^m >8- M LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNl/^ Received . Beptexriher.^ 1 88 5* Accessiotis No. ^77-^/ Shelf No. r REMARKS ON THE INTERNAL EVIDENCE FOR THE TRUTH OF KebeaJei KeJijgxon. J^ (Z,^^ ,^. ^/^^< ;^w^ S^- ." ('%^^<£^ /r^3. tiif^^ 1/y. (J^^/f2Z KEMAEKS ON THE INTERNAL EVIDENCE FOR THE TRUTH OF mtSjeatXetr ^tli^im. By THOMAS ERSKINE, Eso. ADVOCATE. ^<^^ OP THR N^ ; TILE TIFTn EDITION* / EDINBURGH: PRINTED FOR WAUGH & INNES, EDINBURGH; AND OGLE, DUNCAN & CO. LONDON. 1821. ^7 "^y ysy ^ I INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. Theue is a principle in our nature which makes us dissatisfied with unexplained and unconnected facts; which leads us to theo- rize all the particulars of our knowledge, or to form in our minds some system of causes sufficient to explain or produce the effects which we see ; and which teaches us to believe or disbelieve in the truth of any system which may be presented to us, just as it appears adequate or inadequate to af- ford that explanation of which we are in pursuit. We have an intuitive perception that the appearances of Nature are connect- ed by the relation of cause and effect ; and we have also an instinctive desire to classify and arrange the seemingly confused mass of B 2 facts with which we are surrounded, ac- cording to this distinguishing relationship. From these principles have proceeded all the theories which were ever formed by man. But these principles alone can never make a true theory : They teach us to theo- rize; but experience is necessary in order to theorize justly. A^^^^ must be acquainted with. the ordinary operation of causes^ be- fore we. can combine them into a theory which will satisfy the mind. But when we are convinced of the real existence p^ cause in Nature, and vdien we finatniii'k class of physical facts is explained by the supposi- tion of this cause, aiicT tallies exactly with its ordinary operation, we resist both reason^ and instinct when we resist the conviction that this, class of facts does result from this cause. On this process of reasoning is ground- ed our conviction, that the various pheno- mena of the heavenly bodies are results from the principle or law of gravitation. That great master of theories, Adam Smith, has given a most appropriate and beautiful illustration of this process, in his " History of Astronomy." He has there shown, how the speculative system was always accom- modated to the phenomena which had been observed ; and how, on each new discovery in point of fact, a corresponding change necessarily took place in the form of the system. There is another process of reasoning, ^ differing somewhat from that which has 1 been described, yet closely allied to it ; by ' which, instead of ascending from effects to a cause, we descend from a cause to effect^. " When we are once convinced of the exist- ) ence of a cause, and are acquainted with ( its ordinary mode of operation, we are pre- pared to give a certain degree of credit to a history of other effects attributed to it, provided we can trace the connexion be- tween them. As an illustration of this, I shall suppose, that the steam-engine, and the application of it to the movement of vessels, was known in China in the days of Archimedes ; and that a foolish lying tra- veller had found his way from Sicily to China, and had there seen an exhibition of a steam-boat, and had been admitted to examine the mechanical apparatus of it, — and, upon his return home, had, amongst many palpable fables, related the true par- 4 ticulars of this exhibition, — what feeling would this relation have probably excited in his audience ? The fact itself was a strange one, and different in appearance from any thing with which they were ac* quainted : It was also associated with other stories that seemed to have falsehood stamp- ed on the very face of them. What means, then, had the hearers of distinguishing the true from the false ? Some of the rabble might probably give a stupid and wonder- ing kind of credit to the whole ; whilst the judicious but unscientific hearers would re- ject the v^^hole. Now, supposing that the relation had come to the ears of Archime- des, and that he had sent for the man, and interrogated him ; and, from his unorderly and unscientific, but accurate specification of boilers, and cylinders, and pipes, and fur- naces, and wheels, had drawn out the me- chanical theory of the steam-boat, — he might have told his friends, " The travel- ler may be a liar; but this is a truth. I have a stronger evidence for it than his testi- mony, or the testimony of any man : It is a truth in the nature of things. The effect which the man has described is the legiti- mate and certain result of the apparatus which he has described. If he has fabri- cated this account, he must be a great phi- losopher. At all events, his narration is founded on an unquestionable general truth." Had the traveller committed an error in his specification, that defect would have operated as an obstacle to the convic- tion of Archimedes; because, where the facts which are testified constitute the parts of a system, they must, in order to produce conviction, be viewed in their relation to one another, and in their combined bearing on the general result. Unless they are thus viewed, they are not seen as they really ex- ist,— they do not hold their proper ground. A single detached pipe or boiler or valve could not produce the effects of the steam- engine ; and a man who knows no more about it than that it contains such a de- tached part, may very well laugh at the ef- fects related of the whole machine ; but, in truth, the fault lies in his own ignorance of the subject. But these two processes of reasoning which have been described, are not exclu- sively applied to physical causes and effects : We reason precisely in the same way with_ regard to men and their actions. When the history of a man's life is presented to us, we naturally theorize upon it; and, from a com- parison of the different facts contained in it, we arrive at a conviction that he was actuated by ambition, avarice, benevolence, or some other principle. We know that these principles exist, and we know also their ordinary mode of operation : When, therefore, we see the operation, we refer it to the cause which best explains it. In this manner we arrange the characters with which we are acquainted under certain classes ; and we anticipate the conduct of our friends when they come to be placed in certain circumstances. And when we are at a distance from any of them, and receive an account of their conduct upon some parti- cular occasion, we give our unhesitating be- lief at once, if the account coincides with that abstract view which we have taken of their characters ; but if it varies very con- siderably from or is directly opposed to that view, we refuse our immediate belief, and wait for further evidence. Thus, if we hear that a friend, in whose integrity we have perfect confidence, has committed a dis- honest action, we place our former know- ledge of our friend in opposition to the testimony of our informer, and we anxi- ously look for an explanation. Before our minds are easy on the subject, we must either discover some circumstance in the action which may bring it under the ge- neral principle which we have formed with regard to his character, or else we must form to ourselves some new general prin- ciple which will explain it. We reason in the same way of the in- telligence of actions as we do of their mo-" ( rality. When we see an object obtained by means of a plan evidently adapted for its accomplishment, we refer the formation of the plan to design. We reason in this case also from the cause to the effect ; and we conclude, that a strong intelligence, when combined with a desire after a particular object, will form and execute some plan adapted to the accomplishment of that par- ticular object. An ambitious man of ta- lents will, we are sure, fix his desires on some particular situation of eminence, and will form some scheme fitted for its attain- 8 ment. If an intimate and judicious friend of Julius Caesar had retired to some distant corner of the world, before the commence- ment of the political career of that wonder- ful man, and had there received an accurate history of every circumstance of his conduct, how would he have received it ? He would certainly have believed it ; and not merely because he knew that Caesar was ambitious, but also because he could discern that every step of his progress, as recorded in the his- tory, was adapted with admirable intelli- gence to accomplish the object of his am- bition. His belief of the history, therefore^ would rest on two considerations, — first, that the object attributed by it to Caesar corresponded with the general principle un- der which he had classed the moral charac- ter of Caesar; and, secondly, that there was evident, through the course of the history, a perfect adaptation of means to an end. He would have believed just on the same prin- ciple that compelled Archimedes to believe the history of the steam-boat. ( In all these processes of reasoning, we \ have examples of conviction, upon an evi- dence which is, most strictly speaking, in- 9 ternal, — an evidence altogether independ-1 ent of our confidence in tlie veracity of th6 narrator of the facts. Siuely, then, in a system which purports' jto be a revelation from heaven, and to con- ; tain a history of God's dealings with men, and to develop truths with regard to the • moral government of the universe, the know- ( ledge and belief of which will lead to hap- / piness here and hereafter, w^e may expect to \ find (if its pretensions are well founded) an/ evidence for its truth, which shall be inde- ^ pendent of all external testimony. Butivhat , are the,precise principles on which the inter- ' il§lje^\ldence foror against a Divine revela- tion of religion must rest ? We cannot have'' any internal evidence on a subject which is in all its parts and bearings and relations en- tirely new to us ; because, in truth, the i^-^ ternaleyidence depends solely_on our knQ\y- ledge that certain causes are,.fpilowed_by: certain effects : Therefore, if a new train of causes and effects perfectly different from'^ any thing which we have before known, be j presented to us, all our notions of probabi- lity, all our anticipations of results, and all ( our references to causes, by which we are B2 10 '" accustomed to judge of theories and his- t ories, become utterly useless. In the hy- , pothetical case of Archimedes deciding on ' the story of the steam-boat, the judgment which he may be supposed to have given was grounded on his belief that similar causes^would produce similar effects, and on his experience that the causes which the traveller specified were actually follow- ed in nature by the effects which he speci- fied. The philosopher had never seen this 'pariicidar comhination of causes ; but he knew each distinct cause, with its distinct train of consequents ; and thus he antici- pated the general result of the combina- tion. So also the credit attached to the nar- rative of Caesar's exploits, by his distant friend, was grounded on the conviction that ambition would lead Caesar to aim at em- pire, and on the knowledge that this ob- ject could not be attained except by that course which Caesar pursued. Although C the circumstances were new, he could al- ( most have predicted, from analogy, that, whether the desigri proved finally success- / fill or not, Caesar would certainly form the design, and construct some such pt«;0^r its accomplishment. ^^^V^ Our acq^uaintance, then, with cer causes_as necessarily connected with cer- tain effects, and our intuitive conviction that this same connexion will always sub- sist between these causes and effects, form the basis of all our just anticipations for the., future, and of all our notions of probability and internal evidence, with regard to the systems or histories, both physical and mo- ral, which may be presented to us. If, then, the subject-matter of Divine ; revelation be entirely new to us, we cannots possibly have any ground on which we may ( rest our judgment as to its probability. But is this the case with that »}^tem of religion which is called Christianity ? Is the object which it has in view an entirely new object ? Is the moral mechanism which it employs for the accomplishment of that object, dif- ferent in kind from that moral mechanism which we ourselves set to work every day upon our fellow-creatures whose conduct we wish to influence in some particular di- rection, or from that by which we feel our- selves to be led in the ordinary course oi 12 providence ? Is the character of the Great Being to whose inspiration this system is ascribed, and whose actions are recorded by it, entirely unknown to us, except through the medium of this revelation? Far from it. Like Archimedes in the case which I have supposed, we have never before seen this 'particular comhination of causes brought to bear on this particular combination of results ; but we are acquainted with each particular cause, and w^e can trace its dis- tinct train of consequents ; and thus we can understand the relation between the whole of the combined causes and the whole of the combined results. The first faint outline of Christianity pre- sents to us a view of God operating on the characters of men through a manifestation of his own character, in order that, by lead- ing them to participate in some measure of his moral likeness, they may also in some measure participate of his happiness. Every man who believes in the existence of a Supreme Moral Governor, and has considered the relations in which this be- lief places him, must have formed to him- self some scheme of religion analogous to 13 that which I have described. The indica- tions of the divine character, in nature, and providence, and conscience, were surely gi- ven to direct and instruct us in our rela- tions to God and his creatures. The indi- cations of his kindness have a tendency to ^ attract our gratitude, and the indications \ of his disapprobation to check and alarm us. We infer that his own character truly embodies all those qualities which he ap- proves, and is perfectly free from all which . he condemns. The man who adopts this ■ scheme of natural religion, which, though deficient in -point of practical influence over the human mind, as shall be afterwards ex- plained, is yet true, — and who has learned from experience to refer actions to their moral causes, — -is in possession of all the elementary principles which qualify him to judge of the internal evidence of Christia- nity. He can judge of Christianity as the rude ship- carpenter of a barbarous age could judge of a British ship of the line, or as the scientific anatomist of the eye could judge of a telescope which he had never v seen before. He who holds this scheme of natural re- 14 ligion, will believe in its truth (and I con- ) ceive justly), because it urges him to what is good, deters him from what is evil, and coincides generally with all that he feels and observes ; and this very belief which he holds on these grounds, will naturally lead him to believe in the truth of another scheme which tends directly to the same moral object, but much more specifically and powerfully, and coincides much more minutely with his feelings and observa- tions. The perfect moral tendency of its doc- trines, is a ground on which the Bible of- ten rests its plea of authenticity and im- portance. Whatever principle of belief tends to promote real moral perfection, pos- sesses in some degree the quality of truth. By moral perfection, I mean the percep- tion of what is right, followed by the love of it and the doing of it. This quality, therefore, necessarily implies a true view of the relations in which we stand to all the beings with whom we are connected. In this sense. Pope's famous line is per- fectly just, — " His (faith) can't be wrong, whose life is in the right." But it is evi- 15 dent, that a man may be a very useful member of this world's society, without ever thinking of the true relation in which he stands to the beings about him. Pru- dence, honourable feelings, and instinctive good-nature, may insure to any man, in or- dinary times, an excellent reputation. But the scene of our present contemplation lies in the spiritual universe of God, and the character that we speak of must be adapt- ed to that society. We cannot but be- lieve that true moral perfection contains the elements of happiness in that higher state ; and therefore we cannot but believe that that view of our moral relations, and of the beings to whom we are so related, which leads to this moral perfection, must be the true view. But if the attainment of this character be the important object, why lay so much stress upon any particu- lar view ? The reason is obvious : We cannot, according to the constitution of our nature, induce upon our minds any parti- cular state of moral feeling without an ade- quate cause. We cannot feel anger, or love, or hatred, or fear, by simply endea- vouring so to feel. In order to have the 16 feeling, we must have same object present to our minds which will naturally excite the feeling. Therefore, as moral perfec- tion consists of a combination of moral feel- ings (leading to correspondent action), it can only have place in a mind which is un- der the impression or has a present view of those objects which naturally produce that combination of feelings. The object of this Dissertation is to an- alyse the component parts of the Christian scheme of doctrine, with reference to its \ bearings both on the character of God and on the character of man ; and to demon- strate, that its facts not only present an ex- / pressive exhibition of all the moral quali- ties which can be conceived to reside in the /Divine mind, but also contain all those ob- jects which have a natural tendency to ex- cite and suggest in the human mind that combination of moral feelings which has ( been termed moral perfection. We shall • thus arrive at a conclusion with regard to ; the facts of revelation, analogous to that at \ which Archimedes arrived with regard to / the narrative of the traveller, — viz. a con- ^ viction that they contain a general truth 17 in relation to the characters both of God and of man ; and that therefore the Apos- tles must either have witnessed them, as they assert, or they must have been the most marvellous philosophers that the world ever saw. Their system is true in the na- ture of things, even w^ere they proved to be impostors. When God, through his prophet Jere- miah, refutes the pretensions of the false teachers of that day, he says, — " If they had stood in my counsel, and had caused my people to hear my words, then they should have turned them from their evil way, and from the evil of their doings." This moral tendency of its doctrines, then, is- the evidence which the book itself ap- peals to for the proof of its authenticity; and surely it is no more than justice, that this evidence should be candidly examin- ed. This is an evidence, also, on w-hich the apostle Paul frequently rests the whole weight of the gospel. According to this theory of the mode in which a rational judgment of the truth and excellence of a religion may be formed, it is not enough to show, in proof of its au- 18 thenticitv, that the facts which it affimis concerning the dealings of God With his creatures, do exhibit his moral perfections in the highest degree ; it must also be shown, that these facts, when present to the mind of man, do naturally, according to the constitution of his being, tend to excite and suggest that combination of feel- ings which constitutes his moral perfection. But when we read a history which autho- ritatively claims to be an exhibition of the character of God in his dealings with men, — if we find in it that which fills and over- flows our most dilated conceptions of moral worth and loveliness in the Supreme Be- ing, and at the same time feel that it is triumphant in every appeal that it makes to our consciences, in its statements of the obliquity and corruption of our own hearts, — and if our reason farther discovers a sys- tem of powerful moral stimulants, embo- died in the facts of this history, which ne- cessarily tend to produce in the mind a re- semblance to that high character which is there portrayed, — if we discern that the spirit of this history gives peace to the conscience by the very exhibition which 19 quickens its sensibility — that it dispels the terrors of guilt by the very fact which as- sociates sin with the full loathing of the heart — that it combines in one wondrous and consistent whole our most fearful fore- bodings and our most splendid anticipa- tions for futurity — that it inspires a pure and elevated and joyful hope for eternity, by those very declarations which attach a deeper and more interesting obligation to the discharge of the minutest part of hu- man duty, — if we see that the object of all its tendencies is the perfection of moral happiness, and that these tendencies are naturally connected with the belief of its narration, — if w'e see all this in the gospel, we may then say that our own eyes have seen its truth, and that we need no other testimony : We may then well believe that God has been pleased, in pity to our wretch- edness, and in condescension to our feeble- ness, to clothe the eternal laws which re^ gulate his spiritual government, in such a form as may be palpable to our concep- tions, and adapted to the urgency of our necessities. 30 This theory of internal evidence, though founded on analogy, is yet essentially dif- ferent in almost all respects from that view of the subject which Bishop_ Butler has given, in his most valuable and philosophi- cal work on the analogy between natural and revealed religion. His design was to answer objections against revealed religion, arising out of the difficulties connected with many of its doctrines, by showing that pre- cisely the same difficulties occur in natural religion and in the ordinary course of pro- vidence. This argument converts even the difficulties of revelation into evidences of its genuineness ; because it employs them to establish the identity of the Author of Revelation and the Author of Nature. My object is quite different. I mean to show that there is an intelligible and necessary connexion between the doctrinal facts of re- velation and the character of God (as de- duced from natural religion), in the same way as there is an intelligible and neces- sary connexion between the character of a man and his most characteristic actions ; and farther, that the belief of these doctri- nal facts has an intelligible and necessary 21 tendency to produce the Christiai'x^ebaTac- ter, ill the same way that the belief of liaus^ ger has an intelHgible and necessary ten- dency to produce fear. Perhaps it may appear to some minds, that although all this should be admitted, little or no weight has been added to the evidence for the truth of revelation. These persons have been in the habit of thinking that the miraculous inspiration of the Scrip- tures is the sole point of importance: Whereas the inspiration, when demon- strated, Is'no more than an evidence for the truth of that system which is communicat- ed through this channel. If th^ Christian system be true, it would have been so al- * though it had never been miraculously re- vealed to men. This principle, at least, is completely recognized with regard to the moral precepts. The duties of justice and benevolence are acknowledged to be reali- ties altogether independent of the enforce- ments of any inspired revelation. The cha- racter of God is just as immutable, and as independent of any inspired revelation, as these duties ; and so also are the acts of government proceeding from this charac- i^ ter. We cannot have stronger evidence for \ any truth \yhatever, than that which we . have for the reality of moral obligation^ Upon this basis has been reared the sys- tem of natural religion as far as relates to ) the moral character of God, by simply \ clothing the Supreme Being with all the / moral excellencies of human nature in an j infinite degree. A system of religion which \ is opposed to these moral obligations, is op- posed also to right reason. This sense of i moral obligation, then, which is the stand- I ard to which reason instructs man to ad- 1^ just his system of natural religion, conti- / nues to be the test bj which he ought to V try air pretensions to divine revelation. If the actions ascribed to God by any system of religion present a view of the divine cha- racter which is at variance with the idea of moral perfection, we have no reason to believe that these are really the actions of God. But if, on the contrary, they have a strong and distinct tendency to elevate and dilate our notions of goodness, and are in perfect harmony with these notions, we have reason to believe that they may be the actions of God ; because they are 23 intimately connected with those moral con- victions which form the first principles of all our reasonings on this subject. This,--j then, is the first reason able test of the truth ^ of a religioii^^^hat^itjlm < the moral constitution of the hmnan mind./ But, secondly, we know, that, independent-,^ ly of all moral reasoning or consideration, / our minds, by their natural constitution, are liable to receive certain impressions \ from certain objects when present to them. I Thus, without any exercise of the moral judgment, they are liable to the impres- sions of love and hatred, and fear and hope, when certain corresponding objects are pre- sented to them. And it is evident that the moral character is determined by the habitual direction which is given to these affections. iSTow if the actions attributed to God by any system of religion, be really such objects, as when present to the mind, do not stir the affections at all, that reli- gion cannot influence the character, and is therefore utterly useless : If they be such as do indeed rouse the affections, but at the same time give them a wrong direction, that religion is worse than useless—it is ) / pernicious: Bui if they can be shown to be such as have a necessary tendency to excite these natural emotions on the be- half of goodness, and to draw the current of our affections and wills into this moral channel, we are entitled to draw another argument, from this circumstance, in fa- vour of the truth of that religion ; because we may presume that God v/ould suit his communications to the capacities and in- stincts of his creatures. The second test, then, of thfiJ^rutlipf a religion, is — that it should coincide with the JL>7^y^^c«/ constitu- tion of the human mind. But, farther, there is much moral evil and much misery in the world. There are many bad pas- sions in the mind ; and there is a series of events continually going forward, which tend to excite a great variety of feelings. Now, a religion has one of the characters of truth, when it is accommodated to all these circumstances, — when it offers par- don without lowering the standard of mo- ral duty ; when its principles convert the varied events into opportunities of growing in conformity to God, and of acquiring the character of happiness ; and when it tem- 25 pers the elevation of prosperity, and the de- pression of adversity. The third test, then, of the truth of a religion, is, — thatvit should / coincide with the circumstances in which man is found in this w^orld. It may be said, that a religion in which these three conditions meet, rests upon the most in- disputable axioms of the science of human nature. All these conditions can be proved to meet in the religion of the Bible ; and the wide divergence from them which is so palpable in all other religious systems, phi- losophical as wtU as popular, which have come to our knowledge, is a very strong argument for the Divine inspiration of the Bible, especially when the artless simpli- city of its manner, and the circumstances of the country in which it was written, are taken into consideration. It may be proper to remark, that the acts attributed to the Divine government are usually termed " doctrines," to distin- * guish them from the moral precepts of a ^t * *4ft^ rife ■ ^^' £r *• •S' ^' reliffion. -^^ * « ?