mv-i ,<)j,j, n "n"n"ir'n"n'fir'B"n"n"n"n' 'hyn'-'ie-lf-Wi'n''^ii'-W-W-W-n=f-'n'-'=^^^-'''^ REESE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. Class Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/discussionsinhisOOfishrich DISCUSSIONS IN HISTOHY AND THEOLOGY By GEORGE P. FISHER, D.D., LL.D., ' TITtrS STREET PROFESSOB OF ECCIiKSIASTICAIi HISTORY IN YAI-E COLLEGE NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 743 AND 745 Broadway . 1880 . RFJ^SE 111 CO CJOPTBIOHT BT OHABLBS SCBIBNEB'S SONS. TbOW'8 PfinmNO AND Bookbinding Compant, ;«}l-ai3 East Twelfth Street, MBW TOBK. / TO MY MOTHER THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. G. P. P. 187464 ■ OF THE ' UNIVERSITY PREFACE. The Essays which are collected in this volume, with a few exceptions, may be classified under three heads. The first group, beginning with the second Essay, com- prises Papers which relate to the history, polity and dogmaS; of the Eoman Catholic Church. The Church of Eome has lately undergone two changes of great moment. The principality which the Pontiffs had ruled for a thousand years, has fallen from their grasp and been absorbed in the new kingdom of Italy ; and the infallibility and supreme " power of jurisdiction" of the Pope have been defined by^ conciliar decree. These new aspects of the Roman Catho- lic system, in their historical relations, and in their bearings on religion and civil society, are among the topics here considered. How the genius and religion of ancient Rome reappear in characteristic features of Latin Christianity, is the subject of one of the Discussions in this series. The second group of Essays relates to 'New England theology. Jonathan Edwards was the pioneer in a move- ment which was carried forward by a succession of theo- logical leaders after him, and involved important modifica-" tions in the philosophy of Calvinism. The character of this movement — the most original in the history of Ameri-; VI PEEFAOE. can theology — and the peculiarities of the principal cory- phaei of the Kew England school, I have attempted impar- tially to describe. While Calvinism took this turn, out of the old Arminianism — which withstood the revivalism of Edwards and Whitefield — in conjunction with other in- fluences, Unitarianism sprang up, in its various types and with its different offshoots. This branch of the religious history of New England is the subject of the Paper on Channing. The third division pertains to Theism and Christian Evidences. In the Essay on Eationalism, the defining characteristic of the rationalistic theory, and its radical as- sumption, are pointed out, and a place is vindicated for the principle of authority in religion. The discourse on Atheism indicates, without elaborately developing, points of argu- ment which appear to me to constitute valid grounds of faith in the personality of God, In the Essay on the Apostle Paul, the threads, intellectual and spiritual, which connect the two portions of his career — separated from one another by the crisis of his conversion — are brought to light, and comments are made on observations of Penan and of Matthew Arnold. The Eeview of Supernatural Heligion examines the, most noteworthy reproduction, in English literature, of the modern attack by the Tubingen criticism upon the genuineness of the canonical Gospels. Among the Essays not included in this classification, one has for its object to trace to its origin the Massacre of St. Bartholomew's Eve, and to sketch the rise and progress of the civil wars in France, down to that epoch ; a second aims to set forth the history of the doctrine of future pun- ishment in the church — in particular, the opinions and prefaoeJ. vu arguments of modem theologians on that subject ; a third describes the position taken bj the Church of England in reference to other Protestant Churches, in the age of the Keformation and subsequently. In the dissertation last mentioned, the relations of the Protestant leaders to one an- other in the different European countries, in the sixteenth century, are incidentally exhibited. G. P. F. ' Kbw Havbn, March so, 1880. CONTENTS PAOX The IVIassacre op St. Bartholomew 1 The Influence of the Old Roman Spirit and Religion on Latin Christianity , 34 The Temporal Kingdom of the Popes 68 The Council of Constance and the Council of the Vatican.. 101 The Office of the Pope and how he is Chosen 141 The Relation of Protestantism and of Romanism to Modern Civilization 161 The Relation op the Church of England to the other Pro- testant Bodies 176 The Philosophy of Jonathan Edwards 227 Channing as a Philosopher and Theologian 253 The System of Dr. N. W. Taylor in its Connection with Prior New England Theology 285 The A.UGUSTINIAN and the Federal Doctrines op Original Sin 355 X CONTENTS. PAQB A Sketch of the History op the Doctrine op Future Pun- ishment 410 Bationalism. 439 The Unreasonableness op Atheism 468 The Apostle Paul 487 The Four Gospels : A Review of " Supernatural Religion." 512 DISCUSSIONS. THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW.* • Frai^^ce, in the age when Protestantism was spreading in Europe, found herself in a place where two seas met. If the ship of state did not go to pieces, like the vessel which threw St. Paul upon the coast of Malta, it had to struggle through a long and frightful tempest from which it barely- escaped. In the other European countries the situation was different. There was intestine discord, but not to the same extent ; or with consequences less ruinous. In Germany, the central authority was too weak to coerce the Lutheran states. The war undertaken by Charles Y. for that purpose was brief, and comparatively bloodless. The final issue was the freedom of the Protestants for a long period, until imperial fanaticism, in the early part of the seventeenth century, brought on the terrible Thirty Years' War, which exhausted what was left of the vitality of the German Empire, and ended in the establishment of Protestant liberties at the Peace of Westphalia (1648). In England, as late as Elizabeth's reign, not less than one-half the population preferred the old Church ; but in the wars of the Roses, the nobles had been decimated, and regal author- ity strengthened ; and the iron will of the Tudor sovereigns, Henry YIII. and Elizabeth, coupled with an inbred hatred of foreign rule, ecclesiastical and secular, and supported by * An Article in The New Englander for January, 1880. 2S THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. the fervent love of a great party to the Protesant faith, kept the nation on one path, and stifled various attempts at insur- rection, which might otherwise have blazed up in civil war. In Scotland, the league of the nobles with the reformers, aided by the follies of Mary Stuart, proved strong enough to uphold against the opposing faction the revolution which had made Calvinism the legal religion of the country. In Sweden, Protestantism speedily triumphed under the popular dynas- ty erected by Gustavus Yasa. In the Netherlands, tliere .was a fierce battle continued for the greater part of a cen- tury; but the contest of Holland was against Spain, to throw off the yoke that she was determined to fasten upon that persecuted and unconquerable race. In Italy and in the Spanish peninsula. Protestantism did not gain strength enough to stand against the revived fanaticism of its adver- sary, and was swept away, root and branch. In general, it may be said that in the north, among the peoples of the Teutonic stock, the preponderance was so greatly on the side of the Protestants, that the shock occa- sioned by the collision of opposing parties was weakened and unity was preserved ; while in the south, among the Eomanic peoples below the Alps and the Pyrenees, the CathoKc cause had a like predominance in a much greater degree, and overwhelmed all opposition. But, as for France, she stood midway between the two mighty currents of opin- ion. Her people belonged, in their lineage and tongue, to the Latin race ; but they had somewhat more of German blood in their veins than their brethren in the south, and — what is much more important — ^by their geographical situ- ation, previous history, and culture, they were made much more sensitive to the influences of what was then modem thought. Yet, France was a powerful and compact monarchy, and seemed better able than any other country to breast the storm. On the 1st of July, 987, Hugh Capet, Count of Paris, elected king by an assembly of nobles, superseded the THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 3 foreign Carlovingian line, and was crowned at Rlieims. From him all the later kings of France — the Bonaparte usurpers alone excepted — the direct Capetian line, the Yalois, Bourbon, and Orleans monarchs, down to the abdication of Louis Philippe, are spnmg.* Out of the dominion of Hugh Capet, the small district known as the Isle of France, of which Paris was the centre, there was built up in the course of centuries, by the accretion of feudal territories, by lucky marriages, by treaties or conquest, the modern kingdom of France. The wars with England which went on, with many intervals, for 250 years — from the end of the twelfth cen- tury to the middle of the fifteenth — resulted at the end of this period, largely through the heroic deeds of Joan of Arc, in the expulsion of the English from every place except the single town of Calais, l^ormandy, Guienne, and all the other territories which had been held by the victors of Creey, Poitiers and Agincourt, who were more than once the almost undisputed masters of France, fell back to their native and rightful owners. Toward the- close of the fif- teenth century, the crafty policy of Louis XL effected the downfall of Charles the Bold, and secured to France the Duchy of Burgundy. From the King of Aragon he ac- quired, on the south, the counties of E-oussillon and Cer- dagne, the last of which was permanently incorporated in France. Anjou, Maine, and Provence reverted to him from the house of Anjou, together with the claims of that family upon [N'aples. Charles YIIL, son of Louis XL, mar- ried Anne, the heiress of Brittany, and so this fine province was added to the jewels of the French Crown. Francis I., who ascended the throne in 1515, two years before the posting of Luther's theses, had a consolidated kingdom powerful enough to enable him, a few years later, to cope on equal terms with his rival, Charles Y. At home, * The Valois line begins with Philip VI. (1328) ; the Bourbon with Henry IV. (1589) ; the Orleans with Louis PhiUppe (1830). 4 THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. he could set at defiance the will of his parliaments, and aug- ment his authority through the Concordat with Pope Leo X., which secured to the king the power of filling bj nomi- nation the great ecclesiastical benefices in his realm. Dur- ing the thirty-two years of his reign, and the twelve years'* reign of his son and successor, Henry II., the Protestants could offer only a passive resistance to the persecution which was instigated and managed by the Sorbonne — the Faculty of Theology at Paris — and which found myriads of brutal agents throughout the land. Francis, and Henry after him, with one arm aided the German Lutherans in their contest with Charles Y., and with the other crushed their French brethren of the same faith. " One king, one law, one faith," was the motto. There must be one and only one religion tolerated in the realm. Yet Protestantism, notwithstand- ing its long roll of martyrs, and partly by means of them, had gained a firm foothold before the death of Henry H. The revival of learning, which in other countries paved the way for the reform in religion, was not without its natu- ral fruit in France. Francis himself was proud of being called the Father of Letters ; cherished the ideas of Erasmus ; founded the college of the three languages at Paris, in spite of the disgust and hostility of the doctors of theology, the champions of mediaevalism ; drew to his side from beyond the Alps men like Leonardo da Yinci, scholars and artists ; protected his sister Margaret in her Protestant predilections ; and contributed not a little, indirectly, notwithstanding his occasional cruelties, to the diffusion of the new doctrine. Henry 11. was more of a bigot ; but he followed his father's policy of joining hands with the Protestant communities of Germany, in opposition to Charles. The first converts to the Reformation in France were Lutherans ; but Lutheranism was supplanted by the other principal type of Protestantism. Calvinism was more con- genial to the French mind. Calvin was himself one of the most acute and cultivated of the Frenchmen of that age. THE MASSACEE OF ST, BARTHOLOMEW. 5 Driven from his country, lie continued to act upon it from Geneva with incalculable power. Geneva became to France what Wittenberg was to Germany. The lucid, logical, con- sistent character of the system of Calvin commended it to the French mind. The intense moral earnestness and strict ethical standard of that system attracted a multitude who were shocked by the almost unexampled profligacy of the age. Among the higher classes, and still more among the industrious and intelligent middle classes, the Calvinistic faith had numerous devoted adherents. In 1559 the Cal- vinists held their first national synod at Paris. Their places of worship, scattered over France, numbered at that time two thousand ; and in their congregations were four hundred thousand worshippers, all of whom met at the risk of their lives. That same year, Heiiry II., who had just agreed with Philip II., in the treaty of Cateau-Cambresis, to exterminate heresy, and to give his daughter in marriage to the Spanish monarch, was accidentally killed by a splinter from the lance of Montgomery, the captain of his guards, with whom he was tilting at the festival in honor of the wedding. The whole posture of affairs was now changed. His old- est son, Francis II., was a boy of sixteen, feeble in mind and body. He was not young enough to be made subject to a regency ; and too yoimg, had he been possessed of talents and character, to rule. Who should govern France ? Cath- erine de Medici, the widow of Henry ; she to whom, more than any other individual, as we shall see, the massacre of St. Bartholomew was due, thought that the power for which she had long waited was now within her grasp. The grand- daughter of the great Lorenzo de Medici, and the daughter of Lorenzo IL, she was left an orphan in her infancy, and was placed in a convent. Her childhood was encompassed with perils. When her uncle, Pope Clement YIL, was lay- ing siege to Florence, in 1530, she being only twelve years old, the council of the city proposed to hang her in a basket over the wall, as a mark for the besiegers' cannon. About 6 THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. ten years after, she was married to Henry, the second son of Francis I., in pursuance of an arrangement between the Pope and the king, which grew mainly out of the king's want of money. The death of the Dauphin placed her hus- band within one step of the throne. She was obliged to pay obsequious com-t to the mistresses of the king and of her husband, the Duchess D'Etampes and Diana of Poitiers. Henry regarded her with a feeling little short of repugnance. Under this feeling, and disappointed that she bore him no children, he entertained, at one time, the thought of sending her back to Italy. This was prevented by her own submis- sive demeanor, and by the favor of Francis I. Later, after the birth of her children, her situation became more toler- able. She professed to be utterly devoted to her husband, mourned his death with real or affected grief, and would never ride or drive near the spot where he received the fatal wound. Catherine de Medici is generally considered an execrable character, an impersonation of the principle of wickedness such as rarely appears on earth, especially in a female form. History has pi^t her in the pillory among monsters of iniqui- ty, like Domitian, Kero, Caesar Borgia, enemies and destroy- ers of their kind. It is hardly possible to dispute the justice of j:his verdict. Yet she was not destitute of attractive quali- ties. On the ceiling of a room in the old Burgundian cha- teau at Tanlay, Catherine is painted as Juno, with two faces, one of which is described as " masculine and sinister," while the other is full of " sweetness and dignity." She might seem to have a dual nature. Her complexion was olive, be- speaking her Italian birth. She had the large eyes peculiar to the Medici family. Her hand and arm are said to have been " the despair of the sculptor," so faultless was their model. She was of medium height, large, but compactly made. Her figure was admired even in middle life. She required and was capable of the most vigorous out-of-door exercise, in the chase she dashed on through stream and THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 7 thicket, keeping up with the boldest riders. Then she would give herself up with a hearty appetite to the pleasures of the table ; but she arose from it to apply herself with untiring energy to business. Her manners were lively and gracious ; her conversation full of spirit and intelligence. She has left behind numerous monuments of her taste in architecture — the palace of the Tuileries owed its beginning to her. Her versatility and tact were equal to any emergency. Her let- ters to her children are those of a sympathetic mother. She was personally chaste, little as she valued chastity in others. But at the core, as Milton says of Belial, all was false and hollow. It was the grace of the leopard, serving as a veil for its ferocity. Beneath exterior accomplishments, and charms even^ was a nature devoid of moral sense. She was swift to shed blood, when a selfish end required it. But falsehood, and the treachery that springs from it, was her most loathsome trait. To comprehend the possibility of such a character, we must remember the spirit of the age, and the atmosphere in which she grew up. In the famous church of Santa Croce, at Florence, where are the sepulchres of Michael Angelo, Galileo, Alfieri, and the cenotaph of Dante, the attention of the visitor is arrested by an impressive epitaph. High up on the smooth face of a marble monument stands the name ^NicoLAUs Machiavelli. Below, where the inscription would naturally come, there is a broad space left untouched by the chisel ; beneath which are carved the words : " Tanto nomi- ni nullum par elogium'^'^ — " To so a great a name no eulogy is adequate ; " as if the peu had been dropped in despair, for want of words commensurate with the geniijs and merits of the statesman, scholar, and historian, whose name had been recorded. Yet the word " Machiavellian " has become a current term to denote knavish intrigue, double-dealing, and fraud. It would be unjust to Machiavelli to brand him as the inventor of the ethical code which he has set forth in " The Prince." This work, which was written for Lorenzo, 8 THE MASSACRE OF ST. BAETHOLOMEW. the father of Catherine, deliberately advises rulers to break their word, whenever they find it convenient to do so. It presents a fair picture of that base public morality of the fifteenth century, which had grown up in the conflicts of the Italian States, and under the eye of 'the Popes, some of whom were its notorious exemplars. The Machiavellian spirit tainted the public men of the sixteenth century ; in some degree, the best of them, as William the Silent, and the Regent Murray of Scotland. As for assassination — that in Italy had been almost reduced to a fine art. The grand- father of Catherine, Lorenzo I., barely escaped fi-om a mur- derous attempt, which proved fatal to his brother Julian, who fell under the dagger of an assassin before the high altar of the cathedral of Florence, during the celebration of mass — Pope Sixtus IV. being, probably, the chief contriver of the plot. Catherine de Medici was an Italian woman, born and nurtured under the influences that then prevailed, constrained from childhood to cloak her thoughts and im- pulses, and developing, under the unhappy circumstances in which she was placed prior to the death of her husband, the cleverness and cunning that belonged to her nature. She was destined to be the mother of three kings of France, and to play a conspicuous and baleful part in a most eventful period of French history. At the accession of Francis II., the Queen Mother natu- rally felt that the hour for the gratification of her ambition had arrived. But she was disappointed. She found that the king and his government were completely under the sway of the family of Guise, in the person of Duke Francis, and of his brother Charles, Cardinal of Lorraine — the knight and the priest, the lion and the fox united. Claude of Lorraine, their father, was an opulent and influential noble, who had distinguished himself in the wars against Charles Y. His son Francis, who was now forty years of age, had acquired brilliant fame by his defence of Metz against the Emperor, whom he forced to raise the siege after a loss of 30,000 THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 9 men, and also bj the recent capture of Calais from the Eng- lish. The Cardinal had been the confessor and trusted coun- sellor of Henry II. The power of the family had been in- creased by matrimonial connections. Their brother had married a daughter of Diana of Poitiers. Their niece, Mary Stuart, the daughter of James Y. of Scotland, had, in the preceding year, when she was sixteen years old, mar- ried Francis 11., who was about a year younger than herself. Her beauty, her tact, accomplishments, and energy, were cast on the side of the Guise influence. With her aid, her uncles found no difficulty in managing the boy-king. Cath- erine was obliged to stand back, and yield up the station that she had long coveted. The Constable Montmorenci, who, with his numerous relatives, had shared power with the Guises in the last reign, was civiUy dismissed from his post. The Guises, in whose hands everything was practically left, set themselves up as the champions of the Roman Catholic cause, and the enemies of the Protestant heresy. But their path was not to be a smooth one. The princes of the house of Bourbon — descendants of a younger son of Louis IX., St. Louis of France — considered that they were robbed of their legitimate post at the side of the throne. Anthony of Yendome, the eldest, was the husband of that noble Protestant woman, Jeanne D'Albret, the daughter of Margaret, the sister of Francis I., and through his marriage wore the title of King of Navarre. He proved a vacillating and selfish adherent of the Protestant party, which he at length was bribed to desert. His younger brother, Louis of Conde, who had married a niece of the Constable, and a de- voted Protestant, was a gallant soldier, but rash in counsel. With the Bourbons stood the Chatillons, the sons of Louisa of Montmorenci, the Constable's sister ; of whom the most eminent was the Admiral, Gaspard de Coligny, one of the greatest men of that or of any age. He was of middle height, with his head slightly bent forward as if in deep 10 THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. thought. His spacious forehead reminds one of the por- traits of William the Silent, to whom in character he had many points of resemblance. He spoke little, and slowly. In battle, his grave countenance lighted up, and he was ob- served to chew the toothpick, which, to the disgust of a class of courtiers, he habitually carried in his mouth. Frequent- ly defeated, he reaped hardly less renown from defeats than from victories. He rose from them with unabated vigor. His constancy never wavered in the darkest hour. He em- braced the Calvinistic faith ; and whether in the court, the camp, or among his dependents on his own estate, his con- duct was strictly governed by the principles of religion. His reserve and gravity, in contrast with the vivacious tem- per of his countrymen, commanded that respect which these qualities, even when not united with remarkable powers of intellect, usually inspire in them, as we see in the case of Kapoleon III. Here, then, in the middle of the sixteenth century, in France, were all the materials of civil war. It was inevita- ble that the Calvinists, harassed beyond endurance, should league themselves with the disaffected nobles who offered them the only chance of salvation from their persecutors, and whose religious sympathies were on their side. Thus the Huguenots became a political party. The nation was divided into two bodies, with their passions inflamed. A tempest was at hand, and there was only a boy at the helm. The conspiracy of Amboise, which occurred in 1560, was an abortive scheme, of which a Protestant gentleman named La Renaudie was the chief author, for driving the Guises from power. Conde was privy to it; Calvin disapproved of it ; Coligny took no part in it. The next year the Estates assembled at Orleans, and a trap was laid by the Catholic leaders for the* destruction of all Protestants who should refuse to abjure their religion. Conde had been ar- rested and put under guard, when, just as the fatal blow was ready to fall, the young king died. Charles IX., his THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 11 brother, was only ten years old, and it was no longer prac- ticable to shut out his mother from the office of guardian over him, and from a virtual regency. From this time she comes to the front, and becomes a power in the State. Mary Stuart returned to Scotland, and on another theatre entered upon that tragic career which ended on the scaffold at Fotheringay. The Queen Mother was now free from her dangerous rival. Through her whole career, tortuous and inconsistent as it often seemed, Catherine de Medici was actuated by a single motive — the purpose to maintain the authority of her sons and her own ascendancy over them. To check and cast down whichever party threatened to ac- quire a dangerous predominance and to supplant her, was her incessant aim. Caring little or nothing for religious doc- trines, she hated the restraints of religion, and hence could regard Calvinism only with aversion. But how indifferent she was to the controversy between the rival churches is indicated by her jocose remark, when the mistaken report reached her that the Protestants had gained the victory at Dreux : " Then we shall say our prayers in French." She believed in astrology, and that was about the lunit of her faith. To rule her children, and to rule France through them, was the one end which she always kept in view. The civil wars began in 1562 with the massacre of Yassy, where the troopers of Guise provoked a conflict with an un- armed congregation of Protestant worshippers, many of whom they slaughtered. Ten years intervened between this event and the massacre of St. Bartholomew ; years of intes- tine conflict, when France bled at every pore. ^Neither party was strong enough to subjugate the other. The pa- tience of the Protestants had been worn out by forty years of sanguinary persecution. The battle on both sides was waged with bitter animosity. The country was ravaged from side to side. The Catholics found it impossible to crush their antagonists, who revived from every disaster, and extorted, in successive treaties, a measure of liberty for 1S> THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. their worship. Among the events which it is necessary for our purpose to mention is the assassination of the Duke of Guise by a Huguenot nobleman in 1563, while the Duke was laying siege to Orleans, then in the hands of the Prot- estants. This act met with no countenance from the Prot- estant leaders. It was condemned by Calvin. It was said that the assassin, when stretched on the rack, avowed that the deed was done with the connivance of Coligny. But he was subjected to no fair examination, and there was no rea- son to doubt the assertion of the Admiral that he had no agency in it. He admitted that for six months, since he had learned that Guise was plotting his own destruction and that of his brothers, he had made no exertions to save that nobleman's life. Innocent though Coligny was of aU parti- cipation in this deed, it planted seeds of implacable hostility in the minds of Guise's family, the fruits of which eventu- ally appeared. Another event, which it specially concerns us to notice, was the insurrection of the Huguenots which they set on foot several years later, in anticipation of a pro- jected attack upon them, and which resulted in their extort- ing from Charles IX., in 1568, the Peace of Longjumeau. The king was exasperated at being obliged to treat w^ith his subjects in arms. This humiliating event was skilfully used afterward to goad him on to a measure to which he was not spontaneously inclined. At this time the foundations of the Catholic League were laid. The extreme Catholics began to band themselves together, instigated by the spirit of the Catholic reaction which, through its mouthpiece, the Pope, and its secular head, Philip II., breathed out fire and slaughter against all heretics. Between this bigoted faction, which became more and more furious as time went on, and the Huguenots, were the Moderates — the Politiques, as they were called — Catho- lics who deplored the continuance of civil war, deprecated the undue ascendancy of Spain, and were in favor of an ac- commodation with the Protestants. The treachery of Cath- THE MASSACKE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 13 erine de Medici broke the treaty of Longjumeau ; but ber plan to entrap and destroy the Huguenot leaders failed. Tlieir defeat at Jarnac, wliere Conde perished, and at Mon- contour, with the military triumph of her favorite son, the Duke of Anjou, did not bring to her content. The defeated forces of the Protestants, under the masterly lead of Coligny, found a refuge within the walls of Rochelle, where the Queen of Navarre established her court, and whence Co- ligny, with his cavalry, and with the young princes, Henry of Kavarre and Henry of Conde at his side, was soon able to sally forth and take the offensive. The Queen Mother was now eager for peace. The atmosphere of intrigue and diplomacy was always more pleasing to her than the clash of arms. The king's treasury was exhausted. He did not relish the military successes of Anjou. The Huguenots sprang up from their defeats with indomitable courage. Moreover, Catherine, the king, the whole party of Moder- ates, saw that the continuance of the strife could only re- dound to the profit of Philip, who lent aid or withheld it, with sole reference to his own ambitious projects. If the war was to go on between the king and his Protestant sub- jects, the latter would get help from England and Germany, and the government, forced to fall back upon the support of Spain, would come into practical subservience to Philip. To this the Queen Mother was not at all inclined. At the Conference of Bayonne in 1565, both she and Charles IX. had disappointed Alva by refusing to enter into his plan for a common crusade against the heretical subjects of France and Spain. Thus, in 1570, the Peace of St. Germain was concluded. The Huguenots, who could not longer be ex- pected to trust the king's word, were put in possession of four fortified towns for the space of two years: They were, to be given up to Henry of Navarre, Henry of Conde, and twenty Huguenot gentlemen. The Lorraine faction, the Guises and their followers, acquiesced in the treaty. Observe, now, the political situation. The policy of the 14 THE MASSACEE OF ST. BAETHOLOMEW, court was turned in the anti- Spanish direction. The power of Philip was becoming too formidable. The Duke of Alva had begun his bloody career in the Netherlands in 1567 with the execution of Egmont and Horn, and numerous other judi- cial murders. Now, his tyranny was at its height. Philip had planned a marriage between his half-brother, Don John of Austria, and Mary Stuart, which would give him, as he hoped, control over Scotland and England both. He was already supreme in Italy. His wish was to marry his sister to Charles IX., and to unite with him in an anti-Protestant coalition. Then all Europe would lie at his feet, and France be practically a Spanish province. On the 25th of Febru- ary, 1570, Pius Y., an untiring and unpitying instigator of persecution, issued his bull of excommunication against Elizabeth. A year after, the brilliant victory of Spain over the Turks at Lepanto still further raised the jpu'estige of Philip, and left him more free to pursue his ambitious schemes in Western Europe. The Queen Mother loved power too well for herself and her children, to fall into the snare which Philip was setting. She entered warmly into the project of a marriage between her second son, the Duke of Anjou, and Elizabeth, which was first suggested by the brother of Coligny. When Anjou, seduced by the Spanish court, and by the offer of 100,000 crowns from the Pope's Nuncio, drew back from a match with a heretic so much older than himself, Catherine was eager to substitute for him his younger brother Alen9on ; and indulged also the chimerical hope that Anjou might secure the hand of Mary Queen of Scots. This policy of the court could not be other- wise than satisfactory to the Huguenots. War with Spain, to be fought out in the Netherlands, in alliance with England and G-ermany, but with due care for French interests, ap- pealed at once to their patriotic feeling and their religious enthusiasm. The government and the Huguenot party were thus drawn toward ^ach other. A marriage between Henry of Navarre and Margaret of Yalois, the daughter of Cath- THE mASSACEE of ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 16 erine, had been spoken of long before, prior to the death of Henry II., when both Navarre and Margaret were children. The idea was now revived from the side of the Moderates, by a son of Montmorenci. It was heartily favored by Catherine, warmly supported by the king, who was person- ally fond of Henry, and was struck with the expediency of a marriage which would thus unite the contending parties ; and it obtained at length the consent of the high-toned Queen of Navarre, with whom worldly distinction for her son was of far less account than honor and religious conviction. Coligny and the other Huguenot leaders lent their cordial approval to the plan. Coligny was now urgently invited to come to the court. The king and the Queen Mother were anxious to have the benefit of his counsel. Despite the opposition of his friends, including the Queen of Navarre, who were unwilling to see him commit himself to the hands of those who had been, in the past, his perfidious enemies, Coligny determined to com- ply with the invitation. He confided in Charles, he said ; he would rather die at once, than live a hundred years, sub- ject to cowardly apprehensions. He earnestly desired to bring the civil conflict to an end. He was full of ardor for the enterprise against Philip, in the Netherlands, into which he hoped to carry the king. It would give employment to the numerous mercenaries and marauders whom the Cessa- tion of the war at home had left idle. It would strike a blow, alike honorable and useful to France, and damaging to Spain. Coligny left Eochelle, escorted by fifty gentle- men, and arrived at Blois, where the court was, on the 12th of September, 15Y1. He was welcomed by Catherine, and by the king, who greeted him with the title of " father," and declared that day to be the happiest of his life. Charles was twenty-one years of age. His natural talents were above the ordinary level. He was fond of music, and his poetical compositions were not without merit. But the education which he had received was the worst possible. 