in the divine existence; and to this it has been
owing, that the appropriate effects of their unbelief have
not appeared. So obvious have been the pernicious tendencies of atheism, even where the prevalent ideas of God
were exceedingly erroneous, that philosophers and statesmen who studied to promote the well-being of society,
have regarded the popular belief of polytheism, bringing
along with it all the evils of idolatry, as safer far, and
greatly less corrupting, than the atheistical denial of any
power superior to man and nature. They dared not disturb the popular faith in divine existence and agency, corrupted and imperfect as it was, and even seemed to coun
tenance it, although they had themselves attained to
better views, because they saw that under the reign of
universal atheism all the virtues that adorn humanity,
and even society itself would perish.
On the other hand, the fact lies on the very face of
87
.,,, 
88      BELIEF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
human history, that a settled belief in the being of a God,
and of the truths which are obviously deducible from this,
is not only favourable in its influence on human character
and happiness, but favourable in a very high degree. The
existence of a Deity admitted, the doctrines of a Provi dence, of humnan responsibility, and of ultimate retribution,
logically follow, and are, of course, admitted likewise;
and all these truths taken together, must, from the nature
of the case, tend powerfully to develop the feeling of
moral obligation in the soul, and to put restraint on all its
propensities to evil. Such have been everywhere their
manifest effects.  If it is true, and it must certainly be
admitted to be true, that in communities and states in
which there has been a prevalent acknowledgment of the
divine existence, there have been but too many exhibitions of popular depravity, it will also be found on in..
quiry to be true that when corruption of manners has
most obtained, faith in a Deity has been least real; and
on the. contrary, it will appear that when faith in God
has been most intelligent, most vital and prevailing, the
evil impulses of men have been most restrained, and the
flowers and the fruits of virtue have most richly bloomed
and ripened throughout all the walks of life.  Refer, for
examnple, if you please, to Jewish history. There were
periods in which their belief in the one true God was
general, deep, and earnest. Those were the bright and
glorious periods of their national existence. There were
days in which thleylost the freshness and thevigorll of their
faith in the great Jehovah, and even lapsed into actual
idolatry; and those were the days in which both public 
B.ELlEF IN THE BEING OF SOD.
and private virtue disappeared, and there was seen everywhere the sad and abhorrent picture of individual baseness,
and of social rottenness and misery; and even at the
worst, their moral condition was far better than that of
the nations immediately around them, among whom there
was no faith in the one true God at all. It is impossible
to read the glowing passages of David and  Isaiah, in
which they delineate with such surpassing power and
beauty the character and attributes of the Most High,
without believing that the grand idea of divine perfection
which was ever present to their minds,-the noble conception of a personal self-existent God, infinite in power
and wisdom, in holiness and majesty,-did operate most
powerfully to elevate, expand, and purify their souls. So
far as the mass of the nation were able to receive and
entertain such views, and were believinigly familiar with
them, the same effects must have been wrought on them.
Here, then, as before, we ask, What explanation shall
be given? With the indisputable fact before us, that a
belief in a living personal God has proved itself in every
age and nation most salutary in its influence on human
character; that its tendency has clearly been to develop
intellectual and moral  life and  energy, and to invest
humanity with the charms of moral loveliness, are we to
think-can we imagine-tliht this belief is without the
least foundation-a fond but idle fancy-an empty, vain
delusion?   Who has credulity enough for this?   Who
can persuade himself that this grand moral force which
has been seen exerting itself on the minds and hearts of
men from the creation until now, is after all a mere non
89 
90       BELIEF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
entity-.a fiction of the mind itself? This striking fact,
that the influence of a belief in the divine existence has
always been so eminently happy and ennobling, must
make the supposition that this belief is false, seem utterly
absurd to the candid, thoughtful mind.
You will observe, that in calling your attention to the
several important facts to which we have referred, it has
not been asserted that any one of them, or even all of
them together, do constitute an absolute and perfect
demonstration of a God. On the contrary, we have said
that such a thing is not to be expected. But what we say
is this. The human mind, whenever and wherever developed into intelligent consciousness, appears naturally
and necessarily to have the notion of a God. The more
reflective, and especially the more virtuous men have been
in every age, the more as the general rule they have loved
and cherished this idea.  Those who, for any reason, have
sought to rid themselves of all belief in God, have found
the task extremely difficult-almost impossible. The conception of a universe without a God is, when deliberately
considered, naturally abhorrent to the soul. And, finally,
the belief in a self-conscious, intelligent, personal Deity,
has always been seen to exert the best influence on human
character and happiness. Each one of these facts, considered by itself, is wholly unaccountable except on the
supposition that God actually exists. Each one of them
impresses the serious, honest mind with a conviction of
his being; and then, when we take them all togetherwith no conflicting proof to neutralize their force-they
carry that conviction to a moral certainty, which sound 
BELIEF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
philosophy, and the laws of reasoning on such subjects,
decide to be not at all less satisfactory and conclusive,
than that of the most rigid demonstration. Such is the
method, and such the result of the present argument. It
is only one of several modes in which we may consider this
great subject. We may take other stand-points, and have
recourse to other kinds of proof; and so, as we observed
in the beginning, we may confirm our moral instincts by
substantial arguments adduced in indefinite accumulation.
Let us also understand that the study of this subject
is not unprofitable speculation. Far from it. Scepticism,
sooften repulsed in its grosser attacks on divine religion, has
in this, our time, assumed a more refined and subtle form.
The philosophical pantheism of the schools of Germany
and of the most recent sceptical writers of England and
America, is a practical if not a real atheism. If God be
not a living, personal, self-conscious being, existing apart
fr6m the creation, but only an unconscious necessary cause
or force evolving itself in the universe of things and always
immanent in it, the name may be retained, but the thing
is gone for ever. Such a necessary cause, or force, or
ground of being-call it what you will-is no more God
in any proper sense than was the eternal fate of the Greek
mythology. The advocates of the modern pantheistic
views do as completely empty the universe of God, according to any true notion of his being, as it is possible to do;
and leave an awful vacancy as horrible to the conception
of a healthful, sober mind, as it was represented in the
passage quoted from Jean Paul a little while ago.
Yet these are the views which in so many captivating
91 
92       BELIEF IN THE BEING OF GOD.
fontis, in books and lectures, in poetry and prose, are no10w
addressed to the better class of minds among the young
people of our land. Their vagueness takes the imagination.
Their pretension excites the hope of augmented light.
But, believe it, they do but mock with empty names, and
with   bewildering shadows; and bring, instead of increased
illumination, the murky gloom of unalleviated darkness           "Black as deep midnight, terrible as hell!"
From all such exhibitions turn to the facts affirmed by
human consciousness and human history, to which we
have referred, and let them make their mighty plea for
God-the real God-within your souls.  It is clear, with
such facts before you, that your souls are made to conceive
of God; that they deeply yearn for God; that they cleave
to a belief in Godcl; that they shrink from the orphanage to
which his non-existence would consign them; and finally,
that they feel themselves drawn upward in the scale of
being by the glorious attraction of his infinite perfection.
You must then recognise the living God.   You cannot do
without him. The planets in the heavens, which are held
ever in their places by the attraction of the central orb,
and have'all their life and gladness in his beams, shall as
soon be able to do without the sun, as you shall be
able to do without the centre of all minds, the resplendenilt light of all the universe, the fountain of those
influences and those attractions, which produce and perpetuate throughout the whole, order, harmoniy. and blessedness. There is a God. 1I is only the fool that denies it
in his heart. 
ARGUMENT FOR TtIE DIVINE EXISTENCE.   93
VI.
Irgurtit  firont bean for t          ivint
(giftiitelt.
Rom. i. 20: For the invisible things of Him, from the creation of the
world are clearly seen, bein?g understood by the thilz73 that are made,
even his eternal yower and Godhead.
N  a former discourse we have endeavoured to present
the evidence of the divine existence which is furnished
by the moral constitution, instincts. and history of man,
as exhibited ill certain familiar and generally admitted
facts. It was then observed that that was only one of
many lines of argument which might properly.be pursued,
for the purpose of advancing the instinctive belief in the
being of a God which men seem naturally to entertain, to
a full conviction of the understanding-a rational faith,
logically established by conclusive proofs.
The text invites us to take another position and to pursue another course of thought on this deeply interesting
subject.   In order to render its exact meaning a little
more easy to be apprehended, we may paraphrase this
remarkable passage in the following manner:-For his
invisible attributes, even his eternal power and divinity,
are clearly seen since the creation of the world, being rendered intelligible by the things that are made. I propose,
in this discourse, to direct your thoughts to the truth 
ARGUMENT FROMI DFE,IGN
which  it clearly states, -that  the constitution and the
phenomena of the system of nature afford decisive evidence
of the existence of a God.
The argument constructed on this basis is What is commonly called the argument from design. Kant and his
followers among the Germans, and Coleridge and those
who adopt his views among English and American writers
on the subject, have denied the validity of this argument;
or rather they have denied that it amounts to a strict and
absolute demonstration-a thing which ought never to
have been claimed in its behalf. It is an argument of
the moral or probable kind; and as such, when correctly
stated, it is not only valid and worthy of attention, but is
in fact one of the most striking and irresistible that can
be presented to the mind. The mind being, as we have
seen, instinctively disposed to find a God, the constitution
and aspects of nature attentively and candidly considered,
afford it proofs of his existence, which though not
mathematically demonstrative in their nature, are yet, if
allowed their fair impression, not at all inferior, in their
power to produce conviction, to the severest demonstration.
The argument, in short, is this. The system of nature
exhibits innumerable instances of the adaptation of means
to ends and of particular and general design. We are
certain that this system had a beginning. To originate
it, there must have been a contriver and architect adequate to the production of such a universe; and although
as the universe is not infinite, an infinite designer is not
mathematically proved, yet as the mind is constituted, it
9A 
FOR THE DIVINE EXISTENCE.
cannot conceive of a being capable of producing such a
universe, without feeling it absurd to set any limits to bis
power, and wisdom, and other manifested attributes;
without, in a word, ascribing to Him the attributes which
constitute a personal God of infinite perfection. We are
not to consider what would be the force of this evidence
apart from the peculiar laws of our moral nature; but
what is its legitimate and actual force as addressed to such
a nature. Considered in its relation to our minds, particularly to our moral instincts, the proof of a God derived
from the appearances of nature is certainly clear and satisfactory. That this may appear, we will more fully illustrate and amplify the argument as just stated in a brief
and simple way.
Suppose, then, that in travelling through a country in
which you are a stranger, you arrive at a splendid palace.
You observe, as you approach it, that the noble park in
which it is embosomed, is carefully enclosed, that it is
adorned with a variety of trees, many of them obviously
transplanted from foreign climes, and that herds of deer
are grazing on its slopes. Its gardens, you notice, are
planned in exact accordance with the rules of correct perspective, and are supplied with every plant and shrub
recommended either by utility or beauty, and with the
choicest fruits of all the several seasons. The edifice itself
strikes you at once as a model of architectural symmetry
and proportion, and as in all respects exceedingly wellplanned. On its top is an observatory, furnished with a
telescope ingeniously arranged, and commanding the most
delightful views in all directions. As you ascend the
95 
ARGUMExNT FROM DESIGI
marble steps, which are hewn and laid with mathematical
exactness, and the door balanced nicely on its hinges, opens
at your touch, you perceive that throughout the whole establishment there is perfect order, combined with admirable
taste and art. The hall is large and airy, and enriched
with the master-pieces of the painter and the sculptor;
the drawing-rooms are lofty and well-proportioned, while
the brilliant chandelier dependent from the ceiling and
the massive lamps upon the mantel, furnish complete
facilities for the most agreeable illumination. You find
also in their proper places the useful chair, the comfortable
sofa, and the luxurious couch with its downy pillow. In
short, after examining every part attentively, you can discover nothing wanting which could contribute to the comfort or the pleasure of the occupant.
After having satisfied your curiosity and admired sufficiently the wisdom which contrived and the skill which
executed so fine a plan, you resume your journey anxious
to be informed who has fitted up for himself this magnificent abode. Soon you meet a resident of the neighbourhood, and ask him to inform you. With an air of surprise
at your inquiry he replies, "That palace was never built,
as you suppose. It has always stood there precisely as
it is." You feel the entire absurdity of such an answer,
and conclude that your informant is a fool, or else that
he believes that you are one. You meet a second and
repeat your question. He gravely tells you that your impressions respecting it are wholly wrong; that there is
really no contrivance or design about it; that matter must
exist under some form or other; and that among the
96 
OR THE DIVINE EXISTENCE.
infinity of possible modifications it has happened to take
the  order and arrangement you  have  noticed.   This
answer you find even more repugnant to your reason than
the former; and intent on coming at the truth, you ask a
third. His statement is, that a man of princely means
and tastes at a certain time selected the site of the palace,
laid out and beautified the grounds, erected the noble edifice, procured the costly furniture, and spared no pains to
make it a rich and convenient habitation, and that at particular seasons of the year he is wont to occupy it and to
enjoy the means of happiness which it affords.   This
answer accords with all that you have seen, and is a satisfactory solution of the case.
Like such a palace is the natural world around you.
Throughout its diversified and almost innumerable arrangements you see a design which evinces surprising wisdom
and an execution indicative of boundless power.   The
globe itself is one of the members of a nicely adjusted
system.  For thousands of years it has moved through a
path more than five hundred millions of miles in circuit,
never wandering from its course. During the same period
it has steadily revolved upon its axis, maintaining with
undeviating regularity the alternations of day and night.
Everywhere, on the surface of the earth, you find the
animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms characterized by
adaptations the most wonderful and perfect, and by a
rigid conformity to law. There is a place and a use for
everything, and everything is fitted to its place and rse.
Modify at any point the existing order of things, and you
are certain to introduce disorder and deformity. Exchange,
97 
ARGUME'T FROM DESIGV
for example, the teeth and claws of the lion for the
grinders and cloven feet of the ox, and the one would inevitably famish amid the mountains of prey, and the other
though surrounded by the ample luxuriance of the pasture.
Give to the eagle fins, and transfer his pinions to the
shark, and each would perish hopelessly, unfitted for his
proper element. For the grateful verdure of the grass
and trees let there be substituted the bright yellow of the
gold-cup or the pure white of the lily, or the dazzling
scarlet of the geranium, and you might almost as well put
out the sun, or at once doom all the world to blindness.
Let the granite strata be transformed to diamond, and you
could neither remove them from their places nor convert
them to your use with any tolerable convenience. Let
your springs of water lose their pure and grateful tastelessness, and acquire instead a sweet or a spicy flavour,
and your drink would shortly cloy your appetite and beget
a loathing. In a word, suppose any material change you
please in the constitution of the natural world and you
will find that mischievous results would inevitably follow
its occurrence.  It is a perfect and harmonious whole,
uniting, like the palace in the case supposed, both usefuilness and beauty, each in its due proportion.
But the fact that there are indications in the system of
nature of a general plan, an adjustment of the several
parts to one another, is not all that it concerns us to observe. Each natural object in itself, and aside from its
relations to the whole, exhibits proof of wise contrivance
and design. The vegetable and animal kingdoms perhaps
furnish the most striking instances of this.  The botanist
98 
FOR THiE DIVINE EXISTENCE.
who examines the germinating and fructifying organs of
plants, and the anatomist who explores the mysteries of
the animal economy, find at every step of their investigations adaptations which surprise by their ingenuity and
astonish by their perfection. Many of these provisions,
indeed, are obvious only to the scientific eye; yet very
many  also may  be  noticed  by  the most  uninformed
observer.  Who, for instance, can have failed to mark
how the seed of the thistle is scattered over the face of the
earth by means of its balloon of down s Who has not
noticed how the reed, the corn-stalk, and the tall spire of
grass, could not have stood erect but for the singular device of joints formed at certain intervals, which add
greatly to their strength    To whom has it not occurred
that to invert the position of the ear. would be almost to
destroy its value? Who has not often admired the position and the structure of that most perfect of all telescopes-the eye.   Defended by the nasal, cheek, and
frontal bones, and veiled by its elastic curtain, delicate as
it is, it is probably more rarely injured than any other
organ; while with its complicated lenses, its dilating and
contracting pupil, and its self-regulating power, it is a
specimen of unrivalled mechanism. We might go on to
mention the heart, with its cells, and valves, and spontaneous motion-the lungs, with their delicate and elastic
structure-and the limbs, with their muscles, tendons,
ligaments, and joints. But it is not my design to pursue
this part of the subject into minute detail.
Now to tLe question that forces itself upon every
thoughtful nihnd-whence  this obvious general  de.lg;.
7.*.*
99
;A 
ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN
and these wonderful special adaptations, one of three
answers  must  be given-namely,  Either  things have
always existed as they are; or they exist in their pre  sent state by accident; or they are the work of an intelli  gent Author.
The first of these answers-that the world has always
existed as it is-corresponds, you perceive, with the reply
of the person whom we supposed to say that the palace sc
complete and well-arranged was never built, but had
always presented the appearance described; and the false  hood of the one is not less palpable than that of the other.
There is, on the first mention of the thing, the same sort
of difficulty in conceiving of such a world without a
planner as such an edifice without an architect; and then,
further, whatever may or may not be true about the
eternity of matter, we positively know-for science, par  ticularly the science of geology, affords most ample proof
of the fact-that the present system of things upon our
earth is not eternal. It has not always existed as it is,
but has had a comparatively recent origin. The several
stages or gradations by which it has reached its present
state are written for our study on the successive strata of
the rocks.  With the testimony of the sciences all the
existing records of human history agree. While the re  mains of perished genera and species, both of animals
and plants, declare that neither of these departments of
nature has been always as it is, there are abundant facts
to prove that the human race have not always existed on
the earth.
.'e vomit on this point some abstract modes of reasoning,
G ~
100 
PER THE DIVINE EXISTENCE.
which have commonly been employed, as rendered unnecessary by the facts to which we have just referred.
The second answer, which corresponds with the reply
supposed in our illustration-that the palace was produced fortuitously as one possible form of matterassumes that matter has inherent in it some blind forcesome tendency to organized arrangement, by virtue of
which, in the course of ages, it has assumed the forms in
which we see it.   On this we may remark that the
assumption is wholly conjectural and unsupported. There
is not the slightest proof of such a tendency to organize;
but, on the contrary, natural philosophy lays it down as
a fundamental doctrine that matter is entirely passivethat is, that if put at rest it remains at rest, and if put in
motion it remains in motion.  But even if such a tendency were granted, it would transcend belief entirely that
a mere blind property of matter should produce contrivance so ingenious and workmanship so exquisite, that the
most perfect human sagacity and skill cannot rival it by an
immeasurable distance. Then, further, it is not material
forms alone which are to be accounted for, but also the
vital principle in all organic life, and the intelligence
exhibited by the animal creation, and most of all by man.
To suppose these things to result from the mere juxtaposition of material particles, is to exhibit the credulity of
believing without the slightest evidence, and to rest our
opinions upon fancy.
We are shut up, therefore, to the third alternative-to
the conclusion that, like the palace, our world must have
been contrived and fitted up by a wise designer. After
101 
102           ARGUMENT FROM DESION
surveying its broad plan, and observing how it bears, even
in its minutest parts, the most indubitable marks of in telligent adaptation, the mind (an find no resting-place but
in the admission of a personal Creator, endowed with the
power thle wisdom, and other attributes, whatever they
may be, which render him adequate to the work of con structing and sustaining such a system; and then when
we enlarge our view and take in the vast extent of the
creation, of which the amazing discoveries of astronomical
science give us only a faint idea, we perceive that a being
adequate to the work of creating, upholding, and governing such a universe, must be so great, so transcendant in
his attributes, that we can form no higher conception of
infinity, or of absolute perfection, than is realized in him.
To minds constituted like ours, it matters not that the
proof of an infinite, self-conscious, living God is not demonstrative in its nature; it is enough that to a soul instinctively demanding such a God it carries the presumption that there is such a being up to the highest point of
moral certainty, and thus authorizes and sustains the most
complete conviction.
The argument for the divine existence from the adaptation and design which are apparent must, however, in
order to be complete, be carried forward from the aspects
of the natural world as observed by the intelligent mind,
to the constitution and the phenomena which the mind
itself exhibits. In the general adaptation of the soul of
man to its position and relations, in the fitness of each
particular faculty to its end, and the adjustment and harmony of the whole, there meet us the same indications of 
FOR THE DIVINE EXISTENCE.                  103
,wisdomn directed to purposes and ends which are so striking in material nature. The relation between the eye and
the light, the lungs and the air, the ear and the atmospheric vibrations, is not more notable and significant than
that of the intellect to the objects of knowledge, of the
natural sensibilities to the causes of pleasure and pain, of
the conscience to the impression of right and wrong, and
of the desires and the will to the forms of good presented.
We cannot here enter on any illustration of this part of
the argument.    The  mode  of reasoning is the same,
whether we attend to matter or to mind.   The inner
world supplies us proofs of a designing God profoundly
interesting, and, if possible, even more impressive, when
carefully examined, than those of the world without. The
common mind is most easily led to notice the marks of
divine wisdom in material nature.   But the facts which
the world of mind presents are equally conclusive when
once they are examined, as has of late been shown by
several able writers.
To every enlightened and really honest mind, therefore,
what the apostle asserts so distinctly in the text is manifestly true. The invisible attributes of God, even his
eternal power and Godhead, are clearly seen since the
creation of the world. Such a mind feels, that to refuse
to admit this, is to resist the laws of evidence, is to do
violence to its own urgent convictions, and to plunge into
the most palpable absurdities.   It seems  impossible,
indeed, that any person, with a healthful tone of moral
feeling, should bring himself to an honest, deliberate conclusion that there is no God, after having intelligently 
104            ARGUMENT FROM DESIGiS
studied nature or himself. The irreligious nlan may say
this in his heart; but he will still continue to see it
written on every part of the fair fabric of creation-every
house is builded by some man, but he that built all
things is God! Yes, every star that sparkles in the firmament; every planet as it rolls; the moon as she walks
in brightness, and the sun as he travels in his strength;
each with its own emphatic voice declares there is a
God!  Every seed that germinates, evely  flower that
blooms, every fruit that ripens, every leaf of the forest
that trembles in the breeze, tells us there is a God!
Every eye that sees, every ear that hears, every heart that
throbs, every bird that flies through the midst of heaven,
every fish that roams through the ocean's caves, and every
beast upon a thousand hills, declares there is a God! And
lastly, every mind that thinks, anrid wills, and reasons,
and remembers, and feels the sense of moral obligation,
most impressively of all, gives testimony to the existence
and perfections of a divine Creator.
"Here is firmn footing, here is solid rock,
And all is sea besides."
Here we may rest unmoved. This truth admitted, the
universe is harmonized; much of its darkness is dispelled,
and a key is furnished for the solution of many of its
mysteries. If there yet remain anomalies which baffle us,
if there are some arrangements whose design we are thus
far unable to discover, if there are still deeps which we
cannot fathom with our utmost reach of intellect, let us
remember that our understanding bears a less relation tc
the Infinite Intelligence, than a grain of sand bears to 
FOR THE DIVINE EXISTENCE.
the material universe; and in faith and meekness let us
wait, till we shall be placed in that higher world, where
with expanded intellect and clearer vision, we shall behold
the glory of the Lord.
If now, it be true. tnat the appearances of nature do
plainly teach that there is a Suprera3 Being, then certainly
it follows that all mankind are bound to recoguise hLm
Paul, in the context, is speaking of the heathen; and he
declares that even their ignorance of God is without
excuse. It is an ignorance which exists in spite of evi dence, and is fostered by depravity. There is no corner
of the world so dark that the rays of the divine glory are
not reflected there from the face of the Creation; no eye
is so blind that it could not discern them by attentive
observation.
But if the least enlightened are under obligation to
know God from his works, much more are they whose
minds have been educated to reflect, and to whom science
has laid open the mysteries of nature. If such assert
that they can see no proofs of a Creator, can it be other wise than true that they are either flagrantly dishonest,
or pitifully weak. If they are not so near to idiocy as to
be unable to understand the connection between effects
and causes, can they be otherwise than wholly inexcus able, if they do not habitually and with full conviction,
recognise  the divine existence.   When  the  voice  of
universal nature cries, "There is a God!" our inmost
souls must heartily respond, "There is a God!"
And while nature, by the light which she imparts
respecting God, lays on us the obligation to acknowlejgp
~  ~*e~
105 
ARGUME.VT FROM DESIrGN
him, she also binds us to adore him. It is obvious to
reflect, that he whose power was adequate to the creation
of what our eyes behold must be almighty.  The wisdom
which devised this wondrous mechanism, and these count   less forms of beauty, must be imagined to be infinite.
The benevolence which has displayed itself to such an
extent in the production of what is good, should certainly
be presumed to be unimpeachable, even if in a few par   ticulars the harmony of things should not be clearly seen.
And can we know a being whose power and wisdom and
benevolence are boundless, and not be under obligation to
regard him with reverence and affection? He appears
most worthy of our homage and our love; if, therefore,
we withhold it, we manifestly rob him of his right. All
that is sublime in greatness, all that is grand in intellect,
and all that is admirable in excellence, is blended into
ineffable glory in his character as thus exhibited; and if
we fail to think of him with reverence, and to contern   plate his perfections with delight, we clearly evince that
sin has vitiated our moral tastes, has perverted and de   based the best affections of our souls
See to it, then, that you make God a living reality to
your daily apprehension.  Be more observing of his works,
more watchful of his providence, and more anxious to
learn by every means all that you can learn respecting
him. Let the truth that there is a God not only not be
questioned, but not lost sight of for a moment. When
you lie down, and when you rise up, when you sit in the
house, and when you walk by the way, let it be ever
present to your thoughts. Let it comfort you in sorrow,
G ~
106 
FOR THE D)IVINE EXISTENCE.
and chasten the excitement ot your joy.   If you  are
tempted to go in the ways of sin, let it ring in your ears
like a voice of terror; and if you are treading in the paths
of holiness, let it strengthen and make glad your souls.
Let nothing tempt you to listen to the suggestions of
scepticism even for a moment. To yield up the mind to
them is virtually to shut your eyes, and to stop your ears,
and with the perverseness of deliberate folly to plunge
into the blackness of darkness. Atheism can shed no ray
of comfort on the soul. It throws a pall over the glories
of the universe, and shrouds all things in funereal gloom.
Take away from me the evidence that there is a God, and
show me that I am only a product of necessity or chance,
without a Father, and without the hope of that divine
sympathy for which my heart is yearning, and I will sit
down and weep through the little that remains of life, and
wish that I had never waked to conscious being. But so
long as I can look over the broad earth, and the heaving
sea, and the azure firmament, and see it written there that
God exists, I will rejoice in my own existence, and will
feel that there is a sun to illuminate the universe, and to
diffuse throughout it light, and life, and blessedness! And
since my reason teaches me to believe without a question
that
If there's a power above us He must delight in virtue,
And that which he delights in must be happy,
it shall be the great end of all my thoughts to study his
perfections, and in my humble measure to attain his moral
image!
107 
108      THE CMHRS TIA N  VELA TIOY
VII.
I  trisfian   ttafion fo by  rtsunt
giivint.
2 PETER i. 16: For we have not followed cunningly devised fables.
HE  existence of God admitted, another question  at
once suggests itself. Has this divine Being directly
revealed himself and made known his will to man?  Of
course, if he be recognised as the Author of nature, that
must be acknowledged to be an expression of his thought,
and, so far as it goes, an illustration of his attributes and
character. By the careful study of this, to the extent of
our faculties and time, we might expect to arrive at some
practical conclusions as to what course of conduct on our
part would be in accordance with his will, and would best
promote our own welfare. But has he been pleased to
instruct men supernaturally? Apart from the lessons
taught by the constitution of the world and the orderly
on-goings of the great system of natural causes, has he
come to the intelligent soul of man with immediate inspirations of his own wisdom, and as if with words from
his own lips?
We were taught in childhood that hlie has. We have
believed it, without hesitation, up to that point at which
we are led to reflect on all our principal beliefs, and to ask
on what they rest. Now doubts arise, and we feel the 
TO BE PRESUMIED DIVINE.
necessity of deliberate examination.   In this period of
thoughtful inquiry it is of the first importance that we
should approach the subject, not only with a candid and
honest spirit, with entire openness to conviction, but also
with a just view of the position of the question. In
regard to most inquiries in the region of practical truth,
it is found that, on the first proposal of them, there is
something to give the mind a prepossession in one way or
another; something which begets a presumption either for
a particular conclusion, or against it. The cause of this
bias may lie, not in the subject, but in the state of the
mind itself; in its tastes, desires, or previous modes of
thinking.   However it may be accounted for, it has too
generally happened that those who have been led to doubt
the reality of divine revelation, and have set themselves
to examine the matter, have come to the inquiry with a
conviction, or at least a feeling, that the presumption at
the outset is against the claim that a positive revelation
has been made.    Of  course, the evidence  demanded
must be of sufficient force to overcome this unfavourable state of mind, as well as to convince the understanding.