^<«j«rj i**'^*'^ <~*-'«%-m^ ^"^ A*^fji ^: When I make use of the terms " mani- festation" and " exhibition," which I shall have frequent occasion to do in the course c 26 of the following observations, I am very far from meaning any thing like a mere sem- blance of action without the substance. In fact, nothing can be a true manifestation of the Divine character, which is not, at the same time, a direct and necessary re- sult of the Divine principles, and a true narration of the Divine conduct. But / these terms suit best with the leading idea \ which I wish to explain, — viz. that the / facts of revelation are developments of the \ moral principles of the Deity, and carry \ an influential address to the feelings of man. The whole of their importance, in^ deed, hinges upon their being a reality; and it is the truth of this reality v>^hich is demonstrated by their holy consistency with the character of their Author, and their sanctifying applicability to the hearts of his creatures. I may observe also, that, in the illustrations which are introduced, I have aimed rather at a broad and general resemblance than at a minute coincidence in all particulars, which is perhaps not at- tainable in any comparison between earthly things and heavenly. 27 I. As it is a matter of the very highest importance in the study of religion, to be fully satisfied that there is a real connec- tion between happiness and the knowledge and love of God, I have commenced these remarks by explaining the nature of this connection. I have here endeavoured to show, that the object of a true religion must be to present to the minds of men such a view of the character of their great Governor, as may not only enable them to comprehend the principles of his govern- ment, but may also attract their affections into a conformity with them. II. I have made some observations on the mode in which natural religion exhi- bits the Divine character, and in which it appeals to the human understanding and feelings. And here I have remarked the great advantage which a general principle of morality possesses in its appeals to minds constituted like ours, when it comes forth to us in the shape of an intelligible and palpable action, beyond what it possesses in its abstract form. / 28 III. I have attempted to show that Chris- tianity possesses this advantage in the high- est degree ; that its facts are nothing more th an the abstract principles of natural re- ligion, embodied in perspicuity and effi- ciency ; and that these facts not only give a lively representation of the perfect cha- racter of God, but also contain in them- selves the strength of the most irresistible moral arguments that one man could ad- dress to another on any humali interests. IV. I have endeavoured to analyse some \ of the causes of the general indifference to ■ or rejection of real Christianity, and to point out the sources of the multiplied mistakes , which are made with regard to its nature. I have here made some observations on the indisposition of the human mind to attend to an argument which opposes any favourite inclination ; on the opposition of Christi- anity to the prevailing current of the hu- man character ; and on the bad effects aris- ing from the common practice of deriving our notions of religion rather from the com- positions of men than from the Bible. In- fidels are not in general acquainted, through 29 the Eible itself, with the system of revela- tion ; and therefore they are inaccessible to that evidence for it v^hich arises out of the discovery that its doctrinal facts all tally exactly with the character which its pre- cepts inculcate. I have here also illustrated this coincidence between the doctrines and the precepts of the Bible in several parti- culars. If the Christian character is the character of true and immortal happiness, the system must be true which necessarily leads to that character. V. I have endeavoured to show the need that men have for some system of spiritual renovation ; and I have inferred from the preceding argument, that no such system could be really efficient, unless it resembled Christianity in its structure and mode of enforcement. VI. I have shown the connexion between the external and internal evidence for re- velation. ON THE INTERNAL EVIDENCE FOR THE TRUTH OF Ketiedeli Eeltgiotu SECTION I. VY HEN it is said that happiness is neces- sarily and exclusively connected with a re- semblance to the Divine character, it is evi- } dent that the word " happiness" must he understood in a restricted sense. It can- not be denied, that many vicious men en- joy much gratification through life ; nor can it even be denied, that this gratifica- tion is derived in a great measure from their very vices. This fact is, no doubt, very perplexing, as every question must be which is connected with the origin of evil.: { But still, it is no more perplexing than the origin of evil, or than the hypothesis that our present life is a state of trial and dis- cipline. Temptation to evil, evidently im- j 32 plies a sense of gratification proceeding from evil ; and evil could not have existed with- out this sense of gratification connected /with it. So, also, this life could not be a state of trial and discipline in good, unless there were some inducement or temptation to evil, — that is, unless there were some sense of gratification attending evil. It pro- bably does not lie within the compass of human faculties to give a completely satis- factory answer to these questions ; whilst yet it may be rationally maintained, that if there is a propriety in this life being a state of discipline, there must also be a pro- priety in sin being connected with a sense of gratification. But then, may not this vicious gratification be extended through eternity, as well as through a year or an hour ? I cannot see any direct impossibility in this supposition, on natural principles ; / and yet I feel that the assertion of it sounds I very much like the contradiction of an in- /tuitive truth. There is a great difference between the happiness enjoyed with the approbation of conscience, and that which is felt without it or against it. When the conscience is % S3 very sensitive, the gratification arising from vice cannot be very great : The natural pro- cess, therefore, by which such gratification is obtained or heightened, is by lulling or deadening the conscience. This is accom- plished by habitually turning the attention from the distinction of good and evil, and directing it to the circumstances which con- stitute vicious gratification. The testimony of conscience is that ver- dict which every man returns for or against himself upon the question, whether his mo- ral character has kept pace with his moral judgment ? This verdict will therefore be, in relation to absolute moral truth, correct or incorrect, in proportion to the degree of illumination possessed by the moral judge- ment ; and the feeling of remorse will be more or less painful, according to the ine- quality which subsists between the judge- ment and the character. When a man, therefore, by dint of perseverance, has brought his judgment down to the level of his character, and has trained his reason to call evil good and good evil, he has gained a victory over conscience, and expelled re- morse. If he could maintain this advan- C2 S4 tage through his whole existence, his con- duct would admit of a most rational justi- fication. But then, his peace is built solely on the darkness of his moral judgment; and therefore, all that is necessary in order to make him miserable, and to stir up a civil war within his breast, would be to throw such a strong and indubious light on the per- fect character of goodness, as might extort from him an acknowledgment of its excel- lency, and force him to contrast with it his own past history and present condition. Whilst his mental eye is held in fascina- tion by this glorious vision, he cannot but feel the anguish of remorse ; he cannot but feel that he is at fearful strife with some mighty and mysterious being, whose power has compelled even his own heart to exe- cute vengeance on him ; nor can he hide from himself the loathsomeness and pollu- tion of that spiritual pestilence, w^hich has poisoned every organ of his moral constitu- tion. He can hope to escape from this wretchedness, only by withdrawing his gaze from the appalling brightness ; and, in this world, such an attempt can generally be made with success. But suppose him to 35 be placed in such circumstances that there should be no retreat — no diversity of ob- jects which might divert or divide his at- tention — and that, wherever he turned, he was met and fairly confronted by this threatening Spirit of Goodness, — it is im- possible that he could have any respite from misery, except in a respite from exist- ence. If this should be the state of things in the next world, we may form some con- ception of the union there between vice and misery. Whilst we stand at a distance from a furnace, the effect of the heat on our bo- dies gives us little uneasiness ; but, as we approach it, the natural opposition mani- fests itself, and the pain is increased by every step that we advance. The compli- 1 cated system of this world's business and \ events, forms, as it were, a veil before our / eyes, and interposes a kind of moral dis- ? tance between us and our God, through ) which the radiance of his character shines ( but indistinctly, so that we can withhold ( our attention from it if we will : The op- - position which exists between his perfectV holmess and our corrupt propensities, does • 36 /not force itself upon us at every step : His I views and purposes may run contrary to ^P ours ; but as they do not often meet us in ( the form of a direct and personal encounter, we contrive to ward off the conviction that we are at hostility with the Lord of the Universe, and think that we may enjoy ourselves in the intervals of these much- dreaded visitations, without feeling the ne- cessity of bringing our habits into a perfect conformity with his. But when death re- moves this veil, by dissolving our connexion with this world and its works, we may be brought into a closer and more perceptible contact with Him who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. In that spiritual world, we may suppose, that each event, even the minutest part of the whole system of go- vernment, will bear such an unequivocal stamp of the Divine character, that an in- telligent being, of opposite views and feel- ings, will at every moment feel itself galled and thwarted and borne down by the direct and overwhelming encounter of this all- pervading and almighty mind. And here it should be remembered, that the Divine government does not, like human authori- Or? ^ ^ 37 VV ^" '■ ^^ ^ ty, skim the surface, nor content itse^vjtt^ an unresisting exterior and professioiT submission; but comes close to the thoughts, and carries its summons to the affections and the will, and penetrates to those re^ cesses of the soul, where, whilst we are in this world, we often take a pride and a plea- sure in fostering the unyielding sentiments of hatred and contempt, even towards that superiority of force which has subdued and fettered and silenced us. The man who believes in revelation, will, of course, receive this view as the truth of God ; and even the unbeliever in revela- tion, if he admits the existence of an al- mighty Being of a perfect moral charac- ter, and if he see no unlikelihood in the supposition that the mixture of good and evil, and the process of moral discipline connected with it, are to cease with this stage of our being, even he cannot but feel that there is a strong probability in favour of such an anticipation. We see, then, how vicious men may be happy to a certain degree in this world, and yet be miserable in the next, without sup- posing any very great alteration in the ge- neral system of God's government, and without taking into account any thing like positive infliction as the cause of their mi- sery. And it may be observed, that this -.^ view gives to vice a form and an extent / and a power very different from what is generally ascribed to it amongst men. We are here conversant chiefly about ex- ternals ; and therefore the name of vice is more commonly applied to external conduct than to internal character. But, in the world of spirits, it is not so. There^ a dis- sonance in principle and object from the Father of Spirits, constitutes vice, and is / identified with unhappiness. So that a man who has here passed a useful and dignified life, upon principles different from those of the Divine character, must, when under the direct action of that character, feel a want of adjustment and an opposition which cannot but mar or exclude happi- ness. Thus, also, the effects of pride, of vanity, or of selfishness, when combined with prudence, may often be most benefi- cial in the world ; and yet, if these prin- ciples are in opposition to God's character, they must disqualify the minds in which S9 they reign for participating in the joys of heaven. The joys of heaven are described in Scripture to consist in a resemblance to God, or in a cheerful and sympathising submission to his will; and as man na- turally follows the impulse of his own pro- pensities, without reference to the will of God, it is evident that a radical change of principle is necessary, in order to capacitate him for that happiness. Tt was to produce this necessary and sa- . lutary change, that the gospel was sent from Heaven. It bears upon it the charac- ter of God. It is not, therefore, to be won- ) dered at, that those whose principles are\ opposed to that character, should also be / opposed to the gospel. Christianity thus ^ anticipates the discoveries of death : It re- moves the veil which hides God from our sight ; it brings the system of the spiritual w^orld to act upon our consciences ; it pre- sents us with a specimen of God's higher and interior government ; it gives us a nearer view of his character in its true pro- portions, and thus marks out to us the points in which we differ from him ; it con- demns with his authority ; it smiles and in- 40 vites with his uncompromising purity. The man who dislikes all this, will reject Chris- tianity, and replace the veil, and endeavour to forget the awful secrets which it conceals; and may perhaps be only at last roused from his delusion, by finding himself face to face before the God whose warnings he had ne- glected, and whose offers of friendship he had disregarded, — offers which, had they been accepted, would have brought his will into concord with that sovereign will which rules the universe, and fitted him to take a joyful and sympathising interest in every part of the Divine administration. Of the attractive and overcoming loveli- ness of the character of God, as revealed in his word, and of the invitations which he makes to sinners, I shall speak afterwards ; but in the mean time, I would draw the at- tention of the reader to the serious consi- deration of the fact, that a dissonance in principle from the Ruler of the universe, cannot but be connected with some degree of unhappiness. Although I believe that few minds will feel much difficulty in ac- quiescing in some measure in the truth of this remark, and although there is no intri- 41 cacy in the reasoning connected with it, yet as distinct conceptions on this suhject are of prime importance in all views of religion, I shall illustrate it by an analogy drawn from the more palpable and better under- stood affairs of this material w^orld, with which we are surrounded. We may find striking examples to this purpose in a pe- riod of English history, w^hich w^as distin- guished above all others for the remark- able contrasts w^hich it exhibited in public sentiment and principle amongst the dif- ferent classes of the nation, and is therefore peculiarly fitted for elucidating the effects produced on happiness, by an opposition in principle between the ruling power and a part of its subjects. It is easy to imagine the stern and com- posed satisfaction with which a thorough partisan of Cromwell would contemplate the rigid and formal solemnity which over- spread the Government and the people of England during the Protectorship. But whence did this satisfaction arise ? Certain- ly from that concord which subsisted be- tween his own habits and those of the ruling power. His views and inclinations coincid- 42 ed at all points with those of the Govern- ment ; and therefore every measure of ad- ministration was a source of gratification to him, because it was in fact an expression of his own will. He was thus in a state of political happiness ; and had there t3een no ihigher government than the Common- ^wealth, through the universe or through I eternity, he must have been perfectly and ^permanently happy/ Now, let us carry for*, ward this same individual to the days of Charles the Second, and place him in the near neighbourhood of that gay and disso- lute court. We can in this situation sup» pose him moving about with a double mea- sure of gloom in his countenance, and with a heart imbittered by the general mirth, and irritated by the continual encounter of character and opinions and habits directly opposed to his own. He retires to a dis- tance from the seat of Government, and endeavours to hide himself from these pain- ful conflicts in the bosom of his family, There the arrangements are all conducted according to his own principles and his own taste ; and he enjoys a tolerable state of happiness, though liable to occasional in- 4 terruptions from public news, from whispers that he is to be apprehended on suspicion of treason, from the intrusion of Govern- ment officers, and from a want of thorough sympathy on political subjects even per- haps in the members of his own domestic circle. All at once, his quiet is destroyed by an order from court to leave his seclu- sion, and reside in the metropolis, that he may be more immediately under the eye of Government. Here again he is brought face to face with all that he hates and des- pises. His aversion is increased by a sense of his inability to resist ; and he learns even to cherish the feeling and habit of misery as the only testimony that his soul is un- subdued. He is politically miserable. I have given this sketch as an illustration of those natural laws which make our happi- ness dependent on our sympathy with a power which overrules us ; and also as an example of the form and the precariousness of that process by which we can in some circumstances contract our horizon, as it were, and shut out from our view those things which give us pain, and withdraw ourselves from the encounter of those prin- 44 ciples which are in opposition to our own. In the field of this world, there are many divisions and subdivisions, separated by strong barriers from each other, and ac- knowledging different authorities, or the same authority perhaps in different degrees. There are so many shelters to which men may betake themselves, when pursued by the justice or injustice of their fellow-crea- tures. But w^iilst we continue within the scope of one authority, although we may find a temporary asylum against its enmity in a narrower circle or more private society, we are continually liable to be confronted by it, and dragged from our hiding-place ; and must therefore, from the nature of things, be in some measure dependent on it for our happiness. Whenever the material world and its concerns are made use of to illustrate the concerns of the mind and of the invisible world, it is of great importance to preserve in lively recollection the essential difference which separates the two subjects. The one embraces outward actions exclusively ; whilst the prominent feature in the other is the principle from which the actions spring. 45 Thus, in the example which has just been given, we can easily suppose that Crom- well's followers were actuated by a great variety of motives, and that the solemnity of the Commonwealth might captivate dif- ferent minds on very different principles. Some pious people might have liked it, from having associated it in their minds with true religion ; some from the fanatical idea, that this outward form would atone for more secret sins ; some, from its mix- ture with republican sturdiness ; and some, from a hatred of Popery or of the Stuart family. Now, these .principles are all very different in their nature, although their ex- ternal results might in some particulars re- semble each other ; and therefore the hap- piness of the citizens did not proceed from an actual sympathy of pinnciple with the Government, \)\3Xfrom a coincidence in the effects of their principles : And if the Go- vernment had had cognizance and control of the mind as well as the body, then those alone could have been happy, or could have been considered as good citizens, who liked that solemn system of things precisely on the same principles with the Government ; 46 and the collision of opposite principle would in this case have been as violent as the col- lision of external conduct actually was* In morals, an action does not mean an effect simply, but a principle carried into exercise; and therefore, in a government of minds, any effect produced by pride, for instance, however beneficial to the public, would get the name of a proud action, and would be condemned by a judge who disapproved of pride. Man cannot see into the heart ; and therefore he is obliged to conjecture or guess at principles by their effects ; but yet his judgment is always determined by the nature of the principle to which he ascribes the effects. Supposing^ then, that we were under such a supernaturally gifted govern- ment, and that this government was so strong that the idea, of resisting or escaping it involved an absurdity,— it would evident- ly become a matter of the very highest im- portance, to make ourselves accurately ac^ quainted with its principles, and to accom- modate our own to them ; because, till this were accomplished, we could never enjoy tranquillity, but must continually suffer the uneasiness of being reluctantly borne down 47 by the current of a will more powerful than our own. This object, however, would be attended by considerable difficulty. In the first place, it could not be very easy to dis- cover the precise principles of the adminis- tration : Almost any single act might pro- ceed from a great variety of principles ; and it would therefore require a long observa- tion and induction of facts, in order to ar- rive at a satisfactory conclusion. And, in the second place, after we had discovered those principles, we might chance to find that they were in direct opposition to our own. In these circumstances, it would be most ' desirable that the Government should, for the information of the people, embody in ) one interesting train of action the whole of the principles of its Administration ; so that an unequivocal and distinct idea of <; these principles might be conveyed, by the | narrative, to any one who would carefully -'] consider its purport. After Government i had done this, it would evidently be the interest and the duty of all the subjects to dwell much upon the history thus commu- nicated to them, in order that they might 48 in this way familiarize their minds to the principles developed in it, and teach their own thoughts to run in the same channel, and interest their affections and feelings in it as much as possible. The people would engage in this with greater or less earnest- ness, according to the strength or weakness of the conviction which each one had as to the reality of the connexion which subsist- ed between happiness and the accomplish- ment of this object, and also in proportion to their persuasion that this history was a true representation of the character of the Government. Approbation and affection could alone constitute the necessary adjust- ment : Fear might urge to the prosecution of the object, but the complete harmony of the will is the result of a more generous principle. If we suppose, farther, that this complete harmony of sentiment is one of the great objects of Government, then a coincidence on the part of the subjects, un- less connected with a distinct intention to coincide, could not contain in itself the ele- ments of a complete harmony, because it did not embrace this great object of the Go- vernment. 