16 THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. llis nature was unhealthy, and utterly unregulated. Though not a debauchee, like his brother Anjou, his morbid impulses raged without control : his anger, when excited, bordered on frenzy. Yet there was in him a latent vein of generous feeling. He met in Coligny, almost for the first time in his life, a man whom he could revere. Coligny was fifty-four years of age. He had been a man of war from his youth up ; but he had drawn the sword from a stern sense of duty ; and his lofty character could not fail to impress all who were thrown in his company. He, in turn, seemed to be charmed with his young sovereign. The jealousy of Catherine was soon aroused. "He sees too much of the Admiral," she said, " and too little of me." As the veteran soldier painted the advantages that would result from going to the rescue of William of Orange, and striking a blow at Spain in the Low Countries, the sympathy of Charles was awakened, and he expressed an e^ger deshe to enter person- ally into the contest. Meantime, the project of the marriage of Henry and Mar- garet continued to be pushed. The Queen of Navarre was persuaded herself to come to Blois, in March, 1572. While there, in a letter to her son, she described the indecency of the court, where even the women had cast off the show of modesty, and did not blush to play the part of seducers. The marriage of Henry and Margaret, the plan of a matri- monial connection with Elizabeth, the scheme of an offensive alliance with England, and of a war with Spain, to be waged in Flanders, were all parts of a line of policy which the Hu- guenots urged, and which Catherine for a while favored. But she became more and more alarmed at the influence ac- quired by Coligny. Elizabeth was cautious, and the negoti- ations looking to a change of the defensive into an offensive alliance, lagged. A war with Spain, Catherine felt, would establish Coligny's ascendancy over the mind of Charles. Such a war she more and more dreaded on its own account ; and when the force secretly sent by Charles, under Ge^^s, THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 17 to the support of Orange, was defeated and cut np by Alva's son, the Queen Mother declared herself vehemently agamst the measure on which Coligny rested all his hopes for France, and towards which the king, in his better moods, was strongly inclined. In the council, the party opposed to the war was led by Anjou. He, with Catherine, Retz, Tavan- nes, and others to support him, was able to keep back the king from an * absolute decision ; and thus, through the spring and early summer of 1572, the question was warmly, and sometimes angrily, debated. The death of the Queen of IN^avarre at Paris, on the 9th of June, was one cause for the postponement of the wedding of her son to the 18th of August. The refusal of the Pope to grant a dispensation was another hinderance. The king was resolved to effect the marriage, with or without the Pope's consent. A forged letter, purporting to come from Rome, announcing the con- sent of Gregory XIII., the new Pope, to the nuptials, was exhibited by Charles to the Cardinal of Bourbon, who had refused to solemnize the marriage without the papal authori- zation. In subsequent years Henry TV., the Conqueror of Ivry and the Restorer of Peace to France, looked back on the 8th of July, 1572, as one of the brightest days in all his tempestu- ous career. On that day he made his entry into Paris, riding between the king's two brothers, and accompanied by Conde, the Cardinal of Bourbon, the Admiral Coligny, and eight hundred mounted gentlemen. The procession, however, was greeted with little enthusiasm by the crowd that filled the streets. Paris was the hot-bed of Catholic fanaticism. In all the treaties which had given liberty to the reformed worship, the capital had been excepted. Here the enmity of the populace to the Huguenots was rancorous in the ex- treme. All the pulpits in those days rang with fierce invec- tives against the heretics. Guise, with his mother, the Duchess of I^Temours, and with a great military following, came to Paris also. The Huguenots had no protection but 18 THE MASSACRE OF ST. BAETHOLOMEW. their own vigilance, their swords, and, above all, the good faith of the king, against the host of enemies by whom they were surrounded. On the 18th of August the long-expected marriage took place. The splendid procession, composed of the royal family and the nobility of France, moved along a covered platform from the Bishop's palace to the pavilion erected in front of Notre Dame, where the ceremony took place. The bride, whose beauty and grace of person unhappily were not associated with moral qualities equally winning — ^f or she was untruthful and vain, if not something worse — describes her own costume — her crown, her vest of ermine spotted with black {couet d'hermine mouchetee\ all brilliant with pearls, and the great blue mantle, whose train of four ells in length was carried by three princesses.* Charles, Navarre and Conde, in token of their mutual affection, were dressed alike, in garments of light yellow satin, embroidered with silver, and glittering with pearls and precious stones. Mi- cheli, one of the Yenetian ambassadors — accurate reporters — states that the cost of the king's bonnet, charger, and gar- ments, wa§ half a million crowns ; while Anjou wore in his hat thirty-two well-known pearls, purchased at a cost of 23,000 gold crowns. All this, when the royal treasury was exhausted ! Navarre led his bride from the pavilion into the church ; and then, during the celebration of mass, with the Huguenot chiefs withdrew to the adjacent cloister. De Thou, the French historian, who was then a youth of nine- teen, after the mass was over, climbed over the barriers errected to keep off the people, went into the choir, and heard Coligny, pointing to the flags taken at Jarnac and Moncon- tour, say to Damville that " soon these would be replaced by others more agreeable to see ; " alluding to the war in Flan- ders, on which his thoughts were bent. The next few days were given up to festivities — " balls, banquets, masques and * Memoiresde Marguerite de Valois, in Petitot's Collection, torn, xxxvii., p. 48. . THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOACEW. 19 tourneys," into wliich IS'avarre entered with zest, but which were equally offensive and tedious to the grave Coligny, who longed to be away, and who vainly tried to draw the king's attention to the business which lay nearest his heart. Charles put him off. He must have a few days for pleasure ; then the admiral should be gratified. Five days after the wedding, on Friday, the 22d of Au- gust, at a little past ten in the morning, as Coligny was walking between two friends from the Louvre to his own lodgings, an arquebus was discharged at him from a latticed window of a house standing near the cloister of St. Germain I'Auxerrois. At the moment he was in the act of reading a petition. He was hit by a bullet on the first finger of the right hand ; another bullet entered his left arm. With his wounded hand he pointed out the window whence the shot had come, and directed an attendant to inform the king. He was then conducted to his lodgings. The king, vexed and enraged, threatened vengeance upon the guilty parties. His surgeon, Ambrose Pare, was sent, who amputated the finger, and extracted the ball from the arm. Navarre, at- tended by hundreds of Huguenot gentlemen, soon visited the admiral. Conde and other Huguenot leaders waited on the king, and demanded leave to retire from the court, where their lives were not safe. Charles beo^^ed them to re- main, and swore vengeance upon the perpetrators of the deed. The authors of the attempt to assassinate Coligny were Catherine de Medici, and her son, the Duke of Anjou, in conjunction with the Duke of Guise and his mother. The house belonged to a dependant of Guise ; the weapon, which was found in it, to one of Anjou's guards. The instrument who was employed to do the work was Maurevel, who, a few years before, had been hired to kill Coligny, at a time when a price was set on his head, but had murdered one of his lieutenants, Moiiy, in his stead. In the year following the massacre of St. 'Bartholomew, 2U THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. Anjou — afterward Henry III. — ^was elected king of Po- land. In the narrative which he is said to have given ver- bally to Miron, his physician, we are furnished with an ac- count of the motives and causes of the transaction in which he bore so guilty a part. The reporter, Miron, states that when Henry III. was on his way to Poland, in the cities of the Low Countries, wherever a crowd was assembled, he was saluted with bitter execrations in German, French, and Latin, for his agency in the massacre ; and that in apai-tments where he was entertained and lodged, he found paintings depicting scenes in that fearful tragedy, which had been ar- ranged beforehand to meet his eye. Hence, two days after his arrival in Cracow, he was kept awake in the night by the recollection of the terrible occurrences which had thus been brought to his mind. Restless and agitated, about three hours after midnight, he summoned Miron from an adjacent room to his bedside, and related to him there the story of the origin of the massacre. According to this statement of Henry IH., Charles, in the period just before the Navarre marriage, was in frequent conference with Coligny ; and after those long conferences, the king treated Anjou and his mother in a very frigid and even rough manner. On one occasion, as Anjou was entering the king's apartment, after one of these interviews, Charles looked at him askance in a fierce way, and laid his hand upon the hilt of his dagger, so that he was glad to escape precipitately from the king's presence. Convinced that Coligny was undermining the king's regard for them, the Queen Mother and Anjou resolved to destroy him ; and for this end called in the aid of the Duchess of Nemours — the widow of Guise, and an Italian by birth — whose vindictive hatred of the Huguenot leader made her a willing coadjutor. Maurevel, who had abundant cause to fear the Chatillons, was pitched upon to do the deed. When the attempt had failed, the king after dinner — he dined at eleven — went to visit the wounded admiral. Cath- erine and Anjou took care to go with him. While they were THE MASSACRE OF ST. BAERHOLOMEW. 21 in the Admiral's chamber, he signified his wish to speak with the king privately. Anjou and his mother retired to another part of the room. Alarmed at the way in which this pri- vate conference was prolonged, and at the menacing de- meanor of the throng of Huguenot gentlemen, who treated them with less than usual respect, Catherine stepped to the bedside, and, to the obvious disgust of the king, broke off the conversation — saying that Coligny must not be wearied, that there was danger of fever, and that a future time must be chosen for finishing their talk. Whatever may be false in this narrative of Henry III., or may be omitted from it, the main circumstances of the interview are correctly given. Coligny thought that the bullets might have been poisoned, and he wished to give his dying counsel to the sovereign. On the way back to the Louvre, Anjou proceeds to say, Catherine by her importunity wrung from the king the avowal that the admiral had warned him of the fatal consequences that would follow from allowing the management of public affairs to remain in her hands, and had advised him to hold her in suspicion, and to guard against her. This the king uttered with extreme passion, implying that he approved of Coligny's advice. There was good ground for the consternation of the Queen Mother and of Anjou. A crisis had come for which they were not prepared. The wrath of the Huguenots was ready to burst forth in an armed attack upon the opposite faction. They were restrained only by the king ; and even he was resolved to punish to the full the assailants of Coligny. If the Guises fell, the ascendancy of the Huguenot chief, who would recover from his wounds, was assured. But the pun- ishment which the king threatened might fall on Anjou, also, if not on Catherine herself. Nothing was left to her but to make another desperate effort, with the aid of coun- sellors as unprincipled as herself, to win back the king, re- sume the control over him which she had exercised from his childhood, and to enlist him in the work of destroying the 532 THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. • Admiral and of breaking down the Huguenots' power of re- sistance. After noon on Saturday, she collected about her, in anxious conclave in the Tuileries, besides Anjou, the Count de Retz, the Chancellor Birogne, the Marshal de Tavannes, and the Duke de Nevers ; three of whom were Italians like herself, with no scruples about assassinating an enemy, and with whom deceit and mystery lent an added fascination to crime. With these men, the Queen Mother repaired to the Louvre, to the cabinet of her son. There she made, with all her energy and skill, her last and successful onset upon him. She avowed her own agency, and that of Anjou, in the attempt upon Coligny. But first she declared to him that the Huguenots were everywhere arming to make them- selves masters of the government ; that the Admiral was to furnish 6,000 cavalry and 10,000 Swiss ; that the Catholics in turn had lost all patience, and would instantly combine in a league to supplant him and seize on power ; that there was no deliverance but in the death of Coligny, without whom the Huguenots would be left destitute of a leader. She reminded Charles of the insurrection when, at Meaux, they had nearly got possession of his person — a recollection that always excited his anger. Wlien she saw that he did not yield ; that he could not bring himself to give up Coli- gny and his friends — La Eochef oucauld, Teligni, and others — she begged — almost breathless, in her feigned despair — that she and Anjou might have leave to withdraw from the ap- proaching ruin — to retire from the court. To retire, as he well understood, meant to join themselves to the Catholic faction, soon to be in arms against him. At last she taunted him with fear of the Huguenots. Then he gave up ; and in the fury of his vexation, wild with excitement, bade them kill not the Admiral alone, but all the Huguenots in France, that none might be left to reproach him. Such is the state- ment of Henry, who thus attributes the general massacre to the suggestion of the king. But Tavannes — or the son in the memoirs of his father — relates that the recommendation THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 23 of the council was to slay all the Huguenot leaders : he as- serts that Navarre and Conde were spared by his own inter- cession. Catherine must have foreseen that the murder of Coligny, which could only be effected by open violence, would lead to a general slaughter, or to a bloody encounter between the forces of the two parties, resulting in a great loss of life. If she did not first recommend the general massacre, she consented to the plot, and joined in the execu- tion of it. The plan being formed, the requisite orders were promptly given. Guise took it in hand to destroy the admiral. Chanon, the Provost of Merchants, and with him Marcel his predecessor, on whose influence and cruel disposition more reliance was placed, were summoned, and commis- sioned to shut the gates of the city so that none could go out or come in, to arm the people, and have them in readi- ness in their proper wards. The organized soldiery were conveniently disposed under their commanders. A con- spiracy and threatened rising of the Huguenots were the pre- text for these arrangements ; but the soldiers and the leaders of the mob needed no such inducement to reconcile them to the task of putting to death the heretics. As the dawn ap- proached. Guise, with the bastard Angouleme, a son of Henry H., moved with a strong force silently through the streets to the lodgings of the admiral, where the king's guards, who had been stationed there for his protection, were ready to side with the assassins. Coligny heard the tumult ; divined its nature ; calmly commended his soul to Christ ; told his friends that he was ready to die ; bade them es- cape, and was pierced with the swords of the hired murder- ers who flung his body from the window upon the pave- ment, that Guise might be satisfied that the work was com- pletely done, and trample on the lifeless hero whom he had hated. Guise had ordered that every true Catholic should tie a white band upon his arm, and fasten a white cross to his hat. A distinguished painter, Millais, has depicted, in 24: THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. " The Huguenot Lover," a scene that might naturally have occurred. A maiden, in whose countenance tenderness is mingled with terror, is gazing up into the face of her lover, about whose arm she is trying to bind a white scarf — which he gently but firmly resists. The houses of the Huguenots were registered ; there was no difficulty in finding the vic- tims. At early dawn the great bell of Saint Germain 1' Auxer- rois tolled out the signal, and the slaughter began. Even the hard-hearted Marshal Tavannes, who superintended the soldiery, says: "Blood and death fill the streets with such horror that even their majesties, who were the authors of it, within the Louvre cannot avoid fear ; all the Huguenots are indiscriminately slain, making no defence ; many women and children are slain by the furious populace ; two thou- sand are massacred." Catherine de Medici and her two sons had come to the front of the Louvre " to see the execution commence." This same Tavannes, with savage ferocity, cried to his men : " Kill, kill ! bleeding is as good in August as in May ! " The Protestant noblemen who were near Coligny, placed there for his defence, were murdered. La Rochefoucauld, who had spent the previous evening with the king until 11 o'clock, and whom Charles had tried to detain for the night in order to save him, was stabbed to the heart. Teligui, Coligny's son-in-law, a man beloved by all, was butchered by a valet of Anjou. Brion, the white- haired preceptor of the Marquis of Conti, the young brother of Cond^, was massacred in the arms of the child, who begged in vain that the life of his teacher might be spared. Among the killed was Peter Ramus, a renowned scholar and philosopher, who was detested as a Protestant and as an opponent of Aristotle, and fell a victim to the jealousy of his rival, Charpentier. Private revenge and avarice seized on the occasion to strike down those who were hated, or whose property was coveted. Among the most revolting features of the massacre were THE MASSACKE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 25 the part taken by women and children m the work of death, and the brutality with which the corpses of the dead were mutilated, and dragged through the streets. The tumult, as a writer has said, was like that " of hell. The clanging bells, the crashing doors, the musket shots, the rush of armed men, the shrieks of their victims, and high over all the yells of the mob, fiercer and more pitiless than hungry wolves, made such an uproar that the stoutest hearts shrank appalled, and the sanest appear to have lost their reason." * On the evening before, Margaret of Yalois had been bidden by her mother to retire to her own room. Her sister Claude caught her by the arm and begged her not to go, an inter- ference which Catherine sharply rebuked. " I departed," says Margaret, " alarmed and amazed, not knowing what I had to dread." She found the King of JS'avarre's apart- ments filled with Huguenot gentlemen, talking of the de- mand which they would make of the king, the next day, for the punishment of the Duke of Guise. At dawn, her hus- band went out with them to the tennis-court, to wait for Charles to rise. She fell asleep, but an hour later was awakened by a man calling out, "iVW^T*/*^," '^ NavarreP The nurse openedt he door, when a wounded gentleman, pursued by four soldiers, rushed in and flung himself upon her bed. She sprang up, followed by the man, who still clung to her — as it soon appeared, for protection. The cap- tain of the guards was fortunately at hand. He drove out the soldiers, and the life of the wounded man was saved. The friends, guards and servants of Navarre and Conde were slain. Two hundred bodies lay under the windows of the palace. They were inspected, at a later hour, by the ladies of the court, who commented on them with a shame- less indecency, that would be incredible were it not attested by good evidence. The princes themselves had been sum- moned to the king's chamber. Charles, excited to fury, de- * Henry White : *' Massacre of St. Bartholomew," p. 413. 3 26 THE MASSAOEE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. manded of them to abjure their heresy. " The mass, or death ! " he cried. Navarre, politic though brave, reminded him of his promises, and required time to consider. Conde firmly refused. Three days were given them in which to make their decision. They finally conformed, to save their lives ; and these converts made in this way were graciously accepted by the Pope. In the course of the massacre, there were many who narrowly escaped death. A little boy, the son of La Force, saw his brother and father killed, and lay, pretending to be dead, all the day under their bodies, imtil he heard from a bystander an expression of pity for the slain, to whom he revealed himself, and was saved. Sully, afterward prime minister of Henry IV., then in his twelfth year, escaped almost by miracle. The slaughter once begun, could not easily be stopped. Several days passed before the scenes of robbery and mur- der came to an end. Capilupi, who wrote his account im- mediately after the massacre, under the direction of the Cardinal of Lorraine, referring to Sunday, the principal day, says: "It was a holiday, and therefore the people could more conveniently find leisure to kill and plunder." Orders were sent to the other principal towns of France, where the massacre of the Huguenots was carried forward with like cir- cumstances of cruelty. Not less than twenty thousand per- sons of both sexes, and of every age, were killed in obedi- ence to the command of the court. On the first evening after the massacre, the king had sent out messages, ascribing the whole to a conflict of the hostile houses of Guise and Chatillon. Soon it was found neces- sary, as well as expedient, to assume the responsibility for the dreadful transaction, and to declare that the massacre was made necessary by a dangerous conspiracy (;>f the Hugue- nots against the king and government. To carry out this false pretension, several of the Huguenot leaders, who had escaped with their lives, were put through the forms of a judicial process, convicted, and executed. Henry of Na- THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 27 varre was compelled to be one of the spectators of the death of these innocent men. In all Protestant countries, the report of the great mas- sacre called out a feeling of unmixed reprobation and hor- ror. Burghlej told La Mothe-Fenelon, the French ambassa- dor, that " the Paris massacre was the most horrible crime which had been committed since the crucifixion of Christ." John Knox said to Du Croc, the French Minister in Scot- land ; " Go, tell jour king, that God's vengeance shall never depart from him nor from his house ; that his name shall remain an execration to posterity ; and that none proceed- ing from his loins shall enjoj the kingdom in peace unless he repent." The Emperor Maximilian II., Catholic though he was, expressed the strong condemnation which was felt by aU whose hearts were not hardened by sectarian animos- ity. On the contrary, in Rome and in Madrid, the seats of the Catholic Reaction, there was joy and thanksgiving. Philip II., who, it is said, laughed aloud for the first time in his life, was profuse in his congratulations. The event was celebrated at Rome by the ringing of bells, bonfires, and solemn processions. An inscription over the church of St. Louis, where a Te Deum was chanted, described Charles IX. as an avenging angel, despatched from heaven to sweep his kingdom of heretics. A medal was struck by Gregory XIII. to commemorate the massacre — bearing on one face the inscription ^' Ilugonotoi'urn Strages^'' — Slaughter of the Huguenots — together with the figure of an avenging angel engaged in destroying them. Three frescoes were painted by Yasari in the Vatican, according to the Pope's order, de- scribing the attack upon the Admiral, the king in his coun- cil plotting the massacre, and the massacre itself. This painting bears the inscription: Pontifex Colignii necem jprobat — the Pope approves the killing of Coligny. It is pretended by some that the authorities at Rome were de- ceived by the story of a Huguenot conspiracy against the 28 THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. king's life, which the massacre prevented from being car- ried out. But Charles did not bring foi-ward this story until the 26th of August. On the 24th, he wrote to his ambassador at Rome — Ferraz — that the slaughter resulted from a conflict of the two families of Guise and Chatillon. Salviati himself, the Nuncio of the Pope, said that no per- son of sense believed the tale of a conspiracy. The Nun- cio's despatches put the Court of Rome in immediate pos- session of the real facts. The Cardinal of Lorraine claimed at Rome that the massacre was the product of long deceit and premeditation. The circumstance that Muretus, in his inhuman panegyric of the murderers, delivered in Rome four months after the event, charges a conspiracy upon the slain Huguenots, does not prove that anybody believed it. It is probable that few, if any, were deceived by the fiction of a Huguenot plot — an afterthought of Catherine and the king. The exultation at Rome and Madrid was over the destruc- tion of heretics, and the downfall of the anti-Spanish party in France. The rejoicings of the Yatican were kept up, after the massacre at Paris, as the reports of the continua- tion of the tragedy reached Rome from other parts of the kingdom. It was simply a fanatical joy over the murder of apostates from the Roman Catholic religion. The Massacre of St. Bartholomew, like the whole course of events in the sixteenth century, was due to a mingling of political and religious motives. It was not political ambi- tion and rivalry alone, nor was it religious fanaticism alone, that gave rise to this terrible event, but both united. But personal motives were, also, closely interwoven with these agencies. The principal, most responsible author of the crime, was Catherine de Medici. It sprang out of her jeal- ously of Coligny's influence, and her fear of being sup- planted. Anjou, her companion in guilt, was moved by the same inducements. Their confederates, Henry of Guise and his mother, were instigated by revenge, mingled with the THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 29 ambition and resentment of political aspirants who saw themselves on the verge of a downfall. But the insti-ument bj which these individuals accomplished their design was the fanaticism which the reactionary Catholic movement had kindled in the populace and soldieiy of Paris. It was reli- ligious malignity that sharpened their daggers, and found vent in the fiendish yells that resounded through Paris on that fearful night. The slaying of heretics had never been rebuked by their religious teachers, but only encouraged and applauded. The thanksgivings at Rome were the proper sequel of the exhortations which had been sent forth from the same seat of authority. "Was the Massacre of St. Bartholomew contrived long be- forehand? So it was once thought. Davila, and other Italian wi'iters, declared this to be the fact. To them, the event would have been shorn of a great part of its interest, if it did not occur as the result of a long and intricate plot. Even the authors of the crime, to account for the sudden re- versal of their attitude toward Spain and for their previous acts of hostility against Philip, were willing to countenance this interpretation of their conduct. The Huguenots, on whom the blow fell like a thunderbolt, and who had a right to consider those murderers of St. Bartholomew capable of infinite falsehood, naturally took this view. The treaty of St. Germain, the marriage of Navarre, the collecting of the Huguenot leaders in Paris, the offensive demonstrations in the Low Countries, were elements in a diabolical scheme for their destruction. Yet this theory was undoubtedly errone- ous. Philip and Alva had been right in expecting a war with France. JS'ot only the Navarre marriage, but the ne- gotiations with Elizabeth respecting marriages and an alli- ance, were undertaken with a sincere intent on the part of Charles IX. and Catherine. The theory of a long premedi- tation of the great crime, and that all these transactions, stretching over two years, were steps in a deep-laid plot, is confuted by an irresistible amount of circumstantial evidence, 30 THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. and by the authentic testimony of Tavannes and Anjou, chief actors in the tragedy. The spell which Coligny had cast upon the mind of the king, whom he had impressed so far as to persuade him to enter into war, was what deter- mined Catherine de Medici to bring about the death of the Admiral by the agency of the Guises. She probably antici- pated that vengeance would be taken by the Huguenots upon these leaders of the Catholic faction ; but for that she did not care. The fall of the leaders on both sides would strengthen her power. When the Admiral was wounded, instead of being killed ; when she saw that he survived with undiminished and even increased influence, and that her and Anjou's complicity in the attempt could not be concealed, she struck out another programme. All this appears to be established by conclusive proofs. And yet, on the other hand, there are facts going to show that the thought of cutting off the Huguenot leaders had long haunted Catherine's mind ; and that she even shaped the course of events in such a way as to enable her, if she found it expedient, to convert this thought into a definite purpose, and to carry it out in the deed. The destruction of the Huguenot chiefs, as a means of paralyzing and crushing their party, had been recommended to her by Philip as early as 1560. At Bayonne, Alva had given her the same counsel. He had himself acted on his theory in the treacherous seizure and execution of Egmont and Horn. These things must have made the idea familiar to Catherine. In 15Y0, the Yenetian Ambassador says that it was generally thought that it would be enough to strike off five or six heads. It is, at least, a curious coincidence, that Catherine declared, after the massacre, that she took on herself the guilt of the murder of only six. It was Catherine who insisted that the wedding of Navarre should be at Paris. Other points she was willing to waive ; but not this. What was her motive, unless it was to collect the Huguenots in a place where they would be in her power ? THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 81 In January, 1572, the Papal Legate wi-ote to Rome, that he had failed in all his efforts ; yet there were some things, which he conld only verbally report, which were not wholly imfavorable. Cardinal Salviati, a Florentine, a relative of the Medici, and intimate with Catherine, had informed Pius Y. that there was a secret plan favorable to the Catholics. After the massacre, Catherine reminded the Nuncio of the word that she had sent to the Pope, that he would see how she and her son would avenge themselves on the Huguenots. Facts of this nature appear to contradict the conclusion to which the general current of evidence leads us. They jus- tify the inference, not that Catherine had resolved upon the deed, but that she was glad, even while pursuing an oppo- site policy, to provide herself with the means of doing it. Other princes of that day — Queen Elizabeth, for example — were fond of having two strings to their bow. While pur- suing one policy, Elizabeth was fond of holding in her hand the threads of another and opposite line of conduct. In this double intent of Catherine de Medici, we are presented, as Ranke has said, with a psychological problem, such as one occasionally meets with in historical study. It is like the question of Mary Stuart's participation in the murder of Darnley. These are problems which the philosopher and the poet are most competent to solve. They require, as the same great historian has said, an insight into the deep and complicated springs of action in the soul — the profound "abysses where the storms of passion rage," and where strange and appalling crimes have their birth. It would seem as if, in the brain of this devilish woman, whose depth of deceit she herself could hardly fathom, there were weav- ing at once two plots. While she was moving on one path, she was secretly making ready, should the occasion arise, to spring to another. If all should go well in amity with the Huguenots, she would be content ; but if not, they would be helpless in her hands. Not only was she double-tongued, but she was double-minded ; there was duplicity in her in- 32 THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. most thoughts and designs. But this occult thought, which finally developed into purpose and act, was confined to her- self. The king had no share in it. Like Pilate, he gave consent. His crime was that he yielded to the pressure brought upon him by his inhuman mother and her confeder- ates, and authorized a crime a parallel to which can be found only by going back of all Christian ages, to the bloody pro- scriptions of heathen Rome.* It is interesting to glance at the fate of the authors of the massacre. Less than two years after, on the 30th of May, 1574, Charles IX. died. On his death-bed, his brief inter- vals of sleep were disturbed by horrible visions. He suffered from violent hemorrhages, and sometimes awoke bathed in blood, which recalled to his mind the torrents of blood shed by his orders on that dreadful night. In his dreams he be- held the bodies of the dead floating upon the Seine, and heard their agonizing cries. Anjou — Henry III. — more guilty than he, mounted the throne. But Guise, his rival, the idol of the League, stole away the hearts of the people. He enjoyed the reality of power, and there was danger that he might get the crown too. On the 23d of September, 1588, in the chateau of Blois, where the Estates were assem- bled, Henry of Guise was invited to the cabinet of the king. As he crossed the threshold, by the order of Henry HI. he was stabbed and thrown down by men belonging to the king's body-guard, and after a short but desperate resistance, was killed at the foot of the king's bed. The Cardinal of * On the question whether the massacre had been planned long before, there are three opinions. That it was so planned is maintained, among others, in an elaborate argument by Sir James Mackintosh, in his History of England^ vol. iii. That there was no such premeditation is, at pres- ent, the more general opinion. It is clearly set forth by Professor Baird, in his recent History of the Rise of the Huguenots. The middle view which attributes to the Queen Mother a dual plot, is that maintained by Ranke, and appears to me to match best the evidence, collectively taken. Extracts from Salviati's despatches, as copied by Chateaubriand, are in the Appendix of Mackintosh, vol. iiL THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 33 Lorraine, the brother of Guise, was seized and executed. The Cardinal of Bourbon was placed under arrest. Cathe- rine de Medici was at this time laboring under a mortal ill- ness. Her son had renounced her counsels, power had slipped from her hands, and she had become an object of general aversion and contempt. Her apartment was directly under that in which Guise had been struck down, and the sounds of the deadly struggle reached her ears. When she learned what had occurred, she saw that the murder boded no good to the king. She rallied her strength and visited the Cardinal of Bourbon. He charged everything upon her ; she could not rest, he told her, until she had brought all to the slaughter. In this scene, pale and haggard — like the wife of Macbeth, " troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from her rest " — she appears on the stage for the last time. In full view of the danger that impended over her son, and of the ruin of her house, she expired. Soon Henry III. w^as obliged to fly from the anathemas of the Sorbonne, and the wrath of the League, to the camp of Henry lY. There, on the 1st of August, 1589, a fanatical Dominican priest, Clement, by name, came to him, pretend- ing to have secrets of importance to communicate. The king bent his ear to listen, but was immediately heard to cry out : " Ah ! the villainous monk — he has killed me ! " Clement had drawn a knife from his sleeve and buried it in his body. Henry lingered for eighteen hours ; and then the last of the four principal conspirators who planned the Mas- sacre of St. Bartholomew, and the last king of the line of Yalois, died. 34: THE OLD KOMAN SPIRIT AND RELIGION THE OLD ROMAN SPIRIT AND RELIGION IN LATIN CHRISTIANITY.