The truth, we insist, is, in fact, directly the reverse of
this very common impression of the doubting. We desire
to show in the present discourse, and hope to make it
appear conclusively, that to a candid inquirer, who now
comes to a consideration of the subject, there is a strong
antecedent presumption in Jfavour of that professed revelation which claims our credence in the Bible; that such
a person is justified in assuming that, aside from its
109 
110          TEIE CHRISTIAN REVELATION
immediate and proper proofs, there is a high probability
that these received deliverances of God to men are genu ine and true.
Without going into the philosophical question of the
conceivable possibility of a revelation, or inquiring as to
the reality of the miracles, and prophecies, and testimonies,
by which it claims to be authenticated, we say first of
all, that the very existence of this alleged revelation, in
the form in which we find it, affords a presumption of its
truth.
The first thing that strikes one on glancing at the
books of the Old and New Testament, in which what is
called the Christian revelation is contained, is the exceedingly heterogeneous character of their contents.   They
present a collection of the writings of a great number of
persons, scattered through a long course of ages, of various social grades, from the condition of herdsmen and
fishermen to that of eminent statesmen and illustrious
sovereigns; of different sorts of talent, of dissimilar tastes,
habits, and culture, and, to a great extent, unconnected
with each other. The styles of composition are as diverse
as the authors. There are genealogies, geographical and
ethnological details, fragmentary and connected histories;
poetry, including the pastoral, the psalm, the anthem, the
war-song, the elegy, the drama, and the highest range of
the descriptive and impassioned; biographies and pictures
of social life and manners, proverbs, discourses, precepts,
parables, letters.  What a medley! one might naturally
exclaim on first looking at the volume. A little of all
ages, of all sorts of men, and of all varieties of human 
TO BE PRESUMED DIVINE.                  111
thought!  This, regarding  them  simply as authentic
writings, and just as you regard Herodotus and Livy,
Plato and Seneca, Pindar and Horace.
But on even a cursory reading of these writings, hetero geneous as they seem, you cannot fail to be equally im pressed with a second fact about them-this, namely, that
they have, after all, a strange and most striking unity.
One spirit breathes throughout the whole. The same
conception of God, as the eternal, self-existent, and infinite Creator, of his natural government of the world, and
of his moral government of rational creatures; the same
general notions of right and wrong; the same views of
the design of human existence, of the individual responsibility of men, of the blessedness of well-doing and of the
miseries of sin; of the guilt and want of mankind, of the
justice, the goodness, and the grace of God, and of the
way of reconciliation with him. Nor does this unity of
sentiment, of spirit, and of general scope and purpose
seem less, but rather greater, the more carefully and
thoroughly these various compositions are examined.
With all the diversities naturally resulting from the fact
that each writer exhibits the peculiar characteristics of
his own genius, age, country, language, and personal condition, and notwithstanding that the books of the several
authors were published independently of each other, these
writings are so entirely alike in their moral tone, and so
completely harmonious in their presentations of the
cardinal truths of religion, that they appear as if originally
designed to make one perfect whole when brought together, like the separate beams in the framework of a 
112          THE CHRISTIAN REVELA TION
building. No competent person can attentively read the
Christian Scriptures, whatever may be his opinion about
their origin, without perceiving that there is one continuous
stream of thought and feeling flowing down throughout
the whole, from the earliest to the latest, varying only in
this, that it grows deeper and broader by frequent homogenous accessions as it sweeps onward through the ages.
Here, then, is an undeniable fact to be accounted for.
Through this line of individual men, posted at various intervals back to the beginning of the world, there have
been tTansmitted certain distinctive views of God and
religion, which out of this line have come to us from no
other portion of the race. That these men have not been
mere copyists from each other, the specific diversities, and
the accessions and progressive development of thought to
which we have referred, afford decisive proof. Two questions meet us therefore, namely, How came they, any of
them, by views at once so unique in themselves and so
immeasurably superior in intellectual and moral elevation
to those attained by the historians, the poets, and the
sages of all the world besides? And then, how came
they, writing separately and each for his own particulars
end, living also some of them centuries and even thousands
of years apart, so to harmonize with and to supplement
each other, that taken together their writings form one
grand and well-adjusted whole. We will not now assert
that with these questions before us the conviction must
arise that there is something supernatural in all this, and
that these men must have been the instruments by which
a real positive revelation has been made; but certainly it 
TO BE PRESUMED DIVINE.                  113
is saying very little to say that the facts of the case, if
candidly considered, do justify us in approaching the
Bible, do demand even that we approach it, with a strong
presumption that it is what it purports to be-the word of
the living God supernaturally conveyed to men. If each
of the authors of the sacred books, in his own age, for his
own ends, and without the least relation to the others,
had wrought a piece of brass into a given form; and if
at last, when these pieces were all collected and compared,
it had been found that they together formed a perfect
piece of mechanism, a watch for instance, the impression
of a superhuman agency directing the whole matter would
hardly have been stronger than it now actually is.
The presumption'thus created by the existence of the
Christian revelation in the form in which we find it, is
greatly strengthened, we have further to observe, by the
obvious and admitted fact that it has entered most profoundly into the life and thought of the world. This current of professed revelation, that, like a river flowing
through many lands and climnes, has held its way through
the revolutions of centuries and the countless vicissitudes
of human affairs, has not been an insulated thing, a mere
object of attention and of interest. As the waters are not
confined within the river banks, but penetrate the bordering lands, ascend in vapour to fall again in showers, and
thus enter with their vitalizing power the domain of vegetable life-so what have claimed to be the truths received
from heaven have entered into and permeated the heart of
humanity to a wonderful extent, and exhibit themselves
in all history, in the thought, the learning, the institutions, 
114       TIHE CHRISTIA.N REVELATION
the enterprises, and the aspirations of the most enlightened
and vigorous portions of the race.
We are not here giving an opinion, let it be remembered,
but merely stating a fact familiar to every one acquainted
with history and with the ideas that enter into our modern
civilization.  It has been true, according to all historical
records, and all the surviving literature of past ages, that
a belief in the unity of God and in his providential government of the world-a belief which, wherever it has existed,
has exhibited its power to elevate human character and
thought-has never been held consistently and steadily,
except along with a prevailing faith in revelation.   It is
equally obvious that the doctrines in regard to the rights
of man which have for centuries been working their way
in the most enlightened States; which are steadily mitigating social evils, raising to a higher level the masses of
the people, developing the sense of individual manhood
and weakening the arm of the oppressor; which, either
through institutions or through the force of public opinion,
are exalting men to the responsibilities and benefits of
civil and religious liberty;-it is true, I say, that these
doctrines are to be traced to those views of the value,
the accountability, the immortal nature and high destiny
of individual man, which were originally delivered in the
so-called sacred books, and have never been found to any
considerable extent, except where these are found. If it
were possible to eliminate from the structure of modern
civilized society all the elements derived directly or indirectly from these, to withdraw them would be to take
away what is most vital, most distinctive, most noble, and 
TO BE PRESUMED DIVINE.
most hopeful as regards the future of humanity. The
very men who profess now to reject revealed religion,
would cling with all tenacity to fundamental truths and
principles pertaining to God, to man, and to society, which
have been derived alone from the professed records of
revelation. To this it must be added, that all departments of the literature of the most cultivated nationshistory, eloquence, poetry, criticism, and even fictionas well as the higher fields of science and philosophy, are
interfused with elements of thought, of taste, of imagination, and with notions that enter into and determine to
no small extent, the modes of reasoning which are adopted,
the source of which is undeniably the same. Whether
the Bible be true or false the fact is before our eyes that
its contents have entered profoundly into the mind and
heart of humanity, and have to a great extent become
blended with its intellect and sentiment alike.
Nor can it be said that other pretended systems of religion have done the same. There are no facts of history
by which such an assertion can be justified. What claims
to be the Christian revelation extends back to the beginning of the world, and covers the whole period of the
world's life; always self-consistenlt, the same in essence,
and changing only so far as change is necessarily implied
in a progressive and orderly development. It has no
parallel among the systems which have only existed for
comparatively short periods, and have been subject to
constant modifications of their essential character. It has
reached a vastly larger portion of the race than any one
of them. It has wrought far more deeply and effectively
8
115 
116      THE CHRISTIAN RE VELATION
so far as it has extended. We hb ave in this view, certainly,
a good ground for presuming at once its reality and its
intrinsic reasonableness and power.
Still further, a third fact lies before us in regard to the
asserted Christian revelation, which, fairly considered,
must predispose us to receive it. To the statement just
made, that it has entered deeply into the world's life, we
have to add, what is equally significant, that the effects
which it has wrought, both on individual man and on
society, have uniformly been salutary in a very eminent
degree.
That the principles of action, the spirit insisted on, and
the ends proposed in the Christian revelation are eminently
pure and noble, the stoutest unbelief has never hesitated
to acknowledge. That the influence of these things on
those with whose minds and hearts they are brought in
contact, must be very positive and eminently good, is of
course a necessary conclusion from the nature of the case.
The whole history of Christianity, and of Judaism as well,
is rich, moreover, in illustration of its actual effects. Let
it not be imagined that we are going about to show that
faith in revelation has not been sometimes founid asso iated with ignorance and superstition; and individual and
social degeneracy. We have no reluctance to the admission
that it has. But what we state is, and no intelligent person can dispute it, that the fact is patent that these evils
never have resulted, and never can result, from a belief in
revelation and the legitimate influence of the truths professedly revealed. As Christianity has come in contact
with mankind in all degrees of culture, it has been re 
TO BE PRESUMED DIVINE.
ceived by the ignorant, the superstitious, and the degraded
As its good influences can only operate in a gradual manner for the improvement of character, and as they are
liable to be impeded in their action by accidental causes
found in the particular outward condition of those who
may enjoy them, it may often happen in the case of any
individual or people, that although the process of improvement is steadily going forward, there are evils, great and
obvious, which have not been reached as yet. Unless it
appears that the evils referred to are the natural and
proper fruit of the influence of the Christian Scriptures,
or, at least, that this has no fitness nor tendency to effect
their ultimate removal, their existence in connection with
a belief in revelation, cannot rightfully create a prejudice
against the claim of that revelation to be real and divine.
But while Christianity does not appear at any time to
have delivered mankind at once and wholly, on the first
reception of it, from the evils under the power of which it
found them, the examples of its eminently salutary effects,
on both individual and social character, are, in all periods
of its history, abundant and acknowledged. When first
preached among the polytheistic, licentious, and generally
corrupt nations included in the Roman Empire, it ere long
did what the few moralists and sages of antiquity had
sought to do in vain; it gave a fatal blow to the popular
idolatry, and, in spite of venerable associations, and splendid shrines, and captivating ceremonies, it brought the
gods into general contempt, and left their temples to stand
empty and deserted. Then out of the degenerate masses
of the people it raised up vast multitudes, of both sexes,
117 
118          THE CHRISTIAN REVELATION
and of all ages and conditions, in whose lives the purest
virtues, and in whose sutfferings and deaths, in attestation
of the sincerity and strength of their belief, the sternest
and the noblest heroism were everywhere exhibited. All
this on the testimony of secular and unfriendly historians,
of imperial edicts and Roman annalists. The very highest
instances of unpretending goodness, of unfaltering steadiness of principle, of generous self-sacrifice, of obedience to
the sense of duty, of sublime courage to endure, are, by
common consent, admitted to abound in the authentic records of the noble army of Christian martyrs and confessors. These, too, are allowed to be the proper products
of Christianity, and not things incidentally connected
with it.
It has sometimes seemed, to careless or superficial
readers of history, that the state of the western nations of
the old world during the middle ages, when Christianity
had been established and generally diffused, was in conflict with the suppositio'  of its elevating power.   The
dark ages, they observe, succeeded the early and widelyextended triumphs of the cross.   Yes; but along with
this we have another fact that stands in equal prominence
beside it. The mighty deluge of barbarism that swept
over the Roman Empire was sufficiently vast in its extefint
to engulf, as in the bosom of a mighty ocean, all the elements and forces of the existing civilization, and Christianity among the rest. intellectual and moral twilight
was a necessary consequence; and it could not have been
otherwise than that a long period would be required in
order that Christianity, operating sim.ply as one restoring 
TO BE PRESUMED DIVINE.
energy in the abysses of this vast chaos, might make
itself distinctly seen and felt in its proper character and
influence. No wonder that a little leaven, overwhelmed
with a continent of meal, should be lorng, in pervading the
whole mass. That the influence of Christianity did much
to mitigate and to remove the horrors of the medieval
darkness, and that it has supplied many of the best ideas.
activities, and elevating forces of our modern civilization,
are facts about which there is no dispute among those
who are competent to offer an opinion. It is owing.in no
small measure, to state the matter very moderately, to +the
influence of Christianity, that humanity has so far
emerged from its deep and long eclipse.
It must be noted, too, that min the activity of that new
life and free expansion to which Christianity has again
attained, especially within the present century, she is producing in the sight of all men the same wonderful transformations of individual and social character, the same
spirit of benevolence, the same noble charities, the same
antagonism to evil, the same hopes and labours for the
welfare of mankind, the same virtues, culture, and refinement, and the same sober, intelligent, and healthful piety,
as in her early days. Never was it more manifest than
now that the legitimate fruits of the Christian revelation
are eminently salutary, are contributing richly to the wellbeing of the world. Can it be otherwise than rational to
presume that such a professed revelation will prove on
examination to be genuine'
Not less significant is a fourth fact whicl  presents
itself at the outset to the inquirer about tlhe Christian re
119 
THE CHTRISTIAN REVELATIOY
velation. It has thus far stood secure against all assaults
of those who have sought to overthrow it, although these
assaults have been many, persistent, and often conducted
with great ability and learning. Nothing pertaining to
the past is better known than that the attemnpt to storm
the citadel of revelation has been repeated till it seems to
have been assailed at every point; and that it still remains uncarried we have the witness of our own eyes and
ears.
The ancient prophets, each in his turn, encountered the
resistance of unbelief. They were charged with prophesying falsely in the name of God; of arrogating to themselves the office and authority of religious teachers, and
wishing to secure a pre-eminence of influence. They suffered persecution and sometimes death at the hands of
those who denied their divine authority. Yet their teachings lived, and gained and kept a place in the hearts of
multitudes.   When  Jesus  of  Nazareth  appeared and
claimed to be the predicted Messiah and the Redeemer
and Light of the world, a corrupt Judaism expressed the
strength of its hostility, the venom of its hate, by nailing
him, as if a malefactor, to the cross. When the apostles
and the primitive disciples began at Jerusalem the preaching of the word, they too were met with an equally determined and virulent opposition from those who, because not
understanding their own Scriptures, did not perceive that
Christianity was but the full development of the faith
delivered to their fathers. Yet steadily the Christian doctrines won their way.
Then followed the long and mighty struggle between
120 
TO BE PRESUMED D[VIVE.                   121
Christianity and the prevailing systems of philosophy and
religion throughout the Roman empire. It was a contest of life and death. From the nature of the case there
could be no compromise, no truce. The new must exterminate the old, or the old the new. On every ground on
which there seemed to be any hope of makin)g a stand
against the advancing Christian faith, a stand was made.
At every point imagined to be vulnerable the system was
pressed with direct attack Whatever might be done by
the civil power to resist and crush the Christian religion,
was done with unflinching determination and barbarity,
not only by the steady policy of the government, but by
those horrible and repeated seasons of persecution during
which the earth was deluged with martyr blood. Whatever might be achieved or hoped in the same direction by
the use of the pen, was attempted by learned and able
writers, such as Lucian, Celsus, Porphyry, Hierocles, and
others, who, not content with a defence of the popular
beliefs, assailed the religion of Christ with argument and
ridicule, with misrepresentation and abuse. Yet, after all,
the Christian faith held on its way and triumphed.
So it has been in the modern world. The wits, philosophers, and savans of France, in the last century, having
resolved, in a spirit of implacable hostility, to exterminate
all faith in the Christian revelation, assailed it with pungent satire, with the coarsest ribaldIy, with caricatures
introduced into the drama, and all the current forms of
popular literature, with the subtlety and acuteness of
philosophy, and with weapons alleged to be furnished by
the discoveries of modern science. English Deism, in a 
122      THE CHRISTIAN REVELA TI0ON
higher style of thought, with greater strength of reasoning, with no little real learning, enlisting champions who,
to great metaphysical acumen, added untiring patience and
fixed determination, attacked the  historical credit, the
supernatural credentials, and the asserted revelations of
the Christian Scriptures. There was no lack of will, or
talent, or diligent endeavour, for the entire demolition of
the venerable structure of truth accepted as from heaven.
Germany, with her unrivalled scholarship, her unflinching
boldness, her amazing keenness of analysis and tenuity of
thought, and her adventurous criticism, has so put to the
torture the historic records and the peculiar doctrines of
Christianity, as to make it impossible to conceive that any
more formidable trial can await them. And, finally, the
latest forms of German unbelief have flowed into the channels of English and American thought, and now for several
years have been making demonstrations against the popular
faith in a positive revelation.
What then is the result' Has the idea of a divine
revelation come to be scouted generally either by the most
intelligent and the best thinkers, or by the great mass of
ordinary people? Has a single pillar of Christianity, by
common acknowledgment, been removed out of its place?
Has one entrenchment undeniably been carried, or one
battery silenced, or one breastwork left in ruins? Who
affirms this?  Who believes it?  It is doubtless true,
that now, as always, there are some who reject revealed
religion. But it is equally obvious that the vast majority
of all who have at any time heartily believed Christianity,
believe it still, nay more, believe it the more intelligently 
TO BE PRESUMED DIVliVE.
and strongly because of the fierce assaults through which
it has been passing.   Observe we are not asserting that
Christianity is true, we are simply calling attention to the
fact that unbelief, though it has made the attempt so often
and with all imaginable weapons, has not yet proved it false,
nor even weakened its hold upon the mind and heart of
that part of the human race who have once intelligently
received it. Approaching Christianity to-day as an inquirer in relation to its truth, I see it standing, not shattered and tottering by the multiplied assaults of ages, but
as yet unharmed and safe; a Malakoff, that hitherto has
proved impregnable; or better still, a grand old rock that,
lying in mnid-ocean, and beaten by mighty surges through
successive centuries, still lifts its untroubled head in stern,
yet calm repose.  Is it not natural, then, since such I find
it, that I should come to this professedly divine religion,
with a strong presumption arising in my heart that what
it claims to be I shall actually find it when I have
thoroughly examined.
We will note but one thing mnore. It is a fact which
no one tolerably informed as to the condition and movements of the religious world will question, that at no
period of its history was Christianity more vital, more
powerful, more expectant and progressive, than at the
present time.   There may have been an intenser earnestness and loftier courage in the day of her primitive conquests; but then she was weak in numbers and resources.
To-day, her host is vast in multitude.   In position she is
strong; for she is openly recognised by the public sentiment of the most enlightened nations of the earth, and
123 
1''4     THE CHRISTIAN REEI,LATION
her principles are inwrought to a very great extent into
the governments and laws, the institutions, the policies,
the social life, in short, into the entire structure of civilization, by which these nations are distinguished.  How
vast the amount of genius and learning enlisted in her
service!  How large a portion of literature, and art, and
science is penetrated with her spirit!  How immense the
wealth at her command! How extensive and available
her opportunities and means of bringing her influence to
bear upon the world! Within the last half century she
seems to have awaked to new activity, and to have girded
up her loins for miore extended and energetic action. Converts to her are multiplied by hundreds of thousands in a
single year, and these not converts of the head only, but
of the heart. Her sacred books are translated into all the
chief languages of men.   Her efforts are more than ever
directed to the elevation and purification of social life,
and the recovery of the world to goodness, by the universal application of her forces.   Her plans are broad as the
world. Her heralds are found in the remote islands of the
sea, and in the centre of continents long covered with
thick darkness. The force of habit is coming to strengthen
the religious sentiment and conviction of her disciples, and
to give steadiness and power to their exertions. The success of her domestic and foreign missionary enterprises, are
stimulating her courage and inspiring her with hope. God,
in his providence, finally, has done so much to remove the
obstacles that in past ages checked her progress, that her
expansive energy is now almost literally working without
obstruction 
TO BE PRESEUMED DIVINE.
All this I see, you see, and all men see on every side.
This life, and vigour, and progressive energy of the systemni of religion which rests on that professed revelation
begun in the early ages of the world and completed in the
days of Christ and his apostles, is certainly a most noticeable fact. It cannot but make a strong impressioni on
every one who thoughtfully regards it Can falsehood be
imagined to have such vitality?   Could  anything but
truth have so sustained itself through the revolving cycles
of the past, that while empires, and dynasties, and cities,
and monuments, and even literatures have perished, this
should still seem as fresh as if immnortal, and as full of
activity and power as if in youth   Could anything have
maintained so permanent a hold on the intellect and heart
of the human race, a hold still growing firmer and giving
promise of ultimate ascendency, which itself was without
reality, a mere chimera.  It will surely be admiitted-that
taking what is called the Christian revelation as I find it,
living, operative, and steadily extending the circle of its
influence, while I bear in mind its history, there does
appear to be a very strong presumption that its claims to
be divine are just, before I begin to examine directly its
credentials.
Remember, then, that so much as this is settled. When
doubts have been excited, and you would seriously inquire
as to the truth of the Christian revelation, you have no
right, at this period of Christian history, to assume that
the probability is all against it, and to call on Christianity
to furnish proofs that may convince you, while in such a
state of mind, beyond all cavil. She has her proper cre
125 
1N    ETHE CHRISTIAN REVELATION
dentials, doubtless, if she be indeed from heaven, and she
will not hesitate to show them. But since the facts of
her ancient origin, of her perpetual power, of her salutary
influence, of her steadfastness amidst attacks, and of her
present vigour and advancing growth, create so strong a
presumption in her favour, she is fairly entitled to take
the benefit of her position.   She imay rightfutlly throw the
burden of proof on you.   She nmay demand, with justice,
that you shall admit her claims until you shall be able conclusively and finally to overthlrow tlemn; until you can
rationally account for her origin and character, her progressive life and action,-in short, for all the wonderful
phenomena of her past and present existence. When you
shall have seriously attempted this, you will have put
yourself in a position to appreciate the proofs direct and
positive, which she will then hold herself prepared to offer
you.
Deal fairly, then, when you approach with yourinquiries
the Christian revelation. You see at a glance how venerable it is-going back for its beginnings to the morning
of the world. You know that in its light, and hope, and
inspiration, humanity has been exalted, intellect and genius
quickened, art and science born, individual and social life
ennobled, and truth and justice, benevolence and moral
virtue in all forms, promoted among men.  You have it in
certain knowledge, that millions of the wisest, the greatest,
and the best of earth-millions of the poor, the sorrowful,
the oppressed-millions of every capacity, condition, and
age, have found in heartily believing it new life and pure
affections, a solid inward peace, tranquillity amidst life's 
TO BE PRESUMED DIVIATE.
fiercest Storms, and deep serenity of soul, or joyful exultation, in the darkness and agony of death. Admit, then,
to yourself, that, with all these facts before you, the presumption is so strong in favour of its truth, that it is most
unreasonable to ask for such an amount and kind of imnmediate proof as would leave no possibility of cavil.
Enough if it be found sustained by evidence which must
convince and satisfy a truly honest and impartial mind.
Consider, too, that if the Christian revelation, as it has
been received for ages, is divine, it must be the greatest of
misfortunes to reject it as a fable. If it be indeed a sun
kindled of God to illuminate the moral darkness of our
world, it will shine on to cheer, and warm, and bless the
happy multitudes who welcome it, though you shall avert
your eyes and hide from its beams in the thick shades of
unbelief.  You have nothing-nothing-to gain if it be
false. You have everything to hope for life, for death, for
an immortality beyond, if, as you have been taught from
childhood to believe, it is indeed a real utterance, a precious gift of the everliving God to man. May God enable
every one of you to say with full conviction, "The word
of God is heard in the Christian Scrip)tures.  For we iave
not followed cuniingiy devised Ifab"  l"
127 
128    CHP, ISTIANITY A UTHENTICA TED IN
VIII.
(Gtfsfa f auftifcati              t,t Abe pert
of iAl Vobtr.
JoHN vi. 67-69: These said Jesus unto the twelve, WCill ye also go away?
Then Simon Peter answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go? 2Thou
hast the words of eternal lfe.  And we believe and are sure that thou
art that Christ, the Son of the living God.
AMONG  those who attended on the ministry of Christ
there were found, it appears, two sorts of professed
disciples. There were some who were ready to attach
themselves to him as followers, that were disciples of the
understanding merely. They had observed his personal
character. They had been struck with the extraordinary
wisdom of his teachings. They had witnessed many of
his mighty works, and had listened to the expositions he
had given of many passages in the prophets as pointing
to himself. On the whole, it seemed to them that the
evidence of his Messiahship preponderated; and they were
inclined to reckon themselves as his adherents.
The other class were, in some degree at least, disciples
of the Spirit.  With views of his character and mission as
yet exceedingly defective in some particulars, they nevertheless felt the divine power of the doctrines which he
taught.   In the consciousness which they found deep
within themselves that his words were indeed spirit and
life to the soul, there was an inward witness that he came 
TEE EXPERIENCE OF ITS POWER.
from heaven-the ground of a profound and heartfelt conviction that he was really the Christ of God.
There is nothing to excite surprise in the fact that those
whose profession of discipleship was merely speculative
and intellectual were brought to a stand, and even led to
abandon Christ by difficulties. Their own power to understand what Jesus did and said was the measure of their
faith. So long as they saw and heard nothing which they
did not seem to themselves to comprehend-nothing which
puzzled and perplexed them-they were ready to admit
his claims. But when he uttered in their hearing truths
which were so spiritual and so repugnant to their sensuous
apprehensions, as those which related to the receiving of
his body and blood as the condition, and the elements of
life, their understandings were confounded; and because
of this, they forthwith turned back, and concluded that
they had been deceived. This was entirely natural.
But in regard to those who were driven to attach themselves to Christ by an inward perception of something
divine in his person and his ministry, and by the response
which his teachings awakened in their own moral natures,
the case was wholly different. The faith of these did not
rest on mere convictions of the intellect.  It had a far
deeper and more certain ground. Because this was the
fact; because their inmost hearts felt the divinity which
was in Christ, awtd their moral natures recognised and
witnessed to the certainty of what he taught, it was not
possible that any difficulties should overturn their con
fidence and drive them from him. Their understandings
might be baffled; strange mysteries, and even apparent
129 
130       CHRISTIANITY A UTHENTICA TED 1N
impossibilities and contradictions, might confront them.
But what then? After all, there remained a voice in their
own consciousness, which gave decisive and persistent
witness to the Messiahship of Christ, and to the truth of
the doctrines he delivered; so that when the question was
propounded as is related in the text-will ye also go away?
-it was altogether natural that they should answer as
they did, repelling the thought of such a thing at once.
It was, for them, impossible not to feel that to turn away
from Christ) whatever perplexities might press them for
the moment, would be to act in known and flagrant opposition to the truth. They could not but believe what they
themselves had felt as vital truth in their inmost souls.
To go away from one who had the words of eternal life,
and in regard to whom they were able to say, We believe
and are sure that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living
God, seemed nothing short of the most preposterous folly.
Here, then, we have presented to our thoughts a most
important fact; this, namely, that those who really enter
into the spirit of Christianity, and feel somewhat of its
true impression on their souls, find, in their own experience of its power, the most conclusive and satisfying proof
that it is indeed a divine religion. We wish, in the present discourse, to set forth this fact distinctly.   It is no
part of our purpose to undervalue the various other kinds
of evidence on which the certainty of the Christian revelation rests; but simply to insist that even leaving these
aside, the gospel in itself-in its own peculiar power and
life-does carry directly to the soul that cordially receives
it, the undeniable credentials of divinity; does generate 
TIHE EXPERIENCE OF ITS POWER.
within an experimental consciousness in which there is
good and sufficient warrant for a firm, unfaltering faitha faith which places the suggestion of an abandonment of
Christ in the light of a sheer absurdity.
First, then, let us set before us, as distinctly as we can,
the state of an intelligent and thoughtful person who as
yet has not heartily received the gospel.    He has been
led, we will suppose, to some degree of acquaintance with
himself, and to some serious reflections on the destiny
that may await him.
What, then, are his convictions and feelings?  What
sort of a self-consciousness has he? What are the obstacles
he finds in the way of being satisfied and happy?
He has, first of all, a deep and painful conviction that
he is out of his right relations to God and to the universe.
He has not, perhaps, very definite apprehensions of the
nature and extent of the moral obligations he is under.
He does not understand precisely what God would have
him be and do. But yet he knows enough to know that
the main drift of both his inward and his outward life is
wrong; so that he is by no means such a being as he
should be. That he wants delight in God; that he lacks
the moral qualities which belong to a holy being; that
with a strange and humiliating depravity of moral appetite, he is prone continually to what is evil; he is quite
distinctly conscious; anid all this, he is convinced, should
be directly the reverse. He is, therefore, self-condemnned.