49 SECTION II. I HAVE made these remarks for the purpose of illustrating the object of the Christian revelation, and of explaining the necessity of believing its announcement, in order to the full accomplishment of that object in each individual case. The object of Chris- tianity is to bring the character of mail into harmony with that of God. To this end, it is evidently necessary that a just idea of the Divine character should be } formed, the works of creation, the ar- rangements of providence, and the testi^ mony of conscience, are, if thoroughly 'Weighed, sufficient to give this idea : But men are in general so much occupied by the works, that they forget their great Au- thor ; and their characters are so opposed to his, that they turn away their eyes from the contemplation of that purity which con- demns them. And even in the most fa- vourable cases, the moral efficiency of the i 50 idea presented by these natural lights, is much hindered and weakened by the ab- stractness and Vagueness of its form. ^ When we look into creation or provi- f, dence, for the indications of God's charac- y ter, we are struck with the mixture of ap- \ pearances which present themselves. We I see on one side^ life, health, happiness 5 and on the other, death, disease, pain, misery. The first class furnishes us with arguments for the goodness of God ; but what are we to make of the opposite facts ? The theory on this subject which is attended with fewest difficulties, is founded on two sup- positions, — firgt, That moral good is neces- sary to permanent happiness ; and second, That misery is the result of moral evil, and w^as appointed by the Author of Nature as its check and punishment. This theory throws some light on the character both of God and of man. It represents God not merely as generally solicitous for the hap- piness of men, but as solicitous to lead them to happiness through the medium of a cer- tain moral character, which is the object of his exclusive approbation ; and it represents man as very sinful, by holding forth the mass of natural evil in the world as a sort of measure of his moral deficiency ; and suggests that the disease must be indeed virulent) when so strong a medicine is ne- cessary. The fact, however, that the great- est natural evil does not always fall where moral evil is most conspicuous, whilst it gives rise to the idea of a future state, does nevertheless obscure, in some degree, our ideas of the Divine character. Our notion of the goodness of God, according to na-^ tural religion, does not then arise so much from the knowledge of any one distinct un- \ equivocal manifestation of that quality, as ■ from a general comparison of many facts, which, when combined, lead to this conclu- , sion. This remark applies also to our no- j tion of the Divine holiness, or God's ex- f elusive approbation of one particular cha- racter ; though not to the same extent, — j because conscience comes much more di- rectly to the point here than reason does ' in the other case. The excitements and motives arising out of such a comparison a^has been described, cannot be nearly so vivid or influential as those which spring from the belief of a simple and unequivo- 52 cal fact which recurs to us without effort, and unfolds its instruction without obscuri- ty, and which holds out to us an unvarying standard, by which we may at all times judge of the thoughts and intentions of God in his dealings with men. Natural theology, therefore, becomes almost neces- ] sarily rather a subject of metaphysical spe- \ culation than a system of practical prin- / ciples. It marks the distinctions of right and wrong ; but it does not efficiently at- tach our love to what is right, nor our ab- horrence to what is wrong. We may fre- quently observe real serious devotedness, even amongst the professors of the most absurd superstitions ; but it would be diffi- cult to find a devoted natural religionist. The reason is, that these superstitions, though they have no relation to the true character of God, have yet some applicabi- lity to the natural constitution of man. Natural religion possesses the former qua- lification in much greater perfection than the latter. Under an impression of guilt, a man who has no other religious know- ledge than that which unassisted reason af- fords, must feel much perplexity and em- 53 barrassment. He believes that God is gra- cious ; but the wounds which he feels in his o\^Ti conscience, and the misery w^hich he sees around him, demonstrate also that God is of a most uncompromising purity. He knows not what to think ; and he is tempt- ed either to despair, or to turn his thoughts away entirely from so alarming a subject. All these conditions of mind — despair, thoughtlessness, and perplexity — are equal- ly adverse to the moral health of the soul, and are equally opposed to that zealous and cheerful obedience which springs from gra- titude for mercy, and esteem for holy and generous worth. In such circumstances, v the mind would naturally, in self-defence, J contrive to lower its standard of moral duty \ down to the level of its o\vti performances ; ' or would settle into a gloomy hostility to a lawgiver who requires more from it than it is disposed to render. It is in this form of weakness and perversion that we gene- rally see natural religion ; and we need not . wonder at this melancholy phenomenon, ( when we consider that its principles con- sist in abstract conclusions of the intellect, which make no powerful appeal to the heart. ] 54 .n A single definite and intelligible action / gives a vividness and power to the idea of ) that moral character which it exhibits, be- / yond what could be conveyed by a multi- \ tude of abstract descriptions. Thus the ab- stract ideas of patriotism and integrity make but an uninteresting appearance, when con- trasted with the high spectacle of heroic worth which was exhibited in the conduct of Regulus, when, in the senate of his country, he raised his solitary voice against those humbling propositions of Carthage, which, if acquiesced in, would have restored him to liberty, and which, for that single reason, had almost gained an acquiescence ; and then, unsubdued alike by the frantic entreaties of his family, the weeping soli- citations of the admiring citizens, and the appalling terrors of his threatened fate, he returned to Africa, rather than violate his duty to Rome and the sacredness of truth. In the same way, the abstract views of the Divine character, drawn from the ob- servation of nature, are in general rather visions of the intellect than efficient moral principles in the heart and conduct ; and however true they may be, are uninterest- 55 ing and unexciting, when compared with the vivid exhibition of them in a history of definite and intelUgible action. To assist our weakness, therefore, and to x accommodate his instructions to the prin- / ciples of our nature, God has been pleased ) to present to us a most interesting series of ( actions, in which his moral character, as far ) as we are concerned, is fully and perspicu- | ously embodied. In this narration, the most / condescending and affecting and entreating kindness, is so w^onderfully combined with the most spotless holiness, and the natural • appeals which emanate from every part of it, to our esteem, our gratitude, our shame, and our interest, are so urgent and constrain . ing, that he who carries about with him the conviction of the truth and reality of this history, possesses in it a principle of mighty efficiency, which must subdue and harmonize his mind to the will of that Great Being whose character is there de- picted. The delineation of the character of an \ overruling authority, whatever that charac- / ter may be, makes a strong appeal to the \ subjects, on the score of their interest I It 56 calls upon them, as they value their happi- ness, to bring their own views into confor- mity with it. The appeal becomes more / forcible and effectual, if the character which they are thus called on to contemplate be > such a one as would naturally excite esteem and affection in an uninterested observer. / But the weight of the appeal is infinitely increased, when this powerful and amiable '^ Being is represented to them in the atti- tude of a benefactor, exerting this power and putting forth this character on their own peculiar behalf. It is thus that the character of God is represented in the New Testament ; and it is on these grounds that we are called on ] to love, to obey, and to imitate him. If God's character be in fact such as is there described, then those who reject the history in which this character is developed, shut themselves out from the opportunity of fa- miliarizing their minds to the Divine go- vernment, and of bringing their affections and their views to harmonize with it. There is a divine beauty and wisdom in the form in which God has chosen to com- municate the knowledge of his character. 57 which, when duly considered, can scarcely fail of exciting gratitude and admiration. T he obje ct of the gospel is to bring man into harmony with God : the subject of its operations, therefore, is the human heart TEfall its various conditions. It addresses the learned and the unlearned, the savage and the civilized, the decent and the pro- fligate ; and to all it speaks precisely the same language. What then is this univer- sal language ? It cannot be the language of metaphysical discussion, or what is call- ed abstract moral reasoning ; for this could be intelligible to few, and it could influence the characters of fewer. The principles which it addresses ought evidently to be such as are in a great measure independent of the extremes of cultivation and barbar- ism ; and, in point of fact, they are so. They are indeed the very principles which Mr Hume designates to be, " a species of natural instincts, which no reasoning or process of the thought or understanding is able either to produce or to prevent." (In- quiry into Human Understanding, sect. v. part 1.) Its argument consists in a relation of facts : If these are really believed, the D2 58 '^effect on the character necessarily follows. It presents a history of wondrous love, in order to excite gratitude ; of high and holy worth, to attract veneration and esteem: It presents a view of danger, to produce alarm ; of refuge, to confer peace and joy ; and of eternal glory, to animate hope. 59 SECTION III. The reasonableness of a religion seems tc^ me to consist in there being a direct and / natural connexion between a believing the ) doctrines which it inculcates, and a being \ formed by these to the character whicl^ it 1 recommends. If the belief of the doctrines \ has no tendency to train the disciple in a more exact and more willing discharge of , its moral obligations, there is evidently a ( very strong probability against the truth / of that r^igion. In other words, the doc- ^/y^rines^ought to tally with the precepts, and to contain in their very substance some ur- gent motives for the performance of them ; because, if they are not of this description, they are of no use. What is the history of another world to me, unless it have some intelligible relation to my duties or happi- ness ? If we apply this standard to the va- rious religrons which different nations have framed for themselves, we shall find very 60 little matter for approbation, and a great deal for pity and astonishment. The very- states which have chiefly excelled in arts and literature and civil government, have failed here most lamentably. Their moral precepts might be very good ; but then these precepts had as much connexion with the history of astronomy as with the doc- \ trines of their religion. Which of the ad- I ventures of Jupiter or Brama or Osiris i could be urged as a powerful motive to / excite a high moral feeling, or to produce I a high moral action ? The force of the moral precepts was rather lessened than increased by the facts of their mythology. In the religion of Mahomet there are many ^ excellent precepts ; but it contains no il- ■ lustration of the character of God, which has any particular tendency beyond or even equal to that of natural religion to enforce ^ these precepts. Indeed, one of the most important doctrine:^ which he taught, — viz. a future life beyond the grave, — from the shape which he gave to it, tended to counteract his moral precepts. He descri- bed it as a state of indulgence in sensual gratifications,, which never cloyed the ap- * -,. /^■^'°">>^ ^. ^ 1. -am,--*^^ /iX.-^ A^-*^-**'*^-^ 'f^'^^^^^^'^'T^ 61 petite ; and yet he preached temperance and self-denial. It is evident, that any self-restraint which is produced by the be- lief of this doctrine, must be merely ex- ternal ; for the real principle of temper- ance could not be cherished by the hope of indulgence at a future period. The phi- -. losophical systems of theology are no less / ^ liable to the charge of absurdity than the^ ^ popular superstitions. No one can read/ Cicero's work on the nature of the gods, without acknowledging the justice of the \ Apostle's sentence upon that class of rea- soners, — " professing themselves to be wise, *) they became fools." As the principles and feelings of our na- x^ ture, which are addressed in religion, are precisely the same with those which are , continually exercised in the affairs of this S world, w^e may expect to find a resemblance j between the doctrines of a true religion \ and the means and arguments by which a • virtuous man acquires an influence over the characters and conduct of his fellow- creatures. When a man desires another to do any thing, that is the precept ; when he enforces it by any mode of persuasion, 62 /•that is the doctrine. AVhen the Athe- ) nians were at war with the Heraclidae, it f was declared by the Oracle, that the na- tion whose king died first should be vic- \ torious in the contest. As soon as this was known, Codrus disguised himself, went over to the camp of the enemy, and ex- posed himself there to a quarrel with a soldier, who killed him without knowing who he was. The Athenians sent to de- mand the body of their king ; which so alarmed the Heraclidae, from the recollec- tion of the Oracle, that they fled in disor- der, Now, let us suppose that Codrus wish- ed to inculcate the principle of patriotism in his countrymen. If he had merely is- ^ sued a proclamation, commanding every ci- Itizen to prefer the interest of his country to his own life, he would have been giving them a moral precept, but without a corre- sponding doctrine. If he had joined to this proclamation, the promise of honour and wealth as the rewards of obedience, he would have been adding a very powerful doctrine, yet nevertheless such a doctrine as must have led much more directly to patriotic conduct than to patriotic feeling and prin- Tr-. o^^^ V?' ^■^; ciple. Vanity and avarice, without mtBip- - . tism, might have gained those rewamSh;-,^^^^^^^^^ But if he wished to excite or to cherish ] the principle of patriotism in the hearts of( his people, he chose the most eloquent and prevailing argument, when he sacrificed his \ life for them, and thus attracted their ad- miration and gratitude to that spirit which / animated his breast, and their love to that / country, of which he was at once the re- / presentative and the ransom. It is indeed a striking and yet an unde- / niable fact, that we are comparatively little ' affected by abstract truths in morality. The ^ cry of a child will produce a greater move- } ment, in almost any mind, than twenty ) pages of unanswerable reasoning. An in- / stinctive acquaintance with this fact guides \ us in our dealings with our fellow- creatures; / and He who formed the heart of man, has ' attested his revealed word, by showing his/ acquaintance with the channel through \ which persuasion and instruction might be / most effectually communicated. It may ^ therefore be useful to illustrate, at greater length, the analogy which exists between the persuasions of the gospel, and those 64 which might be fixed on as the most power- ful arguments capable of being addressed to any human feelings on the subject of human interests. Let us, then, present to ourselves a com- pany of men travelling along the sea- shore. One of them, better acquainted with the ground than the rest, warns them of quick- sands, and points out to them a landmark which indicated the position of a danger- ous pass. They, however, see no great rea- son for apprehension ; they are anxious to get forwards, and cannot resolve upon ma- king a considerable circuit in order to a- void what appears to them an imaginary evil ; they reject his counsel, and proceed onwards. In these circumstances, what ar- gument ought he to use ? What mode of persuasion can we imagine fitted to fasten on their minds a strong conviction of the reality of their danger, and the disinter- ested benevolence of their adviser ? His words have been ineffectual ; he must try some other method ; he must act. And he does so ; for, seeing no other way of pre- vailing on them, he desires them to wait only a single moment, till they see the 65 truth of his warning confirmed by his fate. He goes before them ; he puts his foot on the seemingly firm sand, and sinks to death. This eloquence is irresistible : He was the most active and vigorous amongst them ; if any one could have extricated himself from the difficulty, it was he ; they are persuaded ; they make the necessary cir- cuit, bitterly accusing themselves of the death of their generous companion ; and during their progress, as often as these landmarks occur, his nobleness and their own danger rise to their minds, and secure their safety. Rashness is now not peri- lous merely, — it is ungrateful; it is ma- king void the death of their deliverer. To walk without God in the world, is to walk in sin ; and sin is the way of dan- ger. Men had been told this by their own consciences, and they had even partially and occasionally believed it ; but still they walked on. Common arguments had fail- ed ; the manifestations of the Divine cha- racter in creation and providence, and the testimony of conscience, had been in a great measure disregarded : It thus seemed ne- cessary, that a stronger appeal should be 66 made to their understanding and their feel- ings. The danger of sin must be more strikingly and unequivocally demonstrated ; and the alarm excited by this demonstra- tion must be connected with a more kind- ly and generous principle, which may bind their affections to that God from whom they have wandered. But how is this to be done ? What more prevailing appeal can be made ? Must the Almighty Warner demonstrate the evil of sin, by undergoing its effects ? Must he prove the danger of sin, by exhibiting himself as a sufferer un- der its consequences ? Must he who knew no sin suffer as a sinner, that he might persuade men that sin is indeed an evil ? — - It was even so. God became man, and dwelt amongst us. He himself encounter* ed the terrors of guilt, and bore its punish- ment ; and called on his careless creatures to consider and understand the evil of sin, by contemplating even its undeserved ef- fects on a being of perfect purity, who was over all, God blessed for ever. Could they hope to sustain that weight which had crushed the Son of God ? Could they rush into that guilt and that danger against ^^^^ not according to their own intriilM j^ue. ' '^ Our apprehension of abstract truths ^k^lifUM''' rality is so vague, that they hardly operate ^ on our characters at all. Does it not, then, approach almost to a demonstration, that if God really intended to improve the happi- \ ness and characters of men, by instructing them in the excellence of his own charac- \ ter, he would communicate this instruction, / not in the form of abstract propositions and \ general terms, which are, by the construe- | tion of the human mind, incapable of pro- | ducing any real and lasting effect upon us, but by that way which coincides with our faculties of apprehension, — that is, by the / way of living and palpable actions, which ) may add the weight and distinctness of ) their own substance to those truths which ( they are intended to develop ? That men ) stand in need of such an improvement, is certain ; that a gracious Being should in- tend it, is surely not improbable ; and if he had such an intention, that some such scheme as Christianity should have been adopted, seems necessary to its success. At first sight, it may seem strange that a system evidently flowing from so much 84 goodness, tending to so much happiness, and constructed with so much wisdom, should in general be either rejected, or ad- mitted with an inattentive and therefore useless assent : But there are circumstances in the case which abundantly account for this. The Great Author of Christianity anticipated this rejection, and forewarned his disciples of it. His knowledge of the heart of man made him well acquainted with many causes which would operate against the reception of his doctrine. When Agis attempted to regenerate the diseased government of Sparta, he stirred up and armed against himself all the abuses and corruptions of the state. It would have been strange if this had not happened ; and it would also be strange, if a doctrine which tends to regenerate human nature, and to eradicate the deep-seated and yet favourite diseases of the heart, should not arm against itself all those moral evils which it threatens to destroy. A man finds no difficulty in giving his acquiescence to any proposition which does not carry along with it an obligation on him to something which he dislikes. The 85 great bulk of the population of this coun- try, for instance, acquiesce in the Coperni- can system of astronomy, although they may possess little or no knowledge of the mathematical or physical truths on which this system is reared. But let us make the supposition for a moment, that an acquies- cence in this theory somehow or other in- volved in it a moral obligation on every be- liever of it to %ftlkHg4)U¥id the wa^y , we can- not doubt but that the party of Ptolemy, or some other less imperious philosopher, would, in these circumstances, very soon carry almost every voice. The religion of Jesus Christ involves in it a great variety of obligations ; and it was \ indeed principally for the purpose of eluci- / dating and enforcing these obligations, that God was pleased to make it known to man- | kind. And many of these obligations are 's so distasteful to the natural selfishness or , indolence of our hearts, that we feel unwil- f ling to embrace a conviction which involves in it so complete a derangement of our [ plans, and a thwarting of our habitual in- \ clinations. Were the beautiful lineaments of the Christian character to be portrayed ( 86 in a theory which should disclaim all in- terference with the consciences and duties of the world, it would infallibly attract much intellectual and sentimental admira- tion : And were the high and holy charac- ter of God, and its universally-pervading influence, to be painted in glowing colours, — and were that unbounded liberty to be described, in which those spirits that are I perfectly conformed to His will, must ex- patiate through all the vastness of creation and eternity, — were all this to be couched \ in the terms of a lofty imagination, without ■ any appeal to the conscience, and without ; attempting to bring in this splendid vision to haunt our hours of carelessness or of crime, — who can doubt that taste, and fancy, and eloquence, would pour in their convert- ed disciples within the engaging circle of such a religion ? And yet we find, that taste, and fancy, and eloquence, and high intellect, and fine sentiment, often reject Christianity : And the reason seems to be, because it is not a science merely, but a practical art, in which every part of know- ledge is connected with a corresponding duty. It does not present to us a beautiful 87 picture merely, — it commands us to copy \ it ; it does not merely hold forth to us the / image of perfect virtue, — ^it declares to us \ also our own guilt, and denounces our condemnation ; it does not merely exhibit to us the sublime idea of a spiritual and j universal sovereign, — it also calls upon us, \ by this very exhibition, under the moist aw- ful sanctions of hope and fear, to humble J ourselves before Him, and to look to Him as the rightful proprietor of our thoughts and words and actions. There is something in all this very harassing and unpleasing to our nature ; and the fact that it is so, may account for the real rejection that it generally meets with even amongst its no- minal friends, and may also operate as a . warning against ascribing too much weight ^ to that contempt or aversion which it some- times receives from those whose talents, when directed to other objects, we have been accustomed to follow with our admira- tion and gratitude. The proud man does not like to give up the triumph of superi- ority ; the vain man does not like to give up the real or fancied applause of the circle in which he moves ; the careless or worldly 88 or sensual man does not like to have himself ( continually watched and scrutinized by a \ witness who never sleeps, and who is of / purer eyes than to behold iniquity. Now, I as great talents are often to be found in \ men of such characters, we need not won- / der that they employ these talents in de- l fending the foundation on which their chief I enjoyment is built, rather than in pursuit of a truth which, they are conscious, would level the whole fabric with the ground. Men do not look very diligently for that . which they would be sorry to find. " It is difficult to persuade a careless pro- fligate to live a life of temperate and use- ful exertion ; because it is difficult to ob- tain from him a candid hearing on the sub- ject. He tliinks exclusively of the grati- fications which he is called upon to re- nounce, and never allows his mind to rest calmly on the motives which would induce him to do so. Whilst he apprehends fully and distinctly the pleasures connected with his own habits, he has a very vague idea of the evils resulting from them, or of the advantages of an opposite course. If the latter apprehension were as vivid as the 89 former, the man's character would change. And there are arguments, and those of a mere worldly nature, which have often pro- duced this effect. All that is necessary to accomplish it, is a candid attention on his part to the whole truth of the case. There is in his mind, indeed, a natural opposi- tion to the argument ; but there is also in the argument a natural destructiveness of his faults ; and if it be vividly apprehend- ed and retained, it will gain the victory, and cast out its enemy. The argument, then, must, in the first place, be a suffi- cient one in itself ; that is to say, it must show, that, in reason, the advantage gain- ed by complying with it exceeds the ad- vantage of rejecting it. And, in the se- cond place, this sufficient argument must be distinctly and fully apprehended. The best argument in the world is of no use, unless it be properly understood, and the motives which it holds forth be vividly ap- prehended. To a mind that does not dis- tinctly comprehend the subject, a good ar- gument will appear bad, and a bad one may appear good. We account, in this way, for the different success which the same argu- 90 ment meets with when it is addressed to a number of individuals. Some are moved by it — others are not ; that is to say, some fully apprehend it — others do not. And this may arise either from their misunder- standing the terms of the argument, or from their unwillingness to admit a prin- ciple which interferes with their own incli- nations. Thus it fares often with human argu- ments ; nor do the arguments of God escape a similar fate. We have already seen how the spirituality of the Christian require- ments naturally excites an unwillingness to admit its principles. This unwilling- ness can only be overcome by a full view of its glorious inducements. But, unfor- tunately, this view is often intercepted and obscured by various causes, and by none more than the usual way in which religion is studied. Most people in this country, and pro- bably even the majority of the population in Europe, think that they understand Christianity ; and yet a very small pro- L portion of them have read the Bible with that degree of ordinary attention which 91 they bestow on the common concerns of life. Their ideas on this subject are deriv- ed almost entirely from creeds and church articles, or human compositions of some kind. The evil consequences arising from this are most grievous. To convince our- selves that they are indeed so to a high degree, we have only to compare the two methods. In the Bible, we uniformly find the doc- trines — even those that are generally con- sidered most abstruse — pressed upon us as demonstrations or evidences of some im- portant moral feature of the Divine mind, and as motives tending to produce in us some corresponding disposition in relation to God or man. This is perfectly reason- able. Our characters cannot but be in some degree affected, by what we believe to be the conduct and the will of the Al- mighty towards ourselves and the rest of our species. The history of this conduct, and this will, constitutes what are called the Christian doctrines. If, then, the dis- position, or character which we are urged to acquire, recommend itself to our reasons and consciences as right and agreeable to 921 the will of God, we cannot but approve that precept as morally true ; and if the doctrine by which it is enforced carries in it a distinct and natural tendency to pro- 'duce this disposition or character, then we feel ourselves compelled to admit that there is at least a moral truth in this doctrine. And if we find that the doctrine has not only this purely moral tendency, but that it is also most singularly adapted to assert and acquire a powerful influence over those principles in our nature to which it directs its appeal, then we must also pronounce that there is a natural truth in the doc- trine,-^or, in other words, that however contradictory it may be to human practice, it has however a natural consistency with the regulating principles of the human mind. And farther, if the doctrine be not only true in morals and in its natural adap- tation to the mind of man, but if the fact which it records coincides also and harmo- nizes with that general idea of the Divine character which reason forms from the sug- gestions of conscience, and from an obser- vation of the works and ways of God in the external world, then we are bound to 93 acknowledge that this doctrine appears to be true in its relation to God. In the Bible, the Christian doctrines are always stated in this connexion : They stand as indications of the character of God, and as / the exciting motives of a corresponding ) character in man. Forming thus the con- necting link between the character of the Creator and the creature, they possess a majesty which it is impossible to despise, and exhibit a form of consistency and truth which it is difficult to disbelieve. Such is Christianity in the Bible; but in creeds and church articles it is far otherwise.