* Ancient Christianity passed through three consecutive stages : it was first Jewish, then Greek, then Latin. Greek Christianity and Latin Christianity each became permanent, but diverged from one another, and grew at length to be distinct. Each of these types of Christianity planted itself among new nations, and imderwent a development of its own — in the case of Latin Christianity, a development full of vitality, and entering as a prime element into the growth of European civilization. Christianity was at first of necessity Jewish. Its founders were of that nation. It had an organic connection with the religion and life of the Hebrew people. Jerusalem was the metropolis of the church in the apostolic age. It still re- mained '^ the Holy City." Thither the apostles resorted as to a common hearth-stone, and there one or more of them almost constantly resided. To the church at Jerusalem per- plexed and disputed questions, like that of the requirements to be made of gentile converts, were naturally brought. There was the mother-church, to which tile Christians scat- tered abroad turned with somewhat of the samQ feeling with which the Jewish diaspora had looked to their Judean brethren. To that church the apostle to the gentiles, tena- cious as he was of his independence, chose to carry reports of his missionary labors, and to manifest his loyal regard by bringing to it from afar contributions of money for the re- lief of the poor. * An Article in The Princeton Review for January, 1880. IN LATIN CHRISTIANITY. 35 But Christianity rapidly passed beyond the Jewish period. An Asiatic religion in its origin, it was destined to find the most hospital welcome and most secure abode in Europe. The gentile converts rapidly preponderated in number over the Jewish. The obsolescent character of the Old Testa- ment rites was more and more clearly discerned. . Circum- cision and sacrifice were seen to be things of the past, and national privileges and distinctions melted away in propor- tion as the spiritual and universal character of the Gospel — a religion not for the Jew only, but for man — ^was distinctly perceived. The crushing of the Jewish nationality by the overwhelming powder of the Romans precipitated the com- pletion of the great change. The soldier of Titus who, on the 15th of July in the year 70, flung a blazing brand into the Temple, was an unconscious instrument of Providence for breaking up the Judaic centre of Christianity. That act was a signal of a new order of things, marking the dissolu- tion of the bond which held the church in a certain depen- dent relation to Jewish Christianity. For the century that followed the capture of Jerusalem by Titus and the death of Paul and of Peter, Christianity was everywhere predominantly Greek. The canonical gos- pels, with the possible exception of the first, were written in that language, and the Hebrew original of Matthew was early superseded by a Greek edition of that gospel. The apostles wrote their epistles in that cosmopolitan language, the common vehicle of communication wherever they went. Religious services, even among the Christians at Rome, were in the Greek tongue. Tlieological discussion was canied forward almost exclusively by Greeks. It was long before any important writer of Latin extraction, or employing the Latin in his works, appeared. I^ot only Clement of Alex- andria, and Origen after him, but Justin Martyr, the most conspicuous of the Apologists of the second century, and Irenseus, who was born in Asia Minor, but was a bishop at Lyons and the most eminent literary adversary of Gnostic IVC ^ o^ i4 » ».\ \ 36 THE OLD ROMAN SPIRIT AND RELIGION heresies in that period, were Greek writers. The first theo- logical author of note who wrote in Latin was the North African father, Tertullian, early in the third centuiy. His style, though its peculiar roughness springs in part from his impetuous fervor and the hru^querie of his temper, shows how ill-adapted the Latin was to serve as a medium for Christian thought and for theological debate, compared with that flexible and subtle language in which the truths of the Gospel had before been incorporated. Theological activity in the early centuries continued predominantly on the Greek side. The discussions of the Trinity and of the person of Christ, which gave rise to the great councils of Nicea, Con- stantinople, and Chalcedon, were carried forward in the East. When Alexandria, Antioch, Ephesus, and the other cities of the East resounded with the din of theological strife, the West was, for the most part, little more than a passive spec- tator of the conflict. All the while, however, Latin Chris- tianity was growing up into distinct life, and the Koman See was gathering to itself power. Whilst the East was spending its energies in warfare upon the profound and in- tricate themes of speculative theology, the West was cement- ing its polity, and quietly accepted every opportunity to aug- ment the authority of its chief bishop. One means of the advancement of his power was the consideration with which he was regarded by the discordant parties, who not unfre- quently, from motives of policy, vied with one another in efforts to win his countenance and support. During this whole formative period, and down to the ex- tinction of paganism, the church was exposed to heathen in- fluences. Christianity, to be sure, was from the first aggres- sive. There was a perpetual conflict between the new faith and the devotees of the old religion. The Gospel was to act as a leaven in the midst of pagan society, rejecting what was evil, and permeating and preserving what was right and in- nocent. But what security was there that the discrimination would always be correctly made ? If there was asceticism IN LA'l'IN CHKISTIANITY. 37 on the one hand, might there not arise a lax liberalism, an unwarrantable accommodation and indulgence, on the other ? The disciples were not taken out of the world ; would they be wholly kept from the evil that is in it? Would not heathenism, which was entwined with every institution of society, which in a thousand forms confronted the Christian fi'om his infancy to old age, which had inwoven itself, so to' speak, in the whole texture of life, succeed in silently in- fusing something of its spirit, its beliefs, and its customs into the Christian community ? Would the Christian creed be maintained incorrupt ? Would Christian worship keep up its pure, spiritual character ? Would Christian conduct be kept free from the demoralizing effect of heathen education and example ? If we find traces of paganism in ancient Christianity, there is no occasion for wonder, and it is no just ground of reproach against Christianity itself. Rather does the Gospel show its intrinsic vitality in not being stifled by doctrines and ceremonies heaped upon it, though alien to its nature, and in eventually proving itself sufficient to purify itself of these foreign, corrupt elements, thus regain- ing its native purity. The church was far more exposed to the infection of heathen opinions and practices after it grew in numbers, and especially after the conversion of Constantino, when it be- came dominant, and remained, save during the brief period of Julian's reign, the religion of the empire. In the first three centuries, the martyr-age of the church, it stood forth as a persecuted sect, and was far less likely to catch the spirit or imitate the ways of the worshippers by whom it was sub- jected to imprisonment, torture, and death, either by the in- strumentality of magistrates, or because left by them a victim to the violence of fanatical mobs. In the field of theology the church had early roused itself against the swarm of he- resiarchs and heretical sects which sought to amalgamate Christianity with Greek speculation and the fantastic dreams of Oriental philosophy. The battle with Gnosticism was 38 THE OLD SOMAN SPIRIT AND BELIGION fouglit and won. Judaizing Christianity had likewise re- ceived its death-blow, and its pertinacious votaries, pushed outside the pale of orthodoxy, had been left to prolong their existence as isolated, heterodox parties. It must not be for- gotten that heathenism was virtually overcome, the complete triumph of Christianity was insured, before the faith and worship of Christians had' undergone essential depravation through the retroactive influence of paganism. Compara- tively speaking the first three centuries were pure. The victory of the Gospel was practically achieved by legitimate means. It was a victory fairly won. It was not by incau- tious compromise, it was not by timid surrender, that the Christian religion gained that firm footing in the Roman world from which it could not have been dislodged. The old religion was put on the road to extinction in the better and purer era which followed the first introduction and dis- semination of the Gospel. The fourth and fifth centuries are the period when the baleful influence of heathenism was chiefly felt ; and it was during this period that tendencies in the wrong direction, which, so far as they had existed previously, were kept within bounds, attained to a rank de- velopment. Constantine himself, in the mingling of Chris- tian and heathen opinions, tempers, and practices — the ad- mixture of gospel faith and pagan superstition — which be- longed to his character, was no unfit type of the mixed sys- tem which both his personal example and public policy tended to foster. It was in the fourth and fifth centuries that the rage for ecclesiastical miracles manifested itself. Then these supposed miracles were multiplied far beyond anything of the kind in the preceding period. This single feature of these later centuries may be taken as one sign of the altered temper of the church. After the emperors pro- fessed Christianity, it became popular with the indifferent and self-seeking, who found their profit in adopting the re- ligion of the cross. The inducements held out to produce conversion, in the shape of court patronage, offices, and IN LATIN CHRISTIANITY. 39 other mercenary appeals, brought into the church a multi- tude of insincere or selfish proselytes. The ambition to swell the ranks of the baptized, stimulated many to make concessions to heathen tastes and preferences, and to pur- chase a superficial adhesion by a toleration of pagan customs, or by the introduction of usages not dissimilar to them. To not a few an immediate, seeming success was more attrac- tive than a slower but more thorough advance. As the dread of heathen opposition passed away, the teachers of Christianity grew less vigilant, and concessions were insensi- bly made, such as threats and violence had not been able to extort. It was far more easy to withstand a direct attack than an infection. In treating of the influence of heathenism upon the church, several cautions are requisite : ' 1. It is to be observed that similitude in the case of reli- gious phenomena does not always imply identity of origin. Beliefs, ceremonies, may exhibit a striking resemblance where there is no genetic connection. It is often rash to infer that an opinion or rite is derived from a particular quarter simply on the ground of likeness. The common source may be in impulses of human nature itself. The generic qualities of man being the same in all times and in every latitude, it would be surprising if in the religious sphere, as elsewhere, there should not frequently be a marked likeness in the actions of the human mind, whether the spring of them be sound or corrupt. The historical student perpetually meets with similar religious phenomena, with opinions, sects, and rites, in places and times remote from one another, and under circumstances where no com- munication can possibly be assumed. In the same commu- nity such phenomena may arise independently. There may be an epidemic where there is no contagion. No one famil- iar with the history of religion can inspect a village of Shakers, in Massachusetts, without being reminded of other societies, such as the Jewish Essenes, the Egj^tian Thera- 40 THE OLD ROMAN SPIRIT AND RELIGION peutse, and numerous widely-scattered monastic communi- ties which have existed under the shield of the church or in the ancient ethnic religions of the East. Yet there is no genetic bond between these modern sects in Kew England and the various communities referred to. The same impulses of human nature which generated any one of these commu- nistic societies might give birth to any other. The Oxford Tractarian movement of the present century — to take an- other illustration — was Judaizing in its spirit. Dr. Arnold saw in it the very thing which the Apostle Paul denounced in the Epistles to the Galatians and Colossians. There was the same misconception of the Gospel, the same attempt to amal- gamate with it heterogeneous principles. Yet the leaders of Puseyism stood in no direct line of connection with the Judaizing party which gave Paul so much trouble. Those leaders did not learn their lesson, they did not borrow their distinguishing tenets, from their ancient prototypes. Ten- dencies of the mind which were rife in the early days of Christianity revived and bore their natural fruit indepen- dently, and under circumstances quite different. Whately wrote a book in which he traced, with his usual sagacity, the corruptions of Pomanism to their origin in certain ap- petencies of human nature. 2. The points in which the church in the patristic age departed from the spirit of primitive Christianity result not wholly from the influence of heathenism, but in an impor- tant degree from the adoption of characteristic principles of the ancient Jewish Church. Poman Catholicism is, in some essential features, a return to the old dispensation. It is a restoration of parts of the Old Testament religion which the Gospel abolished. These discarded elements, outgrown in the later stage of Pevelation, and giving way in the 'Gospel to something better, insensibly came back and incorporated themselves in the conceptions of Christian people and in the institutions of the church. This is eminently true of the prime corruption of Christianity, the doctrine of a special IN LATIN CHRISTIANITY. 4:1 mediatorial priesthood — a class of heaven-appointed inter- cessors, and almoners of divine grace. Peter, in whom hier- archical supremacy is supposed to have first inhered, and by whom it is thought to have been transmitted to the succes- sive bishops of Rome, himself styled his fellow-disciples generally " a chosen generation, a royal po'iesthood, a pecu- liar people," whose office and privilege it was to celebrate the praises of God (1 Peter, ii. 9). This distinction of an immediate access to God- which of old had belonged exclu- sively to the priests who ministered in the Temple, was made by Christ the prerogative of all believers. But more and more, as the church receded from the apostolic age, and the absolutely gratuitous character of forgiveness became obscured, the instinctive craving for priestly mediation led to a perversion of the Gospel, to the surrender of the exalted distinction conferred on all Christians, and to the imputation to the clergy of an ofiice analogous to that of the Aaronic order. The ramifications of this erroneous idea, securing thus a lodgement in the Christian mind, were far-reaching. Its effects on the constitution of the church, on the preroga- tives of the ministry, and on Christian worship and life, were grave and enduring. Now this revolution, silently accom- plished in the first centuries, was, as I have said. Judaic in its character. Not that it was due to the conscious efforts of a Judaizing party, existing by itself and deliberately pur- suing this end. The Judaizers, whose explicit effort it was to assimilate Christianity to the Old Testament system, had been foiled. They had been vanquished. Pauline Chris- tianity gained the ascendancy over its adversaries. The authority of the Apostle Paul, in the second century as well as in the third, was held in due respect by the churches, and was disparaged only by sectaries and factions. But the Judaic transformation of which we are speaking crept in after this first great contest had been decided and the right side had triumphed. It arose in connection with a grad- ual transformation of theology in a legal direction, and as a 4b:s THE OLD EOMAN SPIRIT AlTD RELIGION consequence of tlie quiet but powerful operation of general causes. The Old Testament Scriptures were in the hands of the early Christians. They were read in the churches. They were quoted — at first with more verbal accuracy than the writings of the apostles. The * relation of Christ to Moses, of the new dispensation to the old, was not accurately de- fined. Even now Christian theologians do not always agree' in formulating this relation. The Gnostics had assaulted the Old Testament, and disparaged the ancient church and religion with which the Gospel was known and felt to be somehow organically connected. These circumstances, how- ever, would have been quite insufficient to produce the revo- lution to which we have adverted, had not the natural, spontaneous desire of human, visible mediation rendered the notion of a special priesthood congenial to the minds of men.- The elevation of the ministry to the rank of a priest- hood did not arise, then, from a formal usurpation on their own part. It w^as due mainly to a willing descent of the people to a lower plane of religion, which was guided and accelerated by the example of the system that w^as present to their eyes on the pages of the ancient Scriptures. The classical heathenism, therefore, is only in a very limited de- gree responsible for the intrusion of this idea, so portentous in its bearing on the history of the Christian church. 3. It is not to be inferred forthwith that everything which the church took up from the environment in which it was placed was of the nature of corruption. The theory of de- velopment, as it is expounded by Dr. Kewman, although it requires much correction and qualification, contains in it a kernel of valuable truth. Christianity and the church w^ere not something absolutely fixed and immovable within limits set about them at the start. Christianity was to unfold its contents in contact with humanity, and to stamp wdth its approval whatever was true and good in the thinking and life of the communities into which it was to enter, and which it was to leaven with its spirit. The church was not rigidly IN LATIN CHRISTIANITY. 43 shut lip to an inflexible method of polity or to an established round of worship. It might lawfully adapt itself to nation- al peculiarities ; it might conform itself to all the varying circumstances in the midst of which it was to do its work. That work was to regenerate, not to extinguish, humanity. The truth on this subject seems to be that development must take place, if it take place aright, on the lines sanctioned in the New Testament, and also that on these lines nothing must be pushed to excess. Mozley, in his acute review of Newman's Essay, has shown that the natural tendency to ex- aggeration and excess is sufficient of itself to engender cor- ruption if this tendency is not held in check. It is not suffi- cient that a particular sentiment is in itself innocent; it becomes evil and dangerous the moment it is pushed into undue prominence or allowed to expand itself beyond meas- ure. There is a source of corruption which is distinct from the mingling of false ideas — germs intrinsically pernicious. For example, the worship of the Virgin, which we find in the church of the fourth and fifth centuries, may be called, and is called by Dr. Newman, the development of the senti- ments entertained towards Mary by the early Christians, by whom she was regarded as the most blessed of women. But was it not an excessive, an unhealthy, a pernicious ex- pansion of a feeling which was right and wholesome only when kept within a definite limit ? Rashness may be caUed a development of courage, foolhardiness and audacity the offshoot of boldness, timidity the product of prudence, stinginess of frugality, etc. There are many plants which need to be trimmed, and whose growth must be kept down ; otherwise their fruit is bad. The conclusion is that what- ever in the theology, the polity, the ethics, or the ritual of the church is at variance with the injunctions, or with the more intangible genius and spirit of the New Testament, is worthy of condemnation. Whatever is not thus antagonis- tic to the standard, even though it may not be explicitly set forth there, is amenable to criticism, to be sure, but is not 4:4 THE OLD ROMAN SPIEIT AND EELIGION of necessity to be discarded. Between things enjoined and things forbidden there is a middle district, where, in the ab- sence of written law, there is no guide but a wise Christian judgment. It was the whole church, the church in the East as well as the West, that was modified by the influence of heathen- ism in the early ages. We have to notice both the effects which were due to the antique spirit in general, to which Christians were everyw^here exposed, and which left its mark upon Greek as well as Latin Christianity, and also, more particularly, the effects upon Latin Christianity, owing to the peculiar conditions in which it was placed. There was a general heathen influence, and a peculiar Latin influence superadded. The world in which the Gospel was dissemi- nated was Graeco-Roman. I^otwithstanding all that tended to' render " the monarchy of the Mediterranean " homoge- neous, there was always an East and a West, separated, to be sure, by a fluctuating line, but characterized distinctly by the prevalence in the one of the Greek and in the other of the Latin influence. The division of the empire into the Eastern and Western, and later the corresponding division of the church, was not merely geographical, but was based on an essential diversity of character. Accordingly, the bent of theology was different in the East from that which was prevalent in the Western mind. Ecclesiastical organi- zation and life shaped themselves differently in the countries where the Latin tongue and the spirit of Rome had sway ; so that the Latin Church is a fit designation of the church of the West. So Latin Christianity is obviously diverse in character from the German or Teutonic Christianity, which finally broke loose from the tutelage of Rome, and at the Reformation separated itself, by a line nearly coincident with the race-division, from the Latin communion. To this last contrast we shall soon advert again. There are several points in which the distinctively Latin spirit transmitted it- self to the Latin Church. IN LATIN CHRISTIANITY. 4:5 1. We see plainly in tlie Latin Cliiircli the Roman genius for rule — tlie capacity and disposition to exercise authority. This quality, which Yirgil attributes to his countrymen as a native trait,* and which the growth of Roman power and its long duration illustrate, appears to have passed over to the Roman Church and its bishops. A recently-recovered pas- sage of the earliest extant Christian writing after the apos- tles — the Epistle of Clement to the Corinthians — contains an admonition, almost authoritative in its tone, addressed to them by the Roman Church, in whose name Clement wrote. To be sure, had not circumstances all conspired to favor the upbuilding of the Roman ecclesiastical supremacy, no such domination could have arisen. But with the same truth it may be said that the talent and spirit of rule were an equal- ly indispensable condition. The love of order, the will to check insubordination wherever deference and obedience are conceived of as obligatory, were tendencies of the Roman mind which appeared in full vigor in the incumbents of the chair of St. Peter. For the papacy remained an Italian institution. It was built up, and its policy was moulded, by men in whom the old Latin spirit never .died out. Leo L, at the crisis when the empire was falling in ruins about him, wielding the scep- tre of spiritual supremacy over distant provinces ; interposing to protect society from anarchy ; going forth to the camp of Attila to save Rome from his destroying host, and endeavor- ing, even though with but partial success, to shield the Ro- mans from Genseric and his Yandal army ; Gregory L, ex- ercising his pontifical rule in the midst of political tumult and disorder, and sending forth missionaries for the con- quest of new nations to the faith ; Hildebrand, insisting on the right of the church to govern itself independently of lay authority ; demanding of king as well as priest absolute submission ; sitting for days in the castle of Canossa, while • um. vi. 847-853. 46 THE OLD ROMAN 8PIEIT AND RELIGION an emperor stood without in the court-yard praying for ad- mission ; Innocent III., giving away crowns, and despatch- ing his legates to lay kingdoms under the Interdict — in these great ecclesiastics, the leaders and rulers of men, the old Roman dictators and proconsuls seem once more to have clothed themselves in flesh. There can be no doubt that from an early day the bishops of Eome found it more nat- ural and easy to assume authority for the reason that Rome was their abode. It had been a place of authority with which no other seat of power, ancient or modern, can be compared. It seemed to be only right and natural that Rome should rule. It was an association that affected the minds of the incumbents of the Roman See, as well as of the peoples whose allegiance they claimed. 2. Closely allied to the quality just mentioned is what we may call the idea of imperialism. How easy it was for the Latin mind to associate this idea with the church ! To unify the church by combining all its parts in a common subjec- tion to Rome was a thought natural to Roman Christianity. The empire and the church were conceived to be each the counterpart of the other. In making Rome the capital of the empire, God had intended that it should be the metrop- olis of the church. Peter and his successors were to be to the ecclesiastical commonwealth what the Caesars had been to the civil. The emperors of the West in the fifth century lent their aid to the propagation and practical realization of this idea. When everything tended to disintegration, the rulers of the state welcomed the unifying influence of the Roman ecclesiastical supremacy. " Peace " — so runs a law of Valentinian III., in 445 — " Peace can be universally preserved only when the whole church acknowledges its ruler." This was a policy directly contrary to that of the Byzantine princes in relation to the Eastern church, whose independence they destroyed. When the Western empire was broken up, and while it was so curtailed in its bounda- ries as to embrace only Germany and Italy, the outlying m LATIN CHRISTIANITY. 47 countries, long accustomed to tlie idea of imperial unity, saw no substitute for it except the spiritual rule of the popes. Koman, imperialism contributed, in a variety of ways, to en- gender and sustain imperialism in the church. 3. The most conspicuous among the features of the Latin Church which it inherited from old Rome was the legal spirit. The comparative indifference with which the ancient Latin Church looked on the controversies in speculative di- vinity which convulsed the East, and the ardor with which the same Latin Church, in the fourth and fifth centuries, plunged into the discussions pertaining to the doctrines of sin, of free-will, and of the operation of divine grace, have often been pointed out. Mr. Maine thinks that the histo- rians of the church have come near but have not quite hit the solution, in referring this phenomenon to the " practi- cal " character of the Roman mind. The reason he declares to be that, " in passing from the East to the West, theologi- cal speculation had passed from a climate of Greek meta- physics to a climate of Roman law." Yes ; but what created this diversity of climates ? Was it not an ingrained philo- , sophical turn in the Greek mind — " the Greeks seek after wisdom " — and an opposite bent of the Roman mind, which is properly described by the epithet " practical " ? Roman politics, Roman jurisprudence, were the fruit of that peculiar temper of the people which created the atmosphere of which Mr. Maine speaks, and which the historians of theology have by no means overlooked. That the familiar principles and problems of the Roman law affected Latin theology there is no question. " Almost everybody who has knowledge enough of Roman law to appreciate the Roman penal system, the Roman theory of the obligations established by contract or delict, the Roman view of debts and of the modes of incur- ring, extinguishing, and transmitting them, the Roman no- tion of the continuance of individual existence by universal succession, may be trusted to say whence arose the frame of «nind to which the problems of Western theology proved so 48 THE OLD ROIMAN" SPIEIT AND RELIGION congenial, whence came the phraseology in which these problems were stated, and whence the description of reason- ing employed in their solution." * The lioman law which " worked itself into Western thought " was not the modern civil law, but the philosophy of jurisprudence which "may be partially reproduced from the Pandects of Justinian," As to legal phraseology, it is interesting to notice the recur- rence of terms from this source in the first Latin theological writer of prominence, Tertullian, who had been a student of Roman law and forensic eloquence before he embraced the ecclesiastical profession. He entitles one of his books " De prsescriptione hsereticorum." The term prcBscrvptio was a legal word signifying a demurrer, or something which shut a litigant out of court and closed his mouth. The fact which constitutes the prcBsorvptio, levelled by Tertullian at the per- verters of the Gospel, is the tradition of the apostles' teach- ing which is preserved in the churches. That the churches, so recently founded by the apostles, knew nothing of these heretical opinions was a bar to controversy, and determined the case at once. Tertullian in two other treatises intro- duces the legal word satuf actio (or the cognate verb), not to denote the atonement of Christ, to which it was after- wards applied, but rather as a description of penance, or of the self-imposed manifestations of penitence. In fasting a man " satisfies God " by denying himself food, in the im- moderate partaking of which he has offended him. f It is seemly for a woman to clothe herself in humble attire, that by every garb of satisfaction (satisfactionis) she may expi- ate the ignominy which she derives from Eve. % In follow- ing down the stream of Latin theology, from Augustine to the latest of the schoolmen, we might trace, in the handling of such topics as sin, the atonement, penance, indulgences, absolution, the silent influence of the conceptions which Ro- man jurisprudence had made current. Augustine, it may * Andmt Law^ p. 347. f De Jejun.^ c. 3. X De Cult. Femm.^ I., i. IN LATIN CHRISTIANITY. 49 be added, was, in his whole genius and training, a Latin theologian. It is true that he was fascinated with Plato- nism. But he knew little Greek. He received his training in the schools of rhetoric. His reading was mainly in the Roman classics. The themes on which his mind was exer- cised were those which we have pointed out as chiefly inter- esting to the Latin mind. The word " Augustinism " denotes certain tenets respecting the bondage of the will under sin, and the operation of grace in delivering it. And Augus- tine's influence was dominant for a thousand years in the Western church. Apart from favorite inquiries in theology, the Eoman Catholic Church is broadly contrasted with the Greek, in that the one has aimed more at the regulation of the life, at the management of the individual and of society, while the other has been mainly absorbed in maintaining orthodoxy of dogma. The epithet " orthodox," which the Greeks proudly assume, is significant of the spirit of their communion. To order the conduct of men as individuals, to sway the action of political societies, has been ever a lead- ing end of the Church of Rome. Herein it shows itself to be Roman. The contrast between Latin and Teutonic Christianity is hardly less striking. The ideal of ancient life, Greek as well as Roman, recognized everywhere restraint. Every- thing must be within measure. "Xothing too much" — nihil nimis — was the maxim which governed the creations of classical literature and art. Character and manners were subject to the same precept. There must be metes and bounds to all products of the imagination. Conduct must be shaped by rules. Especially did the Roman mind insist upon rigidly defining what is to be done. The old Roman religion was punctilious, formal, ritualistic. Salvation was by works. Worship must be carried forward in a prescribed manner. Each god must have his due, and was to be decor- ously honored. The Teutonic mind is spiritual, full of as- piration, chafing under the yoke of rules and forms. We 3 50 THE OLD ROMAN SPIRIT AND RELIGION see the Teutonic genius in the Gothic architecture, and in Shakespeare. The principle of personal independence — that element in European civilization — is ascribed by Guizot g,nd other historians to the Germanic influence. The ideal, spiritual tendency of the German mind appeared in the mysticism of the latter part of the middle ages, which was the soil from which the Reformation sprang up. Hegel as- cribes the Reformation to the " alte und durch und durch bewahrte Innigkeit des deutschen Yolkes," * which was not satisfied to approach God by proxy, or put religion outside of the soul, in sacraments and ceremonies, or make the vote of a council of priests the criterion of truth. The Teutonic mind revolted against the legalism which entered into the warp and woof of the Latin theology, and it craved an im- mediate access to the heavenly good offered in the Gospel. Personal communion with God, founded on the free forgive- ness of sin — the intimate communion of a child with a father — could alone meet the deep want of the spirit. Hence, when the banner of Protestantism was unfurled, the Ger- manic peoples, one after another, with alacrity ranged them- selves under it. From these general characteristics of the Latin Church, in which the old Roman leaven discovers itself, let us turn to consider certain more definite traces of assimilation to that ancient paganism which Christianity supplanted. 1. The sort of polytheism introduced through the cultus of angels and of saints. Angelic beings, good and evil, were a prominent element in the current Jewish theology when the Gospel was first preached. Their existence and agency are recognized in the New Testament. But in the early church they came to hold a much more conspicuous place in the thoughts of Christians. Individuals, as well as nations, had each his tutelary angel, who watched over him. Some- times it was held that each person is attended by two spirits, * Phil, der Gesch., Werke^ b. ix. 499 seq. m LATEST CHEISTIANrrr. 