Conscience, whenever he listens to her voice, declares that
he is a guilty creature. Of course he also feels that God
condemns him, and that justly. The ineffable holiness of
9
131 
132   CHRISTIANITY A UTHENTICA TED IN
the divine character, when he turns his thoughts in that
direction, awakens emotions of terror only-none of love
-within his heart. If he reads or hears the law of God,
and ponders on its import, it is only to perceive that the
weight of its condemnation, the terrible wrath which it
denounces, rests upon himself; and so, turn where he
will, resort to what he will, he has a wearying, crushing
burden on his soul.
Along with this, he has the consciousness of moral
weakness too. Instead of healthful and tender sensibilities, there is within him the coldness of a death-like
apathy. Instead of activity and power to undertake and
to perform the right, he seems to himself benumbed and
palsied, as it were, and impotent to good. The harmony
of his being is all gone; and like a piece of complicated
mechanism, whose wheels have lost their original adjustment, and no longer play aright into each other, his moral
faculties are all ajar, and will not be combined for the
working out of good.  His occasional better impulses are
overborne by the power of evil. He is in bondage to corruption. It is in vain that he sometimes resolves and
makes some struggles to get free. Such efforts come to
nothing, and only serve to show him how heavy and how
strong the chains that bind him are. He finds, as a fact of
fearful omen, that by a law that reigns within him, when
he would do good, evil is present with him.
Still further, in addition to all this, he feels deep in his
soul desires the most insatiable and restless. With all
his efforts he has not been able in the least to appease the
sense of inward want. He has often fancied that he was 
THE EXPERIENCE OF ITS POWER.                133
going to do it speedily; but he has always found himself
deceived. No pleasures of sense, no gratifications of
imagination and of taste, no heights of honour or of
power, no treasures of knowledge, no gifts of genius consciously possessed, no affluence and magnificence of wealth;
not any, nor all, of the many forms of finite good which
surround him on all sides, and of which he has been able
to make experiment, or form a judgment, appear when
carefully examined at all adapted to satisfy the craving
which lie feels. He is sure, at last, that they cannot do
it. His longings are for something congenial with the
highest and the strongest instincts of his spiritual nature.
It is something vast, something noble, something infinitely
grand and lovely, something holy and divine, and enduring as eternity itself, that he is reaching after. He knows
not what it is, nor where, nor how, he is ever going to
find it. Yet he perceives that so long as such appetites
are burning unsatisfied within his soul, he never can have
rest, never can even approximate to a state of happiness.
Look where he will, try what he will, his heart yearneth
evermore.
Such is a very general, and of course a very imperfect
sketch, of the state of an enlightened and seriously reflecting person, who has not as yet received Christ and the
gospel to his heart. What with the sense of guilt that
haunts him, the want of moral strength and freedom
which he feels, and the consciousness of necessities that
nothing he has found will satisfy, he has in his own
bosom all the ingredients of a hopeless wretchedness-the
elements indeed of hell itself. There needs nothing but 
134    CHRISTIANITY AUTHENTICATED IN
the steady march of time, as he all too plainly sees, to fill
up the measure of his iniquity and his despair.
Now let us, in the second place, suppose that this same
person is led, through divine grace, heartily to believe the
gospel-to make the actual experiment of its power upon
himself. He accepts Christianity as a system really from
God. He sees in its provisions a ground of hope for him.
He commits his soul to Christ, as the New Testament
directs, and believes the promise that through his sacrifice
and mediation, he shall be accepted of God, and sanctified
and saved. He is now a Christian, in the true and
spiritual meaning of the term. He has begun to know, by
its influence felt within him, how much efficiency the gospel
really has, as a means of relief for necessities like his.
What then is the result? What has he found in Christ,
and in his word 2
He has found, first, pardon and justification. At the
sight of Jesus, God's own Son, voluntarily suffering in
his stead-bearing his iniquity-dying to redeem him
from the curse-he feels that mercy may be shown to
him- a sinner, and yet divine justice be untarnished.
His own conscience is satisfied.  The law of God he perceives is honoured without his punishment. His heart,
once cold and hard, is melted now; and he weeps warm,
gushing tears of genuine contrition, while he gazes long
and tenderly on the great atoning sacrifice. Now the
pressure of his conscious guilt is gone. His sins are not
forgotten;  he never-never can forget them.   Nor has
he ceased to feel that they are hateful; on the contrary,
he loathes them more and more. But they do not make 
THE EXPERIENCE OF ITS POWER.
Iim wretched now. They do not fill his soul with fears.
The thunders of the law are hushed. When he ventures
to look upward to the holy throne of God, he meets the
greeting smile of a Father reconciled, and perceives that
he is now acknowledged as a child of the Most High.
In short, he is the blessed man whose iniquities are forgiven, whose sin is covered, and to whom there remaineth
no more condemnation. He is justified by faith and has
peace with God-a consciousness of inward harmony, both
with his character and government.
He has found, too, inward grace-the grace of the
Holy Ghost-which has now begun to work effectually in
that weak, disordered, fettered soul of his, that but a little
while before was so powerless in relation to all good.
The pulses of new life have begun to beat within his
heart. The Spirit that he]peth his infirmities, has so
quickened his moral sensibilities, that now they feel the
impression of holy objects. The enfeebled powers have
received new vigour; and by the healthful stimulus of
holy love are urged into activity in the attempt to meet
the demands of duty. If there are yet conflicts, many
conflicts, in his heart, yet sin no longer reigns there.
His enemies give back. The all-sufficient grace of Christ
sustains his feebleness, and enables him not only to maintain his ground, but to gain successive victories. In a
word, he who before was in a miserable bondage, and
could not break his bands, has now begun to taste the
freedom of the holy; is fast becoming divested of all
his fetters; and in the strength of God, already exults in
the prospect of certain and complete deliverance. He
135 
136   CCHRISTIANITY A UTHENTICATED IN
feels himself, in this respect, a new creature in Christ
Jesus.
Finally, the person whose case we are supposing, in
nmaking trial of Christ and of his gospel, has found the
inward satisfaction which his craving soul desired. We
do not mean to say that his satisfaction is yet perfect.
In the earlier stages of his Christian life, the influences of
the Christian scheme of grace and truth have only begun
to reach and affect his heart; and of course have only
answered their end in part. Bilt so much as this is true.
This man who just now felt that he had appetites that
never yet had found their proper objects; who felt the
inexpressible longings of a soul whose profoundest wants
were wholly unrelieved; this restless, hungry, thirsty,
often baffled and deeply disappointed spirit, has now at
last discovered a full supply of the very good he craves.
He has found and recognised the bread of life. He has
come to the gushing fountain of sweet waters, and at once
perceives that this will slake effectually his so long
quenchless thirst. He no longer has occasion to weary
himself with fruitless searchings. It only now remains
that he eat and drink till he is filled and satisfied,-till
his soul rests because it has nothing to desire.
Thus, then, the man who before he tried for himself
the efficacy of Christianity as a remedy for his distresses,
was oppressed with a consciousness of guilt, was held
through moral weakness in a gTievous vassalage to evil,
and was tortured constantly by cravings that could not be
appeased; has found, on actually admitting the gospel to
his heart, his sense of guilt removed, his shattered nature 
THE EXPERIENCE OF ITS POWER.
raised up and disenthralled, and his famishing spirit put
in possession of a full supply of congenial and satisfying
good. He has received into his soul, with Christ and the
gospel, the germs of immortal life and the beginnings of
an immortal blessedness. This, he has learned by his own
personal experience, is what Christianity can do for a
sinful man like him.
With such a case before us as this which we have stated
-and this is only the case of ordinary occurrence-we are
put in a position to see and feel the force of the experimental argument for the truth and value of the gospeL
Here is a man who, when he was guilty, helpless, and
pining with inward want, has been induced to make trial
of the Christian method of relief. He has come to Christ
for help, and thankfully accepted the provisions of his
gospel. In doing this he has found effectual deliverance
from his miseries; the very deliverance he sought. He
has reached the very happiness which his soul instinctively demanded, and which he had ranged creation over,
all in vain, to find. There is no mistake in this. He
was wretched; he is at peace. He was in galling chains;
he is in glorious liberty. He was perishing of inward
hunger; he is rejoicing in a satisfaction that is in its
nature pure and full, and needs only to be made complete
in measure.
And now, suppose you go to him with difficulties; you
try to shake his confidence in the divinity of the Christian scheme; you object to the mysteries it involves.
You  point to its hard sayings.   You tell him of the
uncertainties of human testimony; of the liability of hi
.137 
138    CHRISTIANITY A UTBEN',-CATED IN
tory, and even of records to corruption; of antagonism
between Christian doctrine and the teachings of reason
and philosophy; of myths and allegories converted into
narratives of facts, and so on to the end of all that you can
urge; and what, when you have done? Can you destroy
his consciousness? Can you take from him the memory
of the past, or change the reality of the present? Can
you convince him that he never has experienced what he
knows that he has experienced as well as he knows that
he exists?  Will anything constrain him to believe that
He was not from heaven, whose word and Spirit have
wrought with such heavenly energy upon himself? that
that gospel is not from God which has had power to
recover his poor wandering soul to holy life and happiness
in God, and to fit it to serve and enjoy him even as the
angels? No; none of all these things is it possible to do
-in the case of one who has really had experience of the
effect of the gospel heartily received. Just in proportion
to the clearness and certainty of the experience, will be,
in each particular case, the strength of the conviction that
Jesus is indeed the Son of God, and that in him there is
help and hope for all the sinful and the suffering who will
take him as their Saviour. You may as well convince
the recovering patient, that the balm which has soothed
and healed his smarting wounds, is poison; as well persuade a man who was famished, but has eaten and been
nourished into strength again, that the food which has
refreshed him and satisfied his appetite is innutritious
and unwholesome, as bring the thoroughly experimental
Christian to conciude that the gospel is not true. It is in 
THE EXPERIENCE OF ITS POWER.
this way that we explain the fact-at which unbelief has
sometimes sneered-that thousands have lived and died in
a tranquil and unfaltering faith, who never read or heard
a formal argument for the truth of their religion, and were
almost wholly uninstructed in the historic proofs.  Let it
not be falsely said that they have been believers without
evidence-mere dotards, who believed because they were
so taught. The furthest possible from this is true. They
had the highest kind of evidence on which to rest their
faith.  Instead of raising questions about the gospel, they
put it to the test. They actually tried its saving power,
and found it mighty to restore their souls; and so they
knew it to be divinely true. It was enough for them
that it assuaged their inward anguish; that it dried their
tears of sorrow; that it gave them life, and power, and
freedom, along with the peace of God that passeth understanding; that it stripped death of its chief terrors, and
enabled them to see, far over the dark waters, the shining
gates and the serene abodes of heaven. They knew in
whom they had believed.
This, then, you will perceive, is the alternative which is
presented to the mind of every person who has so entered
into the spirit of Christianity as really to have felt its
power; when the question of its truth is agitated, namely,
to consent to bear the miseries and wants of which the
sinful soul is conscious, unrelieved; or quietly to rest
upon the truth of that which gives him the relief he
needs, unto the end. Precisely in this way the matter
presented itself to the disciples according to the text
Will ye also go away I was the question asked to test
139 
140    CHRISTIANITY A UTHENTICA TED IN
them.  Lord, to whom shall we go? was the replyThou hast the words of eternal life. Nothing to be found
away from  Christ-all to be found in Christ:   Who
would consent to turn away from blessedness when he
has found it, or entertain the idea at all, that that which
blesses him supremely is mere falsehood and deceit. A
wise man must answer in this manner: Ask me to go
away from Christ and disbelieve his words!  Go where?
I must demand. I cannot go to Paganism. Its systems,
even the most ancient and refined of them, have become
effete and dead, besides that they are grovelling and
mean. I cannot go to Judaism. The vail of its temple
has been rent, and it is only a body from which the spirit
has departed. I cannot go to Atheism; ah, no, for it
crushes the soul's last hope iid fills the universe with
gloom. I cannot go to Deism; it offers nothing to relieve
my conscience, or warm my soul with life. I cannot go
even to philosophy, however plausibly and acutely she
discourses; she will but freeze my heart amidst her cold
abstractions, or leave me hopelessly bewildered in her labyrinths to starve. I cannot go to any creature, nor any
finite thing; not even an angel could give me the relief I
need, and my desires cry out for something as a good that
is infinite and divine. Where, then-oh, tell me where I
am to go, when I turn my back upon the gospel. In
Christ I find just what I cannot do without-eternal life.
Why should I let it go? How can I for an instant doubt
that He is truth itself who brings me this great gift?  He
must be the true Saviour of the world who has delivered
me from sin and wrath, has brought me into sympathy 
THE EXPERIENCE OF ITS POWER.
and peace with God, and has given me the beginnings of
a full and satisfying blessedness. Ah, yes, thou in whom
I have found salvation! I believe and am sure, that thou
art that Christ the son of the living God!
It is thus that our holy religion, the faith of Jesus
Christ, authenticates itself to those who make a fair experiment of its power. It so meets the entire necessities
of the sinful human soul, as to leave nothing more to be
desired.  Its efficacy is the absolute demonstration of its
truth.
It may then easily be seen where those who follow
Christ may find the cause of their occasional misgivingsof the questionings and doubts, which, perhaps, in their
darker hours, disturb them. If we, who are believers, are
sometimes so disturbed;  if now and then the mists of
uncertainty seem to gather in our spiritual horizon, one of
two things, it is obvious, must be true. Either the experience which we have of the effects of the gospel on the
soul  is very small, or else we  have not  sufficiently
attended to it and reflected on its import. No doubt,
with far too many of us the first is the realr truth. It is
but very poorly that we have tested the power of Christ
and of the gospel. We have not entered deeply and
earnestly enough into the spirit of the vital and peculiar
Christian truths. We have given too little time and
thought to the right understanding of their application to
ourselves. We have not studied Christ enough; we have
not listened to his words enough; and hence our Christian
experience lacks depth, and definiteness, and certainty. If
this be so, no wonder that the testimony which our ex
141 
142    CiRISTIANITY A UTHENTICA TED IN
perience gives, is faltering. It will only speak out with
distinct, and firm, and decisive tones, -when our whole
hearts are subjected to the influence of the gospel.
But, it may be, that with some the other supposition is
the true one. There may be some who have entered
deeply into the spirit of Christ and the Christian doctrines,
and yet have painful perplexities at times. Objections
are urged, perhaps, on grounds of philosophy or history,
which they do not know how to answer, and doubts
of one sort and another are suggested, which though repelled disturb their peace, while it hardly occurs to them
to look within them for the ground of an unfaltering confidence.
If such is the case of any of us who have believed, what
we should do is plain.  Instead of listening to vain cavils,
or even to real difficulties, urged upon us, we have just to
stop and seriously consider what has been wrought in us
-what we ourselves have felt. We have followed Christ.
We have gazed upon his glory. We have availed ourselves of his bleeding sacrifice and have come through
him to God, and what has the effect been? What has
this gospel done for us?  Ah-now the light breaks on
us. We see that nothing but God's own truth can have
wrought so mightily, so savingly in us; and we plant our
feet, as it were, anew upon the Rock of Ages, and feel it
more  than  ever solid and secure.   Let us see to it,
that we have a thorough Christian experience, and
that we use it to the honour of our Master, as we
ought.
Nor can we fail to detect the error involved in the plea 
THE EXPERIENCE OF ITS POWER.                 143
which many urge, that they cannot receive the gospel
because they have some speculative objections which
have not yet been answered. Men often seem to think
that this plea is entirely valid; and yet, if the view which
we have taken be a just one, it is altogether futile. For
we have seen that the easiest and the surest way to
ascertain whether the gospel be divine, is actually to try
it, for the restoration and the comfort of our souls. A
sick man may have doubts about the power of the remedy
which is prescribed. What, then, shall he stop and discuss
it at all points? Then he may die before the discussion
is gone through. No-he must take the remedy at once,
and try its virtue; and if he feels it easing his keen distress-if he feels the genial glow of health returning
throuigh its influence-then his objections are all answered.
It is precisely so in relation to the gospel. Shall a man
who is ready to die under the burden of his guilt and
misery, and who sees that the universe of creatures can
give him no relief, refuse to make trial of Christ and of
his word till he gets absolute demonstration at all points
that Christianity is a divine provision? It ought to be
enough that there is reasonable ground of hope that
Christianity is true, 0 hesitating child of sin and suffering,
to decide you to try its efficacy on you. Without it you
are sure to sink under the weight of your iniquity into
eternal death. You have seen yourself what changes it
has wrought in others. You have seen the wretched,
when brought to receive it heartily, made to rejoice with
a joy that words could not express. You have seen those
who have believed transformed in their temper and their 
144    CHRISTIANITY A UTHENTICA TED IN
lives, and made examples of purity and goodness. So far
the experience of others is available, as proof, to you. It
is weak, as well as infinitely hazardous, to delay a reception of the gospel for the sake of resolving doubts, when
the truth may be known with certainty by comnling at once
and placing your soul under the full impression of its
power.
Ah! you who have stood querying and lingering when
you should have fairly and sincerely tried the way of life
proposed in Jesus Christ, be persuaded to make the great
experiment, while time and opportunity are granted. The
witness of thousands and thousands who 7tave made it, is
given to the truth of the blessed gospel. Martyrs, from
out the fires that have burned their bodies into ashes,
have testified of its blessed fruits in them; and dying
saints, many whom you yourselves have known and loved,
who have built their hopes on Christ and his rich promises,
have whispered with their pallid lips the words of a full
assurance. They have declared, as they went down into
the dark waters, that there was an end of all their fears;
and their last accents have been those of conscious victory
and joy.
But what, on the contrary, has been the testimony,
when testimony has been given, of those who have gone
from Christ and from his gospel? It has been the expression of bitter disappointment. They have fourd that
all other trusts were vain. Just in the time of their
greatest need, they have seen, with the deepest anguish,
their reliances all failing them at once; the foundations
on which they had rested have dissolved beneath their 
THE EXPERIENCE OF ITS POWER.
feet; and their hopes of eternal life have perished. So
shall it be with you, if you will follow in their footsteps.
Come, then, with your -ins and your necessities, and let
it be to-day the language of your hearts, To whom, Lord,
shall we go, if we turn away from thee? Thou hast the
words of eternal life. We believe, and are sure. that thou
art the Christ, the Son of the living God,
145 
146   CHRISTIANITY A RELIGION OF FA CT&S
C >ristianit  a Rti,   of Wn af.
JoHN iii 11:  Verily, verily, I say uinto thee, we speak that we do
know, and testify that we have seen.
HESE were the words of the great Author of Chris     tianity. He had just explained to Nicodemnus the
necessity of the new and spiritual birth in order to an
admission into his kingdom. That master in Israel, not
clearly understanding what he meant, or wishing to draw
him into larger discourse on a topic of such interest,
queried, as if doubtingly, as to the possibility of what he
taught. This gave the divine Teacher occasion to protest,
in the most emphatic manner, that in what he delivered
to the world he spoke, not as uttering mere opinions, but
as testifying to facts of which he had personal and perfect
knowledge.   It was precisely in this particular that he
was so incomparably superior, as an instructor of mankind, not only to the doctors of the Jewish synagogue,
but to all the philosophers and moralists of the various
Gentile schools. They discussed, reasoned, and conjectured. They dealt in subtle speculations, in nice distinctions, in ingenious inferences, in learned and elaborate
research. In the end, however, they arrived at very few
sure conclusions. It was no rare thing that they contradicted each other, perplexed themselves, and confounded
IS. 
CHRISTIANITY A RELIGION OF FACTS.
their disciples. Ever learning, as they imagined, they
were never able to come to the certain knowledge of the
truth.
It was widely different with Christ. Never man spake
like this man-was the extorted confession of his enemies. In plain and simple language, and by the help of
the most familiar illustrations, he set before men the great
essential facts in regard to their moral condition, necessities, and duties; as the faithful and true witness, giving
testimony to what he knew as certainties. Appealing to
the mighty works which he publicly performed in proof
of his divine commission, and declaring himself to be the
Lord from heaven, he insisted that he spake what he did
know, and testified what he had seen. There is no alternative, therefore, but that we either reject him, in the face
of all evidence, as an intentional and base impostor, or
else admit, without the smallest qualification, the facts to
which he gave such positive and always earnest witness.
Christianity, then, the religion of Jesus Christ, is essentially a religion of facts. It is as an embodiment and
presentation of facts positive and certain, that it is
addressed to men, and that faith in it is demanded. On
this view, as distinctly set forth in the words of Christ
which have been quoted, I wish to insist in this discourse.
First in order, it may be needful to illustrate somewhat
the meaning of this statement; and all the more because
we apprehend that it may strike some persons, even of
those who are most familiar with the Scriptures, strangely.
A very considerable part of the New Testament is occupied with the statement and discussion of laws and prin
10
147 
148   CHRISTIANITY A RELIGION OF FACTS.
ciples, and with the specification and enforcement of
particular moral duties; and hence it is doubtless true
that many are wont to think of the Christian religion as a
system of difficult and abstruse truths, exceedingly numerous and complicated, and many of them, at least, even
beyond the comprehension of ordinary minds. This impression, however, is at once widely at variance with the
truth, and most pernicious in its influence. It produces
often a feeling of discouragement in thoughtful mnainds, a
despair of ever being able to receive the gospel in an intelligible manner, and of course an aversion to the study
of the Scriptures.
It is, indeed, to be readily admitted that there are in
the New Testamnent elaborate, profound, and even in some
degree obscure discussions, together with a large amount
of purely ethical instruction. But it will be seen, if the
matter be considered, that this is by no means inconsistent with the statement that Christianity is, as to its substance, distinctively a religion of facts.   For  the facts
themselves, that constitute the pith and moment of the
system, may be few and simple and easy of apprehension;
while their relations to each other, to universal truth, and
to the practical purposes of life, may afford a wide field
for inquiry and discussion. It may be true, it is true, we
affirm, that the rich doctrinal and ethical discourses which
form so large a part of the writings of the apostles, do
find their premises in certain cardinal facts which may be
very distinctly stated and very clearly understood. Take
away these facts and the whole system falls and comes to
nothing.  In them, therefore, the essence of Christianity 
CHRISTIANITY A RELIGION OF FA4 CTS.               149
does lie; and when we say that it is essentially a religion
of facts, we mean to assert that the facts referred to form,
so to speak, the staple material, the substance of which it
is composed, the ground of its discussions and practical
appeals. Assuming some facts as revealed in nature, and
discoverable by reason, or written on the heart, it connects
with these others before unknown, and many of them beyond the reach of the highest human wisdom. These
disclosures of facts unknown, revelations in the strictest
sense, are the grand distinction of the Christian Scriptures.
It is to these that the Bible, as a whole, owes its peculiar
and inestimable value. Their certainty rests on no human
discovery, no logical deduction, no insight of reason; but
is established by the direct and explicit testimony of God
himself, the God of infinite knowledge and absolute
veracity.
HIere, then, as a second step, we come to the inquiryWhat are these facts the assertion of which, with divine
authority, is the distinguishing peculiarity of the Christian
religion? We ought to be able to set them definitely
before us.
Assuming as manifest to reason, and strongly re-asserting the existence, personality, and infinity of God, Christianity declares, as facts, the following things
It teaches, as a fact, that God exists eternally as Father,
Word, and Spirit; or that there is a trinity in the unity
of the Godhead.
It teaches, as a fact, that God administers a perfect and
universal government over the worlds of matter and of
mind; a government of natural and moral law. 
150    CHRISTIANITY A RELIGION OF FACTS.
It teaches, as a fact, that, in the universe of mind,
benevolent love is the grand harmonizing force, the legitimate result of which is perfection of character and state,
or holiness and happiness, in other words; and that selfishness is the great antagonistic and disturbing force, the
legitimate result of which is imperfection of character and
state, or sin and misery.
It teaches, as a fact, that the whole human race is
naturally in a state of moral ruin; having fallen entirely
from the state of benevolent love, and into the state of
reigning selfishness, and so from happiness to misery as
their inevitable ultimate condition, unless deliverance come
from without themselves.
It teaches, as a fact, that Jesus of Nazareth was God
incarnate, the Word made flesh; and that in his sufferings
and death an atonement was made for human sin, which
has rendered the exercise of mercy towards repenting sinner& consistent with the sense of right in God and man,
and with general justice and good government.
It teaches, as a fact, that Christ rose from the dead,
and ascended into heaven, where he now lives and reigns
as Head of the Christian economy.
It teaches, as a fact, that the Holy Spirit of God is sent
to make an effectual application of the atonement, by the
renewing and sanctification of those who shall be saved.
It teaches, as a fact, that the resurrection of Christ was
a type and pledge of the resurrection of all mankind, and
that this sublime event stands immediately connected
with a general judgment and eternal retributions of happiness or misery. 
CHRISTIANITY A RELIGION OF FACTS.
It teaches, finally, as a fact, that the gospel is ultitnately to reach the whole world with its benefits, and to
elevate and bless the entire race on earth in a very high
degree.
There are many minor facts which are either necessarily involved in these, or more or less remotely connected
with them. But these appear to be the leading cardinal
facts to which Christianity gives authoritative witness, and
which are the foundation and the substance of what is
peculiar in the system. Considering how vast the reach
and moment of the scheme, they are wonderfully few and
simple. They are stated with great distinctness, may be
clearly understood, and readily remembered. They are
mere facts, affirmed in plain statements of what actually
is. They are not problems submitted to reason for solution. They are not dogmas as they are sometimes a little
contemptuously called.   There has been, no doubt, an
abundance of dogmatism in the discussions held as to the
significance and the relations of these facts; and many
dogmas of human origin, miserable and worthless, have
sometimes been connected with them in the multifarious
discussions of the schools. But we should always carefully discriminate between the clearly stated facts of
divine revelation and all the reasonings and philosophies
about them. The former will remain unchanged though
the latter be scattered to the winds.
In nature, we well know, there are certain facts which
are obvious and not to be disputed; such as relate, for
example, to attraction, light, heat, organization, animal
and vegetable life and a thousand other things. These
151 
152    CHRISTIANITY A RELIGION OF FACTS.
facts are the essential things in the natural world; the
basis of all true knowledge, and of all sound philosophy
in reference to such matters. They lie at the foundation
of all reasoning and judgment in the practical affairs of
life, and are the ground of all wise action. They are the
realities of nature.
Just so the facts to which we have alluded as being
authoritatively taught in the Christian system, are the
realities of the moral and spiritual world; some of them
partially discoverable by reason, all of them known perfectly by God, and by him explicitly revealed. We speak
that we do know, says Christ, and testify that we have
seen.   By the testimony  of the senses  we  learn  the
facts of the material universe. By the testimony of God
himself we learn the facts of the spiritual and moral
universe.
The latter are not less certain than the former; nor is
the knowledge of them less necessary to the real welfare
of mankind.   Those persons who, with an air of superior
wisdom, decry the Christian doctrines, that is to say, the
great facts of Christianity, as of very little consequence as
regards a Christian life, exhibit precisely the same stupidity as if they should assert that, as regards our natural life,
the facts and laws of nature are of little or no importance. Were it not so common an occurrence, it would
seem incredible that any intelligent person could give
utterance to so shallow and absurd a sentiment.
It is, in truth, only when Christianity is regarded as an
authoritative setting forth of the most material facts in the
mnoral world, that its admirable adaptation to the wants of 
CHIRISTIANIVTY A RELIGION OF FACTS.
all mankind can be appreciated fully. Let this be carefully considered.   No  system of abstruse doctrines, of
subtle and nicely elaborated philosophy, or of truths
recondite in their nature, or resting on proofs remote and
difficult of apprehension, could ever be applicable to men
of all conditions throughout  the world.   Views  and
opinions which one individual, or one people, might be
able to understand and to receive, might be entirely unsuited to the genius, the culture, or the capabilities of
another. There are such wide diversities among mankind in these respects, that to human wisdom, the idea of
giving a religious system which should be equally adapted
to the barbarous and the civilized, the ignorant and the
learned, the weak in intellect and the strong in intellect,
would probably have seemed, beforehand, entirely impracticable, if not absurd.