^ These tests and summaries originated from / the introduction of doctrinal errors and ; metaphysical speculations into religion ; and, in consequence of this, they are not so much intended to be the repositories of / truth, as barriers against the encroachment \ of erroneous opinions. The doctrines con- tained in them therefore are not stated with any reference to their great object in the Bible, — the regeneration of the human heart, by the knowledge of the Divine cha- racter. They appear as detached proposi- tions, indicating no moral cause, and point- i 94 ing to no moral effect. They do not look to God, on the one hand, as their source ; nor to man, on the other, as the object of their moral urgency. They appear like links severed from the chain to which they belonged ; and thus they lose all that evi- dence which arises from their consistency, and all that dignity which is connected with their high design. I do not talk of the propriety or impropriety of having church articles, but of the evils which spring from receiving impressions of religion exclusive- ly or chiefly from this source. I may instance the ordinary statement of the doctrine of the Trinity, as an illus- tration of what I mean. It seems diffi- cult to conceive that any man should read through the New Testament candidly and attentively, without being convinced that this doctrine is essential to and implied in every part of the system : But it is not so difficult to conceive, that although his mind is perfectly satisfied on this point, he may yet, if his religious knowledge is exclusive- ly derived from the Bible, feel a little sur- prised and staggered, when he for the first time reads the terms in which it is announ- 95 ced in the articles and confessions of all Protestant churches. In these summaries, the doctrine in question is stated by itself, divested of all its scriptural accompani- ments ; and is made to bear simply on the nature of the Divine essence, and the mys- terious fact of the existence of Three in One. It is evident that this fact, taken by itself, cannot in the smallest degree tend to develop the Divine character, and there- fore cannot make any moral impression on our minds. In the Bible, it assumes quite a diffe- rent shape ; it is there subservient to the manifestation of the moral character of God. The doctrine of God's combined justice and mercy in the redemption of sin- ners, and of his continued spiritual watch- fulness over the progress of truth through the world, and in each particular heart, could not have been communicated with- out it, so as to have been distinctly and vividly apprehended ; but it is never men- tioned except in connexion with these ob- jects ; nor is it ever taught as a separate subject of belief. There is a great and im- portant difference between these two modes 96 of statement. In the first, the doctrine stands as an isolated fact of a strange and unintelligible nature, and is apt even to suggest the idea that Christianity holds out a premium for believing improbabili- ties. In the other, it stands indissolubly united with an act of Divine holiness and compassion, which radiates to the heart an appeal of tenderness most intelligible in its nature and object, and most constraining in its influence. / The abstract fact that there is a plura- lity in the unity of the Godhead, really makes no address either to our understand- ings, or our feehngs, or our consciences. But the obscurity of the doctrine, as far as moral purposes are concerned, is dispelled, when it comes in such a form as this, — " God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believ- eth in him might not perish, but have ever- lasting life." Or this, — " But the Com- forter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the I Father will send in my name, he shall ^ teach you all things." Our metaphysical \ ignorance of the Divine essence is not in- (^deed in the slightest degree removed by 97 this mode of stating the subject; but our _5 moral ignorance of the Divine character is ""enlightened ; and that is the thing with '^hich we have to do. We love or hate our fellow-creatures — we are attracted to or re- pelled from them — in consequence of our ) acquaintance with their moral characters ; and we do not find ourselves barred from the exercise of these feehngs, because the anatomical structure of their frames is un- known to us, or because the mysterious link which binds the soul to the body has baffled all investigation. The knowledge ^ jcommunicated by revelation is a moral ( knowledge, and it has been communicated ^ in order to produce a moral effect upon our ; characters ; and a knowledge of the Divine ) essence would have as little bearing upon \ this object, as far as we can see, as a know- ^ ledge of the elementary essence of matter. I shall give one example more of ihejC^, mode in which the truth of God has been perverted by passing through the hands of men. The doctrine of the atonement through Jesus Christ, which is the corner- /f^ stone of Christianity, and to which all the other doctrines of revelation are subservient, 98 has had to encounter the misapprehension of the understanding as well as the pride of the heart. This pride is natural to man, and can only be overcome by the power of the truth ; but the misapprehension might be removed by the simple process of read- ing the Bible with attention ; because it has arisen from neglecting the record it- self, and taking our information from the discourses or the systems of men who have engrafted the metaphysical subtilties of the schools upon the unperplexed statement of the word of God. In order to understand / the facts of revelation, we must form a sys- ' tem to ourselves ; but if any subtilty, of which the application is unintelligible to common sense, or uninfluential on conduct, enters into our system, we may be sure that it is a wrong one. The common-sense sys- tem of a religion consists in two connexions, — first, the connexion between the doctrines / and the character of God which they exhi- \ bit ; and secondly, the connexion between these same doctrines and the character which they are intended to impress on the / mind of man. When, therefore, we are considering a religious doctrine, our ques- 99 tions ought to be, first. What view does ) this doctrine give of the character of God, in relation to sinners ? And secondly. What \ influence is the belief of it calculated to ( exercise on the character of man ? Though / I state the questions separately, my obser- vations on them cannot properly be kept entirely distinct. The first' of these ques- tions leads us to consider the atonement as an act necessarily resulting from and simply developing principles in the Divine mind, altogether independent of its effects on the hearts of those who are interested in it. The second leads us to consider the adap- tation of the history of the atonement, when believed, to the moral wants and capacities of the human mind. This last considera- tion really embraces the former ; because it is only by the impressions produced on our minds by any being whatever, that we can judge of the qualities of that being. And i the impressions produced by the atonement > are referable to its adaptation to the human ^ mind. There is something very striking and wonderful in this adaptation ; and the deeper we search into it, the stronger rea- sons shall we discover for admiration and gratitude, and the more thoroughly shall we iOO be convinced that it is not a lucky coinci- dence, nor an adjustment contrived by the precarious and temporizing wisdom of this world, but that it is stamped w^ith the un- counterfeited seal of the universal Ruler, and carries on it the traces of that same mighty will, which has connected the sun with his planetary train, and fixed the great relations in nature, appointing to each atom its bound that it cannot pass. Yet it must be remembered that this adaptation is only an evidence for the truth of the gospel, but that it does not constitute the gospel. The gos- pel consists in the proclamation of mercy through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. This is the only true source of sanctity and peace and bope, — and if, instead of drinking from this fountain, we busy ourselves in tracing the course of the streams that flow from it, and in admiring the beauty and fertility of the country through which they run, we may indeed have a tasteful and sentimental re- lish for the organization of Christianity, but it will not be in us a well of water spring- ing up into everlasting life. Before we ad- ) mit the truth of a doctrine like the atone- \ ment, it is proper to contemplate it in all '\ its consequences ; but after we have admit- 101 ted it, we ought to give the first place in our thoughts to the doctrine itself, because our minds are usefully operated on, not by ) the thought of the consequences, but by (^ the contemplation of the doctrine. When ( an act of kindness has been done to us, our / gratitude is excited by contemplating the ) kindness itself, not by investigating that ( law in our nature by which gratitude na- / turally is produced by kindness. It is of / great importance to remember this. We do not and cannot become Christians by think- ing of the Christian character, nor even by thinking of the adaptation of the Christian doctrines to produce that character, but by having our hearts impressed and imbued by the doctrines themselves. The doctrines are constituent parts of God's character and ; government, and they are revealed to us) that we may be renewed in the spirit of our minds by the knowledge of them. The doctrine of the atonement is the great subject of revelation. God is repre- sented as delighting in it, as being glori- fied by it, and as being most fully mani- fested by it. All the other doctrines ra- diate from this as their centre. In sub- ; servience to it, the distinction in the unity ' 102 / of the Godhead has been fevealed. It is \ described as the everlasting theme of praise '. and song amongst the blessed who surround ( the throne of God. It is represented in ) language suitable to our capacities, as call- ( ing forth all the energies of omnipotence. ^ And indeed when we come to consider what this great work was, we shall not wonder that even the inspired heralds of salvation faultered in the utterance of it. The human race had fallen off from their allegiance, they had turned away from God, their hearts chose what God abhorred, and despised what God honoured : They were the enemies of God, they had broken his law, which their own consciences acknow- ledged to be holy, just, and gracious, and had thus most righteously incurred the pe- nalty denounced against sin. Man had thus ruined himself, and the faithfulness of God seemed bound to make this ruin irretrievable. The design of the atonement was to make mercy towards this offcast race con- sistent with the honour and the holiness of the Divine government. To accomplish this gracious purpose, the Eternal Word, who was God, took on himself the nature of man. and as the elder brother and represfe^jJb^ire and champion of the guilty family, h^i;^ lemnly acknowledged the justice of the sentence pronounced against sin, and sub- mitted himself to its full weight of wo, in the stead of his adopted kindred. God's justice found rest here ; his law was mag- nified and made honourable. The human nature of the Saviour^ave him a brother's*^ right and interest in the human race, whilst his divine nature made his sacrifice avail- able, and invested the law, under which he had bowed himself, with a glory beyond what could have accrued to it from the pe- nal extinction of a universe. The two books of the Bible in which this subject is most minutely and methodically argued, viz. the epistles to the Romans and the Hebrews, commence with asserting most emphatical- ly both the perfect divinity and the perfect humanity of Jesus Christ. On this basis the reasoning is founded which demon- strates the universal sufficiency and the suitableness of the death of Christ as an atonement for the sins of men, or as a vin- dication of the justice of the Divine go- vernment in dispensing mercy to the guilty. What a wonderful and awful and enliven- 104 ing subject of contemplation this is ! God so loved the world that he gave his qnly-be- gcJtten Son^ that whosoever believeth on him might hot perish, but have everlasting life. And the same God, that he might declare his abhorrence of sin in. the very form and substance of his plan of mercy, sent forth this Son to make a propitiation through his hloocl. This is the God with whom we have to do. This is his character, the Just God and yet the Saviour. There is an august- ness and a tenderness about this act, a depth and heighth and breadth and length of mo- ral worth and sanctity, which defies equally\^ the full grasp of thought and of language ; but we can understand something of it, and therefore has it been revealed to us. But does it not mark in most fearful contrast, the difference which exists between the mind of God and the mintL^of man ?^ Whilst man is making a mock at smiy'G^l descends from the throne of glory, and takes on him the frailty of a creature, and dies as a creature the representative of sinners, before his holy nature can pronounce sin forgiven. It was to remove this difference that these glad-tidings have been preach- ed ; and he that believes this history of \ 105 God, shall be like him, for in it he sees God as he is. In this wonderful transac- tion, mercy and truth meet together, righ- teousness and peace embrace each other. It was planned and executed, in order that God might be just whilst he justified the believer in Jesus. It proclaims glory to God in the highest, peace on earth and good- will to man. The new and divinely constituted Head of the human family has been raised from the dead, his sacrifice has been judicially accepted, and he has been crowned with immortality in his represen- tative character. This is the foundation on which sinners are invited to rest the interests of their souls for eternity. It is ^h^ld up for their most scrutinizing inspec- tion, and they are urged to draw near and examine^ whether it be sufficient to bear their weight. They are asked, as it were, if they can discover a flaw in the fulness and sincerity^ ailil efficiency of that love which could promp^Gotf to veil his majes- ty, and ally himself with our polluted race ; and assume an elder brother's interest in our welfare, and magnify the law which we had broken, by suffering its penalty in our F2 106 room, and thus connect the Divine glory with the salvation of sinners. They are assured on the authority of God, that the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin, and that there is no condemnation to those who believe on him. They have thus the de- claration of God, and the act of God, still more impressive and persuasive than his declaration, to engage their confidence, and to banish all doubts and suspicions from their breasts. As the Saviour expired on the cross, he said, " It is finished." The work of expiation was then accomplished: and the history of that work comes forth In the form of a general address to the sons of men, " Return unto me, for I have re- deemed you ;" " Be ye reconciled to God." This is the fountain of the river of life, and over it are these words written, " Ho, every one that thirsteth come ye to the waters." It proclaims pardon for sin ; it is therefore quite suited for sinners. Jesus came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repent- ance ; he came to seek and to save that which was lost. He said this himself, and he said it whilst every possible variety and aggravation of guilt stood full in the view 107 of his omniscience. He said it whilst he was contemplating that cup of bitterness and amazement and death which he had engaged to drink, and which was mixed for him to this very end, that the chief of sin- ners might be welcomed to the water of life. What is that weight of guilt which can ex- clude from mercy ? The very thought is de- grading to the dignity of the sacrifice, and injurious to the holy love which appointed it, and to the unstained truth which has pronounced its all -sufficiency. Can we won- der, then, at the high-toned triumph which filled the soul of the Apostle Paul as he gazed on this glorious object, and saw in it the pledge that his sins, which were many, were forgiven him, and that the heart of his often outraged Master yearned upon him, and that his own lot for eternity was bound up with the glorious eternity of his God ? " Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect ? It is God that jus- tifieth, who is he that condemneth ? It is Christ that died, yea, rather that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us." But if the virtue and sufficiency of the 108 atonement be thus universal, why are not the benefits of it universally enjoyed ? Had the mere removal of an impending penalty, in consistency with justice, constituted the whole and the ultimate object of God in this great work, there would probably have been no difference nor individual peculiarity with respect to these benefits, nor should we have had such admonitions addressed to us as the following : " Many are called, but few are chosen ;" " work out your own sal- vation with fear and trembling ;" " do all diligence to make your calling and election sure." But Christ gave himself for us, not only to redeem us from the punishment due to iniquity, but also that he might pu- rify to himself a peculiar people zealous of good works. The subjects of his kingdom were to be those in whose hearts the truth dwelt, the great truth relating to the cha- racter of God. This truth was developed and exhibited in the atonement, — its bright rays were concentrated there ; and there- fore the intelligent belief of the atonement, was the most proper channel through which this divine light might enter the soul of man. It is this light alone which can chase 109 away the shades of moral darkness, and re- store life and spiritual vigour to the numbed and bewildered faculties. And therefore the benefits of the atonement are connected with a belief of the atonement. " He that believeth shall be saved : he that believeth not shall be condemned." When the iden- tity of unhappiness and moral darkness in an intelligent subject of God's government is fully understood, this connexion between belief and salvation, will appear to be not the appointment of a new enactment, but merely the renewed declaration of an esta- blished and necessary constitution. The truth concerning God's character is an im- mortal and glorious principle, developed and laid up in Jesus Christ ; and God imparts its immortality and glory to the spirits in which it dwells. This truth cannot dwell in us, except in so far as the work of Christ remains as a reality in our minds. We cannot enjoy the spiritual life and peace of the atonement, separated from the be- lieving remembrance of the atonement, as we cannot enjoy the light of the sun se- parated from the presence of the sun. It would be a foolish madness to think of 110 locking in the light by shutting our case- ments ; and it is no less foolish to dream of appropriating the peace of the gospel, whilst the great truth of the gospel is not in the eye of faith. In the Epistle to the Galatians, Vth. 25th, StPaul says,if ye have your life from the gospel, (here called the Spirit), see that you walk in, i. e. keep close to, the gospel. When our hearts stray from the truth, we stray from that life which is contained in the truth. We cannot long continue or retain any moral impression on our minds separate from the object which is fitted to produce the im- pression. The man who sees in the atonement, a deliverance from ruin, and a pledge of im- mortal bliss, will rejoice in it, and in all the principles which it develops. " Let not the wise man," says the prophet, " glo- ry or rejoice in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man rejoice in his might, let not the rich man rejoice in his riches ; but let him that rejoiceth, rejoice in this, that he understandeth and knoweth me, that I am the Lord which exercise loving kindness, judgment, and righteousness in the earth ; Ill for in these things I delight, saith the Lord." He therefore who rejoices in the atonement, rejoices in that which delights the heart of God ; for here have his loving kindness, and his judgment, and his righte- ousness, been most fully and most glori- ously exercised. It is thus that the be- liever has communion with God through Jesus Christ, and it is thus that he be- comes conformed to his moral likeness. The same truth which gives peace, produces al- so holiness. What a view does the cross of Christ give of the depravity of man, and of the guilt of sin ! And must not the abhorrence of it be increased tenfold, by the consideration that it has been commit- ted against the God of all grace and of all consolation ? A sense of our interest would keep us close to that Saviour, in whom our life is treasured up, if we needed such a motive to bind us to a Benefactor who chose to bear the wrath of Omnipotence rather than that we should bear it. Shall we frustrate the designs of love by our own undoing, and trample on that sacred blood which was shed for us ? No ; if we believe in the atonement, we must love him who 11^ made the atonement ; and if we love him, we shall enter into his views, we shall feel for the honour of God, we shall feel for the souls of men, we shall loath sin especially in our own hearts, we shall look forward with an earnestness of expectation to the period when the mystery of God shall be finished, and the spiritual temple comple- ted, and the Redeemer's triumph fulfilled. This hope we have as an anchor of the soul sure and stedfast ; it is fixed within the vail ; it looks to the atonement ; and whatever be the afflictions or the trials of life, it can still rejoice in that voice which whispers from the inner sanctuary, " Be of good cheer, it is I, be not afraid ;" it can still feel the force of that reasoning, " He that spared not his own Son, but gave him up for us all, how shall he not with him freely also give us all things ?" This hope maketh not ashamed, it will not and can- not disappoint, because it is founded on the character of that God who changeth not. It is thus that the faith of the gospel produces that revolution in the mind, which is called in Scripture conversion, or the new. birth. A man naturally trusts to some- 113 thing within himself, to his prudence, or to his good fortune, or to his worth, or to his acquirements, or to what he has done well, or to his unfeigned sorrow for what he has done ill ; self, in one form or other more or less amiable, is the foundation of his hope, and by necessary consequence, self is ever present to his view, and becomes the ultimate object of his conduct, and the director and the former of his character. But when he believes and understands the truth of God as manifested in the atone- ment, to be the only foundation on which he can rest with safety, the only refuge from that ruin into which he has been led by the guidance of self, he will cast from him these perishing and fluctuating delu- sions, and he will repose his interests for time and for eternity on the love of him who bled for him, and on the faithfulness of him who is not a man that he should lie, nor the son of man that he should repent ; and resting thus on the character of God as the exclusive ground of his confidence, he will contemplate it as his ultimate object, he will cleave to it as his counsellor and his guide, and will thus be gradually moulded 114 into its likeness. This foundation of hope continues the same through every stage of the Christian's progress. Though his growth / in personal sanctity he the grand and bless- ed result of his faith, yet that sanctity can I never become the ground of his comfidence \ without throwing him back upon self, and / separating him from God, and cutting off his supply from the living fountain of holi- / ness, and thus unsanctifying him. But al- \ though personal sanctity can never become / the foundation of hope, yet it will much I strengthen our confidence in that founda- ; tion ; just as returning health strengthens ( the confidence of the patient in that medi- ( dne which he feels restoring him. It is a law of our moral constitution, that the foundation of our confidence becomes necessarily the mould of our characters. The principles developed in the atonement, are an assemblage of all that is lovely and noble and admirable in spiritual excellence. He, then, that truly and exclusively rests his hope on the atonement, becomes a par- taker of the character of God. The great ( argument for the truth of Christianity lies ' in the sanctifying influence of its doctrines; 115 and, alas ! the great argument against it,) lies in the unsanctified lives of its