61 one bad and the other good. The strict monotheism with which Christians were so thoroughly imbued at first, and the express prohibitions of the New Testament, long prevented them from addressing supplications to those invisible guar- dians. Ambrose, in the fourth century, is the first author quoted as countenancing this practice. " Obsecrandi sunt an- geli, qui nobis ad prsesidium dati sunt," are his words. The meaning is simply that angels are to be invoked to intercede for us. It was held that they carry the prayers of the disciple up to God. Hence it was natural that they, being within hear- ing, should be asked to intercede. But this perilous sort of intercourse with supernatural companions not divine did not stop at this point. Gradually angels came to be themselves the objects of homage and of a species of worship which, however, was theoretically distinguished fi'om that due to God and to Christ. The custom spread of appealing to them for other benefits than mere intercession. To this host of \ secondary, inferior divinities, close at hand to hear prayer and to bestow blessings, there were added a throng of martyrs and saints. The sanctity of martyrs caused their intercessory prayers, while they were alive, to be highly prized. The practice of appealing to them after their death, especially in the vicinity of their mortal remains, where it was imagined that their spirits lingered, easily gained a foot- hold. It was natural to look to these departed worthies for other good offices ; and so martyr- worship grew up by the side of angel- worship. Then there were eminent saints who had died a natural death — ^holy monks, for example — and to these supplications might with, equal reason, be directed. The indefinite fraternal remembrance of departed saints in the prayers connected with the Eucharist gradually trans- formed itself into a species of worship of them. Prayers were offered to them instead (A for them. These beliefs and practices approximated Christianity to the contemporaneous heathenism, which tended to the doc- trine of the divine unity, and reduced the gods of the Pan- 52 THE OLD ROMAN SPIRIT AND RELIGION tlieon to the rank of subordinates and instruments of the Supreme Power. Plutarch had ascribed much that was of- fensive in the old mythology to demons — inferior beings. The gods of the heathen were admitted even by Christians really to exist, but were considered to be evil, to be demons in the bad sense of the term. The worship of heroes and the deification of the emperors furnished human objects of heathen devotion. A heathen of the fourth or the fifth century had only to substitute angels for the old subordinate divini- ties, the worship of martyrs and saints for the adoration of heroes, and of emperors whom, after they had abjured the old paganism, it was awkward to deify. He had before be- lieved in his protecting genius, who was honored on birth- days and might be invoked in any emergency. The atten- dant spirit he had only to christen as a guardian angel. Kot that Christian worship sank down to the level of the former idolatry. The Christian doctrine respecting God, his exalted nature, and his holy attributes, might be obscured, and in a degree imperilled ; yet that doctrine continued to be taught. I^Tevertheless the heathen mind could find in the Christian system the counterpart of what it had cherished. This facilitated the transition from one system to another. And this resemblance was due, to a considerable extent, to the silent influence of paganism on the church. 2. The localizing of worship. The feeling that God dwelleth not in temples made with hands, that neither to Mt. Gerizim nor to the Sanctuary of Jerusalem is the wor- shipper obliged to resort, but that the real temple is the human soul, was very much qualified after the church emerged from the age of persecution, came forth from the catacombs, found it safe to erect costly edifices, and began to vie with the heathen in seeking for pomp and impressive- ness in the services of religion. Under the Christian em- perors heathen temples in many instances were handed over to Christians. In tlie interval between Valerian and Diocle- tian, while there was rest from persecution, splendid edifices IN LATIN CHKI8TIANITY. 53 « were built for Christian worship. The last great persecu- tion, that under Diocletian, was signalized in its beginning by the destruction of one of them, the church at Nicomedia. A mysterious sanctity gradually attached itself to these places of worship. In the fourth century the names of saints came to be connected with them ; not at first under the idea that the churches were consecrated to them, but the saint whose name was afl&xed to the edifice was looked upon as a special patron and protector. It was not very long, however, before the church became a shrine for the chltus of the saint whose name it bore, and before churches came to be dedicated to these human objects of religious venera- tion. The graves of martyrs collected about them assem- blies for religious worship, especially on the anniversaries of their death. Churches and altars were reared over their re- mains. The bodies of departed saints were deposited in churches. Special efiicacy was attributed to the devotions practised in the neighborhood of these relics. It was an old pagan tenet that cities and countries were blessed and pro- tected by the relics of fallen heroes. Cities in Greece had been built over the graves of their founders, and worship had been rendered to them. The superstitious belief in the continuance of miracles served to surround the hallowed centres of worship with a constantly increasing sacredness. 3. In hardly any particular was the deviation of the Latin from the primitive church more signal than in the introduc- tipn of images and pictures as instruments and objects of de- votion. An intense antipathy to everything of this sort had been derived by the gentile converts to Christianity from their Jewish brethren. As late as the close of the second centuiy- Clement of Alexandria speaks in condemnation of the art of painting altogether. TertuUian reproaches Her- mogenes with being a painter. Whether Tertullian objected to the art as being in itself deceptive, as the same zealous father denounces the masks worn by actors for the reason that they partake of fraud, or whether his objection is 64 THE OLD ROMAN SPERIT AND RELIGION grounded on the circumstance that the heretical artist made pictures for heathen worship, is not clear. The dates when pictorial representations of a religious sort were first intro- duced among Christians it is not easy precisely to determine. A very important source of knowledge on this whole sub- ject is the catacombs. But here the dates are quite uncer- tain. De Rossi and Mr. J. H. Parker differ very widely from one another in their judgments on this point. Paint- ings which De Rossi considers to be early Mr. Parker would place at a much later date. The main difficulty grows out of the fact that the pictures in these subterranean burial- places were subjected to a process of restoration in the sixth century and afterwards, by which the characteristics indica- tive of the time of their origin were very much obliterated. The first pictures were symbols — as the dove, the anchor, the shepherd with a lamb on his shoulder — which were sub- stituted on goblets and seal-rings, and on sepulchral inscrip- tions, for mythological representations in vogue among the heathen. At first the cross, though a common token among Christians, by which both the Saviour's death and the humility of the Christian profession were called to mind, was seldom depicted. Following upon this class of paint- ings were historical pictures of Scriptural events, such as the sacrifice of Isaac, under which, beyond the interest in the subject itself, was discerned a type of the suffering of Jesus. Then followed the portraiture of apostles and saints. It was long before any representation even of the man Christ Jesus was permitted, and longer still before his pic- ture was allowed in churches. Constantia, the sister of Con- stantino, sent to Eusebius a request that she might have an image of Jesus. In denying this request, Eusebius says : " Hast thou ever seen such a thing in a church thyself, or heard of it from another ? Have not such things been ban- ished throughout the whole world, and driven far off out of the churches ? " Constantia died in 354:. Images of Jesus, whether pictorial or in sculpture, were first used by hereti- IN LATIN CHBISTIANITY. 55 cal sects like the Carpocratians. Under Leo I. (440-461) the image of Christ is first heard of in a Koman church. For several centuries church teachers forbade homage of whatever kind to be offered to pictures. Augustine dis- countenances the practice of worshipping an image, and of praying with one's eyes fixed upon it. The Synod of Elvira in 305 or 306, in the 36th canon, expressly forbids the in- troduction of pictures into churches, and the paying of hom- age to them. The language of the council excludes that qualified sort of worship which the Latin Church afterwards sanctioned. " Ne quod colitur et adoratur " is the phrase.^ But after the fourth century the custom spread of depicting apostles, martyrs, and other individuals of high repute for their sanctity, or renowned for their beneficence, upon the walls of churches. Augustine allows that they were often worshipped by the illiterate. When paganism ceased to be feared as a dangerous foe, the spirit of resistance to practi- ces of this kind lost its force. Eoman Catholic scholars apologize for this innovation on the very ground that when the power of heathenism was broken, it was no longer needful to exclude the visible auxiliaries of Christian worship. It seems to be forgotten that these auxiliaries involved a revival of paganism in another form. It should be added that, in the fifth century, images of Christ and of the Madonna be- came common. It was in the medteeval era of the Latin Church, however, that the devotional use of images and pic- tures reached its height and engendered the worst abuses. It is a curious fact that the heathen were in the habit of kissing the images of their objects of worship, as is now the custom in the Roman Catholic Church, especially in South- ern Europe. Cicero states that the mouth and chin of the image of Hercules at Agrigentum were in this way worn smooth by the lips of devotees. Lucretius adverts to the * See Hefele's History of Councils, vol. i. Hefele evidently adopts the interpretation given above. 56 THE OLD ROMAN SPIRIT AND RELIGION fact that the hands of pagan statues were worn down and polished bj the kisses of those who passed bj. The same effect was produced that we see now on the toe of the statue of St. Peter. 4. The multiplying of festivals, including the substitution of heathen for Christian celebrations. Under the old hea- thenism, there were numerous festal days in honor of the various deities whose gifts were to be acknowledged and whose disfavor was to be deprecated. These, as we learn from the Eoman writers, were a serious draught upon the time of working people, and harmfully interrupted the labors of agriculture. Among Christians, in the first three centuries, there were but few festivals. Origen, in his book against Celsus, written in the latter part of his life — ^he died in 254 — makes mention of only three : the Parasceue (or Preparation), the Passover, and the feast of Pentecost. Clement of Alexandria, near the end of the second century, speaks of Epiphany as a festival of the heretical Basilidians ; and he clearly implies that there existed no commemoration of the nativity of Jesus. Toward the end of the third cen- tury, the feast of the Epiphany established itself in the Eastern church, but not until the second half of the fourth century did it spread in the West, where its significance was changed. It is first heard of in the West in 360. Christmas, on the contrary, a festival of Western origin, was not celebrated as a festival separate from Epiphany, in An- tioch, until the year 376. Chrysostom, in a sermon deliv- ered on the 25th of December, 386, states that it had ex- isted there for ten years. We find it fully established in Rome in the middle of the fourth century, and its origin as a distinct festival was probably not very long before. In connection with the close of the year there had existed a series of heathen festivals into which the Romans entered with extreme delight. First were the Saturnalia, the jubilee of Saturn or Kronos, which marked the close of farm-work for the year, when the reins were given to merriment, when EST LATIN CHRISTIANITY. 57 slaves could put on the clothes of gentlemen, and wear the badge of fi-eemen, and sit at a banquet, being waited on by their masters. Then came the Sigillaria (on the 21st and 22d of December), when the streets were thronged, gifts in- terchanged among friends, wax-tapers being given by the humble to superiors, and when many sports were allowed which resembled those of Christmas in our times or of a Roman carnival. Miniature images of the gods and all sorts of presents were given to the young. Then followed the Brumalia — from Bruma, the shortest day — in honor of the sun, and connected with the Persian sun-god, Mithras, whose cultus had been brought to Rome imder Domitian and Trajan. This festival — dies natalis invicti soils — after the synchronous festival of Christmas was established, con- tinued, as Augustine informs us, to tempt away Christians to a participation in its heathen observances. Leo I. com- plains that the custom of paying religious homage to the sun still lingered among many Christians. Even among the Greeks, as late as 691, a council — the second Trullan — ^f ound it necessary to prohibit Christians from taking part in the celebration of the Brumalia. It is not improbable that one motive for fixing the Christmas festival just at that time was to shield weak Christians from the seductive influence of the pagan and often unseemly festivities to which they had been accustomed. In justice to the church, it should be said, however, that, generally speaking, where there were heathen festivals which led to riotous excess, the season of their occurrence would be set apart for prayer and penitence. This was the case with the New Year's Festival of the hea- then, the CalendcB Januarice^ which was a scene of revelry. The festival of Christ's circumcision was transferred to the New Year — a festival utterly diverse in its origin and spirit from the boisterous heathen celebration occurring at the same time. The principal abuses in the church arose from the habit of commemorating martyrs and saints, the list of whom grew into an extensive catalogue. The Romans re- 3* 58 THE OLD EOMAN SPIRIT AND RELIGION garded the manes of their ancestors as in some sense divine. They presented to them not only sacrifices but other gifts, such as wine, milk, and garlands of flowers. They carried food to their sepulchres for the use of the dead. These banquets the Christians imitated by preparing feasts at the graves of the saints, of which these invisible beings were in- vited to partake. The little burial-chapels in the catacombs were places for the friends of the departed to meet in. There was sometimes a close parody of heathen myths and of the superstitions that grew out of them. On the 15th of July the Roman Catholic Church pays honor to Phocas, the patron-saint of sailors, who took the place of Castor and Pollux in the Christian mythology. He was said to have been a gardener at Sinope, and to have been put to death, under Diocletian, in 303. He was made the guardian saint of all who prosecuted voyages. Seamen sang songs in his praise. A place was set for him as an invisible guest at the table on shipboard, and on the safe arrival of the vessel in port his portion of its earnings was given to the poor. In this last act the benevolent spirit of the Gospel was mani- fest, connected though it was with superstitious fancies. Let the amount of direct heathen influence in giving rise to the commemoratibns of the church be estimated as it may be, there can be no doubt that the pagans found in the mul- tiplied Christian festivals a welcome surrogate for those which they were called upon to give up. 5. A great variety of customs and ceremonies, resembling those familiar to the heathen, but not included under the foregoing topics, were early adopted by the church. Votive offerings are deserving of special mention. Heathen tem- ples, especially the temples of ^Esculapius, were hung with gifts, left as tokens of gratitude for deliverance from sick- ness, accident, or some other kind of trouble. The Virgin and the saints were honored in a similar way ; and Christian churches exhibited, like the heathen sanctuaries, images of fingers, legs, and other parts of the body, made of silver or IN LATIN CHEISTIANITT. 59 some other substance, in connection with other offerings be- tokening thankfulness for rescue from suffering or danger. There were shrines where each particular disorder was sup- posed to be miraculously healed bj some special saint who made the victims of it the objects of his benevolent care. This was one of the occasions of the pilgrimages which, hav- ing been a heathen, now became a Christian usage. The pagans had been in the habit of resorting to the temples of ^sculapius, or Isis, or Serapis, in order that the god might teach them in their dreams in the night-time how to rid themselves of their diseases. So Christians betook them- selves to their churches, to the end that the saint whose image was enshrined within thtoi might, in like manner, inform them in their slumber how to regain their health. The introduction of incense among the ceremonies of wor- ship is a curious illustration of the incoming of heathen in- novations. The fathers of the second century, Athenagoras, Tertullian, Clement of Alexandria, contrast the worship of Christians in this particular with that of the heathen. " The Creator," says Athenagoras, " does not require blood, nor smoke^ nor the sweet smell of flowers, nor inceiiseP Tertullian says : " We buy no frankincense ; '^ we offer " not one pennyworth of the grains of frankincense." Clement says that the perfume from the altar is " holy prayer." The fathers of the third and fourth centuries give the same testi- mony. Arnobius (a.d. 298) speaks of the use of incense even among the heathen as a modern thing, and infers from this circumstance alone that it is offered vainly and to no purpose. In the same spirit write Lactantius (a.d. 303) and even Augustine (a.d. 396). The great Latin father approves of the statement which he quotes, that " frankincense and other perfumes ought not to be offered at the sacrifice of God." It was not imtil the sixth, or late in the fifth century, that incense was used in the ritual. It was brought into the church first merely as a disinfectant, to sweeten, and, as was thought, to purify the air. Tertullian refers to this use of 60 THE OLD EOMAN SPIKIT AND RELIGION it. Pseudo-Dionjsius, early in the sixth century, is the first writer who adverts to incense as a part of Christian worship. He speaks of the priest censing the altar, and then going over " the whole circuit of the sacred place." "^ Of course the precedent of the ancient Jewish worship could be pleaded in support of the new practice. Thus it was the accident of the use of perfume for the homely practical end of expelling bad odors, that brought it into Christian sanc- tuaries as an instrument of worship. One is reminded of the fact that, several centuries later, it was the frequent acci- dental spilling of drops of wine at the Eucharist that first led to the withholding of the cup from the laity. Circumstances in themselves trifling have led to grave transformations in the ritual, and indirectly in the doctrine, of the church. After the censer was adopted as a utensil of devotion, the Christian priest pacing before the altar, attended by the thurifer with the swinging thurible in his hand, presented an almost' exact image of what had been familiar to the eyes of visitors to heathen temples. The spectacle was one wliicb the early Christians, had they been present to witness it, would have beheld with astonishment and reprobation, and one which the heathen, on the other hand, of an earlier day -^vould have recognized as closely resembling a rite of their own. A heathen in the fifth century who should cross the threshold of a Christian church would observe much in the exterior arrangements of the building and of the service that would tend to make him feel at home. He would find much to remind him of the religion in which he had been bred. The very edifice might have once been a temple of pagan worship. Kow it wore the name of that one of the host of invisible beings to whom it was specially sacred, and to whom supplications might be addressed with marked efficacy within its walls. All around there might not im- • The pass^Gs on this subject are collected by Bingham (b. viii., c. VL § 21) and in Smith's Diet, of Christ. Antiquities. IN LATIN CHRISTIANITY. 61 probably be seen votive gifts — donaria — like those which the heathen had been wont to see in his own sanctuaries. There was an altar with lamps burning near it, and with priests, in their official garb, standing before it ; there were genuflexions and processions, all stamped with a likeness to familiar parts of the heathen ritual. It is true that there were no bloody offerings, and that transubstantiation had not come to be an article of Christian belief ; but the Eucharist was called a sacrifice, and was invested with an at- mosphere of awe and mystery. It would be a rash, unauthorized inference that the church in the last half of the patristic period, or that the mediaeval church in which excrescences, like those referred to, in- creased in number and volume, was nothing better than heathen. In the constitution, creed, ceremonial, of the church after Constantine, truth and error, good and evil, were strangely, almost indissolubly, mixed. To call it a mere baptized paganism is to ignore the principle of life that ever inhered in it. The truth of redemption through Christ, with the facts presupposed and included in it, how- ever that truth may have been mingled with erroneous fan- cies and overlaid with cumbrous ceremonies, still constituted the life-blood of Christianity. A question that may occur to the reader of the foregoing pages is this : If Latin Christianity has thus proved itseK congenial to the Latin nations, are they likely to be satisfied with Protestantism in its present shape ? Is it to be expected that the nations of Southern Europe will reconcile themselves to the system of worship which has proved acceptable to the peoples of German extraction ? This opens up the question of symbolism in religion. No one can escape from symbol- ism altogether. The strictest Puritan kneels in prayer, and the act of kneeling not only expresses, but also facilitates, the inward prostration of the spirit. It is the form, the visi- ble embodiment, the material investiture, of the spiritual act. Even the Quaker at his meeting, in his sober mien, his quiet. 62 THE OLD ROMAN SPIEIT AND RELIGION expectant attitude, expresses that waiting for the silent com- ing of the Spirit which is the posture of his mind. Who- ever bows or shakes hands with a friend, or embraces him, indulges in symbolism. A gesture is a symbol. It expresses an emotion, or a volition, or an intellectual act. It is the living counterpart of the mental movement. Body and soul are so intimately connected that a sympathetic physical action spontaneously accompanies the action of the soul, and all the more when the soul is deeply moved. There is a ritual of etiquette, of friendship, of social intercourse, as well as of religion. The manners of a gentleman or of a lady are sym- bolical of refined feelings, of self-respect, and of regard for others, even in little things. Manners are a language. The feeling bodies itself forth instinctively in outward acts ; and cultivation here, as elsewhere, is not artifice, but the perfect- ing of nature. Symbolism is more natural and more grate- ful, more of a necessity of the spirit, as one may say, to one individual than to another. One person would feel himself cramped if this mode of expj:eesing thought and emotion were confined within the limits which another has no im- pulse to overpass. In different stages of culture there is a difference in the degree of satisfaction yielded by symbols. The pageants of the middle ages no longer interest the Euro- pean mind as they once did. Medigeval ceremonies, which are still observed in connection with courts and royalty, strike one as curious relics of a by-gone time. They may seem puerile, and they may be in reality puerile — that is, they may have been the offshoot of a time when there was a dis- proportionate liveliness of emotion and fancy, such as be- longs to children. It is true evidently of certain branches of the human race that gesture, pantomime, all that falls under the head of symbolical expression, form, and ceremony, are far more congenial — we might say indispensable — than is true of peoples of a more reserved temperament. The viva- cious manners of the Frenchman, and the more stiff and stolid ways of the Englishman, have always been to both the IN LATfN CHRISTIANITY. 63 source of mutual diversion. The southern European nations are by nature more ritualistic than the northern. The brighter skies, the sunny landscape, the peculiar fruits and flowers, are not more characteristic of the south than is the love of music and song, of painting and sculpture, of brilliant dress and ceremony, and of expressive tones and gestures. Wor- ship is naturally affected by this diversity of temperament. A 'New England Puritan thinks it natural to clothe himself in black in token of grief for a lost friend, and to march in a procession on the fourth of July. But he finds it more difficult to see how any one should be inclined to carry an analogous symbolism into the services of religion. Now the exact limits of that symbolism in worship which is allowable under the Gospel do not admit of mathematical definition. There is no prescribed, unbending code in the New Testa- ment on this subject. The Saviour and the apostles preached often in the open air. They wore no official garments. Probably no one at present thinks that the cloak which Paul left at Troas was a surplice ; or that, if it had been, he would have suspended his work as a minister to wait for its arrival. Everything in the services of the primitive church was plain and simple. At the same time there was no law laid down in reference to these matters. There are certain principles, however, to which the church is bound to adhere in all the arrangements of worship. First, the symbol must be significant of a truth, and not of an error. The rite speaks to the observer, and the language which it utters must be true. An erroneous doctrine which has clothed it- self in symbol can be subverted only by abolishing the forms in which it is invested. Secondly, the symbol pust be immediately intelligible. It must conform to the rules of allegorical art. If it fail to do this, it is obnoxious from an aesthetic point of view. Still more obnoxious is it from a religious point of view ; for it becomes then an opaque glass. It is a mirror in which nothing is reflected. It is a fossil from which the life is gone. It is a word in an un- 64 THE OLD ROMAN SPIRIT AND RELIGION known tongue. The observance of unmeaning rites is a mechanical sort of devotion, equally dishonorable to God, who will be worshipped in spirit and in truth, and to the soul, which is degraded by the exercise of a blind, stupid homage, that is kept up in deference to authority or fi'om mere force of habit. The symbolical act or object must tell its own tale at once, and must continue to do so, or it is worse than useless ; for a rational being is harmed by the performance of irrational acts. Such acts are doubly mis- chievous when they come to be regarded as meritorious, and to be made a substitute, as to some extent they are very likely to be, for faith, love, and charity, and for good deeds springing from them. Formalism is the enthronement of rites in the place that belongs to the feelings and purposes of the heart. External observances are made by the formal- ist an end and not a means. They are valued for their own sake. If they do not supplant the dedication of the heart, which is the " reasonable " — that is, the rational or spiritual — service to be rendered to God by a Christian, they are placed on a level with it, and thus deprive it of the supreme place that of right belongs to it. " Obedience is better than sacrifice." Kites that are devoid of meaning are an offence. Formalism in religion is like artificial, affected manners in social life. They tend to stifle true, cordial feeling. Hon- est minds break through such barriers, and may be led by the energy of their protest to fall into rude and blunt ways, which are preferable to a hollow and unmeaning courtesy. Thirdly, all visible representations of the invisible God are irreverent in their nature. The law of the Old Testament on this subject was given to prevent idolatry. It was one great object, moreover, to educate the souls of men to the exercise of faith in realities which belong to an order higlier than that of the visible world. This design is defeated when the Deity is depicted in human form, and the august mystery of his being brought down to the level of his crea- tures. In the ancient church, representations of God the IN LATIN CHRISTIANITY. 65 Father, and any other than symbolical representations of the Holy Ghost, were rigidly excluded. The inveterate tenden- cy, especially of the uneducated mind, to identify the image with the being whom it is intended to represent is a suffi- cient reason why images of Jesus should not be used as aux- iliaries in worship. It is legitimate for the arts of painting and sculpture to give form to the ideals of Christ which the study of his human life inspires. An elevating influence may go forth from these creations of art. The Christ of Leonardo da Yinci, the study for the painting of the Last Supper, with the deep but patient sorrow that is stamped upon the countenance, gives new vividness to our conception of the " Man of sorrows." He must be an iconoclast indeed who would blot out of existence the descent from the cross as depicted in all its terrible reality by the pencil of Rubens. But such creations of art are not to be made the objects of worship, and worshippers cannot look to them in prayer without the risk of confounding the unseen exalted One with the imaginary portrait of him that is spread upon the canvas. Fourthly, the multiplying of symbols beyond a limit, which, of course, cannot be precisely defined, is evil in its influence. Crutches are good to support the weak, but are of no benefit if they supersede the natural use of the muscles. Pictures are useful in teaching, but, if employed beyond a certain limit, they keep the mind in a passive state that interferes with the due development of its powers. An elaborate ritual becomes a spectacle, in which, at the best, the soul is acted upon, with little exertion on its own part. There is a golden mean between a dazzling and distracting symbolism, complex and wearisome to a thoughtful mind, and a bald, frigid service, where no help is derived from the senses, and where the didactic element, in the form of ab- stract discussion, excludes every other. We may reject the idea of Archbishop Laud and the ritualists as to what is meant by worshipping God in " the beauty of holiness," but in fly- ing from Scylla we should not wreck ourselves on Charybdis. Q6 THE OLD ROMAN SPIRIT AND RELIGION Starting with these principles respecting the nature and use of symbolism, we are prepared to allow to Protestant- ism the liberty of conforming its ritual to the temperament, taste, and national peculiarities of the several peoples among whom it may be planted. There are many customs which belong under the category of things indifferent, and which it may be a duty to discard under one set of circumstances, while they may be admitted without harm when the situa- tion is altered. The great conflict of the Puritans against sacerdotal usurpation led them to push their protest in cer- tain directions further than is necessary at present, now that the battle has been fought and won, and when in many com- munities the danger which they dreaded has passed by. A rigid adhesion to a particular method of worship, when there are reasons for varying from it, is itself formalism, one of the principal evils against which Puritanism contended. A certain elasticity must be allowed in things external. The criterion is to ascertain what conduces to the edification of the flock, not in some foreign latitude, but in the place with respect to which the question is raised. Should the Protes- tant doctrines spread extensively in Latin countries, it is not impossible that forms of worship may arise specially conso- nant with the native characteristics of the inhabitants of those lands. There may arise a Latin Protestantism differ- ent in its external features from Germanic Protestantism. There is no hurtful rupture of unity in such diversity. At the Keformation, Protestantism in the southern countries tended to a particular type not strictly accordant with the German. The acceptance of the doctrine of justification by faith alone was often accompanied by a less degree of dis- affection towards important parts of the Eomish ritual, and with a less degree of repugnance to the sacraments as for- merly administered. In France, many who were inclined to Protestant opinions, like Margaret, the sister of Francis L, and the class in sympathy with her, occupied this posi- tion. The phenomena of the Reformation in that age in UNIVERSITY m LATIN CHRISTIANITY. 67 Italy and Spain indicate the natural bent of the Latin mind. The Old Catholic movement in our day seemed at first to hold out the pi-omise of issuing in a new type of Protestant- ism which should be more satisfactory to such adherents of the Church of Rome as were evangelical in their tendencies. Pere Hyacinthe, disposed though he was to head a revolt against the Pope and the popular type of Eomanism, did not find himself at home in the midst of Protestantism, with its absence of form and its churches locked up except on Sunday. He was evidently feeling after a system which, while it should be free from Komish abuses of doctrine and practice, should make a warmer appeal to the sensibility and aesthetic feeling than any of. the Protestant denominations presented. He wanted a system that should bring religion, more visibly and constantly, before the minds and close to the hearts of men. It must be confessed, however, that his main difficulty was that he did not see his way clear to lay the axe at the root of the tree by distinctly renouncing the sacer- dotal theory of the ministry. No effectual issue can be made with Romanism by those who cling to the theory of a mediatorial priesthood. The greatness of Luther is strik- ingly manifest in the boldness with which he assaulted the central dogmas of the opposing system, instead of expend- ing his strength on the outworks. In one of his early publica- tions, the Address to the Nobles of the German Nation^ he struck a vigorous blow at the doctrine that the clergy are a close corporation of priests on whom the laity are depend- ent for the sacraments. It was because he laid a string foundation in principles, that his war against the papacy was something more than an irregufer, guerilla contest, and re- sulted in a great and permanent conquest. The abortive character of the Old Catholic movement is due Very much to its failure to lay hold of the principles on which alone an insurrection against the Church of Rome can maintain it- self. 68 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES * The great Popes in the middle ages endeavored to realize the splendid, but impracticable, conception of a theocratic empire, which should embrace all Christian nations,^ and of which the Pope was to be the head. The attempt was made to establish an administration such as would require wisdom, justice, and benevolence, as well as power, in a supei-human measure. The Popes renounce no pretension that has once been made ; but the extravagant claims of Hildebrand, In- nocent III., and Boniface VIII., are silently dropped — the claim to set up and pull down princes, and to settle inter- national disputes — and the revival of such claims at the present day would only excite ridicule. For several centu- ries, national interests have been strong enough, in the poli- tics of Europe, to override ecclesiastical and religious bonds of association. The design of this Article is not to discuss the obsolete claim of the papacy to a temporal supremacy over Christendom, but to touch on the salient points in the history of their own peculiar kingdom in Italy. On Christmas Day, in the»year 800, in the old Basilica of St. Peter at Rome, Pope Leo III. placed the imperial crown on the head of Charlemagne. It was one of those particular * A Keview, in The New Englander^ for January, 1867, of GeschicJite der EnUtehung und Aushildung des Kirchenstaates. Von Samuel Sugen- heim. Leipzig, 1854; U^glise etlaSodeU Ghretienne en 1861. Par M. Guizot. Quatrieme edition. Paris, 1866. THE TEMPOEAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. 