But God is wiser than men. It is one of the decisive
marks of its divine origin which the Christian religion
carries with it, that it is a complete realization of this very
idea of availability for all. Wonderful as it is in the
grandeur and interest of its disclosures, vast as are the
regions of thought which it opens or suggests, and mighty
as its influence is seen to be wherever it is heartily received, a few distinctly stated facts, as we have seen, make
up the sum and substance of what is peculiar to the
system.   But simple facts all men  can apprehend and
feel, if not with the same facility, and to precisely the
same extent, yet so as to experience their practical effects
on the character and life. It has been found by actual
experiment that the Hottentot, the Greenlander, the
153 
154   CHRISTIANITY A RELIGaIO  OF.FACTS.
Esquimaux, and the savage dweller in the islands of the
sea, not less than the most intellectual and polished people
of the world, accept the religion of the cross, exemplify its
power to elevate and bless, and living and dying enjoy its
Dlessel consolations. Its facts in regard to God and providence, to sin, the Saviour, the future life and the retributions of eternity, and others allied to these, when taken
as they stand in the Holy Scriptures, aside from human
reasonings, in their true simplicity and naked force, gain
easy access to the mind when once it is drawn to give
them a serious attention. No great enlargement of the
intellect, no high degree of learning, nor any peculiarity of
culture is required for their reception. As the whole race
notwithstanding all diversities, have certain great wants
in common, so it is found that to meet and satisfy these
wants, the facts of the Christian revelation, to which He
who spake what he did know has testified, have a common
applicability. They avail for all alike. Christianity is, in
this view, admirably fitted to become the religion of the
world.
Since, then, Christianity, as a divine religion, is fundamentally a revelation of the great moral and spiritual
facts to which we have referred-facts by which especially
it is fitted to reach the whole human race-a third
inquiry will naturally suggest itself.  How ought such a
religious system to be treated? In what state of mind
should we approach it? How give it its best practical
effect?
On this point we may first observe that its clearly
stated facts are always and distinctly to be recognised as 
CHRISTIA.NITY A RELIGION OF FACTS.             155
such. It is for want of attention to this obvious dictate
of sound reason, that many who seem to be sincere inquirers are tossed perpetually on the restless sea of
doubt. They confound known facts with speculative
conjectures and opinions. Instead of seizing and holding
what is certain they forget that any thing is certain.
They suffer themselves to be drawn away from what is
tangible and real into the shadowy realm of the unknown,
and so are led to waste their time and strength, their
thought and feeling, in raising and discussing questions
which end in nothing after all. The plain facts which
Christianity embodies and affirms are not now to be debated.   They  rest  already on  the  highest  possible
evidence, and no longer require to be established. We
may profitably, we must, to some extent, inquire into
the relation and the bearings of these facts; but unless we
are willing to involve ourselves in hopeless difficulties, we
are to accept them as the well determined realities which
they actually are.
Suppose a man, in a spirit of captious scepticism, refuses to admit the obvious facts of nature, which are
every day before his eyes; and as some misnamed philosophers have done, sets himself to doubt the testimony of
his senses, and, as it were, to tear up the very foundations
of all knowledge. At what results would he be likely to
arrive. You would expect to see him  every moment
more and more entangled and bewildered, and would
hardly count him worthy to be reckoned in the number of
sane men. To spend one's time in making it a question
whether the sun shines, or the grass grows, or bodies 
156     CHRISTIANITY A RELIGRO0  OF FACTS.
attract each other, or in trying to raise doubts about any
other well-known facts in nature, you would certainly regard as a proof of anything but a sound condition of the
intellect
Just so it is in regard to the main facts of Christianity
-facts which the Son of God appeared on earth to settle
finally. Not to-assume them as settled, in all our thoughts
and reasonings, is to fall into the folly of doubting certainties, ascertained and known to be such. Whether our
race be in a fallen state, whether the justice of God condemns us, whether Christ has made atonement for our
sins, whether eternal life or death is suspended on our repentance and faith in him, whether Christ has risen, and
whether we shall rise to be acquitted or condemned at the
bar of a final judgment-are things no more to be debated
as if questionable now, than whether a stone will fall to
the earth if it be thrown into the air. That they are
questioned and debated still by many, is no proof that
they are not established facts; it proves simply that those
who will not accept them as such are so far blinded and
misled through prejudice, or the want of information, that
they have no right discernment in the matter. Quite recently a man announced, over his own name, in the public
papers, that the received system of astronomy was altogether false, and that he was prepared to show this to the
satisfaction of all who would give him their attention.
What then? The public, instead of being led to doubt
whether the sun were the centre of the solar system, were
rather led to conclude at once that the man had lost his
wits. So they who at this day seek to bring into doubt 
CHRISTIANITY A RELIGION OP' PFAC2'S.   157
the facts which Christianity unambiguously sets forth, do
most of all bring into doubt their own intellectual sobriety
and force.  Since the Christian revelation was,  at the
outset, proved to be divine, and has stood impregnable
against the assaults of persecuting power, of wit and
ridicule, of learning, criticism, and philosophy, its clearly
stated facts are justly to be taken as verities for ever
settled beyond rational debate; and all systems, all
theories, all speculations, and all pretended facts, which
are really incompatible with these, may be at once rejected. Nor is there anything of dogmatism or bigotry
in this. It is simply refusing to surrender what we know
to the unreasonable demands of ignorance and perverseness
It may be added further, secondly, that as a religion of
facts, Christianity must be regarded as immutable in its
essence, and must be accepted precisely as it is. It has
been by no means an uncommon thing to see men, not
avowing unbelief, commit the folly of undertaking to correct and modify the Christian revelation; endeavouring to
prevent its saying something which it explicitly affirms, or
to constrain it to say something which, in truth, it nowhere
teaches. Such persons not rarely delude themselves and
others. They work out monstrous compounds of truth
and error mingled in various proportions-a few grains
perhaps, of the divine to many grains of the purely human,
-and fancy themselves improvers of Christianity, and
wiser than its Author.
But what is the result 7  With all their ingenuity and
pains, they cannot alter the facts which Christianity 
158    CHRISTIANITY A RELIGION OF FACTS.
makes known. What earnest and persevering efforts have
been made through centuries, by those who have flattered
themselves that they were profound thinkers and philosophers, to make the Christian system different in something from what it really is! How vast the amount of
time and labour expended in this manner, and all how
utterly in vain! The same great facts remain to which
the divine teacher testified when he spake what hle positively knew and bear witness to what hlie had actually
seen; and so they will remain for ever! They are like
old, grey rocky mountains, which stand unharmed through
the beating storms of ages. The cunning inventions of
human wisdom, opinions and philosophies in perpetual
succession, encounter them, as clouds encounter the hoary
cliffs, only to be themselves dissolved and scattered to the
winds, and to leave them just what they were before.
You may try, O men of speculation, to change, in the
natural world, the fact of magnetic attraction or of the
gravitating force; but the body will still fall and the
needle will still be steady to the pole. Even so when you
shall have done your utmost to change the essential facts
of the Christian revelation, you will leave them as you
find them-the unalterable realities of the moral universe
of God. It is a noble characteristic of our divine religion
that as to its substance and ground, it is immutable and
permanent.  It must be accepted as it is, or rejected altogether. The attempt to modify it is forbidden by sound
reason and sound piety alike.
Still further, thirdly, it is plain that in order to give
Christianity its proper influence and power upon the 
CHRISTIANITY A RELIGION OF FACTS.
world, its distinctive facts must be continually insisted
on. There are two opposite errors which have at times
prevailed in relation to this matter. It has sometimes
been the case that the Christian ministry and Church
have fallen into a scholastic and speculative habit. They
have at least seemed to regard the facts of revealed
religion, not so much in their practical applications in
their bearing on the character and welfare, the hopes and
destinies of men, as in the light of interesting objects of
thought and study, to be arranged, and classified, and constructed into systems, as specimens of birds or minerals
are studied, prepared and labelled, and set in the cases of
a cabinet. Treated in such a manner, the solemn, stirring,
and vital facts, or doctrines as they are quite as often
called, of the Christian faith, become indeed mere dogmas,
in the offensive meaning of the term-dry, abstract, and
comparatively inoperative dogmas. They lose their power
to stimulate and rouse the soul, and do but little more
than entertain the understanding. From such an exhibition of Christianity but little life or motion will be
likely to result.
But one extreme is apt to beget another. Reacting
from this excessively and drily dogmatic form of Christian teaching, there are some who would have little or
nothing definitely said about the essential facts of revelation. They wish to have the teachers of religion leave
off insisting on the fact of human guilt, the fact of a
redemption by the cross, the fact of a needed spiritual
renovation, and so on to the end; and they would have
them give themselves almost entirely to the inculcation of
159
,_
I,4t,qS 
160    CHRISTIANITY A RELIGION OF FACTS.
what is purely ethical-to the work of exhorting men to
the outward duties which Christianity imposes. Instead
of labouring to have the system intelligently comprehended
and felt in its full energy within the soul, there to become
a source and fountain of right action of ail sorts, they
think it better to insist almost exclusively on action, and
to leave the gaining of right knowledge and the kindling
of right feeling in the soul-which things alone give moral
power-to be accomplished as they may.
It is hard, perhaps, to say which of these errors is the
worse.  The  one  converts what  should  be  quick and
powerful into something nearly or quite inert and useless.
The other changes what should be spiritual, earnest, and
profound, into something which is chiefly formal and outward, a heartless and superficial semblance of zeal for
what is good, and not the thing itself. Give over insisting on the great facts which the New Testament asserts,
and confine yourself to the teaching of mere ethics, and in
a single generation Christianity ceases to be known in its
peculiar features. Let such a course be universal, and it
must soon become extinct. It is the constant reiteration
of the momentous facts of the holy gospel, the clear and
forcible exhibition of them in their certainty and their
vast solemnity and interest, that causes them to become
inwrought into the minds of those who hear them, and
especially of the young, who in fresh crowds are all the
while advancing into life. It is in this way that Christian
knowledge as related to character and life is perpetuated
and made effectual to its end.
In order, therefore, to the progress of Christianity and 
CHfIISTIANITY A RELIGIOV OF FACTS.
to the right application of it for the saving of men's souls
and the curing of the evils that afflict a sinful world, its
facts must be forcibly presented and pressed on the attention of all who can be reached. There must be special
care to exhibit them in their own simplicity, in their
direct relation to practicl duty of all kinds, in a word, in
their bearing on the actual condition and necessities of
men. When so set forth and urged, the facts of our religion, or doctrines as they are with equal fitness called,
exert a mighty power upon hearts prepared by the divine
spirit to receive them. They furnish to each individual
soul the reasons, grounds, and motives of right action-the
impulses which prompt it to strive with all earnestness to
meet the demands of duty, and to do good to the extent
of its ability.
It only remains to be added, that since Christianity is
a religion of facts, of positive realities, the obligation of
every individual heartily and practically to receive it, must
be allowed to be imperative and not to be escaped. No
one in his senses can hesitate to acknowledge that he is
bound to act in accordance with the great facts of the
natural world, in the ordering of his natural life; and
that he must expect to suffer, and will deserve to suffer,
the greatest calamities if foolishly he should refuse to do
so. How then can it be doubted, that I, that you, and
others, are bound to act in accordance with the great facts
of the spiritual world in the ordering of our spiritual life;
and that to refuse to do it is to involve ourselves in
miseries beyond endurance. It often seems as if those
who hear the gospel, and in a general sense admit its
161 
e2    CHfRISTIA_ITYA.ELIGIO2 OF FACTS
claims, were resting after all in the false idea that Chris.
tianity is very much a religion of opinions, and that it
cannot be very material whether they personally adopt
these opinions or neglect them. They feel, apparently,
that they are at liberty to think and act very much as it
may suit them in regard to the disclosures of divine revelation, provided they do not directly array themselves
against them.
No, no; this is a great and dangerous delusion.
God, the soul, guilt, redemption, the resurrection from
death, and eternal joy or woe-these are, as we have seen,
facts positively determined by Christianity-by the gospel of Jesus Christ as found in the New Testament.
Suppose you refuse them your assent, or even your particular attention; suppose in your heedlessness you quite
forget them;-it is all the same.   You will find them
realities at last. Suppose you admit, and really believe
them intellectually, and only disregard them practically,
perhaps with a serious purpose to regard them soon or
late. It will still remain that they are facts-facts touching your duty and your happiness at every point. You
may live and die neglecting them, and go at last, as ruined
souls, to a lost eternity; but they will be facts for ever!
It will for ever be true that they had such relation to all
the interests of your being, that you were bound, by the
highest conceivable obligations, to heed them in the
moulding of your characters and the shaping of your
ends.
Remember this, I pray you-that in this divine religion,
which, in the name of God, is pressed on your attention, 
CHRISTIANITY A RELIGION OF FACTS.
you have to do with facts from which there is no escape.
Admit them, act as they demand, build on them, as on an
adamantine basis, the structure of your character and
hopes, and it shall be to the exaltation, peace, and glory
of the immortal future that awaits you.  Pursue an opposite course, and you will surely verify at last, in your own
melancholy experience, the fearful words of Christ:
"Whosoever falleth on this stone shall be broken; but on
whomsoever it shall fall it shall grind him to powder I"
Ii
1'63 
164    MYSTERY NO OBSTA CLE TO FAITH.
gunfirea Uo (hsfarlt to jaif.
1 COR. ii. 7: But we speak the wzsdom of God it a mystery.
ACH  human  being  at his birth has everything to
learn. We bring into being with us the faculties
which fit us to become intelligent,-a mental constitution
from which perceptions, intellectual processes and ideas,
in proper time and by the natural course of things, result.
As we are brought in contact with external objects, the
mind is awakened into consciousness; its elementary laws
of thought reveal themselves; and thenceforward it goes
on, more or less rapidly, in the acquisition of positive
knowledge.
The child, when the sense of his own ignorance and a
desire to learn have been awakened in his heart, is apt to
imagine that those who are older than himself, and whom
he has found able to answer his first inquiries, know
almost everything. He believes that when he too shall
become a man, he shall, in like manner, clearly comprehend those things at which now he can only wonder. As
he advances to maturer years, therefore, and new subjects
of interest continually present themselves, he goes on
asking others to explain; and he is surprised and disappointed when he finds, in many instances, that no sufficient
X. 
MYSTERY NO OBSTACLE TO FA ITII.
explanation, and no solution of his difficulties, can be
given. Hie finds it hard to relinquish the idea of having
everything mnade entirely plain to his understanding; and
under the influence of this reluctance, he is inclined to
doubt or disbelieve whatever is inexplicable-whatever, in
other words, offers itself as a mystery to his mind.
In this vulnerable point, scepticism in reference to subjects of a religious nature is wont to assail the mind. It
exaggerates the mysteriousness of the facts and doctrines
of religion-of revealed religion more  especially-and
affects to regard it as something strange that these should
be attended with difficulties, and should some of them
seem so much beyond the reach of the natural understanding. It would have it believed that obscuritymystery-is something peculiar to religion, and not to be
found ill other departments of our knowledge, and then
insists that what is so incomprehensible cannot rationally
be believed. By this specious, but unsound and fallacious
style of argument, the faith of many has, without doubt,
been overthrown.
We say that the argument against revealed religion
drawn from the mysteries involved in some of its truths,
is not valid. It is neither true, as it assumes, that mystery
pertains only, or at least pre-eminently, to matters of religion; nor that nothing that includes impenetrable mysteries
can be entitled to belief. We purpose, on the contrary,
now to show that mystery pertains to all other things
which we believe as truly as to the doctrines of divine
revelation; and that if we cannot receive anything mysterious as truth, then we cannot receive as truth anything
165 
166       MYSTERY N2O OBSTACLE TO FAITE.
at alL   One course of argument  and illustration will
establish both these points.
That there are unfathomable mysteries involved in revealed religion is readily conceded. The apostle boldly
avows it in the text: "We speak," says he, "the wisdom of
God in a mystery."  The being of God, the foundation of
all religion, is itself a mystery. We can form no conception
of his essence. The mind sinks exhausted in the effort to
take in the eternity of his duration, or the infinity of his
power. His self-existence is an abyss that swallows up
our thoughts. When in our efforts to conceive him as he
is, we have combined our highest notions of wisdom, of
power, of justice, of goodness, and of the morally beautiful
and sublime, we have fallen as far below the great reality,
as does the infant when pleased with the splendour of the
sun, of a just comprehension of the mechanism of the
universe. The providence of God, which revelation represents as universal, is a mystery. That he should sustain
the universe and fill it with his presence, at every moment
bringing myriads of creatures into being, displaying everywhere the most admirable workmanship, controlling all
things by his will, never reposing for an instant in the
midst of his infinite affairs, and yet fainting not, neither
becoming weary-all this it is utterly impossible for us
with finite powers to comprehend. The system of redemption, through which, according to the gospel, God
offers eternal life to sinful men, dating its origin in the
deep counsels of eternity, unfolding the divine mercy in
its immreasureable riches, involving the wonderful fact of
the incarnation of the Word and the mission and inscrut 
MYSTERY NO OBSTACLE TO FAITH.
able ministry of the Spirit, is equally a mystery acknow.
ledged. So is the truth of the trinity in the unity of God.
So is spiritual existence, and the resurrection of the body
to immortal life. All these, and many other truths which
are essential parts in the scheme of revealed religion, are
confessedly mysterious. But when the plea is urged that
they are in this respect peculiar, and that it is unreasonable
and extraordinary that we should be required to believe
things so mysterious in themselves, or their relations, we
at once join issue on the point and deny that there is
anything'peculiar in the case, or anything contrary to
reason in the requirement; and we assert, on the contrary,
as already stated, that there is in fact mystery in everything, and that this proves, in a multitude of cases, no
obstacle at all to the most firm belief.
Let us look at a few facts. Of nothing can we feel a
greater certainty than of our own being and personal
identity. No imaginable evidence can add to the strength
of my conviction that I exist, and that I am the same
individual being that I was twenty years ago. But what
am  I.  I can no more understand the essence of my con
scious self, than I can that of God the Infinite Spirit.
The intellectual activities
"These thoughlits that wander through Eternity "
that flash with a speed that outstrips the lightning across
the universe, that travel from world to world, and ascend
from the insect to the Deity without effort or fatigue,what know I of their nature? Or where is he that can
resolve my doubts and tell me what they are I These
167 
168    MYSTERY NO OBSTACLE TO FAITH.
sensibilities that make me capable of so many and such
various affections by contact with things without me,
capable of being moved to admiration by the view of
beauty, to awe at the sight of the sublime, to love in the
contemplation of the pure and good; what can I tell, or
what can I learn of their hidden constitution. The
philosopher here is no wiser than the child. That wonderful faculty, the will, by what means can I draw aside
the veil that conceals its operations. It acts unseen
within me as the helmsman of my destiny, turning me
hither and thither, and commanding every power by its
simple act of choice. The material body, in all its members
and nearly all its functions, obeys its secret energy. It is
the attribute, finally, which makes me moral and responsible.
Yet I know as much of the structure of the furthest world
in space as I know of its essential nature.  My own being
is a mystery.
Then, further, as to my personal identity-what is it
precisely that constitutes me the same individual that I
was at any moment past?  My body is not composed of
the same matter; perhaps not one of the same particles
are in it now which at some former period it contained.
Yet it is the same body and not another.  My mind, too,
has been perpetually passing through changes of thought,
feeling, and affection. Its opinions, tastes, desires, are
widely different from what they were in other years. Yet
after all, it is the same and not another mind. Its thread
of conscious identity has not been broken and never will
oe broken. Hiow inscrutable a mystery is this!
Turn then, if you please, to nature in any of her various 
MYSTERY NO OBSTACLE TO FAITH.
departments. Look, for instance, at the facts presented in
the animal kingdom Explain, if you can, the nature of
that something to which you have given the name of instinct. Observe that spider, which has spread her gossamer across your window. How did she learn to construct
that octagon, as perfect as if drawn by the nicest geometrician? Or watch the robin that has fixed her nest on
the tree that shades your door. That nest is the first she
ever built; yet see how perfect-the most practised of her
kind has never formed a better. Where did she gain her
skill in architecture. Note too with what self-denying
perseverance she sits upon her eggs; it is her first time of
incubation. How came she to know that such an act was
necessary, and that her long patience will be at length rewarded?
Consider also animal life itself, and the functions of the
vital economy. What is it that prevents the decomposition of the flesh of animals so long as the vital principle
is there, while decay commences the moment it is gone?
Lay open the mode of the assimilating process, and tell us
how it is that the gross substances taken in the form of
food are converted into the beautiful carnation of the
human cheek, and the gorgeous and variegated dyes of
birds and insects. Show what it is that keeps the heart
for ever throbbing, and the lungs perpetually heaving, without any effort of the will. Solve the long doubts of the
philosophers, and tell us what is the condition of the mind
in sleep, and of what stuff dreams are made. You encounter
mystery at every step.
Or look again at the vegetable world. There is the rose
169
t 
170     MYSTERY NO OBSTACLE TO FAITi'.
blushing crimson by your window. What elements have
been concerned in its production. Light, heat, moisture,
and the commnon earth. But by what means have the soft
and tender petal, the exquisitely grateful odour, and the
hues unrivalled in their loveliness, been elaborated from
such materials? How has the same sap been made to
produce the hard stalk, the sharp thorn, the green leaf,
and the admirable flower? There, too, is the lily by its side.
It springs from the same soil, is warmed by the same sun,
watered by the same showers, yet instead of having the
same colour it is white as the virgin snow. Again, there
is the grass and the violet that both spring from one common mould, and yet, one is a soft and lively green, and the
other an imperial purple. Once more, you have a seed.
It is only a mite in size, but just visible to the unassisted
eye, and might easily be mistaken for a particle of dust.
Yet, in it lies concealed the germ of a noble plant; and let
it be cast into the earth, and it will send forth life and
beauty from its own decay, and thus will perpetuate its
kind. How unsearchable are all these mysteries!
If now from organized we pass to inorganic matter, the
same combination of the known with the unknown meets
us. You have here the laws of chemical affinity and repulsion. You find that certain substances when reduced to
a fluid state and then placed in given conditions, return
to solids by the process of crystallization; and that in doing
this one always takes the cubic form, another always that
of an octahedron, another always that of a parallelopiped,
and so on. But of these, and a multitude of other plain
and unquestionable facts, you cannot by the nicest obser 
MYSTERY NO OBSTACLE TO FAITH.
vation detect the cause, or the mode of its operation.
Nature veils it in deep mystery.
Lastly, not to prolong our illustration, think of those
subtle yet efficient agents that produce the more general
and grand phenomena of nature. Put an end to the conjectures of mankind, by telling us what light, and heat, and
electricity, and magnetism are. That mighty universal
force, to which, by way of concealing our ignorance, we
give the name of gravity; which brings the pebble to the
earth, and chain  revolving worlds about their centres;
search out the secret and instruct us in relation to its
nature.   You  cannot answer our inquiries.   These are
nature's hidden things. She wraps them in mystery into
which you pry in vain.
You see, then, that mystery is written all over the universe of God. You cannot turn where it is not. You
find it in yourself, you perceive it in every creature that
hath breath. You see it in every blade of grass, and every
flower that beautifies the earth; in every gem that comes
from the productive mine; in the radiance of the sun, the
gleam of the lightning, in the needle steady to the pole, in
the alternations of day and night, the changing of the seasons, and the mechanism of the heavens. There is nothing
so familiar, nothing even so trifling around you, that it
may not suggest a variety of questions which it is beyond
your power to answer.
It is, therefore, manifestly true that we do in reality
believe a multitude of facts on the testimony of our
senses, and on other evidence, in which the deepest mysteries are obviously involved; thus showing, undeniably
171
i:
.,-All 
1712      MYSTERY."O OBSTACLE TO FAITH.
that mysteries present no obstacle to the belief of facts or
truths supported by a reasonable amount of proof; or,
which is saying the same thing, that the certainty of what
we know, is not in the least diminished by the uncertainty
which may exist in regard to the relations of our know ledge.
Having thus shown the groundlessness of the allegation
of the sceptic that things involving mystery are not to be
believed, we will now go further still. We will take the
full benefit of the argument, by turning the fact that many
of the truths of revealed religion are confessedly mysterious,
to the confirmation of its divinity. We say, then, that if
a system of religion were presented, which professed to be
from God, and yet did claim to have no mysteries, this
claim itself should prove the system to be false. For such
a system would be exceptional and anomalous in our experience; and we should justly reason that if earthly
things are found to be beyond our comprehension, much
more ought heavenly things to be expected to be so; that
if there are mysteries in ourselves and in all the animal
creation, in every blade of grass and every flower, in the
pebbles beneath our feet, in the clouds above our heads,
and in the laws that govern mnatter; much more ought we
to look for them in God, in his vast plan of moral government, in his eternal providence, in the spiritual relations
of the human soul, in the means of its recovery from sin,
and the determination of its character and destinies for
the immortality that lies on the other side of death.
When, therefore, the truly enlarged and discerning mind
finds that revealed religion, instead of making loud pre 
MYSTERY NO OBSTACLE TO FAITH.
tensions to simplicity, and claiming to make the infinite
perfectly intelligible to the finite, exhibits the grand facts
and doctrines of which it treats in the sublimity of their
real light and shade, explaining what we have need to
know and are now capable of knowing, and leaving other
things enwrapped in darkness; it sees, in this, at once, the
evidence of honesty and truth, and a conformity to the
familiar system of material nature. To such a mind, the
mysteries of religion, so far from being obstacles, are positive aids to faith. To the Omniscient only are there no
dark and hidden things. A mystery, let it be borne in
mind, is not an absurdity-a something at which reason
itself revolts-it is simply something not yet understood.
Since our capacities are limited, and our power of comprehending the spiritual is particularly feeble, it is, in the
nature of the case, impossible, that even by any conceivable revelations, God should bring down to the level of
our minds all those truths that lie embosomed in the invisible, the infinite, and the eternal. The whole scheme of
revealed religion to him is wisdom, though to us it is
delivered, of necessity, in a mystery.
We would not, indeed, assert that God has actually gone
to the utmost limit of the possible, in giving a revelation.
There is no reason to suppose that he has done this in
relation to all subjects, while we may well believe that he
has with respect to some. There may be many other reasons, it is plain, besides that of our want of capacity to
comprehend him, to render it fit that he should withhold
from us many kinds and degrees of knowledge which
might without difficulty be imparted. Of such reasons
173 
174     MYSTERY 1O0 OBSTACLE TO FAITH.
there are some that readily suggest themselves. It might,
for example, instead of relieving, only bewilder and perplex us, to have our minds excited to yet higher inquiry
by further disclosures as to things that have no immediate relation to our duty or our happiness for the present.
Life is so short, so full of engrossing occupation, we are
under the necessity of devoting so much of it to what is
directly practical, that very little time is allowed us for
merely speculative thought. To open too many vistas to
our minds, too many and too distant glimpses out into the
great universe of things, might only divert our attention
from matters of pressing moment, or make these seem to
us to be trivial and irksome. Then, further, it is no less
obvious that this living in the midst of mysteries may
prove a most salutary moral discipline. By contact with
the as yet unopened secrets of the universe, our pride
receives a salutary check. We find that with all our aspirations and our conscious power of intellect and will, we
cannot pass beyond a certain boundary which God has
fixed. We are taught to recognise the unimaginable
grandeur and glory of that great Being to whose all-embracing mind and all-discerning vision nothing is in any
respect obscure. All this is eminently favourable to a
right estimate of ourselves and to a just view of our position. The lesson of our ignorance and of the imperfection
of our highest faculties as instruments of knowledge,
enforced as it is perpetually by the facts of our experience,
is well adapted to repress conceit and to beget a reverential
spirit. Both as regards the ends of practical life and the
development in our souls of sentiments of humility, of 
MYSTERY NO OBSTACLE TO FAITH.
veneration, and of worship, there are great advantages to
be derived from the present withholding of many parts of
divine knowledge which might possibly be revealed.
Instead of being impeached, therefore, because of mysteries which mnight have been made clear, the wisdom and
goodness of God find in these very mysteries an impressive illustration. Instead of being an objection to a revelation that claims to be from him, that many of its lines
of truth run off into the infinite unknown, we ought to
recognise in this fact one of the most distinctive marks of
its divine original. The absence of mystery would demonstrate it to be only a shallow cheat.
Instead, then, of suffering ourselves to be perplexed
and  stumbled  because we  encounter mysteries in the
Christian revelation, it is much wiser, as well as more
becoming, certainly, that we cultivate a humble, docile
spirit. How exceedingly limited, at best, is our horizon!
What an infant, in a sober view, does the wisest man on
earth appear, on the scale of universal being! We walk
as if by moonlight. We are able to see the form and
outline of the things immediately about us, with tolerable
distinctness; but of the more remote, we can perceive
only the dim shadows. It little befits our state and
powers to be self-confident and wise in our own eyes.
It is much more suitable to both, that we should take the
attitude of children; and that, with a profound willingness to be taught, we should ask of God, the Fountain of
eternal wisdom, that he will illuminate our souls and
guide us into truth.
We ought likewise to consider, for the enkindling of a
'175
1',.