profes- 5 sors. A false exhibition of Christianity is / thus more pernicious and more hateful than ( professed infidelity. But false pretences are / not confined to religion ; and that man is indeed a fool who throws away his soul be- cause another man is a hypocrite. The gospel claims and deserves an examination/ on its own merits, and well will it repay ^ the candid examiner. It warns of a dan- < ger, the reality of which is inseparably con- nected with the admitted holiness of God, and the admitted sinfulness of man ; it dis- covers a refuge from this danger, which most beautifully harmonizes with all the Divine perfections ; and when that refuge is narrowly considered, it is found not only to be a place of safety, but to be the en- trance into a holy and blessed and glorious immortality. Like th€==^]«s4»Be,, it in-^^^-i^ vites the weary and heavy laden to its ^J^'^ shelter; but, uaiifee the X^pastree, it dis- i_, ^^'f^ pels their langour, and restores their faint- ing spirits, and gives a new and a vigorous and an enlivening impulse to every organ of their debilitated frames ; its leaves are for 116 the healing of the nations, and its fruit is the bread of life. Let us now return to the questions with which we commenced these observations ; viz. What view does this doctrine give of the character of God? and, What influence is the belief of it fitted to exercise on the character of man? and let us, fromvthe state- ment which has been given, draw out the an- swers. Love surpassing thought is certainly the prominent feature of that glorious char- acter which is exhibited to us in the atone- ment ; — but it is a love in perfect con- sistency with a holiness which cannot look upon iniquity, — it is the love of the al- mighty God, who has not exerted his om- nipotence in silencing or overstepping the claims of justice, but in meeting them and fulfilling them. It is a love — which sits enthroned on that mercy-seat which rests on eternal truth, — and whose very na- ture it is to hate all evil. The effect upon the character of man, produced by the be- lief of it, will be to love Him who first loved us, and to put the fullest confidence in his goodness and willingness to forgive — to as- sociate sin with the ideas both of the deepest 117 misery and the basest ingratitude — to ad- mire the unsearchable wisdom and the high principle which have combined the fullest mercy with the most uncompromising jus- tice — and to love all our fellow- creatures from the consideration that our common Fa- ther has taken such an interest in their wel- fare, and from the thought, that as we have been all shipwrecked in the same sea by the same wide- wasting tempest, so we are all in- vited by the same gracious voice to take re- fuge in the same haven of eternal rest. It might seem scarcely possible that this -^ simple doctrine should be misapprehended ; and yet, from the unaccountable and most unfortunate propensity to look for religious information anywhere rather than in the Bible, it has been perverted in a variety of ways, according to the tempers of those who have speculated on it. It has been some- times so incautiously stated, as to give ground to cavillers for the charge that the Christian scheme represents God's attribute of justice as utterly at variance with every moral principle. The allegation has as- sumed a foi'm somewhat resembling this, " that, according to Christianity, God in- 118 deed apportions to every instance and de- gree of transgression its proper punish- ment; but that, while he rigidly exacts this punishment, he is not much concerned whether the person who pays it be the real criminal or an innocent being, provid- ed only that it is a full equivalent ; nay, that he is under a strange necessity to can- cel guilt whenever this equivalent of pu- nishment is tendered to him by whatever hand. This perversion has arisen from the habit amongst some writers on religion of pressing too far the analogy between a crime and a pecuniary debt. It is not sur- prising, that any one who entertains such a view of the subject, should reject Chris- tianity as a revelation of the God of holi- ness and goodness. But this is not the I view given in the Bible. The account ; which the Bible gives of the matter is this, " Herein is love, — not that we loved God, ut that God loved us, and sent his Sqb to be a propitiation for our sins ;" and God set forth Jesus Christ, " to declare his righteousness." Any view of the doctrine \ which is inconsistent with this account, is a perversion of Scripture, for which the 119 perverters are themselves responsible, and not the Bible. The error consists in sepa- rating the actions of God from the inten- tion anifested in them towards men. Were such a view, however, of the Divine Being, as that which has been just mention- ed, actually and fully believed by any man !J of an ordinary construction of mind, it , would assuredly produce very strange and ) very melancholy results. He would learn \ from it to consider the connexion between i r sin and misery, not as a necessary con- nexion, but as an arbitrary one, which might be dissolved, and had been dissolved by the authority of mere power. Thus he could not identify in his thoughts and feel- ings misery with sin, — which is one of the prominent lessons of the Bible. He could see nothing in the character of God either venerable or lovely. And even the restraint ! of fear would be removed by the idea, that a penalty had been already paid of greater price than any debt of crime which he had contracted, or could contract. His heart could find in this doctrine no constraining power urging him to the fulfilment of the great commandments of love to God and ISO / man. In fact, this doctrine undermines ■ the divinity of Christ as much as Socinian- ( ism, inasmuch as it makes a separation be- ; tween the views and character of the Father ( and those of the Son. There is another view of this doctrine, "-^ which, though less revolting to the feelings I than that which I have just stated, is quite as inconsistent with reason. According to it, the atonement is a scheme by which God has mitigated the strict purity of his ' law ; so that those who live under the gos- / pel are merely required to yield an imper- fect but sincere obedience, instead of that perfect obedience to which they were bound before they professed the faith of Christ / Now, let it be remembered, that the love of \ God with all the heart constitutes the sub- stance of the law which we are called on to / obey ; and let it also be remembered, that ■v^ the sacrifice of Christ was made not only as "^i a vindication of God's justice in proclaim- / ing pardon to the guilty, but also for the purpose of presenting to the human heart, / an object most wortjiy, and most admirably '- fitted to attract all its love ; and then it will appear, that those who give this inter- 121 pretation of the doctrine, do in fact main- tain, that God dispenses with our giving him our full love, on condition that we are convinced iliat he deserves thisfidl Ime at our hands. The whole end and scope of religion is lost sight of in this interpreta- tion. Christ gave himself for ms, to re- deem us from all iniquity y and to purify to himself a peculiar pe(yple, %ealous of good works, A perfect conformity to the will of God, is not only perfect obedience — it is also perfect happiness ; and that gracious Father who calls on his creatures to be holy as he is holy, calls on them, by the very same exhortation, to be happy as he is happy. To dispense with our obedience, is not mercy to us ; for it is in truth to dis- pense with our happiness. We are not re- ceived into the favour of God at all on the ground of our own deservings, but on the ground of the satisfaction made to Divine justice by the death of Christ as the repre- sentative of sinners ; and the belief of this mercy, by its natural operation, gradually subdues the heart to the love and the obe- dience of God. Perfect obedience, then, though it is required, and though it is in- G 1^2 / dispensible to perfect happiness, is not the I foundation of our hope for eternity : It is N the object of our hope, not the foundation (of it. We must be trained up to it by I the faith of the gospel. It is never attain- S ed here in its blessed fulness ; and there- / fore perfect happiness is never attained : But the seed of it may be attained, and may take root in the heart ; and it has an eternity before it, to grow and flourish in. An imperfect but sincere obedience, will almost always mean in the human judge- ment, that degree of obedience which it is convenient to pay ; — and this degree is paid by all men. The real glory of Chris- tianity is thus extinguished, because the standard of moral duty is lowered. True humility can have no place in this system, because we limit our duty by our perform- ance. And gratitude for undeserved mercy is excluded, except that base gratitude which thanks God for permitting us to be unholy. God's mercy is a holy mercy : It pardons, but never sanctions imperfec- tion. rpK There is another view of this subject, ^ certainly not very uncommon amongst those 123 who call themselves Christians, which is as -. subversive of the principle and efficiency of / the gospel as either of those mentioned / above. According to this scheme, it is sup- i posed that our hope before God rests on a ) ground made up partly of our own obedi- ence, and partly of the atoning efficacy of Christ's sacrifice. The work of the Savi- our- is thus made a supplement to the de- v ficiencies of human merit ; and this sup- j plement is conceived to be added as a sort 1 of reward for diligent obedience. The de- cent, and orderly, and well-behaved mem- ber of society, is thus considered to have a just though an undefined claim to a parti- cipation in the benefits of the Redeemer's death, whilst the utterly abandoned and profligate is considered unworthy, in his present state, of approaching the cross of Christ, and is therefore recommended to reformf* that he may bring himself into a condition which may entitle him to do this with a reasonable hope of acceptance. There is a looseness and a vagueness generally at- tached to the ideas of that class of nominal believers to which I refer, that makes it difficult to meet or to answer their theories ; 124 but I am sure that I may confidently ap- peal to many, whether the statement which has been given does not bear a very near resemblance to some views of the doctrine of the atonement with which they are well acquainted. The proper answer to these views, when held by one who really assents to the in- spiration of the Bible, is, that they are at direct variance with the Bible. Paul says that justification is declared to be of faith, for this very reason, that it might be gra- tuitous, and that all boasting on the part / of man might be excluded, &c. ; " not by ' works of righteousness which we have done, but of his mercy he saved us." And when the Jews, who seemed to have prejudices closely allied to those which we are examin- ing, reproached Christ as the friend of pub- / licans and sinners, he answered them, that \ his business was with sinners ; " that the whole needed not a physician, but they that were sick," and " that he came to seek and to save that which was lost." According to the revealed record, then, that combination of justice and of mercy which was manifested on the cross, is the 125 exclusive ground of hope before God, — and on this ground every one is invited to rest, in the character of a lost sinner, without delay, and without any fruitless and pre- sumptuous attempts to attain a previous worthiness. It may appear to some, that this is a question rather about words than things ; but, in fact, it goes to the very root of the Christian character. Is it not evident, that upon this system there can be no true hu- mility ? because, as we know that that por- tion of our hope which rests upon Christ is already fixed, and therefore not liable to change, our attention is naturally and ne- cessarily drawn almost entirely to the re- maining portion, which is to be made out by ourselves, and which is therefore liable to be changed. Our own doings and de- servings become thus the chief objects of our thought. And, let me ask, what are the moral impressions which such objects are fitted to make on the character ? IF falsely viewed as really worthy titles to the favour of God, they can produce no impres- sions but those of self-conceit and self-con- fidence ; and if rightly and truly apprecia- 126 tedj they can produce nothing but appre- hension or despair. The beauty of the Christian revelation consists in this, that the same object which gives peace to the conscience, produces contrition of heart, and is also the most powerful stimulant to holy and grateful obedience. The work of Christ is the sole ground of hope, and is therefore the chief object of thought ; and the im- pressions emanating from this object sum up the Christian character. If I might venture, on such a subject, to allude to the profane mythology of Greece, I think that an illustration of this might be drawn from the fabled contest between Hercules and Antaeus. Antaeus was the son of the earth, and whenever he touched the earth, fresh vigour was communicated to him. Those blows therefore which he sustained from his adversary, and which in other circumstances w^ould have destroyed him, were to him the means of increasing his strength, because they brought him into nearer contact with the earth, which was the source of his strength. The ground on which he rested was the stimulus of his exertions. When the Christian has apprehensions for his 127 safety, he looks to the ground of his hope, and there he finds not only peace but vi- gour. But the whole of this erroneous view of the doctrine rests on a false notion with re- gard to the purpose of the gospel. The gospel addresses men as rebels diseased by sin, and already condemned. The salvation, which it offers is most strikingly explained by the prophet Jeremiah, chap. xxxi. 31, and three following verses. It consists in a spiritual character : " I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts ;" and the mighty instrument by which this effect is to be accomplished is pointed out in the end of the 34th verse, "Jbr I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more." That is, the circumstances and the manner in which this pardon is to be proclaimed, shall attract the hearts of men to the love and the obedience of God. Salvation, then, means the holy love of God, — a holy obe- dience of heart, arising from a belief of that mercy which is proclaimed in the gospel. Salvation and obedience mean precisely the same thing ; and it is as absurd to say that a 128 man is saved by obedience, as to say, that a man is restored to health by getting well. We are not called on to obey, in order to obtain pardon ; but we are called on to be- lieve the proclamation of pardon, in order that we may obey. " The gospel is said to be the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth ;" and why ? " Because God's method of justification is revealed in it to be by faith," Rom. i. 16, 17. I do believe that many preach a different doc- trine, from a notion that the true gospel offer of free unconditional pardon is unfa- vourable to practical obedience and holiness. But, in fact, there is nothing acknowledged by the Bible to be obedience or holiness which does not spring from the belief of this free, undeserved mercy. The attempt at obedience without this, is a most thank- less labour, — it is never successful — and even were it successful, it would be the obedience of the hand and not of the heart. It is as if we chose to move the index of a clock with the finger, instead of winding it up. The language of the gospel is, " You shall be ashamed and confounded, because I am pacified towards you for all your ini- 129 quities." This plan of pacification wrought out by God himself, is the great subject of the Bible ; and the proclamation of this free pardon is the preaching of the gospel ; and he who, in his system of teaching, does not hold this up in its proper pre- eminence, is not a preacher of the gospel of Christ. He lays aside that weapon of ethereal temper which God has chosen out of the armoury of heaven, and which he blessed and sanctified for the destruction of moral evil, and goes forth to encounter the powers of darkness without a single well-grounded hope of success. And I am confident — that this same doctrine of free grace, if it could be candidly viewed as a mere abstract question in moral science, would compel the approbation of a true philosopher, — and that the compromise or mutilation of it (which is less uncommon than the value of souls would lead us to de- sire) is not more opposed to the authority of the word of God, than it is to the prin- ciples of sound reason. This subject has been already illustrated by examples drawn from human life. I shall now therefore vary the view of it, by G2 130 considering it in connexion with the rite of sacrifice. The. same truth with regard to the cha- racter of God and the condition of man, which is so fully developed in the New Testament, is exhibited also in the Old through an obscurer medium, — a medium of types and shadows and prophecy. When the Messiah was promised to our First Pa- rents, the memory and the principle of the promise were embodied in the institution of sacrifice. Sensible objects were neces- sary, in order to recal to the thoughts, and to explain to the understanding of man, the spiritual declarations of God. Under the Jewish economy, this institution was en- larged and diversified ; but still it pointed to the same fact^ and illustrated the same priiicijde. The fact was, the death of Christ for the sins of the world ; the prin- ciple was, that God is at once just and mer- ciful, and that these attributes of his na- ture are in joint and harmonious operation. Multitudes, probably both of the Jews and of those who lived before the Mosaic sys- tem, recognized in their sacrifices that fu- ture salvation which was to be wrought 131 out by the promised seed ; but afar greater number must be supposed to have stopped short at the rite, through want of spiritual discernment. When the prefigured ^^ was thus forgotten, let us consider whether the moral principle exhibited in the cere- mony might not still in some measure be understood, and affect the character of the devout worshipper. The full vindication of God's holiness, and of the truth of his de- nunciations against sin, could indeed rest only on the sacrifice of the Divine Saviour ; but although those who saw this great thing through the types which partially obscured whilst they represented it, could alone re- ceive the full benefits of the institution, shall we think that those who did not enter into the spirit of prophecy, were entirely excluded from the operation of its princi- ple, and saw nothing of the Divine cha- racter manifested in it ? As the prosecu- tion of this inquiry may tend to throw greater light on some views which have been already given, I shall here consider the subject of sacrifice apart altogether from its prophetic import. This view of the matter simply regards those particulars 132 which rendered the rite of sacrifice a fit em- blem of the atonement of Christ. When God teaches by emblems, he chuses such emblems as are naturally calculated to im- press the principle of the antitype upon our minds. There is then a suitableness in animal sacrifices, to give some idea of that great truth which was so gloriously deve- loped in the work of the Saviour, when the fulness of time had arrived. Let us con- sider, then, wherein consists this suitable- ness. What is the meaning of a sacrifice ? What is the purpose of killing a poor ani- mal, because a man has sinned ? Can it be supposed that a wise and good God will in reality make a transference of the guilt of the man to the head of the beast? — Impossible ; and it is equally impossible to conceive that God should command his creatures to do a thing which they could not understand, and by which therefore their characters could not be benefited. The institution contained a great truth, exhibiting God's character, and affecting man's. The suppliant who came with his sacrifice before God, virtually said, " Thou hast appointed this rite as the form through 133 which thy mercy is declared to sinners; and it is indeed in thy mercy alone that I can hope, for I have deserved this death which I now inflict, as the just reward of my transgressions." Thus the mercy and the holiness of God were hoth kept in view by this rite ; and gratitude and penitence would be impressed to a certain degree on the characters of those whose hearts accom- panied their hands in the service. This is just an exhibition of the principle in na- tural religion, that God is gracious, and worthy of our highest love ; and that sin deserves punishment, and is connected with misery. Our gratitude, however, for for- giveness would be just in proportion to our apprehensions of the demerit of sin and the danger connected with it, and also to our idea of the interest which God took in our welfare* The death of an animal was the only measure of the guilt and danger of sin, which these sacrifices exhibited ; and forgiveness, which seems an easy thing where there is nothing to fear from the power of the offender, was the only measure of the interest which God had taken in our welfare. Thus, these sacrifices rather in- 134 culcated on the worshippers the danger and demerit of sin (and this in no very high de- gree), than the goodness of God. The ani- mal which was slain was the property of the suppliant ; and he might feel the loss of it to be a species of atoning penalty, as well as a typical representation of the guilt of sin, which would very much diminish his idea both of God*s free mercy, and of the guilt of sin which could be so easily atoned. The sacrifice of a man would have furnished a greater measure of guilt ; but it could not have impressed on the mind any stronger conviction of the graciousness of God. If we ascend the scale of being, and suppose an incarnate angel to become the victim, the measure by which we may estimate the guilt of sin increases, to be sure, in a very high degree ; but still, there is nothing in such a sacrifice which speaks in unequivocal language of the exceeding goodness of God. Although the sufferings of the angel were considered to be perfectly voluntary, it would not alter the view of God's character : Our gratitude would in- deed be called forth by the goodness of the angel ; but forgiveness still would 135 seem a cheap and easy thing on the part of God, whose creative fiat could call into existence millions of brighter spirits. That God in human nature should him* self become the victim, is a scheme which indeed outstrips all anticipation, and baffles the utmost stretch of our minds when we labour to form an idea of perfect benevo- lence and perfect holiness ; but yet it is the only scheme which can fully meet the double object of strongly attracting our love to God, and at the same time of deep- ly convincing us of the danger and base- ness and ingratitude of sin. This gives us a measure by which we may estimate both the Divine goodness and our own guilt. It is indeed an exhibition of " love which passeth knowledge." But yet, when the conscience comes to be fully enlighten- ed, nothing short of this marvellous exhi- bition can produce peace. When a man is once thoroughly convinced that sin con- sists in a choice of the heart different from the will of God, even although that choice does not vent itself in an external action, he must feel that he has accumulated, through the past days of his life, and that 136 he is still daily accumulating, a most fear- ful weight of guilt. A day of retribution approaches, and he must meet God face to face. A simple declaration of forgiveness on the part of God, would certainly in these circumstances be most comforting to him ; but still it would be difficult to per- suade him, that the Holy One who inha- biteth eternity, could look with kindness on a being so polluted and so opposite in every respect to himself in moral charac- ter. Until this persuasion takes hold of his mind, he can neither enjoy real peace, nor be animated with that grateful love which can alone lead to a more perfect obe- dience. The surpassing kindness and ten- derness demonstrated in the cross of Christ, and the full satisfaction there rendered to his violated law, when understood and be- lieved, must sweep away all doubts and fears with regard to God's disposition to- wards him, and must awaken in his heart that sentiment of grateful and reverential attachment which is the spiritual seed of the heavenly inheritance. " If, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more being 137 reconciled, we shall be saved by his living love." It seems to me, that the Scriptural state- ment of this doctrine is in itself the best answer that can be made to Socinians. If Christ was only an inspired teacher, his death is of very small importance to us ; because it gives no demonstration of the kindness of God, and therefore can neither give peace to a troubled conscience, nor ex- cite grateful affection ; and also, because it gives no high measure of the guilt and danger of sin, and therefore cannot impress us strongly with a sense of its inherent ma- lignity. We thus lose the whole benefit of Christianity as a palpable exhibition of the Divine character, and are thrown back again on the inefficiency and vagueness of abstract principles. In this view, likewise, all those passages of Scripture in w^hich our gratitude, our reverential esteem, and our filial confidence, are so triumphantly chal- lenged on the ground of the death of Christ, become empty unmeaning words : For, if Christ was not God, there is no necessary or natural connexion between the belief of his death and the excitement of such senti- 138 ments in our hearts towards God ; while, on the supposition that he was God, the connexion is most distinct and unavoidahle. In fact, if Jesus Christ was merely a man, the greatest part of the Bible is mere bombast. To a man who disbelieves the inspiration of the Bible, this of course is no argument. But surely he ought not, in a matter of such unspeakable importance, to reject a doctrine which may be true, without examining it in all its bearings. He ought not to take the account of it upon trust, when he has the record itself to apply to. He is right to reject an absurd statement ; but he is wrong to decide without investigation that this absurd statement is contained in the Bible. Let him consult the Bible, — let him consider what this doctrine declares of the character of God, — ^let him trace the natural effects of its belief on the character of man, — let him understand that it ex- pands our ideas of the Divine holiness by the very demonstration which attracts our love, that it quickens the sensitiveness of conscience by the very demonstration which gives peace to the conscience, — and he may continue to reject it ; but he will not deny 139 that there is a reasonableness in it — that it contains all the