69 events or scenes in which a great epoch is signalized and pictured, as it were, to the eye. It is a landmark terminat- ing the first period in the annals of the Popes' temporal sovereignty. During the first three centuries, while the church was a persecuted, but rapidly growing, sect, the Bishop of Rome was steadily acquiring moral infiuence and hierarchical au- thority. After Constantino began to take the church under his patronage — his edict of toleration was issued in 312 — and after he and his successors not only granted to the church the I'ight to receive legacies and hold property, but also enriched it by their own offerings, the Roman bishops were in a position to profit greatly by these new privileges. Gradually they became possessed of extensive estates, not only in Italy, but also in Sicily and Gaul, and even in Afri- ca and Asia. In the time of Gregory the Great (590-604), their annual income from the estates near Marseilles alone amounted to fom- thousand pieces of gold. It is true that this " patrimony of Peter," as even then it was called, was held by the Pope as a private proprietor or trustee, and not as a sovereign. For example, the Papal lands in Gaul were subject to the king of the country, like the lands of any other proprietor. Yet the control of the Pope over exten- sive estates would border, in some particulars, upon that of a sovereign, and the rudiments of a secular dominion are properly discerned in this early relation. The downfall of the empire left the Roman Pontiff the most important per- sonage in all the West. But during the score of years (from 551 to 568) that followed the conquest of Italy by the gene- rals of Justinian, and preceded the partial overthrow of the Byzantine rule in that country by the Lombards, the coercion exercised upon the Popes by the tyrants of Constantinople serves to show how much the papacy was to be indebted for its growth to the abse^ce of an overshadowing power in its neighborhood. To the Lombard conquest the Popes owed their secular 70 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. dominion. That which infused into them the greatest terror turned out ;providentially to be the greatest benefit. This bar- barian people, partly Arian and partly pagan in their religion, overran the larger portion of Italy. They left to the Byzantine emperor, in middle and northern Italy, besides Rome, and a few other fortified places, a strip of territory along the sea- coast, in which were included Ravenna, the seat of the so- called Exarch, or Governor-General, under the Eastern em- pire, and the five cities (Pentapolis), Ancona, Sinigaglia, Fano, Pesaro, and Rimini. The various cities outside of the Exarchate, of which Rome was one, had been placed under subordinate governors, called dukes. After the Lombard invasion, the Byzantine rule over the places which had not yielded to the conquerors was little more than a nominal sovereignty. In this time of anarchy and distress, the Pope was the natural leader and defender, as well as the benefac- tor, of the people whom the emperor was unable to protect. When the quarrel broke out between the Pope and Leo the Isaurian, in regard to the worship of images, the Romans warmly sided with their bishop against the iconoclastic em- peror. They even drove out the Byzantine duke, who had long possessed only the shadow of power, and they would have proclaimed their independence and a republic, had not the Pope withstood them, his motive being an intense anxiety lest imperial power should fall into the hands of the Lombard king. He naturally chose to keep up a nominal connection with the Eastern empire, which brought no real inconvenience, in preference to falling under the sway of his aggressive, powerful, and heretical neighbor.* It was evi- dent that the Lombard kings were determined to extend their dominion over Italy. Yet Pope Zacharias, in return for favors rendered to them, obtained from them the gift, first of Sutri, and then of four other towns, which had been * See, on this point, Sugenheim's work (the title of which is given above), p. 68 seq. This very thorough monograph throws light on many difficult questions connected with our subject. THE TE^IPOEAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. Tl wrested by them from the Greek empire. The Pope, though still the subject of that empire, set up the principle that these places, being the property of the Lombards by right of conquest, might be withheld from the emperor and granted to him. In truth, this gift from the heretical enemy was the beginning of the Papal kingdom. But when the haughty Aistulph, in 749, mounted the throne of the Lom- bards, and when, having seized upca Ravenna, the Exar- chate, Pentapolis, and the Greek territory on the Adriatic as far as Istria, he turned his arms against Rome, the Pope saw no way of escape from the imminent peril into which he was thrown, except by imploring the intervention of Pepin, king of the Franks. Fortunately Pepin was obliged to the Pope for lending a religious sanction to the usurpation by which he had dethroned the Merovingian family, the f oim- der of the new dynasty having been anointed, in 752, at Soissons, by Boniface, according to the direction of Zacha- rias, and having been absolved afterwards from his violated oath of fealty to Childeric EI., the last representative of the old line. In two campaigns (754-5), the Lombards were de- feated, and expelled from their new conquests ; and Pepin now gave to the Pope the Exarchate and the Pentapolis. He had won these territories, he said, not for the Greek emperor, but for St. Peter. What was now the position and what were the rights of the Pope, as a secular prince ? This is a nice and difl3.cult question to determine. The Pope received, the name and title of Patricius over the Exarchate, while Pepin became Patricius of Rome. In regard to the donation of Pepin, it is a controverted question whether it made over to the Pope the rights of sovereignty, or only the property and incomes which had formerly belonged to the Byzantine emperor. The great German lawyer, Savigny, is decidedly of opinion that the rights of sovereignty were included.* Sugenheim * Savigny, Das Bomische Becht, vol. i. , p. 358. 72 THE TEMPOEAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. holds that this was probably not the original idea, but rather the interpretat'on successfully affixed to the donation by the Popes.* The gift of Pepin was made to the Pope and the Eoman Kepublic: and it is further declared by Savigny that " the Roman Republic," as the representative of which the Pope appears, " was not the city of Rome, still less the Greek empire ; " "it was rather the old Western empire, which in this small compass, though as yet without a visible head, was again restored, the idea of its formal restoration, which was soon to follow, being, perhaps, already present." f It seems clear that Patricius was an honorary title which carried with it no very definite prerogatives. It involved the right and duty of affording protection. We may con- clude, then, that by this transaction the Pope acquired, in reference to the greater part of what was afterwards called Romagna, a station similar to that held by the former Ex- archs, with the difference that the superior to whom he would be subordinate was an ideal personage, the future head of the Western empire, which had not then been reconstituted. In respect to Rome, it is remarkable that the Pope still kept up the show of allegiance to the Eastern empire, his motive being a jealous desire to prevent the Pa- triciate of Pepin over the eternal city from passing into an imperial function. Such was the position of the Pope, as a temporal ruler, up to the time of Charlemagne. The overthrow of the Lombard kingdom by this monarch, in 773, was followed by a confirmation of the gift of Pepin to the Pope, increased by the addition of a few places in Tuscany. Charlemagne had acquired a supremacy and a conceded authority which his coronation by the Pope recognized rather than created. The patriciate, by the course of events, had grown into the im- perial office ; and the treaty of Charlemagne with the East- em emperor, Nicephorus, in 803, formerly designated the * Sugenheim, p. 27. f Savigny, p. 361. THE TEMPOKAL KINGDOM OB" THE POPES. 73 portions of Italy with wliicli we are concerned, among the territories of the Western emperor. n. ^ Toward Charlemagne and his immediate successors the ^ Popes stood in the relation of feudal dependence, analogous to that held by other ecclesiastical nobles who were subjects of the empire, although the Roman bishop, in point of eccle- siastical and spiritual dignity, had, of course, the highest rank. VTlie Popes were obliged to take an oath of fidelity to the emperor, acknowledging him to be their lord and judge. Xot only was their election incomplete without the imperial s anctio n, but they were held to account when charges were preferred against them. Thus an inquiry was instituted against Leo III. for executing certain Pomans ; and at the time when Lothaire I. was crowned at Pome, in 823, Pope Paschal I., on the complaint of the abbot of the monastery Farfa, was obliged to restore to the latter all the property which had been unjustly taken from his monastery. The Popes were constantly striving to release themselves fi'om their subjection to the princes of the family of Charle- magne. The end they had in view was to free themselves from the need of procuring a ratification of their election from the emperor ; and they even sought to give currency to the idea that the imperial office was bestowed by them. Occasionally, an able man like Nicholas I. (858-867), favored by circumstances and strengthened by popular support, real- ized in a measure the Papal aspirations after independence and control. But, as a general rule, through nearly the whole of the ninth century, the Poman bishops were foiled/ in these attempts. They profited, however, by the conflicts in which the Frank princes were engaged with one another, and in which they were frequently induced by the interest of the hour to appeal to ecclesiastical arbitration and to ad- 4 74 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. vance their pretensions by obtaining episcopal unction. The disorders and divisions in the Frank empire were rather fomented than hindered bj the ambitious Popes, who, in the turmoil that followed the downfall of that empire, gained for a time their long-coveted independence.* Their success proved their worst misfortune. The next century and a half is the most disgraceful era in the whole history of the papacy. The dangers to which the Popes were exposed in the midst of the wild factions of contending Italian nobles led them to parcel out a great part of their territory outside of Eome among feudatories, as a rew^ard for services rendered and expected. The same weakening of the central authority, the same stniggles for independence on the part of the vassals, and for ascendancy on the side of their liege, ensued here as among the nations north of the Alps. The easy subjection of the Popes to the Frank princes was exchanged for a galling servitude under violent and ra- pacious nobles. For a long series of years the Counts of Tuscany, and aft.er them the Counts of Tusculum — two branches of the same house — disposed of Rome and the Pa- pal office at their will. Three prostitutes, Theodora, and her daughters, Marozia and Theodora, made and deposed Popes, even placing their paramours and bastard sons in the chair of St. Peter. At length, in 933, Pope John XI., who was perhaps a son of the vile Pope Sergius III. by Marozia, was * It was in the ninth century that the Pseudo-Isi dorian Decretals ap. peared — that collection of forged papers by which the prerogatives con- ceded to the Pope in that age, and even higher prerogatives than were generally conceded to him then, were ascribed to his predecessors in the first three centuries. Among these spurious documents was the pretended deed of Constantine, giving to Pope Sylvester his Western dominions. The forgery is a clumsy one. For example, the author of it conceives of the Western empire as it was in the eighth century — as comprising only some provinces of Italy. The spurious character of this document is gen- erally acknowledged. Yet Baronius, and some other Catholic writers, seek, against all evidence, to maintain the fact of such a gift. See Gies- eler, Church History y vol. ii., p. 118, n. THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. 75 imprisoned by his own brother Alberich in the castle of St. Angelo, and was forced to act, even in spiritual things, as his passive instrument. Until the year 954, this Alberich, under the title of Prince and First Senator of the Romans, ruled with despotic authority over the city and the adjacent territory ; and, after the death of John XI., set up in suc- cession four Popes, w^hom he restricted to the exercise of their spiritual functions. At his death all power fell into the hands of his son Octavian, a vicious youth of less than eighteen years of age, who, on assuming the tiara, set the fashion, which has since been copied, of adopting a new name, and called himself John XII. To protect liimseK against Berengar II., King of Italy, this profligate wretch invoked the aid of Otho I., the German emperor ; but the interposition of Otho brought but a momentaiy relief from the frightful disorder and degradation in the affairs of the papacy. Finally, the German emperor, Henry III., ap- peared to reestablish, with a strong hand, the imperial power in Italy ; and at the Synod of Sutri, in 1046, he caused the Papal chair to be declared vacant, and, the three rival claim- ants havmg been summarily set aside, one of Henry's own bishops was elected to the vacant place, under the name of Clement II. From this time the influence of Ilildebrand becomes predominant. The S^mod of Sutri marks an epoch in the record of the Papal dominion. The imperial power and influence are seen at their culminating pointj m. A notable event in the progress of the Papal dominion in Italy was the famous bequest of Matilda, Countess of Tus- cany, to the Papal See. This enterprising and gifted woman, the fast friend and supporter of Ilildebrand, bequeathed her territories, comprising a fourth part of the Peninsula, to the Eoman Church. Whether this gift was intended to include 76 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. anything more than her allodial property, and what portion of her possessions was allodial and what held in fief, it is im- possible to say. To dispose of territory held in fief would be utterly contrary to law, and to all the ideas of the time. But the ambiguous character of the bequest in these respects opened the way for the assertion of a claim on the part of the Popes to the whole, and contributed eventually to the long and bitter strife with the emperors. Gieseler observes that " because the feudal relations of these lands to the em- peror were at that time much relaxed, the Pope was inclined to regard them as allodial, while the emperor, by virtue of his ancient right, laid claim to all landed possessions at least, as fiefs of the empire." * Certain it is that the Popes were determined to incorporate the fiefs in their own kingdom, es- pecially the most valuable of them, Tuscany, Spoleto, and Camerino. In the early part of the twelfth century there appeared a fresh element of disturbance in the Papal kingdom, of a portentous character. This was the newly-awakened spirit of the Koman people. Heretofore, the populace of Rome had been of little account. Emperor, Pope, and nobles, in all their conflicts with one another, had united in keeping down the people, and reducing them to political insignifi- cance. But now a new era had arisen. The aspirations of the Lombard towns after municipal independence and free government had spread southward. The popular feeling in Rome found an organ and a leader in the disciple of Abe- lard, Arnold of Brescia. He demanded that the clerical or- der, from the Pope downwards, should give up their claim to secular rule, and should possess no secular property. He was heard with enthusiasm, and his doctrine spread like- a contagion. After he had been driven out of Italy by the anathema of the second Lateran Council, the Roman people renoimced their allegiance to Innocent II., and, in 1143, set * Gieseler, Church History (Prof. Smith's ed.), vol. i., p. 273. THE TElklPOEAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. 77 up a government of their own, placing supreme power in the hands of a senate. They were strengthened by the arrival of Arnold with several thousand Swiss soldiers. In an un- successful attack upon the new government in the capitol, Pope Lucius II. was hit with a stone, and received a mortal wound. The people wished to restore the old imperial con- stitution, and accordingly invited Conrad III., and after- wards Frederic I., to assume this imperial character and make their abode in Eome. Pope Hadrian lY. persuaded the Romans to banish Arnold, whose unpractical and imag- inative spirit had hindered him fi'om succeeding in his plans. By the Emperor Frederic, who was bitterly hostile to republicanism, and was bent on humbling the Lombard towns, as well as desirous to receive the imperial crown, Arnold was delivered up to the Pope, who made such haste to destroy him, that the Romans, who rushed to the Piazza del Popolo to effect a rescue, found only his ashes. We pass to the Pontifical reign of the ablest of the Popes, a man of great virtues, shaded by serious faults, Innocent III. All the circumstances, especially the minority of Fred- eric 11. , and the disordered state of the empire, facilitated the accomplishment of the ends which Innocent set before him. He drove the vassals of the empire out of the terri- tory of Matilda, taking possession of the March of Ancona, the Dakedom of Spoleto, the Earldom of Agnisi, the Mar- quisates of Tuscany, Radicofani, Aquapendente, Montefias- cone, and the rest ; so that his admiring biographer, Hurter, claims for him the honor of being the founder of the States of the Church. More important .was the concession which he extorted from Otho lY., one of the three competitors for the imperial crown, as the condition of supporting his cause, and of declaring in his favor. On the eighth of June, 1201, Otho bound himself by a solemn engagement to protect, to the best of his ability, all the possessions, rights, and honors of the Apostolic See ; to leave the Pope in un- disturbed possession of the territories which he had won 78 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. back, and to help the Holy See both in defending them, and reconquering those not yet gained. Under these pos- sessions were embraced all the territory from Radicofani to Ceperano, also the Exarchate of Ravenna, the former Pentapolis, the March of Ancona, the Dukedom of Spoleto, the allodial property of Matilda, the Earldom of Bertinaro, together with the bordering territories which the Roman bishops had acquired from the Western emperors since the days of Louis the Pious. The provinces here enumerated comprise the principal territories of the modern Papal States. The violation of his agreement by Otho turned In- nocent's friendship into bitter hostility, and ultimately led him to bring forward the young Frederic of Sicily (Frederic n.), and powerfully to support his pretensions to the em- pire. This support was not given, however, until Frederic had renewed and ratified the concessions previously made by Otho. The equally perfidious violation of this treaty by Frederic was a leading cause of that long and dreadful con- flict with the Popes, which ended in the complete overthrow of the house of Hohenstaufen. In the progress of this conflict, the cities in the Papal kingdom wrested concessions from the Popes, by which they acquired for the time a large measure of municipal fi*eedom and independence. It is remarkable that while the Lom- bard towns followed the Popes in their contest against the Ghibelline or imperial interest, the immediate subjects of the Holy See were often found on the other side. This was owing to the fact that, although the Popes, out of hostility to the emperors, and the desire to gain the victory over them, allied themselves to the freedom-loving cities, they were still at heart inimical to republicanism, and were im- politic enough to betray their real temper and policy to- wards their own cities, in case no pressing emergency com- pelled an opposite course. By the aid of Charles of Anjou, to whom they had given the crown of Sicily, they succeed- ed in recovering Rome from the imperial party, and destroy- THE te:mpoeal kingdom of the popes. 79 ing Conradin, the last of the Hohenstaufens. In 1275, they had the satisfaction of receiving fi-om Rudolph of Hapsburg a full and most explicit ratification of the deed of surrender, which Otho lY/and Frederic 11. had given and disregarded. This deed has been properly considered the Magna Charta of the Pope's temporal dominion. lY. It was one thing to acquire a title to these rich posses- sions, and quite another thing to get and to retain them. The turbulent cities, accustomed now to a good measure of self- government and strengthened by pi-ivileges granted by the Popes in times of distress, could not easily be brought into subjection. The factions of Guelfs and Ghibellines, raged in them, and the result, as in other Italian towns, was the elevation to power of certain noble and distinguished famil- ies. Such were the houses of Polenta in Ravenna, of Mala- testa in Rimini, of Yarano in Camerino and in other places in the March of Ancona, and of Montef eltro in Urbino. It was the repugnance of Boniface YIII. to the family of Colonna, whose ovei'shadowing influence at Rome became intolerable to him, that finally led to " the Babylonian cap- tivity," or the residence of the Popes for about seventy years at Avignon. Determined to get possession of their fortified places, Boniface sought means of capturing the apparently impregnable stronghold, Palestrina.* At length he applied * The truth of the story relative to the transaction with G-uido di Mon- tefeltro is denied by Cardinal Wiseman in his Article on Boniface VIII. {Essays on Various Subjects^ vol. iii.). The story is given by many authors, including Sismondi {Republiques Italiennes^ tome iii., p. 91). Sismondi's authorities are Dante, his commentator, Benvenuto da Imola, and two contemporary chroniclers, Feretto Vincentino and Pipino, in Muratori {Script. Ital, tom. ix., pp. 731, 970). Dante {Inf., xxvii., 81) styles Boniface " Lo principe di nuovi farisei." It is represented that Boniface had absolved Guido for his wicked counsel before it was given. This did not save him from hell, since " No power can the impenitent absolve." 80 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF TH^ POPES. for aid to a famous old soldier, Guido de Montefeltro, a for- mer enemy of the Popes, but now reconciled and passing Dante makes Guido, in the midst of the flames, relate circumstantially the fatal seduction by which " the chief of the new Pharisees " misled him, having given him the promise of impunity. Another not at all flattering allusion to Boniface is in Parad.^ xxvii., 22; and elsewhere {Inf.^ xix. 52). Dante condemns him to hell. In the last passage, the spirit in hell mistakes Dante for Boniface, who, at the date of the poet's vision, was not dead. It is the same canto in which Pope Nicholas V. is doomed to a like fate, and in which, in allusion to the pretended gift of Constantine to Pope Sylvester, the poet exclaims : — " Ah, Constantine ! to how much ill gave birth, Not thy conversion, but that plenteous dower Which the first wealthy father gain'd from thee." In regard to Ferreto, Muratori, as Wiseman truly states, adds a note to Ferreto's account of Guido, in which the critic questions the truth of the story. He observes : — " Probosi hujus facinoris narrationis fidem adjun- gere nemo probus velit quod facile confinxerint Bonifacii aemuli," etc. In the Annali d* Italia, vol. xi., p. 648, the same critic expresses his doubt of the truth of the anecdote respecting Guido, though he quotes G. Villani {Istor. Fiorent.^ lib. viii., c. 6) to the effect that Boniface was troubled by no scruples when there was something to be gained. Mura- tori also suggests that the story of the advice of Guido may have arisen from the subsequent events — namely, the breach of faith with the Co- lonnas. This last fact he appears not to reject. Although it is called in question by Wiseman, it rests upon strong evidence. In the proceeding before Clement VIL , after the death of Boniface, the Colonnas averred that they had been cheated in the manner described. The proofs are given in Sugenheim. p. 208. The circumstances are stated by G. Villani, lib. viii., c. 64. Villani wrote soon after the event. See also, Fleury, Hist. Ecclesiast, tom. xviii., p. 240. Considering the manner in which the anecdote, as to the advice of Guido, is given by Dante, even though his Ghibelline hostility to Boniface, as Muratori observes, impairs the value of his testimony, — and considering, also, the other authorities in its favor, we are hardly justified in rejecting it as false. It is believed by Sugenheim, by Milman {Latin Chrifttianity , vol. vi., p. 228) by Schrockh {Kirchengeschichte, vol. xxvi., p. 531) — who supports his opinion by an argument — and by others. Schwab, in the Roman Catholic TJieologiscJie Quartalselirift (No. 1, 1866), admits that Wiseman, as well as Toste, the Catholic biographer of Boniface, in their attempted vindication of him, are biased by excited feelings consequent on the injustice which they suppose him to have suffered. THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. 81 the evening of his days in a cloister. The veteran de- clined to take the field, told Boniface that the place could not be captured by force of arms, but advised him, as a means of obtaining it, to promise much and perform little. The Pope but too faithfully obeyed the iniquitous counsel. This perfidy still further exasperated the great family which he was seeking to extirpate. It was Sciarra Colonna who, in connection with William of Nogaret, the emissary of Philip the Fair, made an attack upon the person of the old Pope, then staying in Anagni, and inflicted such injuries that he died on the 11th of October, 1133. The papacy, brought under French influence, was now transferred to Avignon.* Contrary to a common idea, the residence of the Popes in France did not result in the weakening, but rather in the temporary restoration of their power as secular princes. This unexpected result was due to several causes. The local dynasties which had risen to power in Italy in the com'se of the last half of the thirteenth century, were divi- ded amongst themselves ; and the Pope could skilfully avail himself of their mutual jealousies and conflicts to turn one against another. Moreover, the close connection of the Papal feudatories, the kings of Kaples of the house of An- jou, with their liege, gave him a strong ally. And finally, the Pontiffs in Avignon played anew the part of their predecessors who, in the contest with the Ilohenstaufen emperors, had taken the attitude of friends and protectors of the Italian municipalities in their pursuit of freedom. By means of Cardinal Albornoz, an able Spaniard, the Popes succeeded, while personally absent from Italy, in recovering and reimiting nearly the whole of their former cities and territories. They even succeeded in using for their own ends the eloquence and popularity of Cola di Rienzi. At a * Avignon was afterwards, in 1348, bought by tbe Papal See of Joanna, Queen of Naples and Countess of Provence. Venaissin was presented to the Pope m 1273, by King Philip III. 4* 82 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. time when Rome was filled with anarchy and violence, through the agency of the nobles who sallied from the strongholds which they had built in the city, to engage in bloody fights in the streets, this political and religious en- thusiast became .the author of a successful revolution, in which he installed himself as tribime, compelling the nobles to surrender their fortresses, and restoring order. Unhap- pily he quickly betrayed an unbalanced character, and by his costly pomps and shows disgusted the people, caused the Pope to declare against him, and was at length driven from Eome. Arrested a few years later by the Emperor Charles lY., he was sent to Avignon, and having been detained for a while in custody by the Pope, he returned to Home in company with Albornoz, and materially aided the latter in conciliating the popular favor. But his vanity and self -in- dulgence excited renewed hostility against him, and in 1354 he was assassinated. Hardly were the Popes back again in Rome, before they threw away the great prize which the energy and sagacity of Albornoz had won for them. They set about the busi- ness of depriving the cities in their domain of the privi- leges which had been wisely conceded to them by Albor- noz ; and, in order to crush republicanism more effectually, they even attempted to rob the Tuscan towns of their inde- pendence. The result was that the Papal subjects anew broke off their allegiance, which Albornoz had regained with so much painstaking. If the Popes retained, and even recovered, their temporal power during their residence in Avignon, the effect of the great schism, lasting from 1378 to the Council of Constance in 1417, a period in which two and sometimes three rival Popes were struggling to sup- plant each other, was quite the opposite. In the cities of the Papal kingdom the old dynasties revived and new ones sprang up ; towns and territories were ceded to nobles in fief, so that the exhausted Papal treasury might have a new source of income ; to the old republics within their domain, THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. 83 as Home, Perugia, and Bologna, the Popes found it neces- sary to concede a degree of republican freedom, that almost amounted to independence, and like privileges were even granted to cities that had never before enjoyed them. In short, the Papal kingdom was dissolved and broken up in this eventful period which was equally detrimental to the temporal and spiritual dominion of the Poman bishops. The steps by which subsequent Pontiffs, beginning with Nicholas Y., who became Pope in 1447, regained by de- grees, through patient and prudent efforts, the inheritance w^hich the folly of their predecessors had lost, we cannot at- tempt, in this brief sketch, to relate. Y. As we approach the beginning of the sixteenth century, we come to a period of moral degradation in the papacy, having no parallel save in the tenth century, when harlots disposed of the sacred office. "The governments of Eu- rope," says Panke, " were stripping the Pope of a portion of his privileges, while at the same time the latter began to occupy himself exclusively with worldly concerns." * To found an Italian kingdom for his own family, to carve out principalities for his own relations, was the darling object of his ambition. This shameful era may be said to begin with Sixtus lY., Pope from 1471 to 1484. He conceived the plan of founding a State in Pomagna for his nephew, or, if we may believe MacchiaveUi's assertion, his natural son, Jerome Riario. Opposed in his schemes by Florence, he entered into the foul conspiracy for assassinating Lorenzo and Julian de Medici, which was concocted by the Pazzi. In the midst of the solemn service of the Mass, at the sig- nal given by the elevation of the host, a fierce attack was * Ranke, History of the Popes of Borne during the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, vol. i., p. 45. 84 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. made upon them ; but while Julian fell, Lorenzo escaped. The speedy execution, without the forms of a trial before an ecclesiastical tribunal, of the priests who had been engaged in this murderous assault, afforded the Pope a pretext for venting his chagrin at its failure by launching his spiritual thunders against Florence and its ruler. He joined Ferdi- nand of Naples in making war upon Lorenzo, whose con- summate boldness and skill in drawing ofP Ferdinand from the alliance saved him from ruin. Next, Jerome coveted Ferrara, held in fief by 'th^ house of Este ; and the Pope, in alliance with Venice, turned his arms in that direction ; but the same Pope, seeing thaf they were to gain nothing, de- serted Venice and excommunicated her. Vexation at his inability to subdue this republic hastened his death. Inno- cent VIII. " sought with a still more profligate vileness to exalt and enrich his seven illegitimate children : " and for this end carried on two wars against Ferdinand, King of Naples. But the crimes of Sixtus and of Innocent, shock- ing as they were, were less than the crimes committed by the most flagitious of all the Pontiffs, Alexander VI. To give riches and crowns to his five illegitimate children, and especially to his favorite son, Csesar Borgia, he exerted all his energies. His court afforded a spectacle of luxury and unbounded sensuality. Alexander sided with Naples against the invader, Charles VIII. of France, and then, for a price, deserted his ally. In 1495, he joined the emperor and the King of Spain, in order to drive the French out of Italy. Not getting enough from Naples to satisfy him, he went over to Louis XII. of France, granting to Louis a divorce from his wife, and receiving, among other benefits, armed assistance for Caesar Borgia, who made war upon the princi- pal vassals of the church and carved for himself a domin- ion out of their territories. To advance the interests of this monster of cruelty and perfidy, Alexander was ready to throw away even the show of truth and decency. At length the poison which the Pope had mixed for a rich cardinal THE TEMPOKAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. 86 whom he wanted to rob, he drank himseK by mistake, and died on the 18th of August, 1503. Julius II. differed from his immediate predecessors in be- ing free from their personal vices and in not aiming to ag- grandize his own relations. His aim was to build up and ex- tend the States of the Church. In this he attained to great success. He satisfied his family by obtaining for them, by peaceful means, the patrimony of Urbino. He expelled Csesar Borgia from his dominion and seized upon it. He brought Perugia and Bologna under the direct rule of the Papal See. Unable to induce the Venetians to retire from the territories of the Holy See on the coast, he organized the league of Cambray, and compelled them to surrender this portion of the dominions of the church. He gained possession of Parma, Piacenza, and Peggio, and of all the region lying between Piacenza and Terracina. He had es- tablished his sway over all the territories of the church and consolidated them into a kingdom. He only failed in a sec- ond great end which he had set before him — that of expell- ing the foreigners, or, as he expressed it, of " driving out the barbarians " from Italy. In truth, in reaching the ob- ject of his ambition, he had been obliged to bring in for- eign intervention, and had done his part in paving the way for the train of evils which were destined to flow from it. In their efforts to preserve the fair inheritance which Julius II. had left to them, his successors were obliged to in- volve themselves in the intrigues and conflicts of European politics, and especially in the long contest between France and Austria for power and predominance in Italy. In par- ticular did the acquisitions made by Julius II. help forward the Protestant Reformation. The Papal control over Par- ma, Piacenza, and other Lombard towns, Charles Y. re- garded as a usurpation ; and, at the critical time of the Reformation, he was not disposed to strengthen his antago- nist by stifling the Lutheran movement. In like manner, the Popes were willing to use that movement as an element 86 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. of discord and weakness in the empire of Charles. At the moment when Charles was gaining his great success against the Reformers, in the Smalcaldic war, about the time of the battle of Miihlberg, Pope Paul III. sent a message to the King of France " to support those who were not yet beaten," that is, to aid the Protestants. Francis, the Pope, and the Protestants were found, on occasions of vital importance, in virtual alliance with each other. The Protestant cause was saved by the mutual jealousies and the selfish rivalship of its enemies. The separation of England from the Catholic Church was occasioned by the refusal of Clement YII. to grant the application of Henry YIII. for a divorce — a re- fusal that w^as due to the political relations then subsisting between the Pope and the emperor. To Julius II. belongs the distinction of founding the Papal kingdom as it has continued down to a recent day. It was not, however, until 1598 that Ferrara was brought un- der the immediate sovereignty of the Holy See, and not un- til 1649 that the Dukedom of Urbino was in like manner absorbed into the Papal kingdom. By the treaties of 1815, Austria gained a small strip of Papal territory situated on the left bank of the Po. YI. The Papal dominion in Italy felt the shock of the French Revolution, which caused all thrones to tremble. In 1790 the French ISTational Assembly incorporated with the French kingdom the Papal counties of Avignon and Yenaissin. As the Pope joined in the war against France, I^apoleon, in 1797, conquered his states and obliged him, in the peace of Tolentino, to renounce Avignon and Yenaissin forever, to give up the Legations of Ferrara, Bologna, and Romagna to the new Cisalpine Republic, to surrender the finest works of art to be transported to Paris, and to pay the costs of the war. The republican feeling spread as far as Rome, and in THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. 