,, -)S 
176    MYSTERY NO OBSTACLE TO FAITH.
heartfelt gratitude, that the mysteries of our being had
been far deeper and darker than they are, but for the
partial light which God has afforded in his word. We
assume, at this stage of our progress, that the Christian
revelation is divine. By the help of this, where the wisest
heathen, in all ages, have groped their way, we are able
to see distinctly; and though we are able to know so
little in comparison with the grand total of truth as open
to the infinite mind, yet let us devotedly praise God that
he has enabled us to know so much.   It is enough to
break the gloom of these our mortal days of darkness. It
is enough to enable us to discern and keep the path of
duty and of life.  What though it does not enable us to
look, with perfect vision, into the unfathomable depths of
glory in the being and the counsels of the Deity, or to
solve to our thought the perplexing enigmas of the
universe. It ought not only to satisfy us, but to fill our
souls with thankfulness, that the light we have is sufficient to lead us to the knowledge of all that is now essential to our welfare.
For the rest, it may content us that we can confidently
anticipate the future increase of our knowledge. You are
perhaps sometimes impatient now of the limits set to
your inquiries.   Your restless spirits, as it were, beat
against the bars that shut them in, and long to penetrate
beyond them and put an end to doubt. Receive, then,
with a meek, and penitent, and trusting heart the blessed
gospel of the Son of God, and mould by it your temper
and your life, and you shall ere long rise to a higher
region of existejice. There the mysteries that now per 
MYSTERY NO OBSTACLE TO FAITH
plex you will probably most of them be solved. The
shadows of earth will no longer lie upon the fields of
truth. I do not say that new mysteries will not be found.
On the contrary, since you are finite and God is infinite,
you must for ever find them. But in the more perfect
vision of that brighter world, you will be ever learning;
and as old mysteries, one by one, are understood and new
ones are presented, your circle of knowledge will be evermore enlarging, and you will find an inexhaustible delight
in studying into the secrets of the universe. While,
therefore, you are humbled at your ignorance, and grateful for the degree of light you have, submit patiently to
mysteries, and await in faith and hope the disclosures of
the coming world.
"'Mortal, who with a trembling, longing heart,
Watchest in silence the few rays that steal
In their kind dimness to thy feeble sight;
Watch on in silence-till within thy soul,
Springs the hid fountain of immortal life
Then shall the mighty veil asunder rend
And o'er the spirit living, strong and pure,
Sihall the full glories of the Godhead flowl I
1,7 
TEE HIGHEST EVIDENCH
XI.
(7,t Vig4iesf (biBtu  may  not Irortn
melted
JOHN xii. 37: But though He had done so many miracles before them,
yet they believed not on hitn.
HAT  the public ministry of our blessed Lord was
altogether extraordinary in its character, even the
most determined and malignant of his enemies never pretended to deny.   In tone  and spirit, in matter and
manner, in word and work, it was unlike anything the
world had ever known. It was because it was so unique,
so original, so striking, that it arrested attention as it
did; that it commended itself so powerfully to the candid
and sincere, who waited for the consolation of Israel; and
excited such implacable hostility in the minds of the
proud, the self-righteous, and the sensual.
But while the ministry of Christ had a character so
marked that it could not fail to produce a marked impression, its chief value, after all, was to depend on its being
unhesitatingly accepted as divine. The grand question
to be settled by all who might take an interest in the
matter, was,-Is it a ministry which God has instituted,
and has distinctly endorsed and ratified, as invested with
authority from Him? That such was the fact, it was
178 
MAY NOT PL,ODUCE BELIEF.
necessary to have established in the most conclusive
manner.
Of course, there was need that the claims of Jesus to
have come down from heaven as the Lord's Christ, as
God's special ambassador to men, and to have received
from the Father the authority which, in his ministry, he
assumed and exercised, should be sustained by proofs as
extraordinary as the claims themselves. Such proofs, it
is alleged, were amply furnished, especially in the astonishing miracles which he wrought in the most public
manner, in a great variety of circumstances, and throughout the whole period of his public life.  Yet what was
the result? The text announces it: "But though he had
done so many miracles before them, yet they believed not
on him." It strikes us as a strange result. The phenomenon is worthy to be studied. By a careful examination
of the case we shall be led to some interesting and highly
practical conclusions.
How is it to be accounted for, that with all the miracles
which he performed before them, so many nevertheless
refused to believe in Christ? This question will sufficiently indicate the drift of the remarks which we propose.
We say then, first, that their persistent unbelief did not
originate in any doubt as to the reality of the miracles
themselves. Of this we are absolutely sure; because the
reality of these mighty works was fully admitted by the
fiercest of Christ's opposers. That he actually did the
things which he seemed to do, without any illusion or
collusion in the matter, was habitually acknowledged;
12
179 
THE HIGHEST EVIDENCE
was never, in fact. so far as there is evidence, denied in
one solitary instance. They were wrought on all sorts of
occasions, among all sorts of people, in the most open
manner possible, and with every attending circumstance
that could produce conviction; and it was doubtless
because they were undeniable, and for no other reason,
that they were undenied.   It was without the  least
hesitation that Christ himself appealed to them as the
decisive credentials of his divine commission, which he
could not have done, had not their reality been universally conceded.
When, for example, John sent to him two of his disciples, demanding, "Art thou he that should come, or do
we look for another q" Jesus answered and said unto
them, "Go and show John again those things which ye
do hear and see. The blind receive their sight, and the
lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, and the
dead are raised up." The whole force of this reply lies in
the fact that they themselves had witnessed all these
things, or most of them at least, which Luke tells us was
the case, and that no doubt was thrown upon them from
any quarter.
The truth obviously is that very many of the miracles
which Jesus did were established by such a kind of proof,
and such an amount of proof, that there was not the
smallest chance for cavil. When in the crowded street
he stopped the funeral procession, and restored the
widow's son to life, who of that astonished throng would
have ventured to deny the deed? When hlie multiplied
the bread, and fed the five thousand with five loaves, and
180 
MAY 1NOT PRODUCE BELIEF.                 181
on another occasion the four thousand with the seven
loaves, who of all the multitudes that had themselves
both witnessed the wonder and tasted of the food, could
have ever questioned that a stupendous miracle was
wrought? So as to the opening of the eyes of the man
born blind, well known, not only to his parents, but to
great numbers who had been acquainted with him from his
birth, or had often seen him as he sat begging by the
wayside; it was impossible to gainsay the fact when he
was seen with his sight restored. So in other cases;
particularly in that of Lazarus. That Christ had raised
him from the dead, there was no possibility of denying;
it was known and acknowledged at Jerusalem, by friends
and foes alike.
When, therefore, the Scribes and Pharisees, and those
who acted with them, rejected Jesus of Nazareth with all
his wondrous works before them, we know that it was not
because there was any suspicion as to the miracles themselves. It was impossible for them to do otherwise than
own that these miracles were real; and painful as the
confession was, they were compelled to make it.
Nor, in the second place, can the unbelief to which the
text refers, have originated in any want of adaptation in
miracles to produce a conviction of Christ's divine commission.
Although our Lord himself distinctly appealed to his
miracles as affording unanswerable proof that he came
from God, and although the apostles did the same, and
the ablest Christian writers of all ages have agreed in so
regarding them, it has become quite the fashion with a 
TEE HIGHEST E VIDENCB
certain class of writers in our day to deny that miracles,
admitting them as really performed, can establish any
truth at all. In support of their position these modern
sages insist that no miracle, however great, can supply the
several steps in the logical process by which an abstract
truth is made clear to the understanding; can give, in
other words, a complete demonstration of a theorem. But
this assertion is, in reality, nothing to the purpose. The
question is not a question of abstract truth at all; but of
truth in the concrete-a simple question of fact. A person claims to possess divine power. Does he really possess
it.-That is the question.  If he performs a miracle he
exercises divine power. Does not that prove that he possesses it l If a work of God is manifestly wrought, what
other demonstration can be asked that the power of God
is there 2
Besides-although it be admitted that a miracle cannot
convey the logical process by which the reason is put in
possession of a truth, it does not follow that it may not
afford a solid basis on which the reason may construct
such a process for itself; and so arrive at even abstract
truth, to which without the miracle it could not have
attained. We maintain that the miracles of Christ did
both demonstrate that the power of God was in him, and
furnish the ground for many important deductions in relation to his person. Let us look at the case particularly
and see.
We have seen that the miracles of Christ were admitted
on all hands to be real.  That they were not wrought by
merely human power was acknowledged also; for this is
182 
MAY i~OT PRODUCE BELIEF.                183
involved in the very notion of a miracle. But two suppositions then were possible. Either they were wrought
as Christ himself affirmed, by the power of God residing
in him, or else by the power of the devil, as some of his
enemies alleged. The one or the other of these things, it was
clear, must be the truth. But the miracles of Christ were
all of them, or nearly all, manifestly benevolent in their
character, and many of them were in direct and obvious
subversion of the dominion and influence of Satan; and
the question which Christ asked of those who pretended
to ascribe his works to Satanic agency,-" If Satan cast out
Satan, how then shall his kingdom stand,"-exposed effectually the absurdity of the idea, that there was any such
agency in the case. What then was the inevitable conclusion, to every one who reasoned soundly? Jesus of
Nazareth comes as the messenger of God. In proof of
his commission he performs these mighty works. They are
undeniably beyond all human power. They are palpably
opposed to the interests and the spirit of the devil. They
do, therefore, evince the truth of what he claims. They do
exhibit the power of God as residing in him.
Such, it is clear, was the proper force and bearing of
the miracles which were wrought by Jesus Christ. Such
was the impression that they were well adapted to produce.
It is but a poor sophistry of our modern days that denies
their fitness to produce conviction. It was not, therefore,
because they were not valid evidence of his Messiahship,
that those in whose presence they were wrought did not
believe in Jesus. They were the proper credentials of the
divinity of his mission. 
THE HIGHEST EVIDENCE
We come then, in the third place, to observe that the
true explanation of the unbelief of those to whom the text
relates, must be sought in the state of their own minds as
regards their preparation for a right receiving of the evidence, and not in any want of force or adaptation in the
evidence itself
The fact that the effect of evidence depends materially
on the internal condition of those to whom it is presented,
we may here assume as granted. The clearest light, if the
eyes of the understanding be darkened by the influence of
perverting causes, may fall almost in vain. Even where
the understanding is convinced, the desires and biases of a
heart that is corrupt, and the stubbornness of a will that
is determined not to yield, may prevent the plainest certainties from being received with a cordial faith. Such
are the well-known laws of mental action.
How was it then with those who with all the miracles
of Christ before them, refused to believe on him? It is
plain, from what we know of the nation generally, and
from what the history records of these persons in particular, that they were in a state exceedingly unfavourable
to a right appreciation of the personal character of our
Lord and to a hearty reception of his spiritual and holy
teachings. They were gross and carnal in their views and
spirit. Their morality was an outward show, which was
worn over the most thorough selfishness. Their religion
was rotten at the core-a mere semblance of piety, inspired
only by arrogance and pride. They were fully prepossessed with the idea that the Messiah promised to their
fathers was to be an entirely different sort of person from
184 
MAY NOT PROD UCE BELIEF.
what they saw in the Son of Joseph and Mary; and that
his advent and career were to be in quite another style
than those of Jesus. Looking for one who should restore
the Jewish nation, and bring back its ancient glory, they
were ill prepared to see in the humble Nazarene the illus
trious person whose coming and character had been fore- 
told in the lofty strains of prophets, and longed for by
holy patriarchs and kings. Worse than all, when they
came to listen to the words of Christ, those words which
probed their hearts to the very bottom; when they perceived that his aims were purely spiritual in all his teaching-that to save the lost was the grand object of his
mission-that the abandonment of sin, self-sacrifice,
and deadness to the world, were the conditions of his
discipleship, and that the honours and distinctions
which he offered were to be reached only through toil
and sufferings, and after the scenes of this earthly life
were past; when; I say, they learned all this from the
lips of Christ, their hearts were filled, of course, with the
most intense repugnance to such a teacher and to such
demands.
Here, therefore, there were powerful moral causes to
neutralise the force of evidence, and to turn away the
mind from the exercise of faith. There was all the strength
of prejudices long cherished, and all the antipathy of selfish and unholy hearts, which must be overcome, before
they could receive Christ and his doctrines as divine.   It
was in vain that his purity of character compelled their
admiration. It was in vain that the surpassing simplicity
fnd beauty of his doctrines, as wvell as the more than
18~ 
THE HIGHEST EVIDENCE
human authority and power with which he spake, appealed
to their consciences and hearts. It was in vain that he
clearly showed them, in his expositions of the Scriptures,
that the Messianic prophecies all pointed to precisely such
a person as himself. It was in vain, that not only in
Jerusalem, but throughout the towns and villages of Gallilee, he healed the sick, restored the blind, gave hearing
to the deaf, recalled the dead to life, wrought every miracle,
in short, for which any occasion offered; and so gave
ample demonstration that in him dwelt the power of the
Most High.   The dislike of the heart prevailed over the
force of evidence and perverted the understanding.   The
obstinacy of the unyielding will resisted the decisions of
the conscience. WVicked and highly excited passions disturbed the entire action of the mind, and rendered it morbid and impulsive. In a word, those who rejected Christ,
with all his miracles before them, were so completely under
the sway of their own corruptions, in bondage to the power
of evil, that in this their present moral state there were
insurmountable impediments to the right reception of him.
The proofs were ample. To pure and upright minds they
would have been perfectly convincing. But on them they
were lost in a very great degree.   They were able, therefore, to struggle successfully against their proper force,
and to maintain themselves in spite of them in unbelief.
"Therefore they could not believe,"-says the Evangelist
in the context,-"because that Esaias said, He hath blinded
their eyes, and hardened their heart; that they should'
not see with their eyes, nor understand with their heart,
and be converted, and I should heal them." Left wholly
Ise 
MAY NOT PRODUCE BELIEF.
to themselves, no force of evidence could lead them to the
right conclusions.
From the examination we have thus given to the particular fact stated in the text, we may derive, as was observed in the beginning, some general truths in which we
ourselves have a deep and personal concern.
First of all, we are led to the conclusion that no amount
of light shed on the understanding, will, of itself, avail to
produce a genuine faith in Christ.
If when the Son of God was on the earth, the very persons who saw him raise up the dead to life by his simple
word could still persist in unbelief, then what amount of
evidence may not an evil heart resist. If a wrong state
of moral feeling could break the force of the proof which
the most imposing miracles afforded, what kind or degree
of proof can be conceived, which it may not render nugatory?
The truth is, that Christian faith, the faith that rightly
relies on Jesus Christ, supposes, along with a convinced
understanding, an acquiescing heart and will the full
consent of the voluntary nature. But while the soul is in
love with sin, and swayed by selfishness, and averse to the
holy, self-denying duties which are included in discipleship, no such consent can ever come from its hidden
depths. Let light be poured around it like the blaze of
noonday, it will be sure to find some subterfuge wherewith
to screen itself. Of this a thousand actual illustrations
may easily be found.
Here, then, is seen how great is the delusion of those
persons-we fear that there are many  of them-who,
187
:is 
188            THE HIGHEST EVIDENCB
secretly, or half-unconsciously, perhaps, but really, per
suade themselves, that the reason why they do not believe
savingly in Christ, is that they need some more convincing
proof that he is indeed the true and only Saviour. They
hear the glorious gospel. They are more or less impressed
with the character and works of Jesus Christ. Unlike
the Jews, they have no national and traditional prejudices
which stand in the way of a general acknowledgment that
Christ is the true Messiah, and that Christianity as a system is divine. In short, they have an educational belief,
a vague persuasion of the understanding even, resulting
from some examination, it may be, of the truth and importance of the peculiar Christian doctrines. But as to
the matter of exercising a personal faith in Christ, of personally becoming his hearty and avowed disciples,-they
think they cannot do it for want of proofs which should
tell with greater power for their conviction. Are there not
those in this assembly whose case is now described?-who
have imagined that could they but hear a voice immediately from heaven, or could one be sent from the dead to
testify to them, as Dives wished, they should then repent
and believe the gospel 7
Such thoughts are all delusive, certainly. Look at the
persons to whom the text refers. Suppose that Dives had
actually been sent to them. How could he have furnished
stronger evidence that he had come from the world of
spirits, than Jesus placed before them, in proof of his
divine commission    If unbelief refused to yield in one
case, why should it not have refused equally ill the other?
So in your own case. You have Christ's character, and 
MAY NOT PRODUCE BELIEF.
teachings, and miracles, and all the blessed fruits which
Christianity has brought forth in the world for eighteen
hundred years before you-and yet you do not believe in
Christ to your salvation. What if Gabriel himself were
sent to you to-day, with messages all fresh from the
throne of God? How could he offer you credentials more
decisive than those which Jesus brings? Even if he
could, would that remove the difficulties that lie not in the
understanding but in the heart? "With the heart," says
Paul, "man believeth unto righteousness."   Light-testimony-proofs-relate to the understanding. They cannot
change the heart. So long as the heart is evil, the understanding will be but partially convinced, most probably; or
if it should be wholly, the heart and will would still refuse
the consent of cordial faith. So long as your feelings, the
moral affections of your souls, continue as they are, you
will turn away from Christ, and hold on in unbelief.
This leads us to notice, secondly, the necessity which,
from the subject, it is plain exists, that to bring men
truly to believe in Christ some rectifying power should be
applied directly to the heart. And here there is no uncertainty as to what that power must be.  The renewing
of the Holy Ghost must be felt within the soul. For this
work he has been sent. Under his regenerating power it
must be fitted to receive a right impression from the truth;
must be set free from the bondage of its pride and prejudice and self-will; must be softened into tenderness,
brought into sympathy with what is holy, and so disposed
to yield itself with full and ready acquiescence to the evidence which lies before it, that Jesus is the Saviour of the
189
"I'.,
t...
I: 
THE HIGHEST EVIDENCE
world, and as such worthy of its confidence and love. "No
man can come to me," says Christ, "except the Fatherwhich
hath sent me draw him;" and again, "Except a man be born
of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God."
Yes, you, who are waiting for still stronger proofs that
Christ is your Redeemer, and that the gospel is divine,
here is your great, your absolute necessity.   This you,
most likely, do not truly feel; but such is undoubtedly the
fact. If but the Holy Ghost once breathe on your now
stubborn heart, it will thenceforth be soft and yielding.
If he take the things of Christ and reveal them unto you,
you will no longer be able to resist the overpowering impression of his glory. If he renew a right spirit within
you, your tastes and sympathies will no more be obstructions to your faith, but will have become its powerful
auxiliaries. Oh, for the coming of that Spirit from above
to do this work within you!  This is our daily prayerthe prayer of all who have believed-on your behalf. We
have no hope from stronger arguments for the truth of
our religion; no hope from greater light could it ever be
enjoyed. Our hope that you will believe in Christ and
live, rests wholly on the promise of the Spirit to convince
the world of sin and to regenerate the sinful soul. We
will cry, so long as the mercy of God shall spare you,
"Come, 0  breath, from the four winds of heaven, and
breathe on these slain, that they may live!"
Of course, we are able to see plainly, in the last place,
how utterly hopeless, though living in the midst of the
most precious Christian privileges, are those from whom
the Holy Spirit is withdrawn.
190 
MAY NOT PRODUCE BELIEF.
That he was at length withdrawn from the unbelieving
Jews is certain. Jesus himself wept over them in view
of the distressing fact: "Oh, if thou hadst known, even thou,
in this thy day, the things that belong to thy peace; but
now they are hidden from thine eyes!"  That he is now
withdrawn from many who still enjoy the gospel, there is
painful reason to believe.  The Scriptures clearly intimate
this as true; and" Grieve not the Spirit," "Quench not the
Spirit," are the warning voices which they raise; while
the moral deadness in which so many live and die are
affecting comments on their teachings.    Of course, as
light alone, however clear, will never bring them to believe in Christ; as the Holy Ghost alone is able to accomplish this, the moment he finally departs from them, the
last hope of their eternity goes out in utter darkness.
Perhaps while we were just now saying, that there was
an absolute necessity that the Holy Spirit of God should
rightly dispose the heart-your heart-in order to the
exercise of genuine faith, the question was suggested to
your thoughts, Why then does he not come, and perform
the necessary work in me? You even think, perhaps,
that you desire he would, and are waiting that he may.
Why, then, in reality does he not?  Without attempting
to pry into things which are not revealed, perhaps we can
learn something on this point. Why does he not do his
peculiar work in you?
Did you ever earnestly entreat him that he would? Did
you ever go to him in your solitary place to tell him of
all the blindness, the carnality, the perverseness of your
heart, and beg him with self-abasement and with tears
191 
192         TifE HIGHEST EVIDENCE, ETC.
to change it? Have you ever seriously sought to withdraw your heart from worldliness and folly, and to yield
it to the Spirit that he might mould it at his will   Or if
you have ever done these things, have you done them with
a deep concern and a determined perseverance?
If not, what need have you to raise the question, Why
the Holy Spirit does not come to do his renovating work
in you? Why should he. If you are not sufficiently
concerned to seek his saving help; if you will neither invite him to your heart, nor open it to give him entrance;
are not these good reasons for his absence, whatever others
there may be? It is not surely to be wondered at, in such
a case, that he does not renew your soul. Nor will it be,
if being long neglected and resisted he withdraws from
you for ever, and leaves you in the hopeless state of those
who with all the mighty miracles of Christ before them,
persisted still in their unbelief.
Ah-it is true, you who, with the clearest light, do not
believe in Christ, that you tread on perilous ground. It
is a renovated, holy heart you want-a heart touched by
the Holy Ghost.  The provisions of the gospel are not
without conditions. It is to them that ask Ihim, that your
heavenly Father is more willing to give the Holy Spirit,
than parents are to give good things unto their children.
But you ask not, seek not, knock not, at the door of
mercy. Oh, take ye heed, lest ye be left to the fatal quiet
which follows the final withdrawment of the divine Spirit
from the soul. Come while he urges you to believe in
Christ and live! 
THB DARK THINGS OF LIFE, ETC.
XII.
(t Park C?'igs of gift in   Act migh  iof
1 KINGS xvi. 22: So Tibni died, and Omri reigled.
T is a strange world in which we live. About us, on all
sides, a thousand things are constantly occurring,
which but for the fact that we have been familiar with
such events from childhood, would startle and astonish
us; and which do, even as it is, sometimes occasion many
troubled thoughts in sober and reflecting minds.
Our circle of observation, too, is very limited. We see
but little of the whole field of human life and action as
our own time presents it; to say nothing of the great
history of humanity considered as extending through all
ages. But if, by some supernatural aid, we could be
gifted with the power to see at once all that is actually
transpiring in the fortunes of mankind; or if some swiftwinged angel be imagined as making a full survey of all,
there would, of course, be seen to be vastly more to
excite one's wonder, in this all-embracing view, than falls
at present within our observation. No words could give
an adequate impression of the scenes which would be witnessed. Ornri, ascending the throne, may be regarded as
representing the extreme of fortune, on the favourable
side, since men are wont to count a throne the pinnacle of
193 
'THE DARK THffINGS OF LIFE
earthly prosperity and glory. Tibni, on the other hand,
may be taken as representing the opposite, or unfavourable extreme; since death is reckoned, by common consent, the greatest of all the ills which a human being is
liable to suffer. Between these two extremes-tlithat of
rising to the highest summit of worldly splendour and
delight, and that of sinking to the dreariness of death and
of the grave-an infinite number and variety of incidents
are momentarily occurring to the millions of mankind. If
all the passing expressions of human thought and feeling
to which these incidents are giving rise, could be conveyed
together to one ear, who can conceive the confusion and
discords of the mighty chorus so produced? Words of
tenderness and love, mingling with those of malignity and
hate; exclamations of ecstatic pleasure, blending with
groans of anguish and despair; voices of wisdom, delivering itself in high discourse, and of folly, sensuality, and
sin, giving utterances of shame  and guilt; sounds of
revelry and dancing, of pipe, and tabret, and song, of brilliant talk and of pealing laughter, along with the shrieks
of the insane, the wail of thousands stretched on the
gory battle-fields of nations, the low murmurs of deathbeds, and the sobs of broken-hearted weepers, gathered
round them; -all these and more, in one commingled
volume, would strike the stunned and bewildered sense.
They all are actually heard together every moment by the
ear of the omnipresent God.
Or if it can be conceived that all the countless phases
of human fortune which belong to any given day or hour,
should be at once presented to the eye of one observer, no
194 
LV THE JLIGHT OF RE VELA. TION.            195
pen of man or angel can portray the mingled lights and
shades of the astounding picture. Whoever chooses may
try his own imagination in the effort to realize it to himself. But we will not attempt even to sketch a faint and
general outline, of what is really beyond all human power,
not merely of description, but even of thought itself.
It is certainly no wonder, then, that life is so often pronounced a mystery. To the view of natural reason unassisted, it is a mystery, dark, perplexing, and insoluble.
Yes; without the light which revelation throws upon it,
the more one knows of life, the wider his experience of its
vicissitudes, the more profoundly mysterious it is. We
ask in vain of reason, Whence all these painful contrasts,
this confusion, this singular medley of good and evil?
But with the Bible in our hands, we do obtain at least a
partial satisfaction. If we cannot fully solve the problem
of human life as the world actually presents it everywhere,
we may assure ourselves beyond all doubt that we have
found the clue to the true solution. We may find some
lifting of the shadows which rest on the condition of
humanity;  we  may discover, even  in life's strangest
spectacles, some lessons of instruction well worthy of our
serious attention. This, then, is what we now propose:
to lead the way in some reflections on the mutability of
4uman fortunes, as contemplated in the light of our divine
religion; ill doing which, of course, we assume as granted,
the being, perfection, and universal government of God,
and the reality of a positive revelation.
The first fact which presents itself, when we consider
the singular diversities of human fortune from the posi                           13 
196           THE DARK THINGS OF LIFP.
tion now defined, is this-that human life, as it actually
appears, is plainly not in harminony with the government
and will of God. Mankind are not, in other words, what
God, in their creation, fitted them to be, and what in his
providence he has given them ample opportunityto become.
Gifted with freedom; adapted to virtuous action and
enjoyment; surrounded with means of physical, intellectual, and moral culture, instructed as to their relations
to God, and their obligations to obey him; the race, by the
abuse of their high endowments, opportunities, and knowledge, have come into bondage to appetite and sense, and
placed themselves in a state of alienation from God, and
antagonism to his authority and law. With the views of
the divine character and government which the Bible furnishes before us, the moral apostasy and ruin of mankind,
the debasement and degeneracy of their condition, the two
great facts, in a word, that they are a sinful race, and that
as such they deserve to suffer evil, are clear and undeniable. Man has himself a responsibility in relation to his
own welfare-a power, within certain limits, to determine
his own fortunes; and the Scriptures say of the race that
they have all gone out of the way, have together become
unprofitable, so that there is none that doeth good, no,
not one. Some more, and some less entirely, they have
yielded themselves to evil; but all, as alike estranged
from God, are justly liable to bear the penalties of sin.
Now, when we look with pain at the vanity of human
life-at the instability of its joys, the multiplicity of its
sorrows, and the affecting vicissitudes which it presentswe are never to forget that this condition of things is, to a 
INV TIHE LIGfHT OF REVELA TION.
very great extent, the result of the folly and madness of
mortal men themselves.  If we examine the structure of
our own being, or the constitution and course of nature,
we shall not find in either anything to make it necessary
that life should be the empty affair it too generally is.
"Thou hast made him but little lower than the angels," said
the psalmist, when he considered the noble faculties of
man. So when he surveyed the order, and beauty, and
benevolent adjustments of the natural world, he broke out
in the language of profound admiration: "0 Lord, how
manifold are thy works! In wisdom has thou made them
all. The earth is full of thy riches." Man is constitutionally capable of a far higher and better life than that
which now he leads; within his reach are richer and more
enduring enjoyments than those which now he ordinarily
attains. Did he but live in harmony with the will of the
Creator, there would still indeed be varieties of fortune,
but only varieties of good and happy fortune; and not
the painful contrasts, the mixture of good and evil, which
we at present everywhere observe.
Here, then, in this fundamental fact of human sinfulness,
we have certainly some light on the dark problem which
the chequered and ever shifting aspect of mortal life presents. The oppressive feeling which naturally arises when
we regard our race as doomed to live amidst perpetual
contingencies and change-a feeling that prompts  the
query in our minds whether or not they are justly dealt
with-is most materially relieved when we are brought to
estimate their characters and merits by the test of a perfect moral law. If we were conscious that we ourselves
197 
THE DARK THINGS OF LIFE
were innocent, and believed that the same was true of
mankind at large, our moral sense would doubtless pronounce our earthly lot unrighteously severe. Our sense
of justice would rise up against the providential government of God. But once let us admit that we are guilty
in the sight of God-unworthy of unmingled favour at
his hand-and conscience takes at once the other side.
It tells us that our measure of good is, after all, far
greater than we deserve. There is no more room for complaining thoughts. We cannot help perceiving that the
painful mutability of human happiness on earth is quite
consistent with the infinite benevolence of God. We may
observe one rising and another falling every hour; we may
pass ourselves through all varieties of fortune, and yet find
no good ground on which to impeach the wisdom or the
justice of the Supreme Ruler of the world. A sin2ful
world may well be a world of inconstant fortunes, of interrupted and precarious happiness.