elements of a perfect doc- trine — that it is most glorifying to God and most suitable to man. To sum up my observations on this subject : The doctrine of the atonement, by the incarnation and death of Christ, is illustrative of the Divine mercy, and vindicative of the Divine holi- ness ; it is a foundation of hope before God, amply sufficient for the most guilty of men; and it is fitted to implant in the vilest heart which will receive it, the principles of true penitence and true gratitude, of ardent at- tachment to the holy character of God, and of a cordial devotion to his will. The hallowed purpose of restoring men to the lost image of their Creator, is in fact the very soul and spirit of the Bible ; and whenever this object does not distinctly ap- pear, the whole system becomes dead and useless. In creeds and confessions this great purpose is not made to stand forth with its real prominency; its intimate connexion with the different articles of faith is not adverted to ; the point of the whole argu- ment is thus lost, and Christianity is mis- apprehended to be a mere list of mysterious 140 facts. One who understands the Bible may read them with profit, because his own mind may fill up the deficiencies, and when their statements are correct, they may assist in- quirers in certain stages, by bringing un- der their eye a concentrated view of all the points of Christian doctrine, and they may serve, according to their contents, either as public invitations to their communion, or as public warnings against it, and they may stand as doctrinal landmarks ; but they are not calculated to impress on the mind of a learner a vivid and useful apprehension of Christianity. The object in them is not to teach religion, but to defend it ; and whilst they keep their own place, they are benefi- cial. But any person who draws his know- ledge of the Christian doctrines exclusively or principally from such sources, must run considerable risk of losing the benefit of them, by overlooking their moral objects ; and, in so doing, he may be tempted to reject them altogether, because he will be blind to their strongest evidence, which consists in their perfect adaptation to these objects. The Bible is the only perfectly- pure source of Divine knowledge ; and the 141 man who is unacquainted with it, is in fact ignorant of the doctrines of Christianity, however well-read he may be in the schemes and systems and controversies which have been written on the subject. The habit of viewing the Christian doc- trines and the Christian character as two separate things, has a most pernicious ten- dency. A man who, in his scheme of Chris- tianity, says, " here are so many things to be believed, and here are so many to be done," has already made a fundamental mistake. The doctrines are the principles which must excite and animate the per- formance : They are the points from which the lines of conduct flow ; and as lines may be supposed to be formed by the progress of their points, or to be drawn out of their substance, so the line of Christian conduct is only formed by the progressive action of Christian principle, or is drawn out of its substance. The doctrines of revelation form a great spiritual mould, fitted by Divine wisdom for impressing the stamp of the Christian character on the minds that receive them. I shall here mention some of the leading 142 features of that character, as connected with the corresponding doctrines. The love of God is the radical principle of the Christian character ; and to implant this principle, is the grand object and the distinct tendency of the Christian doctrines. And it may be proper here to repeat an observation which has been already much insisted on, — that this love is not a vague affection for an ill-defined object, but a sen- timent of approbation and attachment to a distinctly- defined character. The Bible calls us to the exercise of this affection, by set- ting before us a history of the unspeakable mercy of God towards man. At first sight, it might seem impossible to conceive any way in which the mercy of God could be very strikingly or affectingly manifested towards his creatures. His omnipotence and unbounded sovereignty make every im- aginable gift cheap and easy to him. The pardon of the sins committed by such feeble worms, seems no great stretch of compas- sion in so great and so unassailable a mo- narch. God knew the heart of man. He knew that such would be his reasonings ; and he prepared a work of mercy, which 143 might in all points meet these conceptions. God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son for its salvation. His was not the benevolence which gives an un- missed mite out of a boundless store, — it was a self-sacrificing benevolence, which is but meagerly shadowed forth by any earth- ly comparison. We admire Codrus sacri- ficing his life for his country ; we admire the guide plunging into the quicksand to warn and save his companions ; we admire the father suffering the sentence of his own law in the stead of his son ; we admire Re- gulus submitting to voluntary torture for the glory of Rome : But the goodness of God, in becoming man, and suffering, the just for the unjust, that he might demon- strate to them the evil of sin, — that he might attract their affections to his own character, and thus induce them to follow him in the way of happiness, — was a good- ness as much superior to any human good- ness, as God is above man, or as the eter- nal happiness of the soul is above this fleet- ing existence ; and, if believed, must ex- cite a proportionate degree of admiration and gratitude. 144 The active and cordial love of our fellow- creatures is the second Christian duty. And can this sentiment be more powerfully im- pressed upon us, than by the fact, that Christ's blood was shed for them as well as for ourselves ; and by the consideration that this blood reproaches us with the basest in- gratitude, when we feel or act maliciously, or even slightingly, towards those in whom our heavenly Benefactor took so deep an interest? Under the sense of our Lord's continual presence, we shall endeavour to promote even their temporal welfare ; but, above all, we shall be earnest for the good of their souls, which he died to redeem. Christians are commanded to mortify the earthly and selfish passions of ambition and avarice and sensuality. Our Lord died that he might redeem us from such base thraldom, and allure us to the pure liberty of the sons of God. The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life, were in fact his murderers. If we love him, we must hate them : If we love our own peace, we must hate them ; for they sepa- rate the soul from the Prince of Peace. The happiness of eternity consists in a confor- 145 mity to the God of holiness ; and shall we spend our few days in confirming ourselves in habits directly opposed to him ? — No ; rather let us begin heaven below, by begin- ning to be holy. The gospel exhorts us to humility ; and deep humility, indeed, must be the result of a true acquiescence in the judgment which God passed upon us when he con- demned his Son as the representative of our race. And when we think of what our Almighty Father hath done for us, our hearts must often convict us of the strange contrast which is exhibited betwixt our dealings with him and his dealings with us. We are commanded to be diligent in the duties of life, and to be patient under its sufferings. And to enforce this precept, we are instructed that the minutest event of life is ordered by him who loved us and gave himself for us ; and that all these events, howtrifling or how calamitous soever they may appear, are yet necessary parts of a great plan of spiritual education, by which he trains his people to his own likeness, and fits them for their heavenly inheritance. H 146 He walked himself by the same road ; only it was rougher ; and he hath shown us by his example, that the cross is a step to glory. The Scriptures teach, that the sentence of death falls upon all mankind, in conse- quence of the transgression of the first in- dividual ; and that eternal life is bestowed on account of the perfect obedience of Je- sus Christ. The grand moral purpose for which this doctrine is introduced, is to im- press upon our minds a sense of the punish- ment due to transgression — of the exceed- ing opposition which exists between sin and happiness, and of the exceeding har- mony which subsists between perfect holi- ness and eternal glory. The death of a single individual could give no adequate manifestation of the pernicious nature of sin. Death appears sometimes rather as a blessing than an evil ; and in- general no moral lesson is received from it, except the vanity of earthly things. But when a sin- gle offence is presented to us, and there is appended to it the extinction of a whole race as its legitimate consequence, we can- not evade the conviction of its inherent ma- lignity. As the value of this fe^^ti^^tf r^r K. really received, infinitely overbalance?^4ft= the accounts of eternity the loss of this brief mode of our existence, there can be no just ground of complaint against the great Disposer of all things. In the same way, the hope of eternal life through the obedience of Christ, suggests to us the idea of the strong love and appro- bation which God feels for moral perfection, and the indissoluble connexion in the nature of things between happiness and holiness. The Divine government in this respect is just a vivid expression of the great moral attribute of God, "that he loveth righteous- ness, and hateth iniquity." A simple par- don, bestowed without any accompanying circumstances, must have drawn some de- gree of gratitude from the criminal, if he knew his danger ; and this would have been all : Jgut when he views the perfect and holy obedience of a great benefactor as the ground of his pardon, he is induced to look with love and admiration towards that obedience which gained the Divine favour, as well as towards the friend who paid it. A feeling of humble and affectionate de- 148 pendence on the Saviour, a dread and ha- tred of sin, and a desire after holiness, are the natural fruits of the belief of this doc- trine. That plan of the Divine government by which God deals with men through a re- presentative, occupies an important place in revealed religion. In the observations which 1 have here made on this subject, as well as through the whole course of the Treatise, I have in a great measure confined my remarks to the direct connexion which sub- sists between the doctrines of the Bible, and the character which the belief of them is fitted to produce in the mind of man : And with this view, I have called the at- tention of the reader principally to the su- periority in real efficiency which palpable facts, as illustrative of moral principles, possess over a statement of the same prin- ciples when in an unembodied and abstract form : But I should be doing a real injury to the cause which I wish to advocate, were I to be the means of conducting any one to the conclusion, that Christianity is nothing more than a beautiful piece of moral me- chanism, or that its doctrines were mere 149 typical emblems of the moral principles in the Divine mind, well adapted to the un- derstandings and feelings of men. Sup- posing the history of Codrus to be true, he was under a moral necessity to act as he did, independently of any intention to in* fuse the spirit of patriotism into his coun- trymen ; and, supposing the Bible to be true, God was under the moral necessity of his own character, to act as he is there represented to have done. The acts there ascribed to him are real acts, not paraboli- cal pictures : They were not only fitted and intended to impress the minds of his creatures — they were also the necessary re- sults and the true vindications of his own diaracter. This belief is inseparably con- nected with a belief of the reality of Christ's sufferings ; and if Christ's sufferings were not real, we may give up the Bible. These sufferings are the foundation of a Chris- tian's hope before God, not only because he sees in them a most marvellous proof of the Divine love, but also because he sees in them the sufferings of the representative of sinners. He sees the denunciations of the law fulfilled, and the bitter cup of in- 150 dignation allotted to apostacy drained to the very dregs ; and he thus perceives that God is just even when justifying the guilty. The identity of the Judge and the victim dispels the misty ideas of blind vindictive- ness with which this scheme may some- times have been perversely enveloped ; and he approaches God with the humble yet confident assurance that he will favourably receive all who come to him in the name of Christ. Whilst he continues in this world, he will remember that the link which binds heaven and earth together is unbro- ken, and that his great Representative does not in the midst of glory forget what he felt when he was a man of sorrows below. This relation to the Saviour will spiritualize the affections of the believer, and raise him above the afflictions of mortality ; and will produce in him a conformity to the charac- ter of Christ, which is another name for the happiness of heaven. I have hitherto been considering the Christian doctrines chiefly as facts embody- ing the principles of the Divine character ; but this spiritual union with the Saviour, as the head and representative of his peo» 151 pie, gives to his religion a deeper interest and a sublimer and more unearthly charac- ter than could be excited or expressed by the highest views of holy and gracious worth, even in its more glorious and most lovely operation. We know something of what his official employment is in the sanctu- ary above ; we know something of his glory and of his joy: And shall we not, even in this vale of tears, endeavour to enter into his holy desires, and sympathize with his affec- tions, and triumph in his universal domi- nion ? — He once suffered for us — He now reigns for us. His people were once re- presented on the cross at Calvary, and they are now represented on the throne of Hea- ven. The doctrine of the Holy Spirit is also connected with most important moral con- sequences. He is represented as dictating originally the revealed word, and as still watching and assisting its progress. He is where the truth is, and he dwells in the hearts where it operates. The general idea of the omnipresence of God is chiefly connected with the belief of his providence and protection, his approving or condemn- 152 ing ; but the doctrine of the Spirit is con- nected in the minds of Christians simply with a belief of his accompanying and giving weight and authority to revealed truth. The truth becomes thus closely associated in their minds with a sense of the presence and the gracious solicitude of God. With regard to the mode of the opera- tion of the Holy Spirit on the human mind, the Bible says nothing ; — ^it simply testifies the fact. To this divine agent we are directed to apply, for the enlighten- ing of the eyes of our understanding, for strength in the inner man, and for all the Christian qualities. These effects ^re in other places of Scripture referred to the influence of revealed truth itself. We are also told, that the Spirit takes of the things relating to Christ, and presents them to the soul. We may gather from this, that the Spirit never acts, except through the medium of the doctrines of the Bible. He uses them as instruments naturally fitted for the work. He does not produce the love of God, except by the instrumentality of that divine truth which testifies of the 153 moral excellency and kindness of God. He does not produce humility, but through the medium of that truth which declares the extent and spirituality of the require- ments of God's law. This doctrine, then, does not in the slightest degree invalidate the argument in favour of revelation, which has been deduced from the natural con^ nexion between believing its doctrines and obeying its precepts. These doctrines would of themselves persuade and sanctify a spirit which was not by inclination opposed to their tendency. This divine agent does not excite feelings or emotions in the mind, independent of reason or an intelligible cause : The whole matter of the Bible is addressed to the reason, and its doctrines are intelligible causes of certain moral ef- fects on the characters of those who believe them. The Spirit of God brings these causes to act upon the mind with their na- tural innate power. This influence, then, is quite different from that inspiration by which prophets were enabled to declare fu- ture events. It is an influence which pro- bably can never be distinguished, in our consciousness, from the innate influence of H2 154 argument or motive. A firm-minded man, unused to the melting mood, may on a particular occasion be moved and excited by a tale of wo far beyond his common state of feeling : His friends may wonder at an agitation so unusual ; they may ask him how this story has affected him more than other stories of a similar nature ; but he will not be able to give any other reason than what is contained in the distressing facts which he had been listening to. His greater susceptibility in this instance might have originated from some change in his bodily temperament, or from certain trains of thought which had previously been pas- sing through his mind : But these citcum- stances did not make the impression ; they only made him more fit to receive the im- pression from an object which was naturally calculated to make it. The impression was entirely made by the story, — just as the impression upon wax is entirely made by the seal, although heat may be required to fit it for receiving the impression. I have used this illustration to show that the influence of the Spirit does not necessarily destroy, and is not necessarily 155 imdependent of, that natural relation of cause and effect which subsists between the doctrines taught and the moral charac- ter recommended by the Bible. * When the prophet Elisha was suiTound- ed in Dothan by the Syrian army, he felt no fear, because he placed full confidence in the protection of God. But his servant was terrified by the appearance of inevit- able ruin. It pleased God, however, to de- liver him at once from his agitation and perplexity, even before he thought fit to remove the appearance of the danger. And how was this efiected ? God opened the young man's eyes, and he saw and beheld the mountain was full of horses and cha- riots of fire round about Elisha. God here interposed miraculously, in order to calm the man's spirit. But mark the nature of the interposition ; God dealt with the man as a reasonable Being, — he gave him ocu- lar demonstration of his safety. He did not w^ork in his mind an unaccountable in- trepidity in the face of danger which he could not have explained, but discovered to him a fact, which, from the nature of the human mind, could not fail of dispelling 156 his fearful apprehensions. Had he given full credit to the assurances of his master, his mind would have been at peace with- out the interposition of this supernatural revelation. But although he acknowledged his master to be a prophet, yet he did not place that implicit reliance on his testimony which was sufficient to overcome the vio- lent excitement produced in his mind by the visible objects of terror which surroimd- ed him. When his eyes were opened, he saw and believed ; and this belief brought peace. It was not the miraculous inter- position abstractly, which produced this effect; it was the glorious army of guardian angels, miraculously unveiled to his eye, which inspired him with confidence, and enabled him to despise the Syrian power : If, instead of these friendly hosts, he had seen the angel whom David saw with a sword drawn over Jerusalem, the sight would only have increased his alarm. It is then the object believed, from whatever source the belief proceeds, whether from seeing or hearing, which operates on the mind. That the belief of the gospel is, in every instance, the work of the Holy Spirit, no 157 one who believes in the Bible can doubt ; and indeed this doctrine is the ground of the Christian's confidence that he shall con- tinue stedfast unto the end : But still it must be remembered, that it is not the su- pernatural agency itself abstractly, which gives Christian peace and Christian strength to the mind, but the history of the Sa- viour's work, which through this mediun^ is spiritually revealed to it. The Lord open- ed the heart of Lydia to attend to the things spoken by Paul. If our notions of divine influence lead us away from attend- ing to the things contained in the gospel, we are deluding ourselves. And on the other hand, if our mode of studying the Bible does not cultivate in us a conviction of our own weakness, and an habitual de- pendence on the operations of the Holy Spirit, we certainly do not belong to that society who are said to be " all taught of God," and have no spiritual discernment of the truth : When we study the doc- trines of revelation, we ought to study them in that connexion in which they stand in the Bible itself. They are not given to us for the purpose of exercising our faculties in 158 speculative discussion, but for practical use- fulness. The observance of this rule will save us from much perplexity, and many a thorny and agitating question. In the Bible, this doctrine of Divine influence which we are now considering, is uniformly connected with the most explicit declarations, that man is free to act, and responsible for his actions. Man's inability to obey God consists abso- lutely in his unwillingness, and is but ano- ther name for the greatest degree of this. There is nothing to prevent him from em- bracing the gospel, and walking in the ways of holiness, but his own opposite inclina- tions. "This is the condemnation, that light has come unto the world, and men have loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil," John iii. 19. It is worthy of remark, that our Lord makes this state- ment in that very conversation in which he insists on the necessity under which every individual lies of being spiritually born again, before he can enter the kingdom of God. In the gospel, sinners are called upon, not to be supernaturally influenced, but to believe the Divine testimony. And the question at last will be, not by what 159 influence or arguments were you led to the Saviour, but, did you embrace his offered salvation ? It is not very uncommon to hear religious persons speak of faith and holiness merely as evidences of a Divine operation on the heart, and as valuable simply on this account. But such language is not borrowed from the Scriptures. Here w^e find faith and holiness considered as quali- ties valuable in themselves, and as duties imperative on all to whom the message is published. " Repent (i. e. change your principles) and believe the gospel," is the substance of the first discourse preached, after the ascension of our Lord, to his very murderers. And this same exhortation is thrown loose upon the world, and when re- jected, is rejected wilfully and at the peril of the rejectors. The evidences for the gos- pel, both external and internal, are suited to the human faculties ; and so too is the substance of its contents. A sinner who admits its evidence, and who reads it with the attention which such an admission de- mands, and who finds in it peace to his conscience and good hope for eternity, through the great atonement, will assured- 160 ly, if he has indeed made this happy dis- covery, acknowledge, with humility and gratitude, the kindness of God in leading him out of darkness into this marvellous light ; and he will continue to look to that divine and unseen influence, which first stopped him in his downward course, for support and encouragement during the re- mainder of his pilgrimage. And he who is condemned for rejecting the gospel will be condemned on this ground, viz. that he might, as well as ought, to have done other- wise ; and that he has resisted the convic- tion both of his reason and conscience, which had testified against him. It is our duty and our privilege to look to tht free offer of salvation, and the sufficiency of the atonement ; and we are wandering from the Bible, and from peace, and from piety, when we occupy our thoughts with such difficulties. But why was this doctrine revealed, and what benefit is to be derived from believing it ? What effect is the belief of it cal- culated to produce on our characters ; and what light does it throw on the character of God, or on the condition of man ? As 161 the work of the Spirit is to enlighten the eyes of our understanding with regard to divine truth, and to take of the things of Christ and show them to us, the belief of this doctrine of course includes the convic- tion, that we stand in need of this light, and that the inclination of our hearts na- turally leads us from the things of Christ. This conviction, if real, will humble us be- fore God, and excite us to a jealous vigi- lance over every motion of our minds. In this doctrine, also, God gives a manifesta- tion of his own character. He presents himself to his weak and ignorant creatures, as ready to meet all their wants, and sup- ply all their deficiencies ; and thus conde- scends to solicit their confidence. He pro- mises his Spirit to those who ask ; and thus invites and stimulates them to hold frequent intercourse with himself by prayer. He declares his holy anxiety for the ad- vancement of the truth ; and thus attracts their attention and regard to it. When the arguments of the gospel alarm or confirm or comfort the mind, the Holy Spirit is present ; and the belief of this will unspeakably enforce the argument, — -just i62 as we often find that the presence and voice of a friend will give weight to reasons which would be disregarded in his absence. If God thus offers us his spiritual presence and support through the medium of his truth, ought not we ever to carry about with us the remembrance and the love of the truth, that we may enjoy much of his presence and support ? If he is so watchful over the progress of Christian principle in the hearts of men, ought not we also to be watchful, lest we grieve him, and lest we lose the precious benefits of his instruc- tions ? As the gospel confines the influence of the Spirit to the truths contained in the written word, there is nothing to fear from fanaticism. The Holy Spirit does not now reveal any thing new, but impresses what is already revealed. 