87 1798, a Roman Kepublic was proclaimed by the insurgent people. Pius YI. was carried from Rome as a prisoner and died in Yalence, in France, in 1799. During the absence of Bonaparte in Egypt, Italy was overrun by Suwarrow at the head of the allied army. It is needless to recount here the particulars of the prolonged conflict of Pius YII. with Napoleon. In 1809, a decree of the French emperor united the Papal States with his empire. In 1814, after the allies had entered France, the Pope returned to Rome. The re- actionary policy at once began to prevail, and the French system of law and administration, which had proved so beneficial to the Papal States, .was overthrown. At the Congress of Yienna, the Pope entered a protest against the cession of the little tract of territory on the Po to Austria, as well as against the retention by France of Avignon and Yenaissin, which, as we have said, had been formally given up. The maladministration of the Papal government, espe- cially the restoration of the confiscated ecclesiastical property, brought the finances of the kingdom into irretrievable ruin. Up to the accession of Pius IX., there was no sign of any disposition to vary from a blind, stubborn, and liberty-hat- ing conservatism. Efforts at rebellion — as those at Bologna in 1831 — had been suppressed by Austrian soldiery. The government of Gregory XYI. obstinately set itself against every enterprise looking towards political and social improve- ment, and evinced its hatred of freedom by incarcerating thousands of political offenders. The accession of Pius IX., in 1846, to the Papal chair, inspired the warmest hopes. He set free six thousand po- litical prisoners. He earnestly set about the work of im- proving and liberalizing the system of government. He was hailed as the chief of the liberal party in Italy. The Revolution in France, in 1848, was followed by the grant, from the Pope, of a Constitution embracing liberal provi- sions. The insurrection in Lombardy, against the Austrian rule, led to the breach between the Pope, who refused to 88 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. engage in a war with the Austrians, and the radical party ; and this party gaining the ascendancy, after the assassination of Rossi, in 1848, the Pope was obhged to fly from Rome. The Roman Republic was overthrown by French troops, and the Pope, under their protection, returned to Rome, in 1850. Of late, the progress of the new kingdom of Italy has given promise that the yearning for Italian unity will be real- ized, and that the temporal rule of the Pope must give way to the demand of a nation. Upon the evacuation of the States of the Church by the Austrian garrisons, immediately after the victories of the French and Sardinians at Magenta and Melagnano, in the summer of 1859, several of those states at once revolted from the Pope and proclaimed Victor Imman- uel king. The Papal government succeeded in reconquer- ing them, with the exception of Bologna, Ferrara, Ravenna, and Forli. After the peace of Yillaf ranca, the French em- peror denied the application of the Pope for aid in recover- ing these legations ; and their formal annexation to the Sar- dinian kingdom took place in 1860. The attempt of Lamori- ciere, the French general in the service of the Pope, to re- cover them, not only failed, but led to the further annexa- tion of Umbria and the Marches of Ancona to the Italian kingdom. Thus there was left to the Pope only the comar- ca of Rome, Civita Yecchia, Yelletri, and Frosinone, hav- ing an aggregate population of about half a million of in- habitants. The Italian statesmen probably expect that the retirement of the French garrison from Rome will be at- tended with the same result that followed the evacuation of the legations by the Austrians in 1859. The people will rise, overturn the government, and invite Victor Immanuel to incorporate them among his subjects and establish his court at Rome. After this historical survey we are prepared to consider what have been the character and effect of the Pope's secu- lar rule. And first, in respect to the States of the Church THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. 89 themselves, there can be no doubt that the government of the Popes has been, on the whole, an exceedingly bad govern- ment. On this point there can be no serious question among enlightened men. The exceptional periods, when there has been an improved administration, have been short and far between. Since the French Revolution, the great powers, including such as are most loyal to the Catholic Church and to the Supreme Bishop, have repeatedly used their endeav- ors to procure reforms. But they have been met by a stiff refusal to depart from the old system. It is supposed that the election of Pius IX. was owing to the conviction that the gross misgovernment at Rome could not long continue ; and that his liberal measures at the outset of his reign were due to this feeling. Now the vices of the Papal rule are not ac- cidental ; but they appear to belong inseparably to a govern- ment of priests like that which the Pope has been so long endeavoring to prop up by foreign bayonets. The settled disaffection and hostility of his subjects are well justified by the inherent and ineradicable vices of a priestly administra- tion. The effect of the Popes' temporal sovereignty on Italy has likewise been in the highest degree disastrous. The main- tenance of their teniporal power has led them to bring in foreign domination, the great curse of the peninsula, and to keep Italy divided. Macchiavelli, who inscribed his History of Florence to Clement YII., says that " all the wars which were brought upon Italy by the barbarians " — that is, foreign- ers — " were caused for the most part by the Popes, and all the barbarians who overrun Italy were invited in by them. This has kept Italy in a state of disunion and weakness." At this moment, the Pope's temporal dominion is the one great hindrance to the realization of Italian unity. When we inquire as to the influence of his temporal rule upon his character and influence as a spiritual ruler, it is an open question whether his position as secular prince did not, in the middle ages, protect and strengthen the papacy in 90 THE TEMPOEAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. general. If it did, and if the papacy in these times is ac- knowledged to have been, on the whole, a beneficial institu- tion, being a counterpoise to the spirit of irreligion and law- less barbarism, then we must admit that the temporal power was relatively a good thing. However this question may be answered, it is clear that the secular power of the Pope has had a corrupting and pernicious influeuce upon the character of his spiritual administration. Bellarmine, and other emi- nent Catholic theologians and casuists, have explained the consistency between the spiritual office of the Pope, and his position as a secular prince ; and have held that, in entire con- sistency with religion, a foreign prince or state may wage war with him in his character as an earthly sovereign. But as a matter of fact, as is w^ell known, the Pontiffs have never refrained from using the spiritual weapons in their hands, as the excommunication and the interdict, for the further- ance of the temporal interest. They have turned the awful powers of discipline, which are attributed to them, for the furtherance of their political schemes. The inevitable efPect must be, and has been, to degrade the spiritual function, and rob it of no small portion of the reverence which it might otherwise excite and maintain. Of the influence of the secu- lar dominion exercised by the Popes, and of the court which it creates, on their own personal character, history is an out- spoken witness. The covetousness, the ambition, the lux- ury, the open and shameless licentiousness, the atrocious crimes, which are chargeable on too many of the Popes — offenses which have moved the indignation of Catholic his- torians like Baronius, and poets like Petrarch and Dante — have commonly grown out of the temptations incident to the temporal sovereignty. By the occupations and pleasures which cluster about it. Pontiffs w4io are by no means to be counted among the worst, have been drawn aside from the proper work and character of Christian bishops. Father Paul, after praising Leo X. for his erudition, his humanity, his liberality, his love* of letters and arts, adds, with fine sa- THE TEIVIPOEAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. 91 tire, that " he would have been a perfect Pope, if with these qualities, he had united some knowledge of the affairs of re- ligion, and a somewhat greater inclination to piety, for neither of which he manifested much concern."* Dante's indig- nant protest against the temporal power of the Roman bishops, is familiar f : — " Laws indeed there are But who is he observes them ? None ; not he, Who goes before, the shepherd of the flock, Who chews the cud, but does not cleave the hoof,:|: Therefore the multitude, who see their guide Strike at the very good they covet most, Feed there, and look no further. Thus the cause Is not corrupted nature in yourselves, But ill-conducting, that hath turn'd the world To evil. Rome, that turn'd it unto good. Was wont to boast two suns, § whose several beams Cast light on either way, the world's and God's. Once since hath quench'd the other ; and sword Is grafted on the crook ; and so conjoin'd. Each must perforce decline to worse, unawed By fear of other." But can the temporal power be given up, and the spiritual power be left intact ? The affirmative is declared by some Catholic writers and statesmen. It is proposed that the Pope should surrender his temporal authority, but continue at Home the exercise of his spiritual functions, receiving an abundant revenue, together with an ample income for each of the cardinals. On the other hand, the Pope and his party stoutly contend that the temporal sovereignty is essen- tial to the full exertion of his spiritual functions, and there- fore cannot be given up. It must be allowed that cogent * latoria del Condi. Trident, lib. !., p. 5. f Purgatoi'io, xvi., 1. 100 — 115 (Gary's translation). X The allusion is to an unclean beast in the Levitical Law. (See Levit xi. 4.) § The emperor and the Bishop of Rome. 92 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. arguments may be brought forward on this side of the ques- tion. In the first place, as the Pope declares in his recent " Allocution," if he is not to be a ruler, he must be a sub- ject of one of the Catholic powers ; and, if a subject, he is constantly exposed to the suspicion of being warped or man- aged, in his spiritual government, by the power to w^liich he is thus, in a civil relation, subordinate. The experience of the papacy at Avignon, and the immense loss of prestige and influence consequent on the relation of the Popes, at that time, to the French kings, is one of the facts which lend a strong support to this plea put forth by Pius IX. On the contrary, the force of his argument seems to be neu- tralized by the consideration that, in the present state of the world, the Pope, as a temporal ruler, is incapable of sustain- ing himself, and is obliged to lean for support on a foreign power. If it be said that the surrender of his States is to compromise his independence, the reply is that his inde- pendence is lost already. There is still more weight in an additional argument, which is also touched upon by the Pope in the late "Allocution," that on becoming a subject he would at once be involved in a conflict of duties, or would be fettered in the promulgation of doctrine and the administration of discipline. The great question of mar- riage, which is now a prominent subject of contention be- tween the Pope and the Italian king, affords a fair illustra- tion. In the kingdom of Italy, and wherever the French law is in vogue, marriage by the civil contract alone is valid. To this law and practice the Pope is, of course, vehemently hostile. Marriage is a sacrament of the church, and the sanction of the priest is held to be indispensable. The con- trol which this doctrine gives to the priesthood is one of their greatest prerogatives, and no wonder that it is prized and defended to the last, l^ow, suppose the Pope to become a subject of Victor Immanuel. It is easy to see that his freedom to fulminate anathemas against the authors of the statute which abolishes this high prerogative, and against THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. 93 sucli as venture to take shelter under the law of the land, might be inconveniently restricted ; and that conflict be- tween the secular and ecclesiastical rulers would almost in- evitably spring up. And this is only one of the subjects on which variance and strife might easily arise. On a review of the whole question, we are inclined to agree with the Pope and his party in the opinion that the loss of the tem- poral power carries with it a partial loss of the spiritual. If the spiritual power could survive the surrender of the tem- poral, in undiminished vigor, the former might be enhanced, and the Catholic Church strengthened by the purifying in- fluence flowing from the change. The Pope would stand forth in the simple character of Supreme Bishop, fi^ee from the entanglements of secular rule. But, as we have just in- timated, it is doubtful whether his freedom, as a spiritual prince, would not be seriously impaired by the loss of his earthly kingdom. Will the Pope be dethroned ? If we looked solely at the past, we should give a negative answer to this question. We should say that if he be driven from his kingdom, he will re- gain it. Many times have the Popes been expelled from Pome. They have seen their dominions pass into other hands, and have wandered forth as fugitives and exiles. Often have they witnessed emergencies which, in outward appearance, were more threatening than the peril in which they are just now involved. The bark of St. Peter, to bor- row their own favorite simile, has frequently been tossed by the tempest, but has never been submerged. It has floated in safety in the midst of the rude blast, and at length the bil- lows have been composed to rest. But times have changed. There is, even in the Poman Catholic part of Christendom, a decline of faith in the Papal pretensions. The main point is that the papacy no longer enjoys in Europe the popular sympathy which was once its firm support. In the middle ages, the papacy was popular, sometimes even demagogical. In modem times, it has attached itself with bHnd, unyield- 94: THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. ing tenacity to the despotic principles and organs of the re- actionary anti-republican party in Europe. It vainly strug- gles to stem the tide of political sentiment which, notwith- standing occasional fluctuations, has been steadily rising since the commencement of the present century. The prospect, therefore, is that the Pope will be forced to yield up what remains to him of his Italian kingdom. If he could perma- nently change his residence, the problem would admit of another solution. He might become the master of some other province, or establish himself on some island of the Mediterranean. But it is only as bishop of the Roman Church that he can pretend to episcopal supremacy. For- saking that church by his own voluntary act, could he lon- ger claim the prerogatives of Peter ? If a theory could be devised for escaping from this difficulty, still the abandon- ment of Rome for a long period would bring upon him a great loss of consideration.* The peculiar glory that lin- gers over the eternal city, and over the papacy as identified with it, would be lost. The separation of Italy or of France, or of both, from the Papal See, would be an event which would be hailed by Protestants with joy. Such an event would open to the se- ceding kingdoms the possibility of religious reforms which are now precluded. The policy of toleration is now too firm- ly established, to render it possible, in either of the countries just mentioned, for Protestantism to be suppressed by the tyranny of an establishment, in case they were to break off their connection with the Roman Church. Unhappily, in * The Catholic theologians hold that the Bishop of Rome may reside away from that city, if he chooses. As long as he is Bishop of Rome, he is Supreme Pontiff. SaysPerrone : — " Fieri potest, ut suramus pontifex resideat Viennge, Mediolani, Berolini, aut Petropoli, nunquam vero potest fieri, ut simplex episcopus Viennensis aut Petropolitanua sit summus Pontifex ; ubicunque idcirco resideat, semper erit pontifex maximus, ut possit dici ac vere sit in primatu Petri successor." Perrone, t. 11., § 604. (Quoted in Hase, Handbuch der Protestantischen Polemik, etc., p. 242, n.) THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. 95 France, tlie ultramontane party is now in the ascendant. The old principles of Galilean freedom, for which Bossuet, and a body of great men before and after him, have con- tended, have lost ground and find but few advocates. In Italy, the prospect is more hopeful. It is not impossible that the prolonged and irritating conflict there between Pope and king will ultimately lead to an open renunciation of the ecclesiastical, as well as civil, pretensions of the Pope. Since the modern nations of Europe emerged into a distinct exis- tence, the feeling of national rights and of national inde- pendence, as opposed to foreign ecclesiastical control, has been steadily growing. A regard for the interest of the na- tion has outweighed the influence of religious affinities. Since Philip the Fair summoned together the estates of his realm to aid him in his opposition to the tyrannical meas- ures of Boniface YIII., the nation has generally been the uppermost thought, as compared with the church, in the policy of European rulers. The hostility of France to the Austrian house of Hapsburg brought the former to the as- sistance of the Protestant cause in the thirty years' war. Now we find Prussia and Italy in alliance against the same Catholic empire. The papacy is not so strong that it can afford to set itself against the national feeling and real wel- fare of any Catholic people. At the same time we have little confidence in the perma- nence of any triumph that is achieved over the Papal sys- tem, unless that triumph results from the power of enlight- ened religious convictions. In the last century, in Europe, the papacy — we speak of it as a system of spiritual rule — was at a low ebb. It seemed as if there were none so poor as to do it reverence. The Emperor Joseph 11. of Austria introduced into his dominions reforms that feU little short of an utter renunciation of Papal control. Everywhere the bonds of hierarchical rule were loosened. But the motive underlying these changes was, to a large extent, religious in- differentism. When religion revived, religious feeling flowed 96 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES.' in the old channel. In France, the Catholic Church is stronger than it was fifty years ago. It is on a believing, and not on a free-thinking, Protestantism that we must de- pend for a success that is to be enduring. It is requisite that deep and enlightened convictions of Christian truth, and a true love of the Gospel as understood by Protestants, should spread among the people of Catholic countries. The church is founded not on Peter as an individual, but on Peter as a warm and sincere confessor of the faith that Jesus is the Son of God and Saviour of the world. With the progress of this faith, unencumbered by th^ traditions of men, the decline and fall of the Papal system are linked. Political changes may be valuable auxiliaries, but it is easy to overes- timate their importance. Most Protestant Christians sympathize with the progress of the Italian kingdom, and hope to see the Pope lose his temporal power. This is not true of all, however ; and among the dissenters from the popular view is the illustrious scholar and statesman, Guizot. The publication, during the present year, of the fourth edition of his remarks on The Christian Church and Christia7i Society in 1861, indicates that his opinions on this question since that time have not changed. At the foundation of his interesting discussion is the proposition that every blow struck at one of the great churches is a blow struck at all and at Christianity itself. The Roman Catholic and the Protestant have adversaries in common, who are far more distant from both than the Cath- olic and Protestant are from one another. The Catholic and Protestant profess the same Christian faith, important as the points of disagreement are between them. The adver- saries attack this faith, and their attacks at the present day are mischievous and formidable. It is, therefore, suicidal, as well as wrong, for Protestants to join hands with indifferent- ism and irreligion, for the sake of weakening their ancient theological antagonist. Guizot proceeds to argue that the temporal kingdom of the Pope cannot be wrested from him THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. 97 without a violation of international law and public morality. He sees in the authority which it has become fashionable in France to concede to " universal sufPrage " the rising of a new despotism which is held to be stronger than the obligations of treaties and the settled principles of international right. Moreover, the attack on the Pope's temporal kingdom he considers an infringement of religious liberty. The tem- poral power is a condition of the exercise of the spiritual. It is the guaranty of the independence of the Papal office. The great body of Catholics so regard it. The temporal power grew up in connection with the spiritual, as a part and a fruit of the latter. Besides, he thinks that the policy of the Italian kingdom is principally dictated by political ambition. If the Pope be driven from Rome, Guizot thinks that this event will not give more than a momentary success to the Italian movement. The Roman Catholic population, the world over, will be roused to a sense of the injury done to their chief and thus indirectly to themselves. The con- sequence will be that widespread and increasing agitation will lead to positive measures for the restoration of the Pope to his rightful throne. Guizot does not confine himself to an expression of his reasons for not approving the Sardinian movement. He in- dicates w^hat he believes to be the real need of Italy, and the way in which it should be met. Italy needs independence and liberty — independence of foreign control and liberty within. Both of these ends he holds it possible to secure by peaceful means, apart from all revolutionary measures. The abridgment of liberty in the Italian States he attributes, to a considerable extent, to the revolutionary ferment. But Italian unity, in the sense in which the phrase is taken gen- erally, he believes to be at once unnecessary and impractica- ble. His plan would be to establish a confederation, em- bracing all the States of the Peninsula as they existed prior to the revolutions which have so enlarged the borders of the Sardinian kingdom. In a confederacy of this kind, he con- 5 98 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. ceives that all tlie unity that is desirable or attainable could be realized. To give strength to the various parts com- posing such a body, he would wish that they should be near- ly equal to one another, no one State being much beyond any of the rest in power and resources. It is evident that Guizot has little faith in political changes which are due to revolutionary agencies. He uses strong language when con- demning the action of the Italian Government in confiscat- ing ecclesiastical property, and in reference generally to their treatment of the Catholic Church. Yet he does not omit to express satisfaction that he is a Protestant, and re- gret that the authorities of the Roman Catholic Church do not see the advantage, as well as duty, ot coming out in fa- vor of full religious toleration. We must confess ourselves not convinced by this reason- ing. The fact is obvious that the Papal civil administration is not only distasteful to the subjects of it, but is extremely bad — inherently bad. It is a fact equally obvious that the condition of Italy, partly in consequence of the Papal king- dom, has been deplorable. The discontent of the people is owing to misgovernment. So we cannot but think that their desire to become a nation is legitimate and laudable. Nor does Guizot's scheme of a confederation, even were it within reach, seem to promise good. If it is to be united by no bond «tronger than the bands which held the Greek states togeth- er, or which lately connected the members of the Germanic body, it would prove to be a rope of sand. If, on the con- trary, it were a bond like that of the American Union, Italy w^ould be, to all intents and purposes, a single nation, and that member of the nation over which the Pope presides would inevitably prove to be refractory and unmanageable. The Pope, if he were to belong to such a confederacy, would be bound to abide by its policy in respect to foreign nations, not to speak of domestic affairs, and would be as far from a situ- ation of independence as it is claimed he would be were he a subject of the Italian king. THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. 99 Our conclusion is that the "logic of events" is hurrying the Pope to the coerced surrender of his temporal power, and that a portion of his spiritual power must eventually go with it. Whether this great change will take place speedily, and in consequence of the progress of the new Italian king- dom, it is impossible to say. The effect of an exile of the Pope from Home, growing out of a refusal on his part to acquiesce in the absorption of his territory in the new king- dom, may be such as Guizot describes. Disturbances may arise which will lead, as when the late Roman Republic was overthrown, to the regaining of his throne. Even when Victor Immanuel establishes himself at Rome, it will be too early to say that the Pope's temporal power is gone forever. So unsettled is the political condition of all Europe, that a confident judgment on this point would be premature. [At the beginning of the Franco- German war, IN^apoleon m. withdrew the French troops from Italy. Shortly after, on the 20th of September, 1870, Victor Emanuel took pos- session of Rome. The relations of the Pope to the Italian government were defined in the law of the Papal guaran- tees, which was enacted on the 13th of May, 1871. By this law it was provided that the person of the Pope should be sacred and inviolable ; that attacks upon his person should be punished in the same manner as like offences against the king ; that he should have the honors of a sovereign, and all the distinctions which Catholic monarchs had heretofore accorded to him ; that 3,225,000 lire should be annually granted him; that the Vatican and Lateran palaces, and the Castel Gandolfo, with their appurtenances, should be given up to him to use, and that they should be inalienable, and with all their contents — libraries, museums, and the like — should be exempt from taxation ; likewise that no gov- ernment officials should enter these places, on official busi- ness, without the Pope's permission ; that this rule should also hold good of places where conclaves and councils are 100 THE TEMPORAL KINGDOM OF THE POPES. assembled ; that the Pope's correspondence should be free, and that he should have his own postal department and tele- graph ; that all ecclesiastical institutions in Kome, and in the suburban dioceses should be under his exclusive authority ; but that no aid should be rendered by the secular power in the execution of ecclesiastical sentences. If these should be at variance with the law of the state, they would be null and void. These liberal concessions went as far as it was practicable to go without constituting the papacy an imperium in im- jperio. Pius IX., in repeated protests, repudiated this law, and he refused to receive the grant of money which it of- fered him, or to yield to the enactment anything but a pas- sive submission. Thus, in an encyclical to all patriarchs, archbishops, etc., on the 15th of May, 1871, he declared that he could not surrender his rights, " which are the rights of God and of the Apostolic See," with which the Popes had been invested, in the providence of God, for eleven hun- dred years. He asserted the impossibility that a Pope of Rome could be independent in his office, as long as he is subject to a temporal sovereign who might be an infidel or a heretic, or might be at war with other princes. The act of guarantees of 1870 had left the ecclesiastical establishments in Rome and its dioceses under the exclusive control of the Pope. By a law passed on the 19th of July, 1873, the laws in virtue of which such institutions in all the other parts of the Italian kingdom had been obliged to give up their im- movable property to the government, and to submit to the regulations imposed by the civil authority, were made ap- plicable to the province of Rome. Among the qualifications, however, which were attached to the new enactment was the important provision appropriating to the Pope 400,000 francs annually for the support of the generals of the re- ligious orders."^] * The various documents referred to above may be found in Von Kremer-Auenrode u, Hirsch, Bos Staatsarchiv, I. Supplementband zu b. xxiii., xxiv., Leipzig, 1877. COUNCILS OF CONSTANCE AND THE VATICAN. 101 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND THE COUN- CIL OF THE VATICAN.* The Coimcil of Constance, which was in session during the interval between the years 1414 and 1418, was the most brilliant and imposing of the ecclesiastical assemblies of the middle ages. If the number of bishops present was not so large as at some of the other gi-eat synods of the church, this difference was more than made up by the multitude of inferior clergy, of doctors and of jurists, and by the unex- ampled array of sovereigns and nobles. Pope and emperor were both present, each with a numerous and dazzling reti- nue of officers and attendants. It has been pronoimced the first example of a congress of princes in modern times, since there was hardly a kingdom or principality of the catho- lic world, however small or remote, that was not represented by princes or other deputies. A throng of not less than fifty thousand people, drawn by official obligation, curiosity, the love of gain or of pleasure, flowed into the city of Constance, to witness the doings of the council. It has been truly said that a detailed description of the scenes that took place with- in and without the assembly, would afford a complete as well as vivid picture of the life and manners of the time. The occasion that called the council together was of the * An article from The New Englander for April, 1870, in review of Con- ciliengescJiichte. Nach den Quellen bearbeitet von Dr. Carl Joseph Hefele, o. 6 Professor an der Universitat Tubingen. Siebenter Band. I. Abtb. Geschichte des ConcUs von Constam. Freiburg im Breisgau 1869 : The Centenary of St. Peter and the General Council : A Pastoral Letter to the Clergy, &c. By Henry Edward, Archbishop of Westminster. London : Longmans, Green & Co. , 1867. 102 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND gravest character. The abuses in the administration of the church had grown to be unbearable. In Bohemia there was a formidable religious movement that threatened to result' in the establishment of a new and powerful sect. Above all, the long schism which the Council of Pisa had unsuccessfully tried to terminate, demanded an instant and effectual remedy, if Christendom and the Catholic Church were to be saved from permanent division. It is to the proceedings of this synod, that the new instalment of He- fele's copious work on the History of Councils is devoted. Hefele is one of the most learned and justly esteemed of the Catholic theologians north of the Alps. His work is one to which a Protestant, to be sure, must often take ex- ception; yet, generally speaking, it is characterized by a spirit of fairness, and it is not probable that it contains any intentional perversion of facts or sophistry in argument. Hefele is frequently called a liberal Catholic ; and so he is, in comparison with the curialists or extreme ultramontanist party. On the particular question whether the Pope is, by himself and independently of the concurrence of a council, infallible in matters of faith and morals, we do not find that, in the work before us, he distinctly avows his opinion. But he is far from being a Gallican, in the sense of the old Paris theologians, who exerted a commanding influence in the reforming councils of Pisa, Constance, and Basle, or in the sense of Bossuet, who followed in their track. In fact, he describes his own position as being a middle one, between the Galileans on the one hand and the curialists on the other. The Pope is neither ohove nor under the council, but is the head of the church ; his relation being analogous to that of the head to the members of the human body. A council without the Pope is incomplete. It is not an oecumenical council. His assent to the dogmatic decrees of such an assembly is requisite, to give them infallible au- thority. Yet Hefele holds, as indeed does Bellarmine, that a council might depose a Pope for heresy, inasmuch as THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 103 a heretic is ipso facto disqualified from holding an ecclesias- tical office, high or low.'^ But in such a proceeding the council does not act as an oecumenical assembly. Being cut off from the Pope, it cannot act in this capacity. We have the singular doctrine, then, that an assembly of bishops, which is incompetent, without the Pope's assent, to issue in- fallible definitions of doctrine, is still competent to put the Pope on trial for heresy, convict him, and degrade him from his office. Hefele shows his conservatism, also, in maintaining that a Pope cannot be deposed by a council for personal misconduct. He may be a very bad man, but he cannot for this reason be deprived of his office. John XXIII., Hefele expressly says, could not have been lawfully deposed for his crimes. It was only heresy on his part that could authorize such a proceeding. The doubtful validity of his election is brought in, as another sufficient cause for removing him from his station. How far this theory is from that of the Constance theologians and of hosts of able and good Catholics in past ages, we need not stop to point out. In his History, Hefele is evidently biased by the theory as to the relation of the Pope to the council, to which we have just adverted. He supports, by feeble argimients, the often refuted assertion that the Bishops of Eome convoked and presided over the early oecumenical councils, including that of Nicea. The proposition that the Roman bishop convoked the Council of l^icea, rests on no proof that has any weight, and is contrary to all the evidence and probabili- ties in the case. It was Constantine who endeavored to quell the disturbance raised by Arius at Alexandria. It w^as through his fi*iend Hosius, the Spanish bishop whom he held in so high esteem, that he sent his letter which was designed to pacify the contending parties. ITot a syllable do * Bellarraine, as will be explained hereafter, does not admit, for him- self, that a Pope will ever be left to fall from the faith. 