A second fact which throws light on the problem presented by the inconstancy of human fortunes, is that the
present life is but the prelude or initiatory stage of an
existence without end.
With the Scriptures in our hands the doctrine of immortality is settled. That the chief scene of our existence
lies beyond that strange event which we call death, is nov
as certain as any fact of natural science. Yet it is fur
more difficult to give it practical reality to our minds.
We are in bondage to mere sense; and it is hard for us to
rid ourselves of its illusions.   It is difficult to rise above
the habit into which we naturally incline to fall, ofjudging
198 
IN THE LIGHT OF REVELATION.                199
of this life as though it were to be considered by itself;
as though death were a real, and not simply an apparent
termination of our being-a transition only from one stage
to another.
Now, it will easily be seen that it must make a mighty
difference, in our views of the events of the present life,
whether we regard it as a whole in itself, or only as a preliminary part, standing related to a far more grand and
interesting sequel afterwards to come. No wonder that
the lot of mortals appears mysterious and gloomy, considered as a complete existence.   A  few years swiftly
fleeting by; childhood, youth, manhood, age, succeeding
each other like the changes of a dream; and all exhibiting every imaginable diversity of fortune-here smiles and
there tears; now successes and now reverses; this moment
hope, the next despair; a throne to-day, a grave to-morrow.   What is there in such an existence to satisfy?
What is there worth the having? Listen to the language
of one who, denying revelation, could take no other view
of life but this.  "In man," says Voltaire, "there is more
wretchedness than in all the other animals put together.
He loves life, yet he knows that he must die. If he enjoys
a transient good, he suffers various evils, and is at last
devoured by worms.   This knowledge-of his end-is his
fatal prerogative; other animals have it not. He spends
the transient moments of existence in diffusing the miseries
which he suffers; in cuttilng the throats of his fellowcreatures for pay; in cheating and being cheated; ir.
robbing and being robbed; in serving that hlie might command; and in repenting of all he does. The bulk of 
THE DARK THINGS OF LIFE
mankind are nothing more than a crowd of wretches,
equally criminal and unfortunate; and the globe contains
rather carcasses than men. I tremble at this dreadful
picture to find that it contains a complaint against Providence itself; and I wish I had never been born!"  Ah,
wretched man! Such are the miseries of unbelief. Such
are the views of life which are likely to be taken by those
who see in it no relation to an immortal life beyond.
But this dismal picture changes its aspect at once, when
by the aid of revelation we put the present in its true relation to the future. With this illumination falling around
us from above, the events of these mortal years acquire a
new significance. Now, we perceive that this our brief
career on earth, is not our life-but only a few moments,
as it were, introductory to that life.
" 0 listen man!
A voice within us speaks the startling words,
Maii-thou shalt never die! Celestial voices
Hymn it around our souls: according harps,
By angel fingers touched, when the mild stars
Of morning sang together, sound forlth still
The song of our great immortality.
0 listen, ye our spirits; drink it in
From all the air!'tis in the gentle moonlight;
'Tis floating in day's setting glories; Night
Wrapped in her sable robe, with silent step
Comes to our bed and breathes it in our ears."
Thus assured, and  constantly reminded of  the vastness
of our being, it seems less singular, most certainly, that
this first stage of it should necessarily involve some tenmporary discomforts and privations, to say nothing here of
the mischiefs wrought  by sin.    It may obviously be true
that there are good reasons why, for this transient pre
200 
IN THIE LIGHT OF REVELATION.                201
paratoryperiod, enjoyment-happiness-should not be the
chief thing to be secured. When a young man is placed
by his parents ill the condition of an apprentice, the main
object is not to make him happy during the limited term
of years for which he serves. On the contrary, it is distinctly understood that, for the sake of the future years of
life, he is, for the present, to submit to many sacrifices;
to bear patiently not a few self-denials and privations;
and even possibly some actual hardships. Why, then,
should it be wondered at, if in this brief apprenticeship of
ours on earth, this first short scene of an interminable
existence, it should not seem to be the design of Providence to make us completely happy; if, on the contrary,
it should subject us to many trials and discomforts. Why
should it not be rationally believed, that so many, at least,
of the adversities which mark our lives as are fairly to be
attributed to the providence of God, are fitted to subserve
some ends, in reference to the future, far more important
than that of giving us a present pleasure? And if this
be admitted, then from this point of view, there are sonme
cheering rays to gild the troubled waters of life's everrestless sea. The terrible picture drawn by the pen of unbelief, which we have quoted, is seen to be essentially a
false one; and the fortunes of humanity, inconstant and
in many aspects painful as they are, seem far less mysterious and gloomy than before.
We come then to a third fact, namely, that considering
life as a school of discipline with reference to character, its
perpetual vicissitudes materially help to adapt it to its
end. 
THE DARK THINGS OF LIFE
We have just had occasion to observe, that during a
short initiatory period of our being, it may well be that
happiness should be regarded, as, for the timne, only a
secondary thing; and we have now further to add, what
in the light of the word of God we are very sure is true,
that the whole economy of things pertaining to our condition in this world, is arranged primarily with a view to the
formation of right character. In this the divine wisdom
and goodness are alike apparent. For in right character,
and in this alone, can the foundations of solid and enduring happiness be laid.
In order to right character, there must be discipline.
It is difficult for us to conceive that even a race of beings
commencing their existence in a state of innocence, should
develop virtuous and holy character, in maturity and
strength without the discipline of trials. Certainly to a
sinful race like ours, it is plain that even a severe regimen
for a season may be, if not absolutely indispensable, at
least eminently fitted to prove useful, as a means of such
development.
Painful, therefore, as it may be to contemplate the
vanity of mortal life as seen in the instability of human
fortunes, and the diversities of human condition, it cannot
be denied that this very state of things exhibits a wise
and good arrangement, for the attainment of a most important end.
How is it, for example, that mankind are most
effectually awakened from the dreams of a mere sensual
and selfish life, and brought to some serious reflection on
themselves and on their duties? Is it not by the dis
202 
IN THE LIGHT OF REVELATION.
covery that the visions of pleasure which have looked to
them so enchanting and so real, are all vanishing around
them, as the golden hues of sunset fade while yet they
are admired? How is it that men become most thoroughly
convinced that the riches, the renown, the distinctions, the
power, and all the manifold forms of worldly good, are by
no means the highest and best objects of desire? Is it
not by the experience, or the observation, of the disappointments which attend the pursuit, and the dissatisfaction and uncertainty connected with the full possession of
them? What seems so likely to lead men to feel their
dependence upon God, and to resort to him as willing to
become their Father, Friend, and portion, as the want of
sympathy they feel-and the need of something stable to
confide in-when all around them is like the shifting
sands, and nothing gives them rest? What nurses all
the kindly virtues like contact with the suffering, or being
ourselves the sufferers? How, but in the struggles which
life-long must be waged with capricious fortune, to wrest
from her the successes to be gained, or to surmount the
adversities to be endured, are all the manly energies of
virtuous character and holy principle to be called forth
into strength?
Yes, if we seriously consider, we shall see that by the
instability of human fortunes which, on the first impression, seems to cover life with gloom, there is supplied a
necessary and most salutary discipline. By this it is that
life is fitted to become to every one a noble school in
which to shape the character, and to secure the highest
and best training of the soul. Ease, quiet, uninterrupted
I
203 
7THE DARK THINGS OF LIFE
pleasures, would be nearly or quite certain, if constantly
enjoyed through a course of years, to beget weakness of
purpose, the love of self-indulgence, and a sensual and
slothful spirit.  It is in the stern conflicts of life which
grow out of its mutations;  in the wrestlings with adversity, which rouse all the faculties to action, and gird up
the whole man to the utmost energy of effort; that
patience, courage, confidence in God, and constancy to the
sense of duty, with other kindred virtues, are best originated and matured.
It remains, in the fourth place, to notice one fact more.
It is that over all the fluctuations and diversities of human
fortune, God exercises an unceasing and intelligent superintendence, directed to the end of working out the good of
those who  intrust their happiness  to  him.    Of this
deeply interesting fact the word of revelation makes us
sure.
When we look at the spectacle of life-at its vast gradation of conditions, and its never ceasing changes-we
are half inclined to feel that it is a world of chance in
which we live. It almost seems as if we ourselves, and
others, were left the sport of accident, like bubbles on a
stormy sea, driven hither and thither by the ever-varying
tempest. To think this were a great mistake. Under
such conditions it were indeed a wretched thing to live.
Instead of this, we know that in all the countless mutations of human things, there is not one, which God does
not himself directly order, or for wise purposes permit.
We know that God, having, by the provision of abundant
mercy through Jesus Christ, his Son, invited men to come
204 
IN THE LIGHT OF RE VELATION..
in their conscious guilt and weakness, and put their trust
in him, has also pledged himself to make all things work
together for good to them that do so. We know that
Jesus, the Redeemer and sufficient Saviour of the world,
has bound himself, as the faithful shepherd, to go before
his own, and to keep them unto life eternal. We hear him
promise that in the midst of outward tribulations, in him
they should have peace; and that he will not leave them
comfortless, but will come unto them.
This, then, we know with certainty; that whatever
may be, to human view, the fickleness of fortune; however many and great the vicissitudes which every day may
bring; those who shall come at the call of mercy and
make the eternal God their refuge, shall never suffer one
reverse to their real detriment; shall never see one hope
lie shattered to their harm; shall never have one tear too
many for their good wrung from them; shall never feel
one pang that shall not minister to their intenser joy at
last. God, who is able to bring good out of evil, will so
direct all changes of their lot, that even from the tossings
of the fitful sea of life, there shall eventually come to
them more perfect and serene repose.
Here, indeed, a flood of light breaks in upon the shaded
scene of life. In all the shifting acts of the ever changing
drama, the agency of God is present directing all things
to the end of blessing those who are willing to be blest.
There is no real blindness of fortune, as men have fabled,
after all. There is no fortune but the providence of God.
It is God that setteth up. It is God that casteth down.
It is he that hath pronounced those blessed always and
205 
THE DARK THINGS OF LIFE
everywhere, who heartily commit the care of their happiness to him.
We are not, then, you perceive, condemned to brood in
hopeless melancholy over the vanity and transitoriness of
the pursuits and hopes of this mortal life. We are not
like the hapless denier of revealed religion, to see in the
condition of mankind only unmitigated evil, and in view
of it to cast reproach on the great Ruler of the world. If
the human race is sinful, they involve themselves in
suffering and deserve it. If life is a short preparatory
season with reference to an endless being, it may naturally
involve the necessity of present crosses; if it is meant to
be a school of discipline, it is clearly well adapted to its
purpose.   If God presides over all the vicissitudes of fortune, to work out good for all who confide in him, those
who accept his guardianship have nothing at all to fear.
In all events, from the mounting to a throne to the
putting on of grave clothes, their interests shall alike be
safe. When, therefore, we observe or reflect upon the
changes that in the lot of man so rapidly succeed each
other, and at all the diversities of condition that everywhere appear, we are to feel that we have at least a partial
illumination of the mystery of life; we are to look on it
with unfaltering confidence in the benevolence of God;
and especially we are to study anxiously the responsibilities which it imposes upon us, in cheerful hope and faithful effort, to rise to a state of stable and perfected happiness at a future period of our being.
Let us, then, fix it in our minds, for this is the great
practical lesson of our subject, that not to understand the
206 
IN THE LIGHT OF BEVELATION.
true nature and design of life, as shown us in the Scriptures, is the greatest of calamities.  Since the chief value
of the present state of being depends on its being a place
in which the punishment of sin is for a while delayed-a
place of preparation and discipline for the eternal futurea place in which the love and care of God is pledged to
work out good to them that love him,-if we thoughtlessly neglect to notice this and act accordingly, we
endure the trials and miss all the useful ends of living
here.  Ah! how many do this in their folly!  It is the
height of folly to mistake this fleeting, shadowy, unsatisfying scene of things for the scene of our full existence I
When we regard it in this light-when we try to rear the
structure of our welfare on these false, sliding quicksands
-we doom ourselves to disappointments without solace,
to painful labours without any adequate reward. Oh,
rather let us thankfully accept the light that infinite love
has made to stream from heaven on our path.  "I am the
light of the world," saith the blessed Son of God.  Yes,
he hath brought life and immortality to light!  HE  hath
given us exceeding great and precious promises.   HE is
the Rock of Ages, on which, where all else is unstable, we
may build our hopes securely.  HE hath engaged to wipe
all the tears of those who accept and follow him, far-far
away from these transitory scenes, where he will make
tbein speedily forget the sufferings here endured, in the
solid, changeless, pure delights of heaven!  In Christ
alone, and in his gospel, is the true solution for us of
life's great mystery. If we fail to avail ourselves of this,
we may reign, we may die, we may pass through all the
207 
208      THE DARK THINGS OF LIFE, ETC.
vicissitudes that lie between-but "vanity of vanities"
will be the record of our experience; and we shall end
our sad career in a darkness to which there shall never,
never be a dawn!  From tlis may Eternal fLove preserve us! 
IHE GOSPEL TiB SOLE HOPE OF THE WORLD. 209
XIII.
Af~t 605ptI Aft Aft Nopt        - f4t Mzrlh.
MARK xvi. 15: "And  he saith unto them, Go ye into all the world and
preach the gospel to every creature."
CCEPTING the Christian revelation, we accept, of
course, the grand fact which it announces-that
Christ came to save the world.  It needed saving them
The whole significance and value of his mission must
stand on the previous fact that mankind were in a state of
moral ruin-a state as to any power of self-recovery absolutely hopeless. Not by any means that the race had
lost the God-like constitutional endowments which they
originally received-the  intellect,  the conscience, the
yearning of a spiritual nature, and that freedom of will
which lays the foundation for a just accountability. Not
that every semblance of good, every kind, and amiable,
and praiseworthy trait of character had disappeared. The
truth, precisely stated, was that the race had fallen from
a state of innocence under law, were individually condemned to die, and were so subjected to the power of
evil propensity and appetite, that the tendency to a
deeper and deeper degradation was universal and decisive.
To deny that such was the actual condition of mankind is
to deny that such a mission as that of the divine Founder
of Christianity was necessaxy; yet more, it is in effect to
i 
THE GOSPEL THE SOLE
affirm that it was an uncalled for and mistaken pity that
moved the eternal Father when he so loved the world as
to give his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on
him might not perish.
As with right views of the character of Jesus Christ it
is inot to be doubted that he rightly understood the neces sities of those for whose sake he became incarnate, so
neither can we doubt that in his work for their deliver ance he did precisely what the case demanded. We con clude also, with certainty, that when, on leaving the
world, he gave it in charge to his disciples to prosecute to
its full accomplishment the work of the world's recovery
to spiritual life and soundness, the means which he
directed them to use were, in like manner, those which
would be found most effectual to the end.
What, then, did the divine Redeemer prescribe as the
effectual remedy for the sad condition of mankind. He
simply commanded his apostles to preach the gospel, connecting with this, as we learn by a comparison of texts,
the two Christian sacraments, by the observance of which
his followers might be recognised and his Church have an
organic and visible existence. A wonderful success attended their faithful obedience to his word. That the
world is no purer and no happier at this distance of time
is to be ascribed to the fact that their successors in the
Christian ministry have not steadily and faithfully followed in their steps.   The full experiment of the prescription has, therefore, never yet been made. It is to be
made, however.   The Christian Church is charged to
make it, and now deliberately accepts the work; and I
210 
I[OPE OF THE WORLD.
design, in the present discourse, to insist on the thought
which the text, taken in its relations, fairly sets before us
-that the administration of the gospel and its ordinances
is the sole hope of the world.
You will at once perceive that the first step towards a
just illustration of this topic must be to state explicitly
what, in our apprehension of the matter, the essential
gospel is. We say the essential gospel, for we suppose
that the Christian Scriptures set forth many truths of
great interest in themselves, which yet are not so essentially a part of Christianity as a ministration of life, that
without them it loses its vital power. That is the essential gospel, on which, directly and specially, the saving
energy of Christianity depends. It is the more necessary
to speak on this point with distinctness, because that in
the entire freedom of opinion and of speech which is one
of our national birth-rights, it has sometimes happened of
late that the deism of Bolingbroke and Hume, and even a
close approximation to downright atheism, have been promulgated from the pulpit and misnamed Christianity.
But hemlock is still hemlock, though you should choose
to call it balm; and if we receive under the name of God's
appointed means of life that which in fact is noxious, we
are sure to find at length that words cannot change the
reality of things.
We say, then, distinctly that the gospel which has been
divinely prescribed as the remedy for the guilt and misery
of our race is the offer of forgiveness, spiritual renovation,
and permanent favour with God, on the basis of a redemption effected by the incarnation, sufferings, and death of
14
211 
THE GOSPEL THE SOLE
the Lord Jesus Christ, and through the mission and
agency of the Holy Ghost, the Comforter. God can and
will forgive the penitent. God can and will renew and
sanctify. God can and will adopt into his family and
confer all the privileges of sonship.   These  are the
primary truths of the essential gospel-these the glad tidings addressed to the human race as defiled, enslaved, and
disinherited by sin. Tell these things to the dying, and
you let in the light of hope on their dark and despairing
souls. Give these elementary truths, and from them the
whole system of doctrine and duty which the New Testament expounds may be developed in its completeness and
proportion. Withhold these and you withhold the real
gospel, profess to teach it as you may. Though your
speech be as the melody of waters-though it sparkle
with the pregnancy of wit, the elegance of learning, and
the quaintness of conceit-though it arrogate to itself preeminent independence, originality, and power of argument,
and profess, ever so confidently, the ability to exalt mankind,-it will, after all, have neither the essence nor the
energy of genuine Christianity. It may divert men for a
time, but cannot in the least avail to heal their inward
maladies; and their hearts unreached, uncured, will secretly
bleed on.
You will notice, also, that the power of the gospel,
according to the view of its radical truths just given, is an
internal and spiritual power.'It is not a ministry of forms
addressed to the outward sense; but of purifying and
restoring influences-of vital energy applied to the disordered and morally debased and enfeebled soul. In this
212 
HOPE OF THE WORLD.
respect, it differs widely from Judaism, and from the false
systems which human wisdom, or folly, has contrived, and
is immeasurably higher and nobler than either the former
or the latter. To attempt to connect with the admirable
simplicity of Christian truth, imposing outward pomps
and ceremonies, is to forget the very genius of Christianity.
It is just to descend from the sublime elevation on which
our Lord has placed us by that memorable declaration,
" God is a spirit, and they that worship him must worship
him in spirit and in truth," to the sensuous and every way
inferior externalism of the legal dispensation.   Judaism
prescribed its gorgeous robes, its rich adornings, and its
grand processions and pageantries in the worship of Jehovah. Christianity says simply, "Let all things be done
decently and in order. Judaism exacted costly offerings;
Christianitydemands a contrite heart. Judaism pointed the
conscience-stricken sinner to a material temple, a smoking
altar, and a sprinkling priest; Christianity bids him
"behold the Lamb of God!"  Judaism made great account
of a natural descent from Abraham; Christianity insists
on being born of the Spirit of God. Judaism was exclusive, regarding those within its own circle as especially
admitted to God's favour; Christianity, in the largeness
of its charity, declares that God is no respecter of persons,
but that, everywhere, he that feareth him and worketh
righteousness is accepted of him. Judaism accepted, as evidence of superior piety, a livelyzeal for outward observances,
such as washings, fasts, and feasts; Christianity instructs
that genuine piety consists in no such things as these, but
in righteousness and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.
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THE GOSPEL THE SOLE
Such is the gospel as a saving power. It is a leaven
that works from within outwardly. Its words are spirit
and life. It is strong in its divine simplicity. It has no
affinity for imposing rites and ceremonies, and  is only
obstructed and degraded by them. When, therefore, we
affirm that the gospel and its ordinances are the world's
sole hope, we mean to affirm that it is the preaching of
these simple and divinely energetic truths to which we
have alluded, accompanied with the two Christian sacraments, and disencumbered of all unnecessary outward form,
that is God's appointed instrumentality, for the raising up
of debased humanity to life and virtue, to holiness and
solid peace.
With this brief statement of what the gospel is conceived
to be in its elemental truths, we proceed directly to the
confirmation of the general statement that in it lies the
only hope of a sinning and suffering world.
We here take, as the ground of the whole argument, the
nature of the evils to be cured. It is true, we apprehend,
that but few persons, comparatively, even among the most
thoughtful and enlightened, are accustomed to contemplate
these evils in their full extent and import. We see and
admit that the condition of mankind is in many respects
a sad one; but from our infancy we have been familiar
with all its painful aspects. We have never known by
experience a happier state than that which we see to be
the lot of our mortal race at present, and are not able,
therefore, to judge of what we are, by comparison with
what we were, or with what we might now have been.
But suppose we make a thorough examination of the case
214 
HOPE OF THE WORLD.
Suppose we start the question, with a view to find for ourselves an answer, how men compare in character and happiness with angels, and earth as an abode with heaven.
At once an appalling disparity appears. In the one case,
everything is perfect, in the other absolutely nothing. But
why this mighty difference 7 Whence is it that this world,
so glorious in its structure and adornings, so radiant with
the beauty of the Infinite, is not the abode of perfect life
and joy? As respects their intellectual and moral nature,
men claim affinity with angels; why are they not complete
in their development and blest in their estate, like them 7
These questions would lead us to the whole melancholy
truth. We are apt to rest satisfied with the general and
very vague admission that sin has disturbed the harmony
which should subsist between God and man, and that it
may be necessary, by way of preparation for a future life,
that something should be done to adjust the difference.
It is, indeed, the prime difficulty in the case, that the individual soul is broken off from God by the transgression of
his law. It is a momentous fact that every human being;
has need to prepare for the retributions of the eternal
state. But these statements are only a fragment of the
truth. If we would state the whole, we must say that
the blighting effects of sin extend to man's entire nature,
to all his social and moral relations, and all the circumstances of his being. Nothing in himself, nothing in his
fellowship with others, nothing in the state of things around
him, is what it would have been, had he not become a
sinner. Either really, or in relation to his feelings, everythinlg is changed.
215 
THE GOSPEL THE SOLE
Look, for instance, at the body, that wonderful piece of
mechanism. Whence its liability to so many derangements, its infirmities, its pains, its decay, and final dissolution. Because of sin it is condemned to return to
dust; and, more or less remotely, it receives the recompense of irregular appetite and lawless passion in disease
and suffering,  so that while, for aught that appears, it
might have been always elastic, fresh, and youthful, a fit
organ for the spirit, it has come to be a shattered and
perishable thing. Look at the intellectual nature also. It
seems almost angelic in its constitutional powers; and
yet,OW tar it is, in fact, from a perfect condition and a
healthful and vigorous activity! It is, in by far the
greater number of cases, but very imperfectly unfolded
and disciplined, and in not a few instances is developed
scarcely at all. It is beclouded with the fogs of prejudice,
encumbered by biases, cheated by the vagaries of its own
fancy, duped by superstition, and rendered grovelling by
sensual inclinations. Look, further still, at the moral
sensibii'ties, made to appreciate the morally right, and true,
and beautiful, with an immediate and just perception, and
to be delicately susceptible to the impression of moral
obligation. In the great mass of men they are either perverted altogether, or rendered so blunt and torpid that
they exhibit their proper results but in a very slight degree.
Observe, finally, the social affections. They were given to
bind each by tender affinities to all his kind. They were
intended to originate and maintain sweet charities among
such as are joined by the ties of kindred,- and to spread
over all the pathways of life an atmosphere of benevolence
216 
HOPE OF THE WORLD.                     217
and love. But what vast portions of mankind in all past
ages, and in our own as well, have known nothing, or next
to nothing, of the pleasures of pure friendship, nothing of
domestic joys; but have lived in social discord and corruption, possessed with evil passions, and being destroyers
of each other's peace.   Remember we  are speaking of
mankind in their natural condition; as Christianity has
found them, not as it has made them when it has been
cordially received. No one, certainly, who is acquainted
with the history, or the present condition of mankind, can
hesitate to admit that mall is spiritually estranged from
God; and that, in body, in intellect, in his moral sensibilities, in his natural affections, in short, throughout his
entire being and his whole condition in the world,, he
suffers the effects of sin, and is subject to its power.
Yes, go where paganism has had its seat, where the
dogmas of false prophets and religionists have wrought
out their results, where sensuous pomps and human traditions have corrupted and obscured the truth, and where
infidelity, with its boast of superior wisdom, has cast out
faith of every kind; and there will be found in all these
circumstances a moral degradation of humanity which
reaches into every sphere of its activity, and penetrates
every ramification of its interests. It is only a literal
truth-except so far as the influence of Christianity has
been practically felt-that the whole creation groaneth
and travaileth in pain together until now. The splendid
civilizations of antiquity were only gilded aggregations of
individual and social profligacy, and literally rotted in
their own corruptions. The immensely populous nations 
THE GOSPEL THE SOLE
of modern Asia are sunk in a debasement so complete
that but few traces of anything really noble in our nature
are exhibited among them. Africa, taken altogether, is if
possible in yet a worse condition. Even in the most
favoured portions of Europe and America, how vast the
amount of such evils as result from moral degeneracy are
yet to be removed before any near approximation to a state
of general well-being can be reached! We refer here only
to facts which, to all well-informed persons, are perfectly
familiar.
The bearing of these acknowledged facts, it will be seen,
is this. The mischiefs which sin has wrought, both in
separating the individual soul from God, and in deranging
the whole economy of human society and human life, are
plainly so great, so general, so deep-seated, and inveterate,
that there is not the smallest reason to think that the
race ever would, or ever could, indeed, restore and purify
itself In the nature of the case, there is a plain necessity that some remedy should be applied of far mightier
efficacy than belongs to any of those that lie within the
range of man's own feeble powers.  He could never, for
himself, make peace with God, nor break from his own
neck the miserable yoke of sin, nor regulate the conflicting
moral elements within him, nor wake in his soul those pure
desires which alone could bear him on to a real exaltation.
In accordance with this reasoning from the nature of
human wants, is the important fact which we now notice,
in the next place, that every attempt permanently to elevate
and bless mankind by merely human instrumentalities and
efforts has resulted in disastrous failure. Experiment on
218 
HOPE OF THE WORLD.
experiment has been made.  Never finding rest, but always
like the troubled sea, humanity has reached in this direction and in that, and has had recourse to a variety of
means in order to elevate itself. When individual man,
oppressed with a sense of his own sad state, scourged by
conscience, weary with the chase of shadows, pining with
the hunger of an empty craving heart, has sought for some
effectual relief, philosophy has discoursed to him sagaciously of the summum bonum! She has led him, wondering and bewildered, through all her subtle mazes; has
perhaps amused him with beautiful theories of morals; but
she has left him, in the end, as unsatisfied and wretched
as before, because, failing, utterly, to give him what he
wanted. False systems of religion have put him at the
task of gaining inward peace by the voluntary subjection
of himself to outward suffering.   On this track he has
fled from the face of his fellow-men. In the depths of the
lonely wilderness, or in the murky caves of unfrequented
mountains, he has fixed his cheerless dwelling.  He  has
spread his pallet with thorns and lacerated his flesh with
knotted scourges; has watched, fasted, and mortified even
his innocent desires; and stifling the pleadings of nature
in his heart, has sacrificed his own children to avert apprehended wrath and purchase inward peace. But has he
gained his object by such means. He may have quieted
in some degree the accusings of a bewildered and perverted conscience; but has he made himself a happy, a
complete, and morally exalted being    Never.   Every
such expedient has proved vain.
Nor has legislation ever been found effectual for the
219 
THE GOSPEL THE SOLE
relief and the moral culture of mankind. It has, indeed,
accomplished many useful things. It has studied with
attention, and often no doubt profoundly, the problems
that concern the well-being of society. It has digested
codes of laws and arranged the details of administration,
with great sagacity and labour; and has tried now this
experiment of political economy, and now that. It has
striven to balance the conflicting powers and to harmonize
the discordant passions and interests of the various classes
that compose the state. It has prescribed to men their
style of dress, their recreations, their secular pursuits, their
divinities and modes of worship. But, after all, the good
effects of legislation have been extremely limited in comparison with the evils to be remedied; and revolutions,
anarchies, and popular debasement, have too often interrupted its action and defeated its designs. So in regard
to other similar agencies.   Poetry and eloquence have
essayed to refine individual man and to elevate the aims
and the spirit of society. They have sought to accomplish
this by presenting to the thought ideal beauty and perfection; by thrilling the sensibilities with the flow of harmonious numbers; by stirring the deep emotions of the
soul to high enthusiasm, and urging it to lofty undertakings by the force of sweet persuasion. Something has
doubtless been achieved by these and kindred agencies, at
certain times and to a moderate extent; yet they have
been, at best, but as stars above a stormy ocean, that shed
some gleams of light upon the surface, but have not power
to penetrate its depths, and still less to lull its agitations
to repose.