163 SECTION V. It thus appears that the gospel is a great storehouse of medicines for the moral dis- eases of the human mind. It contains ar- guments most correctly fitted to act power- fully on our reason and on our feelings ; and these arguments are in themselves na- turally destructive of moral evil. They give a life and a reality to the shadowy traits of natural religion ; they exhibit in a history of facts the abstract idea of the Divine character ; and thus they render that cha- racter intelligible to the comprehension, and impressive on the heart of man. And is there no need for this medicine ? If it be admitted that wickedness and misery reign in this world to a frightful extent, and that nothing is more common than a strange carelessness about our Creator, and a decided spirit of hostility to the holiness of his character, — if it be admitted that there prevails throiigh the hearts of our spe- 164 cies, a proud selfishness of disposition which looks with indiiFerence on the happiness or misery of others, unless where interest or vanity makes the exception, — and that whilst we profess to believe in a future state, we yet think and act as if our expec- tations and desires never stretched beyond this scene of transitory existence, — ^if all this be admitted, surely it must also be ad- mitted that some remedy is most desirable. And when we consider that the root of all these evils is in the heart, — that the very first principles of our moral nature are cor- rupted, — that the current of our wills is different from that of God's, — and that whilst this difference continues, we must be unhappy, or, at best, most insecure of our enjoyment, in whatever region our lot of existence is cast, — the necessity of some powerful health-restoring antidote will ap- pear still more imperious. And can we think it improbable, that a gracious God . would meet this necessity, and reveal this antidote ? We have advanced a consider- able step when we have admitted this pro- bability. And when we see a system such as Christianity, asserting to itself a divine 165 (wriginal — tending most distinctly to the eradication of moral evil — ^harmonizing so beautifully with the most enlightened views of the character of God, and adapted so wonderfully to the capacities of man, — does not the probability amount to an assurance that God has indeed made a movement to- wards man, and that such an antidote is indeed contained in the truth of the gos- pel? There are few minds darkened or hard- ened to such a degree, that they cannot dis- cern between moral good and evil. Hence it happens that the pure morality of the gospel is generally talked of with praise ; and this is all : They admire the dial-plate of the timepiece, and the accurate division of its circle ; whilst they altogether pass over that nice adjustment of springs and weights which give its regulated movement to the index : They see not the Divine wisdom of the doctrines, which can alone embody that pure morality in the charac- ters of those who receive them. Exactly from the same inadvertence, it is sometimes asked, " Why so urgent with these abstruse and mysterious doctrines? 166 It is, to be sure, very decent and proper to believe them : But the character is the great point ; and if that be reformed, we need not care much about the means," These persons do not consider, that though it may be comparatively easy to restrain the more violent eruptions of those dispo- sitions which are mischievous to society, it is no easy matter to plant in the heart the love of God, which is the first and greatest moral precept of Christianity. They do not consider that the character is in the mind ; and that this character must receive its denomination of good or bad, according as it capacitates its possessor for happiness or misery, when in direct contact with the character of God. The obedience of the will and of the heart is required ; and this implies in it a love for those holy principles in which the rule of duty is founded. A mere knowledge of duty, even when joined with a desire to fulfil it, can never inspire this love. We cannot love any thing, by simply endeavouring to love it : In order to this, we must see somewhat in it which naturally attracts our affections. What- ever this somewhat may be, it constitutes 167 the doctHne which forms our characters on that particular subject. This law holds in all such operations of the mind ; but most conspicuously does it hold where the natu- ral bent of the inclination takes an oppo- site course, — as in the case of Christian duty. Duty must be presented to our minds, as associated with circumstances which will call forth our love, — as associated witli the impulses of esteem, of gratitude, and interest, — else we can never love it. These circumstances constitute the Chris- tian doctrines; and the reasonableness of con- tinually and closely urging them, is founded on that law of the human mind which has been alluded to. It is not easy to cast out pride and self-conceit from the heart, nor to look upon the distresses of life with a cheerful acquiescence in that sovereign will which appoints them. It is not easy for a mind which has been much engrossed by its outward relations to the visible system with which it is connected, to receive and retain a practical impression, that there is, throughout the universe, one great spiritu- al and invisible dominion, to which all these lesser systems are subservient, and in which 168 they are embraced ; and that these are but schools and trainir^ seminaries in which immortal spirits are placed, that they may learn to know and to do the will of God, It is not a mere knowledge of duty which will enable us to resist the noxious impres- sions which are continually emanating from the objects of our senses, and from the re- lations of life — to disregard the pressing temptations of ambition or indolence, of avarice or sensuality — to expel those worldly anxieties which corrode the soul — and to run the way of God's commandments, through difficulties and dangers, through evil report and good report. These things require a more energetic principle than tlie knowledge, even when conjoined with the approbation of what is right. The love of God must be rooted in the heart ; and this can only be accomplished by habitually viewing him in all the amiableness of his love and of his holiness. We must ac- quaint ourselves with God; for it is the knowledge of his high character alone which can humble the pride of man, or throw light on the obscurities of his condi- tion here, or call forth that sentiment of 169 devoted love which will stamp the Divine image on his heart ; and it is a conformity to that character alone which can make us freemen of the universe, and secure to us tranquillity and joy in every region of crea- tion ; because this conformity of character is the living principle of union which per- vades and binds together the whole family of God, and capacitates the meanest of its members for partaking in the blessedness of their common Father. •It should be observed, that when confor- mity to the Divine character is mentioned as the result of a belief of the Christian doctrine, it is very far from being meant that the conformity will be perfect, or that the character will be free from failings, or even considerable faults : All that is meant is, that the principle which will produce a perfect conformity is there. Thus we may say that a child has a conformity to his father's will, if he is strongly attached to him, and is sincerely anxious to please him, although levity or passion may occasionally carry him oflP from his duty. This is only the budding- time of Christianity ; eternity is the clime in which the flower blows. If I 170 it were perfected here, there would be no occasion for death, — this world would be heaven. When we talk of love towards an invi- sible being, we evidently mean love to the principles of his character. Love to God, therefore, implies a knowledge of his cha- racter ; and thus, if in our idea of God, we exclude his holiness and justice and purity, and then give our affection to the remain- ing fragments of his character, we do not in fact love God, but a creature of our own imagination. It is a love of the w^hole, which can alone produce a resemblance of the whole ; and nothing short of this love can produce such a resemblance. If this w^orld bounded our existence, there would be little occasion for these heavenly views ; because the order of society can in general be tolerably preserved by human laws, and the restraint of human opinion ; and for the few years which we have to pass here, this is sufficient : But if we are placed here to become fitted for eternity, we must know- God, and love him, in order that w^e may have pleasure in his presence, and in the manifestations of his will. 171 There is an important part of the sub- ject still untouched, which is intimately connected with the principle of the prece- ding argument, and is most deserving of a full and minute consideration : I mean the harmony which subsists between the views of the Bible, and that system of events wiiich is moving on around us. On this point, however, I shall only make a very few general observations. If we look on this world as a school in which the principles of the Bible are incul- cated and exercised, we shall find that the whole apparatus is admirably fitted for the purpose. As adventures of danger are adapted to exercise and confirm the prin- ciple of intrepidity, so the varied events of life are adapted to exercise and confirm the principles of the Christian character. The history of the world, and our own experi- ence of it, present to us as it were a scene of shifting sand, without a single point on which we may reasonably rest the full weight of our hopes with perfect confidence. The gospel presents to us, on the other hand, the unchangeable character of God, and invites us to rest there. The object 172 of our hope becomes the mould of our char- acters ; and happiness consists in a charac- ter conformed to that of God. But there is a constant tendency in our minds to oc- cupy themselves with the uncertain and unsatisfactory things which are seen, to the exclusion of that secure good which is un- seen. Pain, disappointment, and death, are therefore sent to awaken us to reflection, — to warn us against reposing on a shadow, which will stamp on us its own corruptible and fleeting likeness,- — and to invite us to flx our feet on that substantial rock which cannot fail. The happiness which God in- tends for men (according to the Bible) con- sists in a particular form of character ; and that character can only be wrought out by trials and difficulties and afflictions. If this were practically remembered, it would associate in our minds the sorrows of life with solid happiness and future glory. Every event, of whatever description it be, would appear to us as an opportunity of exercising and strengthening some princi- ple which contains in itself the elements of happiness. This consideration would swal- low up, or at least very much abate, the de- 173 jection or exultation which the external form of the event is calculated to excite, and produce cheerful and composed acqui- escence in the appointments of Providence. ** In every thing give thanks ; for this (event, whether prosperous or adverse) is the will of God in Christ Jesus towards you." It forms a part of that system of wisdom and love, of which the gift of Christ is the prominent feature and the great spe- cimen. Christ was given to bring men near to God, and every part of the system of Providence is ordered with the same de- sign. The Captain of our salvation was " a man of sorrows, and acquainted with griefs ;" and whilst his wisdom appoints the medicinal sorrow, his heart sympathizes with the sufferer. His sufferings were not only endured in satisfaction of Divine jus- tice, — they also serve as a pattern of the way by which God leads those real sinners whom the sinless Saviour represented, unto holiness. When two of his disciples asked him for the chief places in his kingdom, the nature of which they had much mis- taken, he answered them, " Can ye drink of the cup which I drink of, and can ye be 174 baptised with the baptism which I am bap- tised with?" — thus teaching, that as his own way to glory lay through sorrows, so theirs did also. His road and his glory were the patterns of theirs. Not that hap- piness and glory are given as an arbitrary premium for having suffered, but that the character which has been most exercised and refined by affliction contains a greater proportion of the constituent elements of happiness and glory. Neither are we to suppose that afflictions necessarily produce this character : Indeed, the effect in many cases is the very reverse. But afflictions are important opportunities of acquiring and growing in this character ; which, as they cannot be neglected without danger, so they cannot be improved according to the directions of the gospel without leading to a blessed result. The continual presence of God watching over the progress of his own work, and observing the spirit in which his creatiures receive their appointed trials, is a great truth, which, if believed and re- membered, would both excite to cheerful and grateful action, and would comfort un» der any sorrow. 175 Every event affords opportunities of ex- ercising love to God or man, humility, or heavenly-mindedness; and thus every event may be made a step towards heaven : So that, if we were asked what sort of a thea- tre the principles of the gospel required for its effectual operation on a being like man, it would be impossible to devise any which would appear even to our reason so suitable as the world which w^e see around us. Were the gospel different, or were man different, another theatre might be better ; but w^iilst the human heart remains as it is, we re- quire just such a process as that which is carried on here, for working the principles of the gospel into our moral constitutions. We know, besides, that the Christian cha- racter is adapted to the events of life ; be- cause it would produce happiness under those events, whatever they might be. Thus it appears, that the heart of man, the Bible, and the course of Providence, have a mutual adaptation to each other ; and hence we may conclude, that they pro- ceed from the same source, — we may con- clude, that the same God who made man, and encompassed him with the trials of 176 life, gave the Bible to instruct him how these trials might be made subservient to his eternal happiness. The world then is a theatre for exercising and strengthening principles. Its events operate on the moral seeds in the human mind, as the elements of nature, heat, moisture, and air, do on vegetable seeds. They develop their qualities, they foster them into life and energy, they bring forth into full display all their capacities of evil and good — but they do the same office to poisonous and useless seeds as to the most excellent. How careful then ought we to be that the moral principles of our minds should be of the right kind! Poisonous plants are native to this soil, whilst the immortal seed of divine truth is an exotic, from a more genial clime. But if this course of discipline be so necessary, for the growth and conformation of the truth in the heart, then the gospel may appear to be exclusively addressed to those who have a series of years and exercises before them. In what form can it approach a deathbed ? What has the Bible to say to a man within an hour of eternity, who has either never 177 heard, or never attended, to the message of peace ? In fact, it speaks the same language to him that it does to the youth just enter- ing on the career of life — the same glad tidings are proclaimed to sinners of all ages — of all conditions, and in all circumstan- ces ; " This is the testimony that God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in his Son." — Although happiness is neces- sarily connected with, or more properly is identical with, that holiness which the be- lief of the truth induces ; yet pardon and acceptance are not the consequences of a change of character, they are the free gift of God, through Jesus Christ ; and that they are so, enters into the very substance of that record which we are called on to believe, as the testimony of God. The judicial sentence against sin has been executed, and the honour of the di- vine law has been vindicated, by a deed of unutterable love, which claims from men the most grateful and reposing confidence in the reality of that mercy, and the in- violableness of that truth, which, amidst, the agonies of death, declared the work of reconciliation accomplished. The belief of 12 178 this transaction, if full and perfect, would at once, and instantaneously, change the heart into a conformity with the will of God, which is the character of heaven, without which heaven could be no place of happiness. It is the weakness, the defi- ciency, and unsettledness of this belief, which makes the transformation of the heart, in general, so tardy a process. The tardiness does not, however, belong to the nature of the truth, but to the mode of its reception. And that Spirit, which is mighty in operation, can open the spiritual eye at the last moment to perceive the excellency of the Saviour, and thus cause the young germ of glory to burst forth at once into full and vigorous life. Very sudden and unexpected changes of character do sometimes take place in the history of this world's moralities; and it may perhaps assist our conception, to ad- duce an example of this kind in illustration of that higher and more important change which we are at present considering. Mr Foster, in his " Essay on Decision of Cha- racter," gives an account of a man who, from being a perfect prodigal, became all at 179 once a most beggarly miser. Whilst yet a boy he had come to the possession of a large fortune, and before he was of age he contrived to get rid of it by a course of the most profligate extravagance. After his last shilling was gone, his spirits fell, and he went out with the thought of putting an end to his life. Providence directed him to the top of an eminence, from which he could survey every acre which he had so foolishly squandered. Here he sat down, and in bitterness of heart contrasted his former splendour with his present wretch- edness. As he viewed his past life, the absurdity of his conduct appeared to him so glaring, and want appeared so frightful, that he was filled with a loathing for every thing like expense. He instantly formed the resolution of retracing his steps, and recovering his possessions. He descended the hill a thorough miser, and continued so to his death. The principle of penuri- ous and greedy saving had expelled its op- posite, and taken firm hold of his soul ; his character was entirely changed, and his fu- ture life was only a development of the feel- ing acquired in that moment. 180 Now, though the change from one mode of selfishness to another, as in this instance, is a very different thing from the conversion of the heart to God ; yet as the change of character in both cases arises from a real change hi the conviction of the mind as to what is truly good, (from whatever sources of influence these convictions may proceed, whether earthly, as in the one case, or hea- venly, as in the other,) I consider myself entitled to use this analogy as an argument against those who either ridicule sudden conversions as absurd fables, or who con- fine such events to the miraculous period of Christianity. Is it rational to suppose, that a conviction of the love of God— -of the vastness of eternity — of the glory of heaven — of the misery of hell, should be insufficient to produce an instantaneous change of no light nature, when we see so striking a change produced by the compara- tive prospect of wealth or poverty for a few uncertain years ? Shall we suppose that the Spirit of God hath less power than the spirit of Mammon ? or, Does it belong only to things which pass away, to exert a sove- reignty over the springs of the mind ? And 181 are things which abide for ever, to be alone considered as powerless and inefficient? Could we imagine such a thing as a para- dise Jhr miser's under the government of a God, who giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not, we might safely say, that if the young man, whose history we have been contemplating, had dropped down dead as he descended from the eminence which had witnessed his resolution, he would have been fit for a situation there. Nor would his former conduct have debarred him from the full enjoyment of its delights. So when the pardoning mercy of God is per- ceived in its glory and its beauty, it capa- citates the niind immediately, however dark and vile before, for that bliss which it so freely bestows, and girds and prepares the parting traveller for that everlasting king- dom of our Lord and Saviour, an entrance into which it so abundantly ministers, even though this may be the first look he has ever cast towards that happy land, and the last look he takes of aught until the body returns to the dust, and the spirit to him who gave it. The Bible never shuts out hope : and in 182 the example of the thief on the cross, it in- vites the dying sinner to look, that he may live for ever. But the Bible never en- courages the negligent, nor the presumptu- ous — it warns of the uncertainty of life and opportunity, and it exhibits the difficulty of overcoming settled habits of sin, under the similitude of the leopard changing his spots, or the Ethiopian his skin. In truth, every hour of delay makes this change more difficult and improbable, — ^because every hour is giving growth and strength to principles of an opposite description ; he is grieving and despising the Holy Spi- rit, and is making a dark league with hel], which is gaining validity and ratification by every act in accordance with it I 183 SECTION VI. I HAVE already explained two causes why spiritual Christianity is so much opposed, and so rarely received with true cordiality amongst men. The first is, that its uncom- promising holiness of principle arms against it all the corruptions of our nature : The second is, that it rarely gains an attentive and full consideration, so as to be appre- hended in all its bearings, both in relation to the character of God and its influence on the heart of man. I shall now mention another circum- stance, nearly connected with the second of these causes, which often opposes the pro- gress of true religion. Many persons, in their speculations on Christianity, never get farther than the miracles which were wrought in confirma- tion of its divine authority. Those who re- ject them are called infidels, and those who admit them are called believers ; and yet, 184 after all, there may be very little difference between them. A belief of the miracles narrated in the New Testament, does not constitute the faith of a Christian. These miracles merely attest the authority of the messenger, — they are not themselves the message ; They are like the patentee's name on a patent medicine, which only attests its genuineness, and refers to the character of its inventor, but does not add to its virtue. Now, if we had such a scientific acquaint- ance with the general properties of drugs, that from examining them we could pre- dict their effects, then we should, in form- ing our judgment of a medicine, trust to our own analysis of its component parts, as well as to the inventor's name on the out- side ; and if the physician whose name it bore was a man of acknowledged eminence in his profession, we should be confirmed in our belief that it was really his inven- tion, and not the imposture of an empiric, by observing that the skill displayed in its composition was worthy of the character of its assigned author, and that it was well suited to the cases which it was proposed to remedy. And even though the name 185 should be somewhat soiled, so as to be with difficulty deciphered, yet if the skill were distinctly legible, we should not hesitate to attribute it to a man of science, nor should we scruple to use it ourselves, on its own evidence, if our circumstances required such an application. If Alexander the Great could, by his own skill, have discovered, in the cup pre- sented to him by Philip, certain natural causes restorative of health, his confidence in the fidelity of his physician would have had a powerful auxiliary in his own know- ledge of the subject. The conviction of his friend's integrity was, in his case, however, sufficient by itself to overcome the suspi- cions of Parmenio. But if, by his own knowledge, he had detected any thing in the cup which appeared to him decidedly noxious, his confidence in his friend would have only led him to the conclusion, that this cmp was really not prepared by him, but that some traitor, unobserved by him, had infused a poisonous ingredient in it. In like manner, if we discern that har- mony in the Christian revelation which is the stamp of God upon it, we shall find 186 little difficulty in admitting that external evidence by which he attested it to the world. And even though our opportunities or acquirements do not qualify us for fol- lowing the argument in support of miracles, yet if we are convinced that the remedial virtue of its doctrines suits the necessities and diseases of our nature, we will not he- sitate to assign it to the Great Physician of souls as its author, nor will we scruple to use it for our own spiritual health. No one who knows what God is, will re- fuse to receive a system of doctrines which he really believes was communicated by God : But then, no one in the right exer- cise of his reason, can, by any evidence, be brought to believe that what appears to him an absolute absurdity, did ever in truth come from God. At this point, the impor- tance of the internal evidence of revelation appears most conspicuous. If any intelli- gent man has, from hasty views of the sub- ject, received the impression that Christi- anity is an absurdity, or contains absurdi- ties, he is in a condition to examine the most perfect chain of evidence in its sup- port, with the simple feeling of astonish- 187 ment at the ingenuity and the fallability of the human understanding. On a man in this state of mind, all arguments drawn from external evidence are thrown away. The thing which he wants is to know that the subject is worth a demonstration ; and this can only be learned by the study of the Bible itself. Let him but give his unpre- judiced attention to this book, and he will discover that there is contained in it the de- velopment of a mighty scheme, admirably fitted for the accomplishment of a mighty purpose : He will discover that this pur- pose is no less than to impart to man the happiness of God, by conforming him to the character of God : And he will observe with delight and with astonishment, that the grand and simple scheme by which this is accomplished, exhibits a system of moral mechanism, which, by the laws of our men- tal constitution, has a tendency to produce that character, as directly and necessarily as the belief of danger has to produce alarm, the belief of kindness to produce gratitude, or the belief of worth to produce esteem. He will discern, that this moral mechanism bears no mark of imposture or delusion, but 188 consists simply in a manifestation of the moral character of God, accommodated to ■ the understandings and hearts of men.