104 THE COmrCIL OF CONSTANCE AND we hear from the contemporary historians and witnesses, of any connection of the Roman bishop with these preliminary events. Constantino, in all his letters and missives that re- late to the council, says nothing about the Pope. The as- sertion that Hosius acted for the Pope and presided in his name, is not only a pure conjecture, but is virtually contra- dicted by Eusebius, who speaks of the Roman presbyters as acting for the Roman prelate, and although Hosius is named in the same sentence, no such representative cha;*acter is as- cribed to him. That Hosius signs the decrees of the synod first, is owing to the circumstance that he was a "world- renowned " man, as Eusebius says of him ; to his personal relations to the emperor ; and to the probable fact that he was one of the presidents, not as standing in the Pope's place, but through his own merits. It was he and Eusebius of Csesarea, as Stanley justly thinks, who sat, one on each side of the emperor, when that august personage took his place in the midst of the council. The two Roman presby- ters signed after Hosius — we assume that the authorities which report the signatures in this order are correct — out of respect to the Roman bishop, to whom a primacy of dignity would probably have been conceded, had he been present ; although, even in this case, it is not certain that the name of Hosius would not have been first inscribed. Now that the pseudo-Isidorian misconceptions and misrep- resentations respecting the powers conceded to the Roman bishops in the first centuries, have been so long exploded, is it too much to hope that Roman Catholic writers will cease to strain historical evidence for the sake of establishing an indefensible position ? The sole authority which Hefele cites for the pretended presidency of the Roman prelate at Kicea, is Gelasius of Cyzicus, who wrote towards the end of the fifth century — an utterly worthless witness, a mau- vais comjpil-ateur^ as Dupin calls him. Gelasius interpolates, in a quotation from Eusebius, the statement that the Pope presided by representatives. But his whole narrative of the. THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 105 council swarms with errors. He even gives an account of discussions on the doctrine of the Holy Ghost, although, as is well known, the subject was not touched at the council. One may see how desperate the case is, when a scholar, like Hefele, finding nothing in Eusebius or Socrates or Athana- sius, to afford any aid to his position, falls back on Gela- sius! The two topics of most interest which are brought for- ward in Hefele's recent volume on the proceedings at Con- stance, are the decrees of the Ith and 5th Sessions, affirming the subordination of Pope to council, and the trial and exe- cution of Huss. Hefele dissents, of course, from the view of the extreme curialists, who deny the oecumenicity of the Constance council altogether. It requires, indeed, some hardihood even in them to take such ground, in the face of the distinct declaration of Martin Y., in the bull against the Hussites. But Hefele allows an oecumenical character only to those acts of the council which were done after the election of the Pope and with his approval (the 41st to 45th Sessions, inclusive), together with such other previous acts and decrees as were ratified by him. All the ingenuity of the Papal theologians has been exerted in the effort to show that the famous doctrines of the 4th and 5th Sessions never had Papal sanction. The decrees which had been agreed upon in the meetings of the nations, were to be read in the general session (the 4th) by Zabarella, Cardinal of Florence, the anti-Gallican spokesman. But it was found that in his hands they had undergone an alteration. One of the changes was that in the 1st Article which declared the obli- gation of all, the Pope included, to obey the council, the words, " Reformation in head and members " — one of the points in regard to which the obligation to submit to the council was affirmed — ^were left out. This, Hefele states, was by an arrangement between Sigismund and the cardinals. Then the intelligence came that the Pope had fled again, 5* 106 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND leaving Scliaffhausen. The council now insisted upon the passage of the Articles as originally conceived, and as ap- proved by the nations, and this took place at the 5th General Session, at which Zabarella and seven other cardinals were present. They made no protest, and the Articles were passed in due form. We cannot admit, therefore, the plea of Ilefele, that on account of their secret objections or pri- vate declarations, supposing these to have been in opposition to the decrees, they were rendered invalid. In two dis- courses of Gerson, they were quoted before the council as authoritative acts, and no voice was lifted up to dispute the statement. They are to be regarded as the decrees of the council, not less than the declarations of the preceding ses- sion. But we do not see that Ilefele materially helps his case, were he to succeed in showing that the proceedings of the 5th Session were without the assent of the cardinals. For the 1st Article, as read by Zabarella and passed in the 4th Session, is all that a Galilean can ask. It read thus : " The Synod of Constance, regularly assembled in the Holy Ghost, forming a universal council and representing the militant church, has its authority immediately from God, and every one, the Pope included, is bound to obey it in wliat pertains to the faith and to the extirpation of schism." * This is enough. The superiority of the coun- cil to the Pope is unambiguously declared. And as to the omitted clause — "the reformation of the church in head and members " — the council practically vindicated its right * " Et prirao declarat, quod ipsa in Spiritu Sancto, legitime congregata, generale Concilium faciens, et Ecclesiam Catholicam miiitantem reprae- sentans, potestatem a Christo immediate habet, cui quilibet, cujuscun- que status, vel dignitatis, etiamsi papalis, existat, obedire tenetur in his, qua pertinent ad fidem et exstirpationem dicti schismatis, ac generalem re- foi^mationem ecclesim Dei in capite et in memhris,^'' etc. The council proceeds to assert that disobedience to its behests and ordinances, come from whatever quarter it may, even from a Pope, will subject the offender to condign penance, and to punishment. Van d. Hardt, iv. p. 72. Gieseler, III.,v. 1, §131, n. 8. THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 107 on this point by deposing John XXIII., and by other meas- ures equally significant. But how about the approval of the Popes ? In the first place, John XXIII., before his de- position, declared, over and over again, that the council was "holy and could not err." Hefele himself quotes these declarations. To be sure, Balthasar Cossa was one of the most flagitious of men, although Hefele would mitigate somewhat the verdict of execration that was pronounced upon him by his contemporaries. But he was Pope, never- theless, up to the time of his deposition. In the second place, Martin Y. sanctioned the proceedings of the council, in terms that cover the 4th and 5th Sessions. ]^o matter what reluctance he may have felt in doing this. No matter what counter expressions he may have uttered. In the matter of Falkenberg, who had so grievously incensed the Poles by his book, and whom the French, on account of the affinity of his doctrines with those of Jean Petit, wished also to condemn, the Pope declared that he maintained the decrees of the council as to everything which had been adopted in materiis fidei et conciliariter. The verdict against Falkenberg had been passed in the nations, but not in the general session. This is the sense of the term concili- ariter. It is not opposed to tumultuariter^ as Hefele seemed to think, in his first volume ; but to nationaliter. ISTow the decrees of the 4th and 5th Sessions were adopted conciliari- ter. Hefele objects, again, that they are not defide. That is, they are not of a dogmatic character. They were ob- viously so meant ; and this Hefele himself concedes.* If the supremacy of Pope over council can be made into a dogma, w^hy not the reverse proposition ? If the infallibility of the Pope can be turned into an article of the creed, why not the infallibility of the council ? But look at Martin's bull against the Hussites. In this bull, it was provided that every person suspected of holding the condemned heresies ♦ P. 104. 108 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND of "Wickliffe and Huss, should be required by bishop or in- quisitor to say, among other things, whether he believes that " what the Holy Council of Constance, representing the universal church, has sanctioned and sanctions m fdvorem fidei et salutem animarum is binding on all Christian be- lievers, and also that what the synod has condemned as contrary to the faith, must be held by all to deserve reproba- tion." Hefele can do nothing with this passage except to construe the terms, in fcmorem fidei et salutem animajrum^ as restrictive ! As if Martin, in a bull for the suppression of heresy, which aimed to accomplish its end by bringing the authority of the council to bear heavily upon offenders, would couple with the assertion of the oecumenical character of the synod, a partial denial of the same ! As if he would suggest to persons heretically inclined, that decrees not judged to be in famorem fidei and for the health of souls, need not be respected ! But Hefele is compelled to resort to the hypothesis that Martin Y. pui-posely used ambiguous language, such as might be understood by each party as favoring its cause against the other. That is, he intended that the supporters of the council should understand him to approve of their doctrine, at the same time that he left a loop-hole out of which he could escape ! We think more charitably, in this instance, of Martin Y., and we interpret him as giving a full and unqualified assent to the decrees and declarations, passed in general session, of the Council of Constance. In the third place, when the Council of Basle had reafiirmed the Constance decrees on the point in ques- tion, Eugene lY. gave them his express and unqualified sanction. The pretence of the curialists, that this was done imder stress, will not answer. There was the force of pub- lic opinion and the pressure of circumstances, so that he did what he would have preferred not to do ; but he acted freely, without coercion. Moreover, his legates solemnly swore to observe the decrees of the Council of Basle, before they were permitted to preside. We might bring other evidence THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 109 to prove that Popes have sanctioned the Constance doc- trine, upon the relative authority of councils. But the great French historians and theologians have established the fact long ago. It is only the fresh assertion of the contrary proposition by Hefele, and his particular mode of defending it, that has induced us to enter into the question at all. The subject of the trial and execution of Huss is treated by Hefele, on the whole, with commendable fairness. There are occasional criticisms on the character and on the state- ments of Huss, to which we do not assent, but which are to be expected from a Roman Catholic, even though his pro- clivities are humane and liberal. Huss, though strongly in- fluenced by the writings of Wickliffe, was quite a different man in his intellectual cast. Huss did not carry out his principles, as Wickliffe did, to their logical consequences ; although, had he lived longer, he might have worked out a more complete system. The council found it difficult to fasten on propositions w^hich, in the sense in which they were intended by him, could justly be declared heretical ; and the impatience and passion of the assembly prevented him from having a fair and attentive hearing. His occa- sional paradoxes, which were in themselves innocent, were perversely construed into an assault upon the foundations of civil as well as ecclesiastical authority. But the council were sagacious enough to discern that he disowned the au- thority of the church, and placed himself on the Scriptures as he understood them. He was, in truth, a Protestant in this essential principle. He was ready to renounce errors, if he could be convinced that his opinions were errors ; but he would not abjure his opinions at the mere command of the council. He presented thus, in the attitude which he assumed before that body, a practical demonstration to their eyes that he was a heretic. D'Ailly, Gerson, and the rest of the eminent men who led in the council, and who were 110 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND ready to pull the offending Pope down from liis throne, were attached as firmly as possible to the doctrine of hier- archical authority. They simply held the episcopal, aristo- cratic theory that this authority inheres not in the Pope per- sonally, but is diffused through the hierarchical body ; that the centre of gravity is in the whole assembly of bishops, and not in the primate.* They felt it the more necessary, since they were effecting changes with a high hand, to mark the limits of the reform which they aspired to achieve ; ancj this limit, as one has said, they did mark with blood. Every enlightened Protestant Christian who believes that the Scrip- tures are the guide in doctrine and life, and that the disci- ple has the right to intei-pret the Scriptures for himself, looks up to Huss as a noble witness for the truth and an il- lustrious martyr. It is evident that his uprightness, his sin- cerity, his unfaltering courage, his spirit of forgiveness, so like that of the Master, make a deep impression even upon men like Hefele, who yet deem his doctrinal position an er- roneous one. Luther said, in view of the words and con- duct of Huss, that if he was not a good Christian, there never was one. Eespecting the execution of Huss, Hefele has interesting re- marks, which are designed to soften the condemnation which * The Gallicans distic^ished between the ecclesia universalis, on the one hand, whose only head is Christ, and in which are included Pope, cardinals and prelates, priests, kings and princes, and people (plebeii), and in which there is salvation, even if there were no Pope to be found in the world, and, on the other hand, the more restricted ecclesia apos- tolica, composed of Pope, bishops, and other ecclesiastics, which is common- ly called the Church of Rome, and of which the Pope is considered the head. The Church Universal can never err ; the Church of Rome can err and fall into heresy. "Et haec longe minoris auctoritatis videtur esse universali ecclesia." (See the passages from Gerson, in Niedner's Kirchengesch. , p. 560, n.) Some of the Galilean leaders held that even a general council could err. This was affirmed by Peter d'Ailly at Con- stance. (For the passages, see Gieseler, III., v. 1, § 131, n. 4.) But Gal- licanism finally settled down upon the opinion that a general council is infallible. THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. Ill is visited on the council for this act ; for it is the council, and not IIuss, which, in modem days, is on trial. He urges the fact that all civil punishments in those days were severe and barbarous, even when judged by our standards and by existing codes. He also shows that, according to the univer- sal opinion of that age, a heretic, convicted by the proper ecclesiastical authority, should and must be put to death by the civil magistrate. Huss was adjudged a heretic by the highest judicial body; and his opinions were, in fact, if compared with the creed, heretical. The legislation, how- ever, which inflicted such penalties upon heresy, Hefele styles " Draconian," and he deplores the execution of Huss the more, since great disadvantages have resulted to the church from this iron legislation, and countless misunder- standings and misconceptions have been occasioned by it. Hefele brings up the burning of Servetus, as an illustra- tion of the sentiments prevalent even a hundred years later and among Protestants, respecting the right mode of deal- ing with heretics. The feeble attempts which have been made in times past to relieve Calvin from the responsibility connected with the death of Servetus, are now, for the most part, abandoned, as they ought to be. Calvin, seven years before the arrest of Servetus, said that if he came to Geneva, he should not, with his (Calvin's) consent, go away alive. He approved and justified the execution. The "mild Me- lancthon," as Hefele truly says, joined in this approval. Protestants generally, at that time, held that civil magis- trates should use the sword, which is entrusted to them, for the extirpation of heresy. The theory of religious persecu- tion is now given up, for two reasons. First, there is un- doubtedly a different estimate of the criminality involved in holding erroneous opinions in religion, and a disposition to more charitable judgment. Along with this feeling, there is a stronger sense of the difficulty of measuring the guilt of false belief. Yet this is not the only, nor is it the chief, influence whicli renders Protestants averse to the use of 112 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND force against what they consider dangerous and mischievous errors. J^or is the experience of the futility of forcible and violent means for the defence of truth, the sole or the prin- cipal cause of this change. We may hold that men are morally responsible for their beliefs, inasmuch as they are responsible for using those means of ascertaining the truth which God has placed within their reach, and because character cannot be dissevered from belief ; and, at the same time, we may hold that it is utterly wrong to use force for the propagation of truth or the extirpation of error. The real ground of this view is, that it is not the function of the church to use, directly or indirectly, any but moral influences against religious error, and that it is not the f imc- tion of the state to punish men for their opinions. This radical alteration in the view that is taken of the proper function of the state, and of the church as well, is the ground of toleration; although the other motives to the exercise of this spirit, which have been adverted to, are co- gent auxiliary reasons. There are two important differences between Protestants and Roman Catholics, in regard to this subject. The first is, that the amount of persecution of which Protestants have been guilty is far less than that for which Catholics, in the same period of time, are account- able. Thus, Protestants have never perpetrated such cruel- ties as were perpetrated in the Netherlands by the Roman Catholics under Philip of Spain and through the Inquisi- tion. This difference is not an unimportant one ; since it shows that the misgivings which spring from humane Chris- tian feeling have had far more practical influence in neutral- izing the power of wrong principles among Protestants than among Roman Catholics. It took some time for Protestants to emancipate themselves from the theory of persecution, which was an heir-loom from the middle ages and the Catholic hierarchy ; but even before this happy re- sult was consummated, it was manifest that the old princi- ple of suppressing error by force had relaxed its hold upon THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 113 the Protestant mind. The main difference between Protes- tants and Catholics on this subject, however, is that while we disown the theory of persecution, and lament that Prot- estants should have been so mistaken as to be guilty of it ; while, in short, we heartily repent, so far as one generation can repent of the errors of another, of all the instances of re- ligious persecution in which Protestants bore a part, the Cath- olic Church makes no such confession and exercises no such compunction. Hefele may deplore the severity of the sen- tence against Huss, but even he does not commit himself to an absolute rejection of the theory on which that sentence was pronounced. To the attitude of the Catholic Church generally on this point, we shall soon have occasion again to refer. The true force and intent of the safe-conduct which Sigis- mund had given to Huss, is a topic of much interest to the historical student. Did the safe-conduct, properly interpret- ed, protect the bearer of it against the council, as well as from attacks which might emanate from all other persons and bodies ; or was it merely a passport ensuring his safety on the journey to Constance, a hearing before the council, and a safe return in case of acquittal ? This last interpretation is strenuously advocated by Hefele. With him agrees Pa- lacky, the learned and usually accm-ate historian of Bohemia.* The same view is adopted by Leo, the German historian, al- though his very lukewarm Protestantism should prevent him from being quoted, as he sometimes is, as a Protestant authority. On the other side are Hallam and most of the other Protestant historians. Xeander speaks of the restrict- ed interpretation of the safe-conduct as a device of modem sophistical historians, and considers that Sigismund was guilty of a perfidious violation of his promise. How stands the evidence ? If we look at the terms of the * QescMchte der Bohmen, III., ii., p. 357, n. 114 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND safe-conduct, we find that Huss is taken nnder the protection of Sigismund and of the empire, and that all lords and mag- istrates are enjoined to permit him, without hindrance or mo- lestation, to go and return — " transire, stare, morari, et redire libere." Hefele concedes that his safe return was guaran- teed, provided he should be acquitted ; but no exception or proviso is found in the document itself. This exception Hefele considers to be implied in the nature of the case. Huss was going before a judicial body to be tried, and it is not to be supposed that the emperor would undertake to protect him against the very tribunal before which, as an ac- cused person, he was to make answer. The reply to this is, that Huss did not so regard the council. He often said that he desired to bring his cause before the council ; but in his expressions of this nature, there is always the avowed or implied qualification, that unless he can be convinced of the error of his opinions, he shall not abandon them. To give up his alleged errors, provided they can be shown to be such, he ever professes his readiness, but only on this condition. In reality, he wished to vindicate himself before so great an assembly, and in this public and conspicuous manner, against aspersions that had been thrown out by his enemies, and he wished to show what sort of a man he was by a free and open declaration of his opinions and feelings. It was always far from his design, as his whole conduct as well as words prove, to surrender the convictions of his own mind, in con- sequence of a mandate from any man or body of men. Ko weight, therefore, is to be attached to this argument of Hefele, especially as there is no evidence that Sigismund, prior to the council, had a materially different idea respecting the design of Huss's visit to Constance, from that of Huss himself. But what was the interpretation which Huss himself gave to the safe-conduct ? He considered that Sigismund had bound himself to bring him back in safety to Bohemia. In one of his last letters, he accuses Sigismund of breaking his engage- ment, and says, that he ought to have told the council : "If THE COTTNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 115 he (Huss) does not choose to abide the decision of the coun- cil, I will send him to the king of Bohemia, together with your sentence and the documents in support of it, to the end that he [the king] with his clergy may judge him." * Huss adds that Sigismund had allowed Henry Lefi and others to say to him, that he should be brought back imhurt, in case he chose not to submit to the judgment of the council. Peter von Mladenowicz, the friend of Huss, declares the same thing. Hefele and Palacky say that nothing should have been built by Huss and his friends on such declarations, since they manifestly transcended the bounds of Sigismund's lawful power. But this answer appears to us insufficient. The veracity of Huss cannot be called in question ; and if the official agents of Sigismund gave him this assurance, it is probable that Sigismund expected to be able to verify it. That Sigismund blushed when Huss fixed his eyes upon him, at the moment when the sentence of the council was pro- nounced, rests upon the testimony of a credible eye-witness. That it was a fact widely reported, may be inferred from the remark of Charles Y. at Worms, when, in reference to a suggestion that he should avail himself of the opportunity to lay hold of Luther, he said that he would not blush like his predecessor Sigismund. Whether more or less impor- tance is attached to this famous blush of Sigismund, the fact seems to rest on pretty good authority. The only argument of much weight on Hefele's side of the question, is derived from a passage in one of the remonstrances addressed by the Bohemian nobles to Sigismund, after Huss had been taken into custody, and before he had been brought before the council. The arrest of Huss, as is well known, was effected by the cardinals on their ovm authority, with the consent of John XXHI. — involuntary consent, as he declared to the Bohemians. It is acknowledged on all hands that this im- prisonment was considered, by the Bohemian friends of Huss, * The language of Huss is given by Hefele, p. 226. 116 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND and by Sigismiind himself, a flagrant violation of the terms of the safe-conduct. Sigismund, having threatened to liber- ate him hj force, actually went so far as to quit Constance — so indignant was he that the council did not adopt effi- cient means to relieve him from this disgrace. It was only when it was strongly represented to him that if the council was to be controlled in its action, all the hopes of reform and of terminating the schism would be nipped in the bud, that he consented to come back. When by the flight of his custodians, Huss was released from the hands of the cardi- nals, the Bohemians were confident in the expectation that Sigismund would deliver him from his cruel confinement and procure for him a hearing before the council. When this did not follow, but Huss was still kept in prison, the Bohe- mians were yet more aggrieved and exasperated. Among the petitions and remonstrances with which they endeavored to move the council and Sigismund to fulfill the obligations under which he had placed himself, there is one in which they say, that provided Huss is found guilty before the council, and his false doctrine is shown to him, they do not expect that he is to go away unpunished, but that the em- peror may then do with him what he chooses. The phrase is : — " Kec vero cupimus, ut convictus, falsaque doctrina ipsi ostensa, impunitus abeat. Sed tum prout potest, cum ipso agat, deque ipso quod vult f aciat." * Possibly they mean no more than Huss meant himself in his professions of a will- ingness to bow to the council, if they will show him — that is, make him see — that he is in error. We must allow that this is not the most natural interpretation of the phrase. It is more naturally interpreted as implying a strong desire that he should be delivered from his gaolers and be heard before the council, with the judgment of which, even if un- favorable to Huss, his friends would be content. If this be the true meaning of the passage in the Bohemians' petition * Van der Hardt, iii., 33. THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 117 to Sigismnnd, we must conclude that the exact sense of the safe-conduct was not definitely understood by all of the par- ties concerned, and that a discussion and difference of opin- ion as to its intent and scope sprung up, when the true mean- ing of it became a matter of vital moment.* In this place, we may notice an unjust criticism of Hefele upon Gieseler. Says the former : " Finally, in reference to the letter of safe-conduct, another still heavier offence has been laid to the charge of the Council of Constance, which Gieseler thus formulizes : * in order to justify the emperor on account of his violated safe-conduct, the council put forth the shameless decree, that no faith is to be kept with a heretic ! ' For the sake of giving at least the semblance of a proof, Gieseler cites two decrees of the Constance Sjmod, which Yan der Hardt (t. iv., p. 521) and Mansi (t. xxvii., pp. 791 and 799) have communicated. The first of them says : ' if a prince, also, has given out a letter of safe-con- duct, the Ecclesiastical Court is still authorized to bring the person charged with heresy to an examination, and, if he shows himself guilty and contumacious, to punishment ; neverthe- less, he who has given the safe-conduct is bound, as far as stands in his power, to labor to fulfil it.' I know not what solid objection any one, from the stand-point of those times, could bring to this. But against Gieseler it can be said with the best reason, that he has grossly sinned against the synod and against the truth, in just leaving out the conclusion of the reprobated decree, viz. : ' that the giver of the safe-con- duct must do his utmost to fulfil it.' " Gieseler combines with an unsurpassed thoroughness of investigation an un- equalled accuracy of statement. His frigid impartiality is one of his leading characteristics. He is totally incapable * The safe- conduct obtained for Jerome was differently drawn up ; but this proceeded from the council. Ferdinand, King of Aragon, exerted himself to persuade Sigismund that he ought not, on account of the safe-conduct, to protect the heretic from the penalty of death. 118 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND of a wilful suppressio ve7'i. Looking into Yan der Ilardt, we find that the decree referred to is abbreviated and imper- fectly paraphrased by Hefele, in the passage just cited. The decree declares that a safe-conduct issued to heretics or persons charged with heresy, by kings or other princes, with whatever bond they may have bound themselves — quocunque vinculo se astrinxerint — can work no prejudice to the Catho- lic faith and interpose no hindrance in the way of the ar- raignment and punishment of such persons by the proper ecclesiastical tribunal, even though they may have come to the place of trial, trusting in the safe-conduct, and would not have come without it. Then follows the concluding sentence, omitted by Gieseler : " IS'or is the promisor, when he has otherwise done what in him lies, any further obliged, in consequence of his engagement." * Now, it is obvious that this sentence does not affect materially the import of the de- cree. But in the text of Yan der Hardt, it is given in brackets (with a reference to two manuscripts in which it is found) ; and it was probably a doubt as to its genuineness that led Gieseler to leave it out. The second decree, assert- ing that in the matter of a safe-conduct, faith need not be kept by princes with heretics, Hefele declares not to have been passed by the comicil, and to be found only in one co- dex. But it is given as authentic by Yan der Hardt, and although Hefele's view may, perhaps, be correct, that it was a programme or original proposition for which the first quoted decree was substituted — this decree being the one that actually passed in the general session — there is not the smallest ground for impugning the honesty and impartiality of Gieseler. The decree, in the most offensive form of it, asserts that the king had done what he lawfully could and what it behoved him to do, in the matter of the safe-con- duct, t The obnoxious clause affirms that Huss, by persist- * Nee sic promittentem, cum alias fecerit quod in ipso est, ex hoc in aliquo remansisse obligatum. f " Ex debito fecisse quod licuit, et quod decuit Regiam Majestatem." THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 119 ently attacking the orthodox faith, has put himself beyond the pale — reddiderit alienum — of every safe-conduct and privilege ; " nor is any faith or promise to be kept with him, by natural right, divine or human, to the prejudice of the Catholic Church." The doctrine which both decrees were framed to embody, was the same, namely, that a safe-con- duct from a secular prince gives to a heretic no protection against the lawful ecclesiastical tribunal. The decree which, according to Hef ele, was passed, simply f ormulizes this doc- trine. The other decree adds the reason that promises of protection to one who tm-ns out to be an obstinate heretic are ipso facto void. The theologians, from the first, en- deavored to indoctrinate Sigismund with the idea that his safe-conduct was limited and qualified by the absolute rights of the ecclesiastical tribunal to try and convict heretics; and there were not wanting those who put the doctrine in the repulsive form in which it appears in the draft of the second decree referred to by Gieseler. It is evident that there was complaint and loud complaint that Sigismund had broken his engagement ; otherwise, there would have been no occasion for such a decree, in either form. The decree which Hefele allows to have been passed, proves not less clearly than the other, that an accusation of bad faith had been brought against the emperor, which was founded on his failure to protect Huss from the penalty imposed by the council. Huss was condemned. The old quarrel in the university of Prague, which resulted in the desertion of the university by the whole body of German teachers and students, had some influence in increasing that spirit of hostility towards the Bohemian innovators, which inflamed the comicil ; but the influence of this circumstance was comparatively small. The philosophical quarrel between nominalism, which was now once more in the ascendancy at Paris and elsewhere, and realism, to which in common with Ansel m and the most orthodox of the schoolmen, Huss, like Wickliffe, ad- 120 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND liered, sharpened the antagonism of Gerson. But the vio- lent and mob-like deportment of the council, which con- trasts so unfavorably with the noble serenity and self-pos- session of their victim, w^as due to the vindictive hatred which was felt towards what they called heresy. This sentiment was sufficient to paralyze all wiser and more humane feel- ings, even in the hearts of good men — for such, we doubt not, were many of those who killed IIuss, and for whose forgiveness he, remembering the words of his dying Master, prayed. Say what one will of minor, incidental questions, like this of the intent of the safe-conduct, and bring for- ward what other examples one may of ecclesiastical tyranny and cruelty, it remains true that a frightful tragedy was en- acted at Constance, when a sincere, earnest preacher of the Gospel, inspired with heroic courage and Christian gentle- ness, and so elevated by faith and love that death had for him no terrors, was killed for his opinions by men who claimed to be acting in the name of Jesus and by his author- ity. Luther published four of the impressive letters which Iluss wrote while he was in prison and shortly before his death, "^ and in the preface Luther gives an interesting remi- niscence concerning himself. He says that when he was a young theologue at Erfurt, he took down fi'om the convent library a volume of IIuss's sermons. He was curious to see for what heresies it was that Huss had been killed ; but, as he read,' he was struck with astonishment that a man w^ho wrote in so excellent and Christian a way should have been burned to death for heresy. As he put back the volume, he thought to himself — not knowing then the particulars of the history — that Iluss must have become a heretic after writing these seraions. Bossuet wrote a book on the variations of Protestantism. Quite as copious and telling a book might be written on the * These letters are included in the edition of Huss's letters in prison, published by Micowek. THE COrNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 121 variations of Roman Catholicism; and, we may add, in snch a work the name of Bossuet himself would figure largely. Bellarmine, an eminent exponent of the Papal, anti- Gallican theology, and a great name in the estimation of all parties, resorts to different subterfuges in order to escape from the difficulty occasioned by the Constance decrees rela- tive to the power of a council.