220 
HOPE OF THE WORLD.
In what is here asserted we are sustained by the voice
of universal history. Its explicit testimony is, that while
the causes to which we have referred, and others like them,
have had an important influence on human things, they
have never been able, either separately or combined, to
raise and purify, and generally and effectually to bless
mankind. This is the melancholy record for all nations
and for every age. The thousand sages and moralists of
ancient and modern times may have conceived and spoken
well on many points of doctrine and of duty. But what
then? They spoke, it is certain, without authority to give
weight to their instructions; without simplicity to render
them intelligible; without the certainty that what they
taught was true; and without that adaptation to the hearts
and consciences, to the nature and the wants of men,
which alone could give them access to the unreflecting
multitude. The Jeromes, the Antonies, and the Basils of
corrupt Christianity, the ascetics of Persia, and the further
East, may be allowed to have uttered just and useful precepts on deadness to the world and religious retirement
and meditation. But the attempt to impart true spiritual
life and peace to the souls of men by such methods as they
exemplified and recommended, was always found to be as
futile in experiment as it was absurd in its idea. The
Solons and Numas, the Justinians and Alfreds, of all
ages, have certainly exhibited great practical wisdom, and
often, perhaps, have done all that the nature of the case
admitted, in giving laws and framing constitutions. But
the fact is undeniable, that human passion has proved to
be beyond the control of laws. By no fault of theirs as
221 
THE GOSPEL THE SOLE
statesmen and legislators, it has laughed to scorn their
nicely adjusted systems, and the floods of licentiousness
have gone over their checks and barriers, and have swept
them all away. The masses of mankind have neither been
lifted from their debasement nor made happy by their
labours. With the fact before us that the great masters
of eloquence and poetry have breathed forth glorious
utterances, words of beauty and of power that have enmbodied noble thoughts and have sounded through the ages,
the other fact, that they have been appreciated, and even
recognised only by the comparatively few, is also too plain
to be denied. This unequivocal testimony of all history,
that the illustrious individual men of different ages, who,
from their personal endowments, or the eminence of their
position, have seemed most likely to succeed in the attempt
to elevate and purify mankind, have never in reality succeeded; and that the advancement of the race has been
mainly in connection with Christianity, at once demonstrates the insufficiency of merely human means, and
makes it plain that if there is any hope at all that the
world will ever be brought to a state of general virtue,
intelligence, and happiness, Christianity in its essential
truths, in other words, the simple gospel of Jesus Christ,
must furnish the ground on which it rests.
We reach, then, at this point, the third part of the
argument; wherein we have to show that the gospel, as
prescribed by the Son of God, does in fact embody in it
all the elements of moral power that are required in order
to the raising of the whole family of man to an exalted
and happy state.  To exhibit this part of the subject fully
222 
HOPE OF THE WORLD.
would occupy far more time and room than are now
allowed us. We can only suggest the material points, and
this in the fewest words.
What then are, let us inquire, the elements of moral
power demanded in an agency, that it may effectually
reach the case in which mankind are found 
To present the matter in the simplest possible way, we
answer-that the things required in order to the recovery
of sinful men are GRACE, LOVE, and the SPIRITUAL
ENERGY which shall give these their appropriate influence
on the heart. In other words, the instrumentality which
would restore sinful humanity to peace, and purity, and
elevated life, must be able first to relieve the conscience
from the burden of guilt which past transgressions have
imposed, and then to draw its affections toward holiness
and make them to centre on God as the infinitely Holy.
It must assure of full release from the curse of sin which
rests upon the soul, and of complete and final rescue from
the slavery of sin in which it is involved.
We say, then, that the gospel of Jesus Christ does come
to the heart of man in all the power of free and abounding
grace. It comes, that is, with the full and specific offer
of unqualified forgiveness on the part of God for past
iniquities. It has always been just here that all mere
human devices for the elevation of the world have revealed
their worthlessness. They could not meet the soul's first
want. They could not utter a word, with any certainty,
as to whether there could be any such thing as pardon for
transgression. But go to human beings where and when
you will, and speak to them of God and duty, and the
223 
THE GOSPEL THE SOLE
moment you can gain attention and can bring home to the
mind a clear conviction of the obligation of God's law,
that moment you find a burden on the conscience that
presses like a millstone.  "Oh, my sills! my sins! I feel
that they deserve a heavy judgment. They cover me
with shame and fill me with foreboding.   God is pure
infinitely pure; I dare not even lift up my eyes to him, for
the overpowering splendour of his holiness flashes on the
darkness of my soul like a devouring fire! What shall I
do? Whither shall I fly? I deserve the displeasure of
the eternally Good whom  I have so causelessly abused!
This weight upon my heart must crush me, for I cannot
roll it off!"  Such, for substance, is the language of every
awakened conscience.  Will you offer to such a man an
ingenious speculation, a plausible conjecture, the performance of a penance or a ceremony, an outward reformation,
or any similar expedient, as a relief I You may as well
propose to amuse with idle tales the wretch that writhes
upon a bed of torture  But, hark! the word " FORGIvEwsS!"   "God can and will forgive the penitent!" proclaims the gospeL "Can he? Will he? " cries the oppressed, despairing soul  "Glad tidings! glad tidings!
then there is hope-there is hope for me!"  And when
he is pointed to Christ crucified, to an atoning Saviour, to
the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world,
his soul is stirred to its lowest depths to find that his first
great want-that of deliverance from merited condemnation-is, by the grace which the gospel offers him, most
fully met.
But the work of entire recovery is as yet but half
2-24 
HOPE OP THE WORLD.
accomplished. Let the Ethiopian change his skin and the
leopard his spots, then may they also who are accustomed
to do evil learn to do well. The power of disordered
appetite and inclination is a mighty power. The chains of
sinful habit are like chains of triple brass. The apathy of
blunted moral feeling is like the drowsiness of a Lethean
stupor. The law of sin, in the members, brings the whole
man into captivity to the power of sin. In addition to forgiveness, therefore, the case of the sinful soul demands
something which can evolve within a moral force, a vital
spring of action which shall have energy enough to conquer
fixed propensity and lawless passion, to wake into activity
the moral affections and change their habitual current,
in a word, to emancipate the moral man.
Just what the case requires the gospel offers. It presents, in objective facts, to the understanding and the
heart the riches of an infinite love in God, and reveals the
certainty of an inward subjective ministry of the Divine
Spirit for the renovation of the soul. The gospel, whereever it goes, at once makes known, and is attended by, a
special vitalizing spiritual influence, which is to the obdurate, unfeeling heart on which it falls what the sunshine
and the genial showers are to the cold, hard, barren earth
-a  softening, life-producing agency.  Then it exhibits
gCod himself ag stooping to redeem! That very Being
against whom sin has been committed it reveals as full of
compassion towards the sinner so full of pure, paternal,
yes, more than paternal love, that since he might not otherwise fitly spare the sinner, he spared not his own Son, but
gave him freely for the world, that whosoever should be
I
225 
THE GOSPEL THE SOLE
lieve on him might have eternal life. It presents that Son
as voluntarily leaving the glory which he had with the
Father before the world was; as being made flesh; as descending to the condition of a servant; as being despised
and rejected of men; as enduring inward agony beyond description in the garden, although himself sinless and pure;
as making his soul an offering for sin, the one sacrifice, of
which all Jewish victims were but types,-or as he himself expressed it, as shedding his blood for many for the reimission of sins. It makes known the Father as receiving,
through the mediation of the Son, all, even the chief of
sinners, who believe in and accept him, into the estate and
)rivileges of his holy family, and to the heirship of his
eternal love and blessing.
This, then, is the wonderful economy of man's redemption, as devised and executed by that very goodness which
human sin has dishonoured and abused. These are the
heights and depths of a love towards the guilty which is
immeasurable and infinite. The inflexibleness of eternal
justice, and the yearning of eternal mercy, are together unfolded to rebellious men. Whatever is grand and awful in
unbending devotion to the right-whatever is sweet and
winning in benevolence that is spontaneous and purewhatever is admirable in condescension-whatever is
touching in suffering borne by a free self-sacrifice for the
sake of the undeserving-whatever is lovely and noble in
the goodness that receives and embraces the guilty who
are penitent,-God in Christ exhibits to the world in the
simple yet stupendous facts which constitute the gospel.
When these facts, by the power of the Divine Spirit, are so
226 
HOPE OF THE WORLD.
effectually set home on the hearts of sinful men that they
are seen and felt in somewhat of their proper force and
import, the rocky heart is melted into tenderness, the resisting will is finally subdued, the power of sin is broken,
and there is opened a fountain in the deep recesses of the
soul, from which thenceforward there gushes up a tide of
holy love to God, and to all that is truly excellent and
pure. This is the living water, of which the Saviour said,
it shall be in the soul a well of water springing up into
everlasting life. It is, in fact, a new, spiritual, progressive,
and immortal life begun-a life that has energy enough to
raise up from its ruins man's originally God-like nature, to
adorn it with every moral grace and virtue, and restore it
to its pristine glory. Such power is in the cross of Christ.
Such is the moral efficacy of that gospel, the sum and substance of which is Christ crucified a revelation of grace,
and love, and regenerating power. Neither subjectively
nor objectively is any provision needful to mankind, in
their state of sin and suffering, that the gospel does not
bring them.
If scepticism denies what it has been our purpose to
maintain, we have only to appeal to undeniable facts in
the history of Christianity. We have already seen that
every human device has failed to recover mankind from the
debasement and misery of sin. But has the gospel failed
in a single instance in which it has been fairly tried?
Where is the individual, where is the community, or the
nation, that has practically received the Christian religion,
that has not been elevated, and made virtuous and happy
exactly in proportion to the thoroughness and cordiality
15
227 
THE GOSPEL THE SOLE
of the reception? Where are now found, in all the world,
the highest excellences of private character, the best discharge of social duties, the greatest amount of public
order, intelligence, and virtue, the largest measure, in short,
of everything that charms and adorns existence here, or
qualifies for higher scenes of being-where but in those
favoured places in which the simple truths of uncorrupted
Christianity are most impressed on the minds of men 
It cannot be denied that evangelical truth has made the
world to bloom wherever it has found a way. It has
made good men and great men without number. It has
filled millions, in every walk in life, with a calm and abiding peace, in spite of all the storms, and wrestlings, and
sorrows that belong to an evil world; and has sent them,
victors over death, to people the eternal paradise of God.
The experience of all time declares the essential gospel of
Jesus Christ to be universally the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth. It is, therefore, to be
distinctly recognised and used as the sole hope of a
fallen world.
Whoever, then, is the enemy of genuine Christianity is,
it is plain, the enemy of mankind. Whoever attempts to
weaken its authority or obstruct its progress among  men,
not only assails the best hopes, the highest welfare
of the world's future, but does what in him lies to consign
that future to wretchedness and guilt without relief. The
ever-renewed attempts to overthrow the religion of the
New Testament, whether originating in pride of intellect,
in the blindness of an unbelieving heart, or in direct and
conscious hostility to truth and goodness, are all indeed
228 
HOPE OF TlE WORLD.
futile. The truth of God will ever stand, as it has stood,
unshaken, to the confusion of those that war against it.
But such will reveal themselves as the foes of human
happiness, as wanting the spirit of God's kingdom, and as,
whether intentionally or not, the allies of the prince of
darkness.   Who  would not shrink from assuming this
position?
If, then, you hold the welfare of the world as dear-if
you would wish to put an end to the groans which,
through the ages past, it has been sending up to heavenif you would desire that the day of which prophets have
foretold such glorious things may come, when joy and gladness, as the fruit of purity and love, of order, freedom, and
general intelligence and piety, shall reign through all the
earth if you would be yourselves benefactors of your
species, while exalted and made happy in your own
persons, accept heartily and practically the gospel as
it is, in its simple yet momentous  facts, and do your
utmost while you live to bring others to feel its blessed
power.
'Tis Revelation satisfies all doubts,
Explains all mysteries except her own,
And so illuminates the path of life,
That fools discover it, and stray no more.
Now tell me, dignified and sapient sir,
My man of morals, nurtured in the shades
Of Academus-is this false or true?
Is Christ the abler teacher, or the schools?
If Christ, then why resort at every turn
To Athens, or to Rome, for wisdom short
Of man's occasions, when in Him reside
Grace, knowledge, comfort-an unfathomed store?"
Yes, it is time, indeed, to abandon the poor folly of
220 
2  THf GOSPEL fTHE' O(LB HOPE, ETC.
seeking in the wisdom and the power of man what is
only to be found in the wisdom and the power of God in
Jesus Christ-relief from the guilt that crushes and
enslaves humanity, and from the woes, individual and
social, temporal and eternal, which sin has made the sad
inheritance of our self-ruined race. Christ is the Light of
the world, and in him is the Life of men. His gospel is
the world's sole hope.
0 
OOD TO BE CHOSEN AS A GU IDE.
XIV.
foi do bt rbatn as a 6uib.
JER:. iii. 4: "Wilt thou not from this time cry unto me, My Father,
thou art the guide of my youth?"
HE period of youth, consider it in whatever light we will,
is full of interest.  It is the period of comparative freedom from the contaminations of an evil world It is the
season of happy impulses, of glowing hopes, of high aspirations, of sincere and warm affections, of free and generous
confidence, and, in general, of the virtues that are most
lovely and the mamniers that are most engaging. It is
also the morning of life's day-the still lake out of which
issues its rushing stream-the gate-way to its arena-the
seed-time for its harvests of good or ill. To all who have
come to know by experience what life actually is, and who
have seriously pondered its vast and solemn responsibilities,
a group of young persons just advancing to maturity is
one of the most interesting sights to be met with in the
world.
It is especially so to the true minister of Christ. He
watches for the souls of all, as one that must give an account. But he sees in those who are on the threshold of
active life the opening buds of the garden which he has it
in charge to cultivate and keep. He comprehends their
relation to the future, and from his peculiar position he has
231 
232 OD TO BE CHOSEN AS A GUIDE.
a clearer and more impressive view than most others are
likely to have of their special circumstances and their
perils.  As he stands upon his watch-tower, and sees them
with cheerful looks and hopeful spirits coming forward to
meet life's inevitable toils and dangers, he is like one who,
posted on some headland, looks abroad on a new and well rigged fleet, that, with snowy canvas and streamers sport ing with the wind, freighted with precious treasures and
manned with noble hearts, is just issuing from the port
and putting forth on the stormy sea. It is impossible for
such a person not to look onward from this fair array to
the scene which will present itself when the howling tempest has done its desolating work. Many a good ship will
then lie an unsightly wreck, many a one will have gone
down into the unknown deep, some will have been left
crippled and scarcely better than destroyed, and only a
few of the whole number will have safely weathered the
fearful buffetings, and accomplished the objects of the
voyage. Or the Christian pastor, while he surveys the
youth around him, may be likened to an officer who is
marshalling the young and brave, and preparing them, by
proper discipline, to go forth to the contests of the field.
Such a one looks now only on freshness, strength, and
beauty. He admires the light and graceful movement, the
well-adjusted trappings, and more than all, the lofty ardour
of his band. But then he looks forward, with prophetic
glance, to the day succeeding battle. He sees only a
remnant of all his goodly company escaped safe from the
deadly struggle.  Many have fallen in the carnage and
have perished. Many are wounded to linger on and die. 
GOD TO BE CHOSEN AS A GUIDB.
Many will live only to suffer all their days from the loss of
limbs, or other enduring injurics.  Can it be otherwise
than that when the watchman for souls sees those of his
charge who are yet in early years just putting forth on
life's eventful sea, or, according to the other illustration,
just girding on the harness for the great life-battle
through which they are to pass, he should regard them
with a yearning heart, and should offer for them his earnest prayers, and give to them such counsels as his own
experience and observation, and more especially the word
of God, suggest?
It is, my younger friends, with deep interest that I
think of you, and look on you from week to week. For
you, with sincerity I hope, I do habitually bow the knee
to the Father of all mercies, beseeching him to bless and
save you; and to you, to you in a special manner, I bring
his gracious message.  The great God, your Father and
my Father, in his super-abounding goodness, does virtually
address each of you in the language of the text. You
may rightly take, as if addressed immediately to you, this
touching appeal to Israel of old,- "Wilt thou not from this
time cry unto me, My Father, thou art the guide of my
youth?" I would, if possible, assist you to decide the
question thus proposed. In doing this, I will ask you to
consider the need in which you stand of guidance, the
wisdom of making God your guide, and the fitness of
the present as the time in which to receive him in that
character.
I say then, first of all, that you do greatly need some
aithful and effective guidance in the shaping of your live&
I
233 
234      GOD TO BE CIHOSEN AS A GUIDE.
The need is at once obvious and pressing. It rests upon
so many grounds, that in any attempt to state them, the
only difficulty lies in being brief. Some of them, how ever, I will notice.
You need such guidance because the path of duty and
of safety is often exceedingly difficult to find. The great
principles on which every person is bound to act in the
ordering of his life, are indeed well settled. They are
authoritatively delivered in the Scriptures, are assented to
by reason and conscience, and have been confirmed and
illustrated by experience. The principles to which I here
refer are the general principles of moral duty —as, for
example, that we should acknowledge the existence and
perfection of God; that we should love him first and best
of all, and our neighbours as ourself; together with the
common laws of prudence,-such as that intelligence, industry, economy, forethought, and the like, are necessary
conditions of success, and of safety and happiness in
living. In respect to these there need be no perplexity.
But with you, as capable of reflection, of judgment, and of
choice, is left the responsibility of making the application
of these principles in all the practical details of life. In
every important step, almost at every hour of every day,
you are obliged to raise the questions-Is this right?  Is
this wrong? Is this true? Is this expedient? Is this
safe?-and then immediately to decide and act on your
decision. Often when determining what you are bound
to accept as duty or to receive as truth, you have many
circumstances to consider, many probabilities to estimate,
many opposing arguments to weigh. You are aware that 
GOD TO BE CHOSEN AS A GUIDE.
the most trifling actions, or those that seem such, are often
followed by most momentous consequences, and so you
are at a loss to know how much importance to attach to
what you do. In short, while the general direction in
which you are to move, if you intend to live wisely, is
obvious enough, you may still find perplexities at every
point, to extricate yourselves from which will try, perhaps
even baffle, your utmost wisdom. The wrong ways are a
thousand, the right way is but one. The wrong looks
often like the right, the right often like the wrong. Who
is sufficient for these things? Who of you can trust
himself,-can venture to take his way unaided through
all the mazes of the labyrinth of life, to shape his own
course, amidst treacherous shoals and hidden rocks, across
the mighty sea   You cannot seriously consider the difficulty you must find in determining your way without
perceiving clearly that you need effectual guidance.
You need such guidance, also, because your own strong
impulses are likely to mislead you. We had occasion in
a preceding discourse, and in another connection, to notice
the fact that the natural appetites and passions, and the
desires and propensities which choice and habit have
created, may exert a very great influence on the judgmenrt.
This is true, not only in deciding between truth and falsehood, but as well in deciding between right and wvrong.
It is easy to believe that to be right or useful which
accords with inclination. It is hard to think that to be
obligatory, or best, to which the feelings are averse, and
which involves the necessity of painful self-deniaL Let
two paths lie before the weary traveller, the one of which
235 
236      QOD TO BE CIHOSEN AS A GUIDE.
leads smoothly along the plain, while the other climbs the
rugged steep, and he is strongly predisposed to believe
the more agreeable the right.
Now, although it is certainly true, in an important sense
that Wisdom's ways are pleasantness, and all her paths
are peace, it is by no means true that all her ways are
agreeable to present inclination, or the bent of the sinful
heart. You will find often that appetite and passion will
,plead against the plain and positive demands of duty;
and it will require a strong resistance to overcome this
pleading and to make a choice against all selfish impulses,
in obedience to conscience. How great, then, the embarrassment which the desire of self-indulgence must many times
occasion, when duty is not plain, but doubtful, and you
have it to determine! How easily, in such circumstances,
may the impulses of feeling pervert the understanding,
and so make the worse appear the better reason as to lead
you utterly astray! Is it not nearly certain, since you
form your decisions in the affairs of every day under such
misleading influences, that without some wise guidance
you will be drawn aside from duty and from peace; that
you will be led into the pursuit of some of the thousand
phantoms,-.
"That lead to bewilder, and dazzle to blind"
and which, after dancing for a while before the eye, on a
sudden grow dim and disappear? Such a result would
seem to be inevitable.
Still further, you need guidance in the shaping of your
lives, because there are many who will studiously seek
your ruins It is hard always to make the young believe 
GOD TO BE CHOSEN AS A GUIDE.i
this; yet sooner or later experience brings conviction of
the fact. There are found even in the best conditions of
society the openly debased and vicious. They have broken away from moral restraint and disowned the authority
of conscience. They have given full dominion to appetite
and lust. Like the master whom they have given themselves to serve, they have said in their hearts
"Evil, be thou my good;"
and like him, they go about contimnually seeking whom
they may devour. Having learned to be unscrupulously
immoral, or even impious, and unblushingly to glory in
their shame, they are ready to make others as shameless
as themselves: not that they boldly avow this as their
object,-if they did this, the danger were comparatively
small,-but by their spirit and example, they first taint
the moral atmosphere around those whom they are desirous to corrupt, and then gradually draw them, by one
artifice and another, down to their own pollution.
Besides the grossly wicked, there are many others who
will seek to reach you with influences fitted to destroy
your virtuous sentiments, and principles, and your ultimate well-being.   There are many not openly corrupt,
who  are utterly corrupt in heart. - While they exhibit,
perhaps, respectable outward morals, this class of persons
will either distinctly advocate, or covertly let fall, the most
loose and pernicious maxims and opinions.  If possible,
they will infuse into your minds their own dreary scepticism, their light estimate of serious things, and especially
their contempt for the piety and conscientiousness of
decidedly religious men. By such methods, though retain
237 
GOD TO BE CHOSEN AS A GUIDE.
ing themselves some outward show of respect for goodness,
they will try to sap all the foundations of goodness in your
heart. It is difficult to say which is the more dangerous
to encounter-those who are unblushingly wicked in their
lives, or those whose depravity is artful and concealed.
Through such enemies to your virtue and peace, and
others which need not be particularly described, you have
to make your way. To avoid them is impossible. To
escape their influence and to elude their artifices is often
extremely difficult. When least suspecting danger, your
feet may be entangled in their net. Oh, who that comprehends how much he has at stake, can help trembling,
when he thinks that so many and such deadly foes beset
all the path of life he is to tread! Can any young person,
who seriously reflects on his position, doubt that he greatly
needs some friendly direction on his way? If, then, we
also add the great revealed truth, that the prince and
powers of darkness are likewise ever watching to allure
your feet into the ways of death, new grounds of apprehension are supplied which make the need to appear more
urgent still
I will only mention further, that your need of guidance
is strongly set forth in the melancholy fact that so many
are continually ruined. Where many fall, there is reason
that all should fear. Look, then, at facts, which are
offered on all sides to your notice, in illustration of the
perils that beset you. Or if you will take a wider view,
apply to those whose opportunities and experience have
been greater than your own. Go to some man now past
the meridian of life, whose character and habits, with the
238 
GOD TO BE CHOSEN AS A GUIDE.
divine blessing, have made him honoured and successful.
He was one of a band, more or less numerous, who set out
in life together. They came forth from their homes and
from the schoolroom differing, perhaps, but little either in
their talents or acquirements. Ask him to tell you where
those his early associates are now, and what he remembers
of their history. Ah! how painful the recollection and
the recital! One, he will say, as he brings back the halfforgotten past, looked on the wine when it was red, and
he went early to the drunkard's grave. Another yielded
to the love of vain display; and after a brief career of
brilliant folly and extravagance, he passed by bankruptcy
to poverty, and was soon forgotten by the world. A third
indulged, at first, in some trifling dishonesty, and then
was led on till he became a villain, and finally went to
prison, or to an ignominious death. A fourth gave loose
to sensual appetite; and then from impurity of thought
and word, he went on step by step, till he suffered the
miseries, and met at last the fate of the worn-out profligate.  A fifth was taken in the gambler's snare, and fell
by suicide. A sixth but why should I go on? So daily
perish, on life's broad arena, the hopes of fathers and of
mothers!  So sink into the depths of shame and ruin
many who should have shone as brilliant stars in the galaxy
of intellect  should have found a place among the noblest
spirits that have ever done honour to humanity and
climbed the enviable heights of fair renown.   The roadside of life is all whitened with the bones of the multitudes who have fallen thus, having made, by their own missteps, an utter wreck of their hopes, their characters, and
239 
240      GOD TO BE CHOSEN AS A GUIDE.
their all. With such evidence of the perils of your future,
can you doubt your need of some friendly hand to lead you?
Let us pass on, then, in the second place, to insist on
the reasonableness, the wisdom of making God your
guide. On this part of the subject I must be comparatively brief. A thousand reasons might easily be mentioned why every young person, whatever may be his
particular position, should look up with a filial spirit unto
God, and cry, "My  Father, THOU art the guide of my
youth." I must content myself, however, with two which
seem to be the chief, and which may in some sort comnprehend the rest, or at least suggest them.
The first is, that you owe it to God himself thus to
honour him with your confidence.  It is his right to expect
it of you. That your hearts should be directed towards
him, that you should recognise him as the Fountain of all
wisdom, as the providential Director of events, as the
Father of your spirits, and the benevolent Guardian of
your welfare, and should commit yourselves to the leading
of his will,-all necessarily results from the fact that he
is what he is, God over all, the perfection of being, the
essence and centre of all goodness.  Since he is such a
Being, he is in the highest degree competent to guide you.
He most perfectly understands the constitution of your
nature, for he made it what it is. He knows every spring
of thought, feeling, and desire, and every avenue by which
either good or evil influence can find access to your heart.
When the line of duty is obscure and you are troubled in
spirit with perplexity and doubt, he can make light to
bra in upon you as when the morning dawns in beauty 
GOD TO BE CHOSEN AS A GUIDE.
upon the night.  When passion is restless and clamours
for indulgence, he can so breathe his Spirit on you, as to
hush all the tumult of the soul to peace. When wicked
men and wicked spirits are watching around you with
intent to destroy you, if they can, he can put over you
the shield of his almightiness, and defend you from every
device by which they would work you ill. Thus qualified
to afford you the very guidance that you need, when out
of pure good-will to you he condescends to offer it, can it
be doubtful whether it is due to him that you should
gratefully accept the offer? Not to do it is to treat him
with dishonour. That you have not done it hitherto, if
indeed you have failed to do it, has given him reason to
say in reference to you, as he said in respect to Israel by
the prophet, "If I then be a Father, where is now mine
honour?"
The second reason which ought to determine you to
take God to be your guide is this, that God alone can
afford you a sufficient guidance. That he is able to grant
you an effectual safe-conduct, has just now been observed.
But where can you find another to whose care and leading
you can safely and without anxiety commit the infinitely
precious interests of your being?   Do you think of
parents?  Have you a parent who is wise enough and
strong enough to guide and keep you in all the emergencies of life, and who is also omnipresent? Will you choose
your favourite teacher, or the moralist, or the philosopher
you most admire?  Believe it, you will find when the
hour of trial comes, that you can as soon light up black
midnight with a taper, or defend yourselves against wild
241 
242      GOD TO BE CHOSEN AS A GUIDE.
beasts with straws, as solve your gloomy doubts and
make your safety sure by any such assistance. Will you
rely on your own reason to conduct you? And so did
thousands who now groan beneath the hopeless wreck of
ruined happiness and ruined souls! No, no, my youthful
friends; neither will any human wisdom, nor any human
aid, be found equal to your need. Learn all you can from
the counsels of wise parents. Despise not the teachings
of the schools, nor the lessons of true philosophy. Develop your own reason and listen to its voice. But trust
in none of these as your grand reliance. God alone can
be your sufficient guide.
It only remains, therefore, in the third place, to consider
the question of time. When should God's offered guidance
be accepted? May it be accepted now? We wish to
insist on the fitness of securing it at once.  "Wilt thou not
from this time cry unto me? " Such is the divine demand.
The fact that the present is a practicable time-a time
in which, without hindrance, God may be intelligently and
cordially accepted as a guide-is in itself a proof that it
is a proper time. If you are ever to enjoy God's guidance
ever to have him lead you through the trials and the
perils of the wilderness of life, it must be by your own
deliberate and hearty act.   At some specific time you
must cry to him for the purpose of expressing your desire.
Humbly, earnestly, and as one that cannot do without it,
you must ask at his hands the blessing which you want.
What, then, is there to forbid the immediate presentation
of your suit? You are now in the enjoyment of health
and reason, with nothing to prevent you from attending 
GOD TO BE CHOSEN AS A GUIDE.
to the matter intelligently and calmly. On the part of
God there is nothing to hinder your free approach to the
mercy-seat, and nothing to shut out your request. Around
you is the holy stillness of the Sabbath, and all the sweet
and sacred influences of the Christian sanctuary; so that
if you are really disposed to take your gracious Father as
your guide in this auspicious hour, there is nothing to
oppose. You may now secure this inestimable good. This
hour of grace is therefore a fit, because a most favourable
time.