^ And lastly, he will perceive that this mani- \ festation only gives life and palpability to / that vague though sublime idea of the Su- ^, preme Being, which is suggested by en- lightened reason and conscience. When a man sees all this in the Bible, his sentiment will be, " I shall examine the evidence in support of the miraculous his- tory of this book ; and I cannot but hope to find it convincing : But even should I be left unsatisfied as to the continuity of the chain of evidence, yet of one thing I am persuaded, — it has probed the disease of the human heart to the bottom ; it has laid bare the source of its aberration from moral good and true happiness ; and it has propounded a remedy which carries in itself the proof of its efficiency. The cause seems worthy of the interposition of God : He did once certainly display his own direct and immediate agency in the creation of the world ; and shall I deem it inconsistent with his gracious character, that he has made another immediate mani- 189 festation of himself in a work which had for its object the restoration of innumerable .immortal spirits to that eternal happiness, from which, by their moral depravation, they had excluded themselves ?" The external evidence is strong enough, if duly considered, to convince any man of any fact which he has not in the first place shut out from 'the common privilege of proof, by pronouncing it to be an impossi- bility. This idea of impossibility, when attached to the gospel, arises generally, as was before observed, from some mistaken notion respecting the matter contained in it. A very few remarks may be sufficient to show that this is the case. Those w^ho hold this opinion do not mean to say ahso- lutely that it is impossible to suppose, in consistency with reason, that God ever would make a direct manifestation of his own immediate agency in any case w^hat- ever ; because this would be in the very face of their own general acknowledgments with regard to the creation of the world : They must therefore be understood to mean no more, than that, considering the object and structure of Christianity, it is unrea- 190 sonable to suppose that it could be the sub- ject of a direct interposition from Heaven. We are thus brought precisely to the ar- gument which it has been the intention of this Essay to illustrate. ^_X Now, if we suppose that it was one of / the objects of the Creator, in the formation S of the world, to impress upon his intelli- gent creatures an idea of his moral charac- ter — or, in other words, to teach them na- tural religion (and that it was one of his objects, we may presume, from its having in some measure had this effect), — it fol- lows, that a direct and immediate agency on the part of God, is closely connected with the design of manifesting his moral character to man ; and we may expect to meet these two things linked together in I the system of God's government. If, \ therefore, the gospel contains a most vivid / and impressive view of the Divine charac- ' ter, harmonizing with the revelation of na- tm*e, but far exceeding it in fulness and in / power, are we to be surprised at an inter- N position in its behalf of the same agency which was once before exhibited for a simi- {lar purpose ? Thus, the object of the gos- 191 pel, and its adaptation to that object, be- . come the great arguments for its truth ; ^ and those who have not studied it in this relation, are not competent judges of the question. Indeed, if we take the truth of ^. the gospel for granted, we must infer that this distinct and beautiful adaptation of its means to its end, was intended by its Divine Author as its chief evidence ; since he must have foreseen that not one out of a hundred who should ever hear of it could ) either have leisure or learning to weigh its ( external evidence. And this will explain / a great deal of infidelity ; for freethinkers '\ in general are not acquainted with the sub- \ stance of revelation ; and thus they neglect that very point in it on which God himself rested its probability, and by which he in- vites belief. There may be also, for any thing that the reasoners of this w orld know^, cycles in the moral world as well as in the natural ; there may be certain moral conjunctures, which, by the divine appointment, call for a manifestation of direct agency from the great First Cause; and in this view, a miraculous interposition, though posterior 192 to the creation, cannot be considered as an infringement of the original scheme of things, but as a part, and an essential part of it. When the world was less advanced in natural science than it is at present, a comet was considered an infringement on the original plan. And the period may arrive, and will assuredly arrive, when the spirits of just men made perfect shall dis- cern as necessary a connexion between the character of God and all the obscurities of his moral government in our world, as the philosopher now discerns between the properties of matter and the movements of the various bodies belonging to our plane- tary system. If the gospel really was a communica- I tion from heaven, it was to be expected that it would be ushered into the world by a miraculous attestation. It might have been considered as giving a faithful de- lineation of the Divine character, although it had not been so attested ; but it could / never have impressed so deep a conviction, V nor have drawn such reverence from the / minds of men, had it not been sanctioned by credentials which could come from none 193 other than the King of kings. As this conviction and this reverence were neces- sary to the accomplishment of its moral object, the miracles v^^hich produced them were also necessary. Under the name of miraculous attestations, I mean merely those miracles which were extrinsic to the gospel, and did not form an essential part of it ; for the greatest miracles of all — namely, the conception, resurrection, and ascension of our Lord — constitute the very substance of the Divine communication, and are essential to the development of that Divine character which gives to the gospel its whole importance. The belief of the miraculous attestation of the gospel, then, is just so far useful as it excites our reverence for and fixes our attention on the truth contained in the gospel. All the promises of the gospel are to faith in the gospel, and to those moral qualities which faith produces ; and we can^ not believe that which we do not under- stand. We may believe that there is more in a thing than we can understand ; or we may believe a fact, the causes or modes of which we do not understand ; but our ac- K } 194 tual belief is necessarily limited by our ac- tual understanding. Thus, we understand what we say when we profess our belief that^God became man, although we do not understand how. This hoiv^ therefore, is not the subject of belief; because it is not the subject of understanding. We, however, understand wlnj^ — namely, that sinners might be saved, and the Divine character made level to our capacities ; and therefore this is a subject of belief. In fact, we can as easily remember a thing which we never knew, as believe a thing that we do not understand. In order, then, to believe the gospel, we must understand it ; and in or- der to understand it, w^e must give it our serious attention. An admission of the truth of its miraculous attestation, unac- companied with a knowledge of its princi- ples, serves no other purpose than to give a most mournful example of the extreme levity of the human mind. It is an ac- knowledgment that the Almighty took such a fatherly interest in the affairs of men, that he made a direct manifesta- tion of himself in this world, for their instruction ; and yet they feel no concern 195 upon the subject of this instruction. Never- theless, they say, and perhaps think, that they believe the gospel. One of the mira- culous appearances connected with our Saviour's ministry places this matter in a very clear light. When, on the Mount of Transfiguration, he for a short time antici- pated the celestial glory in the presence of three of his disciples, a voice came from Heaven saying, " This is my beloved Son ; hear ye himr He was sent to tell men something which they did not know. Those therefore, who believed the reality of this miraculous appearance, and yet did not listen to what he taught, rejected him on the very ground on which it was of prime importance that they should receive him. The regeneration of the character is the grand object ; and this can only be effect- ed by the pressure of the truth upon the mind. Our knowledge of this truth must be accurate, in order that the image im- pressed upon the heart may be correct; but we must also know it in all the awful- ness of its authority, in order that the im- pression may be deep and lasting. Its mo- tives must be ever operating on us — its re* 196 presentations ever recurring to us — its hopes ever animating us. This will not relax, but rather increase our diligence in the business of life. When we are engaged in the service of a friend, do we find that the thought of that friend and of his kind- ness retards our exertions ?— No. And when we consider all the business of life as work appointed to us by our Father, we shall be diligent in it for his sake. In fact, however clearly we may be able to state the subject, and however strenuous we may be in all the orthodoxy of its de- fence^ there must be some flaw in our view of it, if it remains only a casual or an un- influential visitor of our hearts. Its in- terests are continually pressing; eternity is every moment coming nearer ; and our characters are hourly assuming a form more decidedly connected with the extreme of happiness or misery. In such circum- stances, trifling is madness. The profes- sed infidel is a reasonable man in compari- son with him who admits the Divine in- spiration of the gospel, and yet makes it a secondary object of his solicitude. The Monarch of the Universe has pro- 197 claimed a general amnesty of rebellion, whether we give or withhold our belief or our attention ; and if an amnesty were all that we needed, our belief or our attention would probably never have been required. Our notions of pardon and punishment are taken from our experience of human laws. We are in the habit of considering punish- ment and transgression as two distinct and separate things, which have been joined together by authority, and pardon as no- thing more than the dissolution of this arbitrary connexion. And so it is amongst men ; but so it is not in the world of spirits. Sin and punishment there are one thin^. {Sin is a disease of the mind which neces- sarily occasions misery ; and therefore the pardon of sin, unless it be accompanied ■ vnth some remedy for this disease, cannot relieve from misery. f This remedy, as I have endeavoured to ) explain, consists in the attractive and sanc- tifying influence of the Divine character ; manifested in Jesus Christ. Pardon is \ preached through him, and those who real- / ly believe are healed ; for this belief im- plants in the heart the love of God and 198 the love of man, which is only another ^name for spiritual health. Carelessness, [ then, comes to the same thing as a decided infidelity. It matters little in what parti- cular way, or on what particular grounds, we put the gospel from us. If we do put it from us either by inattention or rejec- tion, we lose all the benefits which it is fitted to bestow ; whilst, on the other hand, he who does receive it, receives along with it all those benefits, whether his belief has originated from the external evidence, or simply from the conviction of guilt and the desire of pardon, and the discovery that the gospel meets his necessities as a weak and sinful creature, — Just as a voy- ager gains all the advantage of the informa- tion contained in his chart, whatever the evidence may have been on which he at first received it. This last illustration may explain to us why God should have declared Juit/i to be the channel of all his mercies to his intelli- gent creatures. The chart is useless to the voyager, unless he believes that it is really a description of the ocean which he has to pass, with all its boundaries and rocks and 199 shoals and currents; and the gospel is use- less to man, unless he believes it to be a description of the character and will of that Great Being on whom his eternal interests depend. Besides, the nature of the gospel required such a reception in another point of view: It was necessary to its very object, that its blessings should be distinctly mark- ed out to be of free and unmerited bounty. When we speak of benefits freely bestowed, we say of them, " You may have them by asking for them," — distinguishing them by this mode of expression as gifts, from those things for which we must give a price. Precisely the same idea is conveyed by the gospel declaration, " Believe, and ye shall be saved." When it is asked. How am I to obtain God's mercy ? the gospel answers, that " God has already declared himself reconciled through Jesus Christ; so you may have it by believing it." Faith, there- fore, according to the gospel scheme, both marks the freeness of God's mercy, and is the channel through which that mercy ope- rates on the character. It has been my object, throughout this Essay, to draw the attention of the reader 200 to the internal structure of the religion of the Bible, — first, because I am convinced that no man in the unfettered exercise of his understanding can fully and cordially acquiesce in its pretensions to Divine in- spiration, until he sees in its substance that which accords both with the character of God and with the wants of man ; and se- condly, because any admission of its Divine original, if unaccompanied with a know- ledge of its principles, is absolutely useless. We generally find, that the objections which are urged by sceptics against the in- spiration of the Bible, are founded on some apparent improbability in the detached parts of the system. These objections are often repelled by the defenders of Christianity as irrelevant; and the objectors are referred to the unbroken and well- supported line of testimony in confirmation of its miraculous history. This may be a silencing argument, but it will not be a convincing one. The true way of answering such objections, when seriously and honestly made, seems to me to consist in showing the relation which these detached parts bear to the other parts, and then in explaining the harmony 201 and efficiency of the whole system. When a man sees the fulness and beauty of this harmony, he will believe that the system of Christianity is in truth the plan of the Di- vine government, whether it has actually been revealed in a miraculous way or not ; and if he finds that the fact of its being in- spired really enters into the substance of the system, and is necessary to it, he will be disposed to believe that too. Let us suppose a man brought from the heart of Africa, perfectly ignorant of the discoveries of Europe, but of excellent parts : Let him be fully instructed in all the mathematical and physical knowledge connected with the Newtonian philosophy, but without having the system of astrono- my communicated to him ; and then let us suppose that his instructor should announce to him that most perfect and most beauti- ful of human discoveries under the name of a direct revelation from Heaven. The simplicity and the grandeur of the theory would fill his imagination, and fasten his attention ; and as he advanced in the more minute consideration of all its bearings, the full and accurate agreement of its principles 202 with all the phenomena of the heavenly bodies, would force on his mind a convic- tion of its truth. He may then he supposed to say to his instructor, " I believe that you have unfolded to me the true system of the material universe, whether you are really under the influence of inspiration or not. Indeed, the most thorough belief in your pretensions could scarce add an iota to my conviction of the truth of your demonstra- tion. I see a consistency in the thing it- self, which excludes doubting." We judge of the probability or impro- bability of a new idea, by comparing it with those things which we are already acquaint- ed with, and observing how it fits in with them. The complete fitting-in of the astro- nomical system with facts already observed, is the ground of our belief .in its truth. The materials of the system lie around us in the appearances of nature ; and we are delighted to find an intelligible principle which will connect them all. If a person has paid no attention to these appearances, he will feel proportionally little interest in the discovery of a connecting principle ; be- cause he has not felt that uneasiness of 203 mind which is produced by the observation of unexplained facts. A certain degree of education is necessary to excite this uneasy curiosity ; and therefore both its pains and its pleasures are confined to a very limited number. But when the facts to be explain- ed are connected with a deep and universal moral interest, and when the most ordinary powers of thinking are equal to the intel- lectual exertion which is required, there can be no limitation either of the number of the students or of the intensity of the excitement, except in consequence of the most lamentable carelessness. The materials of the Christian system lie thick about us. They consist in the feelings of our own hearts, in the history of ourselves and of our species, and in the in- timations which we have of God from his works and ways, and the judgments and anticipations of conscience. We feel that we are not unconcerned spectators of these things. We are sure, that if there be a principle which can explain and connect them all together, it must be a most im- portant one for us ; it must determine our everlasting destiny. It is evident that this 204 master-principle can exist nowhere but in the character of God. He is the universal Ruler, and he rules according to the prin- ciples of his own character. The Christian system accordingly consists in a develop- ment of the Divine character ; and as the object of this development is a practical and moral one, it does not linger long to gratify a speculative curiosity, but hastes forward to answer that most interesting of all in- quiries, " What is the road to permanent happiness ?" This question holds the same rank in moral questions, and enters as deep- ly into the mystery of God's spiritual go- vernment, as the corresponding question, " What law regulates and retains a planet in its orbit ?" does in the natural world. If a planet had a soul and a power of choice, and if, by wandering from its bright path, it incurred the same perplexities and difficulties and dangers that man does when he strays from God, — and if the laws which directed its motions were addressed to its mind, and not, as impulses, on its material substance, — its inquiry, after it had left its course, would also be, " How shall I regain my orbit of peace and of glory ?" The an- 205 swer to this question would evidently con- tain in it the whole philosophy of astrono- my, as far as the order of its system was concerned. In like manner, the answer to the inquiry after spiritual and permanent happiness, embraces all the principles of the Divine government as far as man is con- cerned. The answer to the planet v^ould contain a description of its proper curve : But this is not enough, — the method of regaining it and continuing in it must be also explained. We may suppose it to be thus addressed, — " Keep your eye and your thoughts fixed on that bright luminary, to whose generous influences you owe so many blessings. Your order, your splendour, your fertility, all pro- ceed from your relation to him. When that relation is infringed, these blessings disap- pear. Your experience tells you this. Re- trace, then, your steps, by recalling to your grateful remembrance his rich and liberal kindness. This grateful and dependent af- fection is the golden chain which binds you to your orbit of peace and of glory." To man's inquiry after permanent hap- piness, an answer is given to the same pur- 206 pose. The path of duty and of happiness is marked out in such precepts as the follow- ing : " Thou shalt love the Lord thy Gk)d with all thine heart and soul and mind and strength, and thy neighbour as thy- self;" " Glorify God in your bodies and your spirits, which are God's ;" " Be not conformed to this world, but be ye trans- formed by the renewing of your minds, that ye may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God." But this is not enough. JNIan has wandered from this good path, and in wandering from it, he has come under the influence of base attractions, which draw away his will in opposition to the testimony of his con- science, and the acknowledgments of his un- derstanding. To overcome these mislead- ing influences, the gospel introduces an at- tracting principle, most holy in its nature and most constraining in its power. It re- veals to him the full danger of his wander- ings, but it reveals also to him the full mercy and loveliness of his God. It de- clares that God so loved the world, as to give his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Hira should not perish, but 207 have everlasting life — and that Christ hath redeemed us from the condemnation of the law, having endured that condemnation in our stead — and that, on as many as receive Him, he confers the privilege of heing the sons of God. This is the great truth, for the manifestation and development of which this world was created, and is pre- served — and this it is, which, when per- ceived in all its vast reality by the light of the Holy Spirit, transforms the slave of sin into a child of God, and an heir of im- mortal glory. And any one who humbly and candidly considers the Divine charac- ter of love and of holiness which is deve- loped in the history of Jesus Christ, will discover in it the true centre of moral gra- vitation — the Sun of Kighteousness, set in the heavens to drive darkness and chaos from our spiritual system, and by its sweet and powerful influence to attract the wan- dering affections of men into an orbit, ap- pointed by the will and illumined by the favour of God. According to this system, a grateful and humble affection towards God, founded on a knowledge of his true character, is the principle of order and of 208 happiness in the moral world. The confu- sion and the restlessness which we see in the world, and which we often experience in our own breasts, give abundant testi- mony to the truth of this proposition in its negative form. Ignorance and indifference about the character of God generally pre- vail ; we love the creature more than the Creator — the gifts more than the giver-— our own inclinations more than his will. The wind is sown, and can we wonder that the whirlwind is reaped ? And is it not evident to reason, that an entire conformity to the Ruling Will of the universe, is only another name for order and happiness ? and can this conformity be produced in any ra- tional being, except by a knowledge and a love of that will ? The character of God is manifested in the history of Jesus Christ, for our knowledge and for our love. This manifestation harmonizes with the sugges- tions of reason and conscience on the sub- ject : Nay more, it gathers them up, as they lie before the mind in detached frag- ments; it supplies their deficiencies, and unites them all in one glorious fabric of perfect symmetry and beauty. It meets 209 t^e heart of man, in all its capacities and affections ; its appeal is exactly shaped for the elementary principles of our nature. The glorious truth which it reveals is adapt- ed to every mind ; it is intelligible to a diild, and yet will dilate the understanding of an angel. As the understanding en- larges, this truth still grows upon it, and must for ever grow upon it, because it is the image of the infinite God. Yet, great as it is, it is fitted to produce its effect, wherever it is received, however limited the capacity into which it enters. The principle of the wedge operates as fully at the first stroke as at any subsequent one, although the effect is not so apparent. I have endeavoured, in the course of these remarks, to give an idea of the mode which seems to me best fitted for illustra- ting the harmony which subsists between the Christian system and the mass of moral facts which lie without us and within us. 1 have endeavoured to explain the great- ness of its object, and its natural fitness for the accomplishment of that object. He who has not given his earnest attention to^ 210 these things, may call himself an infidel, or a believer, but he has yet to learn what that doctrine is which he rejects or admits. There is nothing new in this cursory sketch of Christian doctrines. Indeed, I should conceive a proof of novelty on such a subject as tantamount to a proof of error. But I think that the view here taken has not been sufficiently pressed as an argu- ment in favour of the credibility of revela- tion ; for, although an indirect kind of evidence in itself, it seems well fitted for preparing and disposing an unbeliever to examine with candour the more direct proof which arises from historical testimony. And it may also perform the no less im- portant office of infusing into a nominal Christian, a doubt as to his sincerity in the profession of a faith which has per- haps neither made a distinct impression on his understanding, nor touched his heart, nor affiscted his character. THE END. W'iUium Aitken, Printer, JU^dinlursh* 211 C^ In the 28th page there is a proposition which has heen subjected to considerable censure, and not without justice as it has been understood. The pro- position is, " That the facts of Christianity are no- thing more than the abstract principles of natural religion, embodied in perspicuity and efficiency." ' Had I meant by this, that the facts of Christianity could have been anticipated by any one who was ac- quainted with the principles of natural religion— or that no new information was communicated by the gospel, I should have been opposing the claim, and giving up the importance of revelation. Man never could have discovered the plan of salvation; but af- ter it is revealed, he can perceive its agreement with those principles which had been previously acknow- ledged. That God must always act in consistency with both justice and mercy, the natural religionist believes ; but how these attributes can be brought into harmonious contact in the restoration of the guilty, he knows not. When, however, the doctrine of the cross of Christ is understood by him, he im- mediately recognizes in it, the full maturity and de- velopment of principles which he had known in their elementary seeds. The information of the gospel is new, but not strange. Two recognized attributes of the Deity are manifested in a new connection, but no new attribute is introduced. I should now pre- fer that the proposition had been expressed different- ly, as thus, " That its facts do embody in perspi- cuity and efficiency the abstract principles of natural religion." I am aware also that there is a consider- able vagueness in the term " natural religion ;" but there is no other word for it, and metaphysical ac- curacy is not of much moment here. !.^#* 4 v-^ A- # m UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA UBRARY f? '^s^ U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES 'Xfc^v,^^ X'\, **!.]' -Kf ^^^^^^^2"2^SS3