Still further, the present time is the very time that God
himself proposes:  "Remember now thy Creator."  So
everywhere throughout the Scriptures. It is always in the
present, and never in the future, that he issues his commands and holds out his invitations. This makes your
duty plain. Suppose that some person of distinction had
proposed to grant you a great favour, to receive which you
were to call on him at his dwelling. If he had specified
no time at which you should present yourself, you might
naturally feel solicitude lest you should disoblige him by
calling at an inconvenient hour. But he himself has precisely fixed the time. Then surely you can feel no embarrassment whatever. No hour can be so suitable as that
which he has named. The case is just the same in the
matter now before us. In offering himself to you, as
a kind, a faithful, and an all-sufficient guide, the Father
of all mercy is pleased to name the time in which you
may accept the benefit. What other time, let me demand of
you, can be so fit as this present passing hour which he has
specified i  "Wilt thou not from this time cry unto me "
16
243 
GOD TO BE CHOSEN' AS A GUIDE.
But this is not all. It is at this present time that your
need of the blessing in question is becoming manifest and
urgent. The difficulties and the dangers that create the
need are not remote, but are now actually at hand.  If it
is true that they are likely to thicken as you go forward,
it is true also that they are already numerous and formidable enough; Plainly it is here, at the very opening of
life's great and momentous scene, at that stand-point from
which there are so many divergent paths, that it is especially fit that you should choose your guide. You want
now his friendly offices, that you may not start wrong in
the race. You want them now, that you may not waste
in bewilderment and error the choicest, freshest, palmiest
days of your existence, or, stumbling at the outset, be precipitated to an untimely and fatal fall. Is it not preeminently fit that you should now take hold of God's
conducting hand, since it is at this time that it will be
most signally a blessing to you to be directed by it?
Finally, the fact that the present may not improbably
be the only time in which you will have it in your power
to secure the divine guidance, affords yet another illustration of the fitness of the opportunity now afforded. You
remember what the Scriptures say of those who have rejected God's advances: "Because I have called, and ye
refused; I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded; but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and
would none of my reproof: I also will laugh at your
calamity; I will mock when your fear conmeth; when your
fear cormeth as desolation, and your destruction cometh as
a whirlwind; when distress and anguish come uponi you:
244 
GOD TO BE CHOSEN AS A GUIDE.
then shall ye call upon me, but I will not answer; ye shall
seek me early, but ye shall not find me; for that ye hated
instruction, and did not choose the fear of the Lord."
Appalling words! A very brief period, you who are now
in the freshness and blossom of your youth, may bring
important changes in God's mode of dealing with you. It
may cut you off from the Christian privileges you now
enjoy. It may, by some visitation of divine Providence
which it shall bring, so disturb and agitate your mind
with cares or sufferings, as to render you incapable of cool
reflection. It may place you in circumstances in which it
shall be morally impossible for you to make God your
friend, and to secure his protecting care. In a word, if
you do not accept the present call of God, and respond
with a sincere and earnest heart, "My Father, thou art
the guide of my youth," it is highly probable that many
of you at least will never ask his guidance till too late;
and for the want of it will go astray, as so many have
done before you, and miserably perish. Oh, is not this
most eminently the fitting time for the final turning of
your soul to God, in the recognition of him as your only
sufficient guide.
Will you listen, then, to God's gracious call at once I
Through the great sacrifice of Calvary, the dying love of
Jesus, you may become a child of God to-day, a holy,
happy child, if you have not been one before. These
hours of youth are flying, flying swiftly, like vapours
driven by the wind.   Onward-onward to all that is
serious in life, in death, and in the eternity beyond, you
are hastening rapidly, with the steady march of time
245 
246        GOD TO BE CHOSEN AS A GUIDE.
The question what shall be your characters and destiny
will soon be unalterably settled.    Shall it be settled
well?  Would that I had the power to lay this solemn
question, in all its proper weight, upon each of your
souls!   Would  that I had the power to uncover  in
your sight the perils that shall certainly attend your
every step in life; and then that I might rend before
your eyes the mighty veil that now conceals the secrets of
that tremendous future down whose interminable ages
each soul for itself is ere long to begin its flight! Then
you might see how blessed and glorious you may be, if
you will but at once submit yourselves to the kind leadings
of Eternal Love; and how fallen, ruined, and unalterably
wretched you must be, if you reject God's guidance, and
so are lost to good. At least you will bear me witness,
when you and I shall meet,-as meet we shall before
God's great tribunal,-if it be found that, refusing to
take his guidance, you were hopelessly undone, that
you perished not unwarned, not without being tenderly
entreated to accept the proffered guidance of that compassionate and loving Father who had it in his heart to
receive you as a child, and to love and bless you evermore.
"The fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from
evil, that is understanding." 
THE VALUE OF A LIFE, ETC.
XV.
(Zt 4alnt d a sift as rtlaftb fgo Or    t imt.
LUKx x. 23, 24: "And he turned him unto his disciples, and said
privately, Blessed are the eyes which see the things that ye see: for l
tell you, that many prophets and kings have desired to see those things,
which ye see, and have not seen them; and to hear those things which
ye hear, and have not heard themn."
HAT  our blessed Lord wished his disciples to under       stand when he addressed to them these words was
this,-that they ought to esteem it a great advantage to
live in his time, to hear his words, and to see his mighty
works. As compared with the ages in which the kings
and prophets lived, who had predicted, and longed to see,
the day when the Messiah, the Hope of Israel, should
come, the era in which Christ appeared and exercised his
ministry among men was as the sunrise to the glimmer of
early dawn,-an era of pre-eminent light and opportunity,
in which, rightly understood, it was indeed an inestimable
privilege to live. Taken in this view, the text naturally
suggests the thought that the value of any human life
depends essentially on the circumstances under which
that life is to be lived. It is for the sake of this thought
that I have called your attention to the passage. Nothing
better occurs to me than to address you, as appropriate to
this occasion, on the value of a life, as estimated in relation to this our time, and to the present condition of the
world
247 
THE TVAL UE OF A LIFE
Let the subject be distinctly understood. The value of
any individual life, in given circumstances, will of course
depend on the amount of natural capacity possessed, on
the end proposed in living, and on the length to which
the life extends. But it is not of these things that I
desire to speak. I wish to take just the opposite view.
I wish to show that, with a given capacity, a given rectitude of purpose, and a given length of days, the value of
a life in the present state of things, as regards ourselves, is
vastly greater than it could have been at any former period
of the world.
Another word of explanation before proceeding with
the subject. The value of a life. To whom? I shall perhaps be asked.   To the individual himself; or to the
world and the universe?  Both, it may be answered;its intrinsic value in all its relations and results. The
value of a life is proportioned to what is accomplished by
it in the broadest possible estimate.
What I have to show, then, in order to illustrate the
truth derived from the text is, that, in respect to all the
chief circumstances on which the value of a life must depend, our time has a vast superiority over all past periods
of the world.
I say then, first of all, that in no past age of the world
have such means of individual development existed as are
now enjoyed by us.
As to the early intellectual and social condition of the
Oriental nations, with the exception of the Hebrews, we
know comparatively little.  That of the Egyptians is
involved in similar obscurity.   No  doubt that in the
248 
AS RELATED TO OUR TIME.
countries of the further East, in Media and in Persia, and
also on the Nile, there was, at an early period, a very considerable amount of a certain kind of intellectual culture.
There is ample evidence, however, that it was narrow in
its range, and confined to a particular class, or classes, including but a small portion of the people. Among the
Greeks, education in art, letters, and philosophy, was certainly carried to a high degree of refinement; and the
Romans, on the basis of Grecian learning, wrought out for
their time a splendid literature. But neither among the
Greeks nor the Romans was knowledge widely diffused:
the facilities for education were not accessible to the
masses; and while philosophers speculated acutely, both
in the Old and the New Academy, and statesmen, orators,
historians, and poets appeared in illustrious succession, it
was nevertheless true that, for by far the greater portion
of the population, the means of individual culture were
very limited indeed. Without the printing press the dissemination of thought was difficult and slow.
Since the revival of learning in modern times, there has
undoubtedly been a steadily advancing extension of knowledge and education among the western nations.  Italy,
Germany, England, and France, have had their golden
periods of intellectual development, the result of which
has been works in the various departments of letters and
science, which are not likely to perish so long as the world
shall stand. But if we look, for example, at the condition
of the great body of the Italian people in the best days of
the Medici; or of the German people in the time of
Frederick the Great, or of Luther; or at that of the
249 
THE VALUE OF A LIFE
English people in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, or even
of  Queen Anne; or at that of the French people in the
days of Louis XIV., it is plain that, in respect to the
means of education, in the common meaning of the term,
and still more in respect to other influences which tend
to make every man a man, those periods were far behind
the present century. The difference in favour of the pre sent-is greater, in fact, than we find it easy to believe.
We need not speak of the present state of other coun tries. It will be sufficient for our purpose to confine our
attention to our own; and when we assert that never
before, since the world began, did any entire people enjoy
such means of individual development as we are enjoying
now and here, the only difficulty in substantiating the assertion lies in the abundance of the proof at hand. For what
are the means by which individual life is awakened, stimulated, and matured into healthful vigour? Are schools
essential? But when and where were schools of every
grade, from the nursery to the university, brought so completely within the reach of all who are willing to receive
their benefits, as among  ourselves  to-day?   Are the
products of the press effective tothe end? But was any
people ever so completely deluged with newspapers, magazines, and quarterlies, with children's books, school books,
books in every department of literature and science, of
philosophy and religion; books of all prices, of all sizes,
and on all conceivable subjects? Are words spoken by
living lips adapted to quicken individual souls and elicit
their hidden forces? I Did ever a land resound from end
to end and through all its deep recesses as does this, with
250 
A$S RELATED TO OUR TIME.
harangues of all imaginable sorts-lectures, speeches, sermons, debates, forensic arguments and scholarly orations 7
Is individual mind aroused and excited by the general
spirit of society, the atmosphere of intellectual and moral
life by which it is surrounded? Where was there ever
such an intensity of social energy-such vehemence of
thought and purpose, such burning, restless eagerness of
soul-as we see glowing in all eyes, and breathing through
all the activities of the social system, in this our time and
country?   And lastly, does Christianity, with her disclosures of man's personal responsibility and the grandeur
of his being as related to God and immortality, with her
holy inspirations, and her manifold vitalizing influences,
act powerfully on individual man for his exaltation I
Where, then, or at what other time, has Christianity been
brought to bear so widely, and directly, and with so little
to obstruct her healthful action, on the hearts and lives of
men, as in all the older portions of our land, where, as an
all-pervading force, she exerts a moulding influence alike
on institutions and on people? We are not saying that
any or all these means of individual development are producing all the results to be desired; or that in the matter
of profiting by them, we have not many things to learn.
We may have been, we may still be bad scholars, however
good the schooL   But it is undeniable that the means
themselves are such as were never enjoyed to an equal
extent before. If there is not among us, as a people,
more individuality-more force of personal character, intellectual and moral-or to say the whole in short, more
real manhood and womanhood than have been found in
251 
THE VALUE OF A LIFE
other centuries, it can only be because we have not understood our birthright, and have failed to make the best use
of our advantages.  What is the truth on this point we
will not now inquire. Enough that there is everything
in our position that would seem necessary to bring out
whatever may be in us, and to make the most of all our
capabilities. So far as the value of a life depends on the
means of individual development, it was never so great as now.
I come then to say further, as a second thing, that never
before did any people enjoy such liberty and scope of useful action as our time is now affording us.
I do not here refer to our civil and religious freedom,
except as these are the necessary conditions of all activity.
It is to the multitudinous openings for useful and honourable action, the unequalled number and variety of proffered opportunities, that I have special reference. In no
age has the restlessness of man failed to express itself in
one way or another. But it has to a great extent been
true in former centuries that few paths comparatively,
leading to good and noble ends, have been open to the
larger portion of society.  In  Babylon and Nineveh, in
Egypt, in Greece and Rome, in the feudal ages of Europe,
not only was there a lack of the means to produce a high
degree of individual development, but what of such development there actually was, could not express itself in
appropriate activities; in part from the checks and hindrances imposed by despotic governments, and in part
because the opening of the manifold channels of industry
and enterprise is a work pertaining to a higher state of
civilization than had then been reached. Not having open
252 
AS RELATED TO OUR TIME.                  253
to it ways of good and wholesome effort, the force of
society, by a sort of necessity, then expended itself in
civil contests, in fierce and bloody wars, or in chimerical
and fruitless undertakings, like the Crusades. In proportion as European civilization has advanced, there has been
more of individual liberty and an increase of facilities for
individual action there; but within the present century
there has been an advance beyond anything before conceived, and more among ourselves than anywhere else
not even excepting England, which in all healthful progress is at the head of the Old World.
Look a moment at the facts. There is no check to the
liberty of individual action on the part of the government
under which we live, except simply what is demanded as
a condition of social order.   What that is right, and
honourable, and good, is not every member of society free
to do to the full measure of his capacity?  And then what
prizes-of wealth, of social happiness, of knowledge, of
fame, of station, and of power, are not within the reach of
even the most humble?  What sort of talent is there to
which there is not open some good and inviting field?
Will a man till the ground?   He  is enabled now by
science and mechanical skill to do it in the most productive manner and with the least expenditure of labour?
Will a man engage in trade?  What is there that is not
made an article of traffic, from the very stones and the
hills of sand and pebbles, up to the richest products of
nature and of art; and whither can one look, over lands
or seas, to the four winds of heaven, that he shall not see
the beaten paths of commerce right before him, inviting 
THE VALUE OF A LIFE
him to try his fortune if he will? Will a man speak?
There are thousands of listening ears awaiting him. Will
he write? Millions of hungry readers are ready to devour
every worthy product of his pen. Will he be a statesman?
No hamlet in the land is so remote that his sayings and
doings shall not be known and debated there. Will any
one live in seclusion and give himself to thought? Electric
wires and thundering trains will bring him incessant stimulants to thinking, and will enable him to transmit his
thoughts to others, if he will, before they have had time
to cooL Will one devote himself to philanthropic labours?
He will neither want materials to work upon, nor sympathy and co-operation in his efforts. Will he rise to the
height of Christian heroism, and, inspired with faith and
love, attempt self-sacrificing toils in the dissemination of
the Christian faith I He will find himself united with
vast multitudes of kindred spirit, and will easily put himself in connection with remotest regions of the world. I
need not pursue this course of illustration. To every one
of us there is given, by the time and place in which we
live, a liberty for every sort of action, an extent and scope
of influence impossible to any age preceding, and such as
the men of other generations could never even have
imagined. The reality is beyond their dreams. If the
end of life is useful action, when were there such facilities
as at this day?
Still further, it may be added, as a third fact in relation
to our time, that never so much as now was right individual effort effective for great results. All ages have had
those who, in comparison with others of their time, have
254 
AS RELATED TO OUR TIME.
done great things, and have left enduring marks of their
power upon the world. But how many of the best and
wisest of other times have laboured all their lives to accomplish some noble purpose, for which their age was not
prepared, or in the way of which the existing state of
things arrayed a thousand difficulties!  IHow many of the
choicest and most gifted spirits of our race have sown in
tears, through years of patient toil, the seed of blessings
not by any possibility to be reaped till long after they
were dead!  The memories of such are fragrant through
the ages. They are God's jewels, that have gleamed out
often amidst surrounding rubbish. If there is any sight
more noble than all others in this world, it is that of men
or women expending their best energies upon some work
of love, with their eyes fixed only on those who shall live
when they have lain down, perhaps long, in the silent
dust. This is pre-eminently the God-like in well-doingthe sublime spectacle of disinterested goodness.
But after all, it is certainly to be regarded as a thing to
be desired, to be ourselves permitted to reap, at least to
beyin to reap, where we have sown. It is a happiness to
be placed in a position in which the ruling forces around
us appear to be working with us, and not against us; to
see that the course of divine Providence, the currents of
human thought and opinion, and the general movements
of society, combine to give effect to our right endeavours,
whatever their specific character may be. It is certainly
a most natural and reasonable desire, that our welldirected efforts may be attended not only with the largest,
but with the speediest possible results.
265 
ToH VALUE OF A LIFE
Now, I am very far from saying that there are no diffi
culties to be encountered in our time by those who strive
to accomplish something worthy in their lives. There are
now, and probably always will be, difficulties not only to
be met, but to be strenuously wrestled with, in doing good
in this evil world. The ample and unprecedented facilities for doing almost anything to which we have referred,
by no means presuppose the absence of opposing influences. Labour itself is irksome; and by a law of our
condition, as fixed by divine Providence, no considerable
good can be attained without effort made with some degree
of self-denial, and in opposition to some things which will
test courage, energy, and patience. There would be no
room for great and heroic conduct if such were not the
case.
But when I say that at no time before was individual
effort so effective, so sure to be fruitful, and that speedily,
of good results, I would have the following things considered:  First, that along with means of individual development,
and liberty and scope of action, there is in the world at
large-in the more enlightened portion of mankind-a
greatly increased susceptibility to new and right impressions.  There is far less of- iertia, in man and in society,
to be overcome, in the introduction of any new truth,
the giving of any new impulse, the setting in mnotion of
any new enterprise that can be shown to be at once
possible and useful, than there ever was before. The
rapid progress of art, science, intercommunication, and
commerce, the collision of thought and interest in a thou
256 
AS RELATED TO OUR TIME.                   257
sand ways unknown to other generations, have roused the
popular mind from its former lethargy. It is awake, susceptible, quick to apprehend. Instead of being wedded to
the old, and prejudiced against the new, it is, perhaps
even to a perilous degree, disposed to distrust the old and
to crave and seize the new.   In such a state of things,
whatever is said or done with earnestness and power is
sure to tell effectually.  Seed sown, whatever it may be,
is likely to come speedily to the harvest.
A second circumstance that goes to the same point is,
that the present seems to be peculiarly a crisis in the history of nations and of mankind, on which great interests
for the future are depending. There are such periods in
individual life. How often a young man is seen to be
brought, as it were, to a determining point for all his
coming years!  Within a short space he will settle and fix
his principles, his character, his plan of life and action.
A little influence on him then becomes a most momentous
influence, because it may decide so much in relation to all
his future history. Very much like thlis, I apprehend, is
the present era in the progress of the world. It is true of
the whole civilized world, to a great extent, it is eminently
true in regard to our own country, that great issues for
coming generations appear to be crowded into this period
in which we live, to be decided, for better or for worse,
within a comparatively limited time.  The greatest and
most vital questions in regard to education, to civil and
religious rights and institutions, to government and laws,
to philosophy, morals, and religion, have come up, in the
general excitenment of the day, for new and more thorough 
THE VAL UE OF A LIFE
and searching discussion. These earnest discussions will
settle, in our own case, right or wrong, things which will
enter, as elements of life or death, the character and state
of the mighty people that in the next and in succeeding
centuries shall occupy and fill this land. To act now,
therefore, is to act at the decisive moment,-as when a
force comes into the field of battle just when the contest
is the hottest, and victory is hanging in suspense! The
greatest results may often be achieved, in such a special
juncture, by doing what in ordinary circumstances might
accomplish very little. We of the present generation may
not only help to decide aright the great practical questions
of our time, but we may see the effects of our influence to
such an extent that we may be assured that victory inclines towards the right, and so be able to anticipate the
thanks that grateful posterity will render us. It is a noble
thing to live when not only a few leading persons, but every
individual, in proportion to what hlie is, may act with great
results, at least the beginnings and the certainty of which
he may also himself be allowed to see. Life, at such a
juncture, must be allowed to have a special value.
I will notice but one more feature of our time which
stands in special relation to the present value of a life. I
think we cannot be mistaken in affirming that never before
was Christ, the Head of that divine kingdom which is to
filld and transform the world, so manifestly as now bringing
into effective action the great spiritual forces of that kingdomr. I would not speak on this point in a vague and
general manner.   Let  me  explain  precisely  what  I
mean.
258 
AS RELATED TO OUR TIME.
The view which divine revelation gives us, and which
we as believers in that revelation take, in relation to the
future of the world, is this: That Christ, as the  Redeemer of the world, has an invisible and spiritual dominion over it and in it; that this kingdom essentially
consists in the establishment of truth, and right, and love,
as permanent and controlling forces, in the hearts of men;
that it is the setting up of this kingdom that is to bring
in that far better and happier period of the world-that
golden age-for which humanity is sighing, and to which
the hopes of the human race continually go forward; and
that, for the evolution of the powers and influences of this
kingdom, Christ has from the day of his ascension been
administering the providential government of the world.
These, I say, to us are simple facts of revelation.
But it has never been the method of Providence to lead
on faster than mankind, or at least the most advanced
portion of mankind, were able to follow. It has plainly
b e e n the purpose of Christ to bring in his reign in such a
way as at once to help on and to keep pace with the culture and progress of the race. As he said to the disciples,
"I have many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear
t h e m now," even so in effect he has been saying to the
people of past centuries, I have many works to do, many
spiritual forces to reveal, in the moral regeneration of the
world, but ye are not ready for them yet. So the day of
his special power has lingered. Things have progressed,
someti       mes with powerful impulses, yet the general progress
has seemed slow. Good men have lived, and laboured,
and              suffered-have prayed, and waited, and died-sus                           17
259 
THE VALUE OF A LIFE
tained by steady faith, without having seen the signs of
the coming of the Son of man with power.
But consider what has happened within the present
century, by which the powerful coming of Christ to set
up his reign is seen.  The last century closed with two
great acts-the achievement of American freedom, which
was as the rising of a day star to the nations; and the
dreadful tragedy of the French Revolution; and these,
with the subsequent career of the first French emperor, so
shattered the old foundations of tyranny in Europe and
America, that the whole structure has tottered ever since,
and cannot be made secure. Oppression maylinger for some
time longer, in the shape of governmental despotism or of
domestic slavery; but He who comes to preach deliverance to the captive, and the opening of the prison doors to
them that are bound, has given it the death-blow. Die it
must and will, in spite of all the commercial and political
doctors in the world. It is a question of mere time.
At the opening of this century, Christ, who is the Life,
wrought in his Church the beginnings of a new spiritual
vitality, the fruit of which was a waking up to the great
duty of carrying the blessings of Christianity to every
creature. So was inaugurated the missionary work which
is never to cease till not only the mountain-tops of the
long benighted lands shall all be gilded by the beams of
the Sun of righteousness, but even the lowliest valleys
shall be flooded with his light.
The Holy Scriptures, which testify of Christ, embody
his teachings, reveal immortality, redemption, and eternal
retribution, and which are one of the great moral instrumen
260 
AS RELATED TO OUR TIME.                 261
talities of his kingdom, in connection chiefly with the missionary work, he has caused to be translated into more
than a hundred and fifty tongues, including all the most
important languages of men. So He who is to reign is
applying his truth to the universal heart of humanity.
Finally, the Holy Spirit, the highest and most wonderful and effective force of the spiritual kingdom of Christ,
and which it is given him to dispense, he has poured out,
within this century, to an extent and with a power of
operation which has put cavillers to silence, and given
even the great body of believers a new conception altogether as to the part he has to do in bringing the world
to its coming day of joy.
What impressive illustrations of the power of Christ in
the dispensation of the Spirit, and of his grace in bestowing pardon and peace with God, have the last two or three
years afforded in all parts of our country! What age before has ever witnessed such 7 Wonders of a similar kind
are now occurring in long-afflicted Ireland, and even in
staid and unimpulsive Scotland herself. In England, too,
the good work is now begun; and in Norway and Sweden
it is going on with power.  Christian life, Christian unity
in spirit, Christian philanthropy and love, Christian acti vity and zeal-these are the blessed fruits of the Holy
Spirit's work
In these and other similar things, which must be traced
directly to the power and grace of Christ, as the Head of
the kingdom of God among mankind, we not only find the
proof that he is more than ever revealing himself as intent
on subduing the world unto himself, but we find also the 
THE VALUE OF A LIFE
ground of reasonable expectation that he is now going on
to make, comparatively, a short work on the earth.   We
seem to see him come at last, in the fulness of time, to
work mightily in his people, and, as it were, to put him self at their head for the speedy conquest and moral puri fication of the world. Whether, therefore, we think of the
privilege of seeing all these glorious revelations of Christ's
agency and headship, or of the honour and the happiness of
being permitted for years to co-operate with him in the
great movements he is starting, a life at such a time must
have a special value a value, as compared with a life lived
in other periods of the world, beyond all computation.
Blessed, indeed, are the eyes that see the things that we
see, and that hear the things that we hear-far, far beyond
the blessedness of those who lived when Christ was on
the earth, or at any other time before or since his coming.
Let us pause, then, at this point, for time will not allow
us to prolong our necessarily imperfect sketch of the striking features of our day let us pause and deliberately estimate, each one, as an individual, the value of a life at such
an era. QLite probably, we have not seriously considered
it.  It is, indeed, exceedingly difficult to appreciate it
fully. We can only approximate the truth by dwelling
distinctly on the fact, that, as regards the means of improving to the utmost all our capacities; the liberty of
acting as we will, with unlimited room for choice; the opt
portunity to labour with the highest effectiveness to accomplish something worthy and to make our mark upon
the world; and the privilege of feeling that, more sensibly
than any before us ever could have done, we are entering
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into the decisive movements of Jesus Christ for the re covery of the world to truth, and righteousness, and love
-it is only, I say, by dwelling on the fact that in all
these things we have a vast advantage over those who
have lived before us, that we can come in any good degree
to comprehend the real worth of this short life which it is
given us to live-which we are living, in these auspicious
circumstances.  How incalculable the loss to us, if we so
fail to reflect on our position as that we do not comprehend the truth!
For what that is admirable in character, that is right and
noble in action, that is glorious in achievement, and honourable and blessed in active sympathywith Christ, is not within
our reach?  We may, certainly, even in our favourable ircumstances, live to but very little purpose. We may live
selfishly, pursuing mean and unworthy ends, to make a
little show, to hoard up wealth with greediness, to chase
any of the vain shadows of earthly and sensual good.
But if we know the worth of life, and act accordingly,
what may not we who are alive at this day, or some of us,
become before we die 7 What energy of virtuous action,
what beautiful examples of well-doing, in the various
spheres of duty, may we not exhibit to the world 2 What
may we not, in part or whole, accomplish, in which we
and others may rejoice, and for which this and other times
will cherish and bless our memories? What wondrous
changes in the condition of the world, involving the vastly
augmented welfare of our race, may we not see wrought
out by Christ, and in part through our own instrumentality, before our sun of life shall set? 
THE VAL-UE OF A LIFE
These questions may be appropriately put to all in every
assembly. They have, however, special force as addressed
to those who are yet young. You, my young friends,
some of you may live to see the close of the present century; and if the forty years last past have wrought such
changes, the forty that shall follow will, with the greatest
probability, bring others still more wonderful.  The year
1900 will see the population of our country spreading from
the one ocean to the other. It will see us, if a united
people, and still smiled upon by Providence, the most
powerful people on the globe. It will see the institution
of slavery hasting to its end, if not destroyed. It will see
the power of Christianity in this land and in the world
prodigiously augmented. It will see the hopes of humanity
far brighter, as the prospects of the future will be far more
bright and cheering, than they have ever been before. O
young man, young woman, that may live to reach that
date, will it not then seem to you to have been a thing
sublime and blessed to have not only lived in the midst
of such events, but also to have borne in them some earnest, high, and honourable part!  Yes, yes, it will; believe it, and wake now fully and finally to the inexpressible value of a life in such a time as this in which it is
given you to live! But most of us now here will have
closed our mortal course long before the last sands of this
century run out. It is for us to make the most of every
moment that remains.
Let me only say, in closing, that with the thought of
the divine goodness, in permitting us to live in such a
period, we may quicken our gratitude to-day. While with
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a thousand tender and pleasant recollections we offer
thanks to Ahl-ighty God, while-in our families our hearts
are gladdened with influences of cheerfulness and love, let
us reflect how widely different had been our lot in any of the
centuries gone by. For all the good and hopeful things
that it is now given our eyes to see and our ears to hear,
for everythling that enhances the value of a life in this
our native land, and in this our most momentous era, let
us render hearty thanksgiving to our God.   May  his
Spirit so touch our hearts as to call forth from them that
genuine gratitude which is "the perfume of the soul!"
May he give us some just sense of our high responsibility,
and kindle in our souls such Christian aspirations, such
lofty purposes, such firm resolves to make the utmost of
our lives, that, having given our years to Christ, and done
our utmost in his service, we may go to our graves at last
as the summer sun goes down serenely to his setting, and
keep an eternal thanksgiving with the Church of the redeemed amidst the splendours of his throne!*
' The above discourse was delivered on occasion of the Annual Thanksgiving.
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