* He brings forward the ut- terly false position of Turrecremata, Campegius, and others, that the Constance propositions were meant to apply only to times of schism, when opinion is divided as to who is the lawful Pope. He denies, of course, that Martin Y. opposed the decrees in question, and makes the term conciliariter, or concilialiter^ mean " after the manner of other councils, the matter having been diligently examined ; " a totally differ- ent definition from either of those given by Hef ele, and one altogether unfounded. Equally unfounded is the assertion that when Martin approved of the decrees which had been adopted defids and concilialiter^ he referred solely to those against the Wickliffites and Hussites. Bellarmine denies that John XXIH. and Gregory IX. were deposed against their will, and affirms that, admitting that they were, the power to depose them does not involve the power to frame new dogmas. His whole treatment of this question is ac- cording to his usual method, which is to bring forward everything that can be said, with any degree of plausibility, against the antagonist, whether the considerations advanced are consistent with one another or not. He is master of the art of fencing ; a typical polemic. Bellarmine maintains the opinion that the Pope is absolutely superior to a council, and that he cannot be deposed.f In an earlier section of his work, :|: he takes up the question whether a heretical Pope can be deposed, and discusses it at length. He begins by stating the opinion of Pighius that a Pope cannot be a here- ♦ C. III., lib. ii., c. xix., p. 1222 seq. f C. IV., 1. ii., c. xxii. seq. % C. HI-, "-, c- xxx. 6 122 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND tic, and with this opinion he expresses his concurrence. " Yet," he adds, " because it is not certain, aind the common opinion is the ojyposite " — " communis opinio est in contra- rium " — " it will be worth while to see what answer can be given, provided it be allowed that the Pope can be a heretic." It seems, by Bellarmine's own concession, that it was the common opinion that a Pope could fall into heresy. Bellar- mine, with the rest of the advocates of the indefectibility of the Pope, is involved in extreme embarrassment by exam- ples like those of Liberius, who cast off Athanasius, signed the confession of the semi-Arians, and received them to his fellowship, and of Honorius, who espoused the cause of the Monothelites, and was anathematized as a heretic by the 6 th General Council, as well as by several of his own successors. The various evasions that have been sought out for the pur- pose of avoiding these unwelcome facts, form a curious chapter in polemical theology. Hefele, while he contends that Liberius was not a heretic in his real opinion on the Trinity, allows that his constancy so far broke down, that he purchased his return from exile by deserting the orthodox Athanasians, abjuring the term homoousion (and with it, of course, giving up the Nicene creed), and by joining hands with heretics. Xewman, in his edition of Athanasius, styles Liberius " a renegade." * He speaks of that time as one when " the Latins " were " committed to an anti-Catholic creed, the Pope a renegade, Ilosius fallen and dead, Atha- nasius wandering in the deserts, Arians in the sees of Chris- tendom," etc. That Liberius gave up the Nicene formulary and allied himself with the semi-Arians, is an im questiona- ble fact. Athanasius, Jerome, and Hilary are strong wit- nesses to his unfaithfulness. The instance of Honorius is still more perplexing to the curialists. He expressed his concurrence with the Monothelite, Sergius. All that Hefele can claim in behalf of him is, that he was a Dyothelite at * P. 127, N. c. THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 123 hearty but not competent to handle the question, and was therefore led to the avowal of opposite principles. That he took the Monothelite position in his letters to Sergius, will be clear to every unprejudiced person who is familiar with the points that were under discussion. * But whether he did or not, it is a fact that he w^as anathematized as a here- tic by the 6th General Council, in repeated declarations. It is a fact that this condemnation was approved by the Pope, as well as by the emperor. It is a fact, moreover, that Pope Leo II., who had succeeded Agatho, reiterated the anathema of the council. " Pariter anathemitizamus novi erroris inventores, id est, Theodorum Pharinitanum episco- pum, Cyrum Alexandrinum, Sergium, Pyn-hum, Paulum, Petrum, Constantinopolitanse ecclesise subsessores magis quam prsesules, necnon et Honorium, qui hanc apostolicam sedem non apostolicae traditionis doctrina lustravit, sed pro- fana proditione immaculatam fidem subvertere conatus est [or, according to the Greek, subverti permisit] et omnes, qui in suo errore defuncti sunt." In a letter to the Spanish bishops, and in another letter to King Erwig, Leo charged Honorius with nourishing the flames of heretical doctrine and defiling the spotless rule of apostolic tradition which he liad received from his predecessors. The TruUan S^Tiod (Concilium Quinisextum) repeated the condemnation of Honorius, which the 6th Council had passed. The Tth General Council did the same, and so did the 8th. Pope Hadrian II. (867-872) wrote: " although the anathema was pronounced upon Honorius after his death, yet it is to be understood that it was because he was charged with heresy, for which cause alone it is allowed to inferiors to resist the movements of tlieir superiors." This declaration of Ha- drian was read and approved in the 7th session of the 8th General Council. Hefele shows fully and conclusively that Honorius was condemned by the 6th General Council for * See, on this point, Neander, HE., 179, n, 3. 124: THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND heresy. He holds that the council was right in doing this, since they con Id not look into his heart, but must judge his declarations and avowals, which are reallj heretical. The foolish, because desperately futile, endeavor of Baronius to make out that the name of Honorius had been falsely in- serted in the proceedings of the 6th General Council, is com- pletely demolished in the third volume of Hefele, where proofs of the foregoing statements may be found. Popes and councils, then, have united in anathematizing Honorius as a patron and supporter of heresy. Did they believe that a Pope is indefectible ? When Popes acknowledged the 6th General Council and anathematized Honorius, did they hold the doctrine that a Pope cannot err from the faith ? When all other subterfuges fail, the defenders of Papal infallibility set up the plea that Honorius was uttering private opinions, not public definitions of doctrine ! Letters, then, from the Bishop of Pome to the Bishop of Constantinople on a doc- trinal question that is agitating the whole church, are desti- tute of authority ! Since writing the foregoing remarks upon the case of Honorius, we have received the pamphlet of M. Gratry,^ priest of the Oratoire and member of the French Academy, which relates to just this topic. M. Gratry is a distinguished writer upon philosophy and theology. We recollect that his able work on The Knowledge of God\ is preceded by a commendatory letter from Pius IX. In the little pamphlet before us, M. Gratry expresses his strong sense of the wrong that is done to history by the attempts to falsify the testimonies to the condemnation of Honorius for heresy. He shows that Honorius was condemned for heresy " by three oecumenical councils which were approved by the Popes, by two Koman councils, which were presided over *Mgr. L'Eveque D' Orleans et Mgr. L'Archeveque de Malines. Pre- miere lettre a Mgr. Dechamps. Par A. Gratry, Pretre de Toratoire, mem- bra de Pacademie Fran9aise. Paris : 1870. f La Connaissance de Diea. THE COtTNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 125 by Popes, and by the pontifical profession of faith in use for ages (plusieurs siecles). He exposes, with strong dis- pleasure, the absurd pretense that the 6th Council meant anything by hereby except that which the word imports. He shows that Leo II. anathematized Honorius for some- thing besides mere negligence. It was the neglect to ex- tinguish an error which grew out of sympathy with it, and a willingness that it should prevail. He reminds Arch- bishop Manning that he exposes himself to the penalty of excommunication threatened against all defenders of here- tics, when, in the face of the verdict of three general coun- cils, he assumes, in the exercise of his individual judgment, to pronounce the offending letters of Honorius to be free from heresy. But M. Gratry is especially earnest in his pro- test against the changes that have been introduced into the Koman breviary and the Liber Diurnus. In all the copies of the former, up to the commencement of the sixteenth century, the condemnation of Honorius is mentioned. The name of Honorius has now been stricken out. The L'lber Diurnus contains the ancient confession of faith of the Popes. This included the condemnation of Honorius, but the L%ber Diurnus^ containing the disagreeable passage, is now suppressed. These things, together with the evasions of the Papal apologists for Honorius, appear to M. Gratry to be examples of intolerable duplicity and mendacity. He inquires if the church and the Pope are to be helped by lies ! In the last number of the quarterly journal of Hef ele,"^ there is a brief Article by the learned editor on the Liher Diurnus. He affirms that it is perfectly clear that at the beginning of the eighth century it was held at Kome that a Pope might be subjected to trial and condemnation, at the hands of a general council, for heresy, and also for negli- gence in his office. Hefele does not explicitly say, either in this Article or in his History of Councils, whether or not * Quartal-schrift. 1869, 4. 126 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND Leo n. anathematized Honorius for heresy as well as for criminal negligence. He does not conceal, however, the fact that Leo 11. approved of the proceedings of the 6th Coimcil, and the fact that by the council Honorius was condemned for being himself a heretic. That Leo 11. and the other Popes meant, in their reiterated anathemas, to charge upon Honorius more than mere remissness, even real participation in heresy, is made evident by M. Gratry. The further plea that Honorius was not speaking ex cathedra^ when responding to interrogatories of the Eastern primates on a debated question of doctrine, is effectively disposed of in this little pamphlet. The Synod of the Vatican, which Pius IX. has convoked to rebuke the errors of the times, is a much less imposing assemblage than that which was gathered within the ancient walls of Constance. The realistic or practical spirit of the nineteenth century neither provides nor craves a pageant such as gratified the taste of the fifteenth. The mediaeval passion for symbols and shows has now, to a great extent, passed away. Everything in the present council betokens the altered condition of church and society. That the Pope should gather a council at Rome, summon it into his own court and camp, as it were ; also, that he should be suffered to mark out and manage its proceedings, with little, if any, audible remonstrance, indicates a great change, even since the days of the Tridentine Synod, in the temper of the bishops. The absence of the sovereigns and princes is another notable feature, indicating that the policy of the church is not coincident with that of the European states, and that church and state move in different orbits. The cabinets stand aloof, prepared, if it is thought expedient, to withstand and thwart the determinations of the council. The church, in turn, asks no advice from the civil rulers, and is conscious how little practical authority she exercises over their conduct and over the course of political affairs. On one of the two great points which absorbed the at- THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 127 tention of the fathers at Constance, there is a remarkable contrast between that body and the one now in session. The prerogatives of the Pope are again a topic of discus- sion ; but we find a powerful party in favor of declaring the personal infallibility of the Pope. If a general council could be brought to renounce the very prerogative which liberal Catholics have claimed for it, that would be a triumph for the papacy indeed. The monster which has 60 lone: lifted its head ao^ainst the chair of Peter would strangle itself. The principles and aims of the ultramon- tanist party are well set forth in the Pastoral Letter of Archbishop Manning, one of their most prominent leaders. He writes in vigorous English. It is almost a pleasure to read invectives against one's self, when they are uttered in the terse and polished style of this noted prelate. We find in his pamphlet a distinct expression of the ultramontanist theology, the very principles which Innocent III. proclaimed when the papacy was at the summit of its power. The Lord made Peter, and the successors of Peter, the fountain both of doctrine and of jurisdiction. Episcopal authority, therefore, is derived from the Pope and through him. He is the bishop of bishops, and the doctor of the universal church. We cannot praise Bossuet, "when his illustrious name is under a cloud." " Ultramontanism is Catholic Christianity." The object of greatest dislike to this repre- sentative of the Papal party is " nationalism." It is a Judaic notion that began to rise when the idea of Catholic unity began to decline. It was the rise of modem nation- alities, we are told, that caused the great Western schism and Protestantism after it. This is the Archbishop's protest against modern civilization, for modern civilization, as dis- tinguished from medieeval, is inseparable from the rise of nationalities to distinct and separate existence, and to a con- sciousness of separate rights and obligations. What is Man- ning's theory ? Does he think that the resistance to Boni- face YIII. by France was all wrong ? Does he approve of 128 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND the bulls of Boniface — derieis laicos and all? Does lie think that the European nations and their governments should have yielded humble submission to the lofty claims of the Papal See to a dominion over them ? Does he think that the Council of Constance committed a capital error in seek- ing to curtail the Papal office? Should that council, in- stead of voting by nations, have allowed John XXIII., with his host of Italian ecclesiastics, to govern the Assembly by their numerical force ? What would have been the condi- tion of the Koman Catholic Church if this had happened ? It would seem that the Archbishop is prepared to sanction the doctrine which the most ambitious of the Popes for- mulized and acted upon, that the state is to be subject to the church, and that civil governments are to receive law from the Pope. When one reads, in the light of history, the Archbishop's fine phrases about the union of the two jurisdictions, the church and state, and " the supreme direc- tion of the supernatural over the natural law," coupled as these phrases are vdth denunciations of the system that subordinates the church to the state, or makes the latter in- dependent of the former, and with a general disapproval of the " nationalism " which is the prevailing characteristic of the free civilization of the modern age, one is led to conclude that it is the realization of the old and fallen assumptions of Ilildebrand, Innocent III., and Boniface, that this entlm- siastic prelate hopes to behold. It is not strange that French ecclesiastics are affronted at the supercilious and slighting tone in which Manning speaks of Gallicanism. He affects to consider this a transient epi- sode in the course of the history of the Church of France ; a divergence from the orthodox faith, which never counted in its favor more than a fraction of the French clergy. And he identifies Gallicanism with the movement of Louis XIY. and the Declaration of 1682. The Archbishop misreads history. If we take Gallicanism, as Bossuet defines it, as consisting of the three principles of the independence of THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 129 kings, as to temporalities, of ecclesiastical control, the deri- vation of episcopal authority immediately from Christ, and the authority of councils, we shall find the roots of this type of Catholicism far back in French history. The pecu- liarities of the French Church, as a national church, claim- ing rights and privileges of its own, appear in full vigor in the days of Charlemagne. They were maintained by Louis IX. with persevering energy, against Papal encroachments. In the eventful period before the Protestant movement, when great but ineffectual efforts at reform were attempted, it was French doctors and statesmen who were forward and influential in the effort to restrict Papal prerogatives, as well as to remedy Papal abuses. Gallicanism is not at aU the transient and erratic phenomenon which Manning repre- sents it to be. In view of such declarations as are made in this pam- phlet of Manning, and in other publications of the ultra- montanist party, the question arises whether the council of the Vatican is to reaffirm the principles on which John Huss and Jerome of Prague were led to the stake. We should be glad to have explicit information on this subject. The question is not whether the form and degree of penalty to be inflicted for opinions which are judged heretical, may not be changed to suit modern ideas of the criminal code. It is to be presumed that neither Pope nor bishops would wish to have Protestants or other heretics burned at the stake. But the question is, whether the principle that church and state may rightfully combine, the one to adjudge the de- gree of their guilt, and the other to inflict the penalty upon persevering opposers of the Poman Catholic dogmas, is still held ? Ought men to be punished criminally by the church, or by the state executing the church's verdict, for hereti- cal opinions ? If we seek for an answer to this question in the Pope's Encyclical, we find that the old doctrine of per- secution appears to be approved and asserted, and the mod- em doctrine of toleration appears to be condemned and de- 130 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND nounced. The liberty of conscience, which is conceded by modem states, is set down among the damnable errors of the times. What does the Pope mean ? If he does not mean that civil governments ought to use force to punish persons who teach doctrines which are pronounced by him or by the Catholic Church heretical, what do these statements of the Encyclical signify ? The " bloody tenet of persecution " is not yet abandoned, but, it would seem, is again to be assert- ed in audacious opposition to the humane and Christian spirit of the age, and in obstinate derogation of the precepts of the founder of Christianity. The other point of the Pope's infallibility, in which, if the new dogma is carried, the Council of Constance will be flatly contradicted by the Vatican Synod, is one which an enemy of the Catholic Church might wish to see adopted. For ourselves, if the Roman Catholic Church is to act prac- tically upon this dogma, as it has done in regard to the Im- maculate Conception of the Virgin, we should prefer to have it defined and declared ; for then it would be more likely to awaken opposition. But we should prefer that the doctrine should be neither practically nor theoretically received. "We may desire that evil should be manifested, but not that evil should be done, in order that good may come. And we have no hostility to the Eoman Catholic Church except so far as we deem its doctrines erroneous. One of Manning's arguments iru favor of an authoritative proclamation of the infallibility of the Pope is derived from the need of such a doctrine. Protestants are told that the church is infallible, but they taunt Catholics with the fact of a division among themselves as to the place where infal- libility resides. Persons in quest of a safe harbor into which they can retreat from the agitations of doubt, are exhorted to cast themselves upon the authority of the church ; but when they comply with the counsel, they hear it said by some that the Pope's definitions of doctrine are not irreformable. We fear, however, that if the ultramontanists were to se- THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 131 cure their end, difficulties and perplexities would still re- main. What are the bounds and limits of this Papal infal- libility ? We are told by Perrone and the other Catholic theologians of this school, that his infallibility relates only to matters pertaining to faith and morals, and that on these matters he is unerring only when he speaks to the whole church in his character of universal bishop. The fine dis- tinctions which are made by these theologians remind us of a passage in the Rejpublic of Plato, where Socrates, in one of his paradoxical speeches, argues that no physician can err, since when he mistakes he is not in that mistake, or so far as he makes it, a physician ; and that no pilot can err, since, if he misleads a vessel, he is not in this act a pilot, and so of the various trades and professions. A thousand questions would immediately arise respecting the metes and bounds of this supernatural prerogative of the Pope, if it were to be authoritatively ascribed to him. Moreover, the historical perplexities in which the champions of the Ro- man Catholic system would be involved, already great enough to task them to the utmost, would be much enhanced through such a decree. The Eoman Catholic hierarchy assumes to stand, with priestly prerogatives, between the soul and God. This doc- trine of a priesthood in the Christian church, all consistent Protestants unite in rejecting. It is the first great corrup- tion of Christianity. It is grateful to notice occasional symptoms of a more true and spiritual conception of the Gospel and the church. Father Hyacinthe, in one of his sermons or addresses, remarks that he cannot look on these great Protestant communities, with all the fruits of religion which they exhibit, as disinherited of the Holy Ghost. The expression is a very striking one. It shows how the very warmth and honesty of Christian feeling may carry one be- yond the narrow bounds of sect. It was just this recogni- tion of the fi'uits or effects of the Spirit, that opened the eyes of the Apostle Peter, and broke down his traditional 132 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND prejudice. " Forasmuch," he said, " as God gave them the like gift as he did unto^us, who believed on the Lord Jesus Christ, what was I that I could withstand God ? " (Acts xi. IT.) A like argument brought all of the apostles to give the right hand of fellowship to Paul and Barnabas. They learned that the Spirit was not confined in the channel to which they had limited His operations. A new dispensa- tion had come, which was of a different character from the old. The revival of Judaism in the Koman Catholic Church obscured for ages an essential peculiarity of the Gospel and the Gospel dispensation. Such words as these of Father Hyacinthe, to which we have referred, indicate, in our judgment, the way in which the Koman Catholic error and all sectarian narrowness will ultimately disappear. Good men will be compelled to acknowledge that a Chris- tianity as genuine and as valuable, it may be, as their own, is found outside of the borders in which they had siTpposed it to be confined. I^OTE.* Mr. Gladstone's Discussion of the Vatican Decrees. — The Vatican Council defined the infallibility of the Pope, as follows : " That the Koman Pontiff, when he speaks ex cathedra^ that is, when in discharge of the office of pastor and doctor of all Christians, by virtue of his supreme apostolic authority, he defines a doctrine regarding faith or morals to be held by the Universal Church, by the divine assistance promised to him in blessed Peter, is possessed of that infallibility with which the divine Kedeemer willed that his church should be endowed for defining doctrine re- garding faith or morals ; and that, therefore, such definitions are irreformable of themselves, and not from consent of the church." (C. iv.) That is to say, when the Pope puts forth * This note is from contributions to the N. Y. Daily TimeSj of March 18, 1875, and The Christian Union, of April 7, 1875. THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 133 a doctrinal or ethical proposition, which he inj;ends that the whole church shall receive, he is infallible. As to the limit of the province within which he cannot err, it is a just infer- ence that he is the sole authoritative judge ; since the point whether any proposition is fairly included in the depart- ment of faith and morals, is itself a theological or ethical ques- tion. But the Vatican Coimcil also accorded to the Pope an equally unlimited jurisdiction as regards government and discipline. The definitions on the topic conclude thus : "If, then, any shall say that the Roman Pontiff has the ofiice merely of inspection or direction, and not full and supreme power over the universal church, not only in things which belong to faith and morals, but also in those which relate to the jurisdiction and government of the church spread throughout the world; or assert that he possesses merely the principal part, and not all the fulness of this supreme power ; or that this power which he enjoys is not ordinary and immediate, but over each and all the churches, and over each and all the pastors and the faithful — let him be anath- ema." (C. iii.) Mr. Gladstone's pamphlet on the Yatiean Decrees in their Relation to Civil Allegiance^ is written in a grave and elevated tone, and, from the character of its arguments, as well as from the position of 'the author, could not fail to make a profound impression. It is a powerful, and at the same time, a temperate arraignment of the Vatican defini- tions quoted above, as being subversive of the rights of the state and the obligations of the subject. The most noteworthy replies from the Poman Catholic side are those of Archbishop Manning, Dr. IS^ewman, and Monsignor Capel. Dr. l^ewman's tract is marked by his wonted felicity in composition and ingenuity in argument. All his con- troversial writings have the note of urbanity — a charm which cannot be said to belong in the same degree to the produc- tions of Manning. Mr. Gladstone's able and spirited rejoin- der to his critics bears the title of Vaticanism, The f ol- 134 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND lowing is a brief statement of the main points in this inter- esting debate. The chief allegation in Mr. Gladstone's first pamphlet Was that the Yatican decrees are incompatible with the duty of obedience to the civil authority. Incidentally his discus- sion involved an examination of the powers accorded to the papacy at present, as compared with the past, and of the bearing of the new ecclesiastical measures upon the liberty and personal responsibility of the individual who submits to them. 1. Mr. Gladstone is at issue with his opponents on the authority and meaning of the Syllabus. This document was issued from Rome in 1864. It purports to be a brief state- ment of the errors which the present Pope had condemned in his various allocutions, and other letters and speeches. Attached to each error in the list is a reference to the par- ticular paper in which the more full and specific condemna- tion may be found. The Syllabus was sent, at the direction of the Pope, by Antonelli, to all bishops, and the reason given for this proceeding in the accompanying letter was that these might not have seen all of the documents of which the Syllabus is an abridgment. Mr. Gladstone considered the Syllabus an ex cathedra manifesto, and as such claiming to be infallible. This was a natural view, and one taken heretofore by many Catholic theologians. But this construc- tion of the Syllabus Dr. Newman denies. He ventures to attribute to it no more authority than pertained to the sev- eral papers that gave rise to it. Dr. Fessler, the late Secre- tary-General of the Yatican Council, cautiously takes a simi- lar ground. Is this judgment an afterthought, occasioned^ by the unpopularity of the Syllabus, and the inconveniences arising from the position that all of its propositions are in- fallible and of divine authority % So Mr. Gladstone evi- dently thinks. Certainly it is a great advantage to be able to say of Papal utterances, ancient or recent, that they are not ex cathedra y especially when the Pope himself is the fi- THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 135 nal judge on the question. It is surely strange to find him who claims to be the Yiear of Christ sending a series of doctrinal propositions to every bishop in every quarter of the globe — propositions which he may himself hereafter recall and deny. That is to be considered ex cathedra teaching, ac- cording to the Vatican Council, when, " in discharge of the office of pastor and doctor of all Christians by virtue of his supreme apostolic authority, he (the Pontiff) defines a doc- trine regarding faith or morals to be held by the universal church." What belongs " to faith and morals " it is for the Pope to judge. Under the circumstances, it was certainly pardonable for Mr. Gladstone to regard the Syllabus as the utterance of the infallible Oracle. 2. There is a difference between Mr. Gladstone and his antagonists conceming the sense of the Syllabus. Both Dr. Xewman and Archbishop Manning labor to pare away the offensive parts of the Syllabus, and to reduce its denuncia- tions to a series of harmless commonplaces. For example, the rejection of the liberty of speech and of the press is con- verted into a condemnation of blasphemous, seditious, and obscene publications, which, it is asserted, all governments proscribe. Mr. Gladstone's answer to this interpretation is quite destructive. It is hardly probable that the Pope would take pains to put among the errors of the times a doctrine which nobody holds. Moreover, it happens that Pius IX., as governor of his own kingdom, illustrated his idea of the error in question, and that he denounced the Austrian laws on this subject, which no Protestant would consider to be over-liberal. Mr. Gladstone's indignation at this and other like attempts to rob the propositions of the Syllabus of their real intent and plain import is not mis- placed. 3. Another point in the contest is the scope of the Vatican definition which gives to the Roman Pontiff a " power of jurisdiction" such as imposes upon his subjects " subordina- tion and true obedience " not only in matters belonging to 136 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND faith and morals, but also " in those that appertain to the discipline and government of the church throughout the world." This vast prerogative of " regimen and discipline " makes the Pontiff, according to Mr. Gladstone, an absolute monarch. Disobedience to his mandates, whatever they may be, carries with it the perdition of the soul. In reply. Dr. IsTewman affirms that " regimen and discipline " refer to the rites of worship an(J the internal affairs of the church. The supremacy of the Pope under this head is not absolute, or exercised with infallible authority, as Mr. Gladstone imag- ines. On the contrary, it is conceivable that the Pope should misjudge, or otherwise err, in his prescriptions to individu- als, and with respect to concrete cases. Moreover, it is a mistake of Mr. Gladstone — so Dr. Newman asserts — to hold that every act of disobedience to the Pope is accounted a mortal sin. The phraseology of the Decree is as follows : " This is the teaching of Catholic truth (Catholicae veritatis doctrina), from which no one can deviate without loss of faith and of salvation." It is the rejection of the doctrine that the Pope is the supreme governor, not the single act of disobedience, against which the penalty is set. Dr. New- man is here technically right. But Mr. Gladstone perti- nently suggests that the Vatican creed says nothing about any exceptions to the duty of obedience. That such excep- tions may arise we can believe only on Dr. Newman's author- ity ; and this admission of so moderate and liberal a dispu- tant is liable at any time to be condemned at Rome ; in which case. Dr. Newman, on his own principles, would have to renounce his concession. 4. The deposing power. Mr. Gladstone urges that the assumed right of the Pope to excommunicate and depose princes has never been given up. To this his opponents answer that the moral conditions of the exercise of this pre- rogative are absent, and that to exert it would, therefore, be wrong. Among these moral conditions. Dr. Newman, ex- plicitly, and Dr. Manning, more cautiously, include the con- THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 137 sent of nations. They try to make it out that the European nations in former ages constituted the Pope an arbiter in their affairs, domestic and international. From this view of history Mr. Gladstone dissents. He considers it a very ex- aggerated statement. The Papal government, in this par- ticular, always encountered sharp resistance as a usurpation. Besides, Queen Elizabeth was deposed, she being a Protes- tant. The lame defence of Archbishop Manning is that she was baptized a Catholic, which is not even true in fact. Moreover, this lofty prerogative is not renounced by the PontifP, or by his disciples for him. It is only, to use Mons. Capel's phrase, "in abeyance." It maybe revived at any time. Who can say that in the event of a war between ul- tramontanism and Germany, the Pope might not resort to the measure of absolving the Poman Catholic subjects of the emperor from their allegiance to him ? The Pope has claimed a dejure right to govern Protestants — Lutherans — as being baptized persons. There is npthing in the creed to forbid him to take the course in relation to William which his predecessor, Pius Y., took towards Queen Elizabeth. As to the question whether the power of the Pope over kings and princes is direct or indirect, Mr. Gladstone justly pronoimces the distinction unimportant. Archbishop Man- ning holds that the Pope has not literally a temporal power in this relation, but that he can only reach sovereigns and governments indirectly, by his spiritual authority. But so long as he is competent to forbid rulers to make or execute laws which he does not approve ; so long as he claims the right to annul all such legislation, and to excommunicate its authors, as well as to prohibit their subjects from obeying them, what boots it whether this tremendous authority is called direct or indirect, spiritual or temporal ? 5. The use of force for the suppression of heresy. Even Dr. Manning — ^we must style him " Cardinal Manning " now — resents the imputation to the Pope and the church of a disposition to make use of physical coercion, as in the days 138 THE COUNCIL OF CONSTANCE AND of rack and fagot. Yet he does not disavow the right to do so. He does not condemn the employment of these fierce weapons in past ages. He founds his disinclination on the altered circumstances of the times, and not on any deep principle of right. We have no disposition to speak harshly of the Roman Catholic Church or of its prominent apologists. We must say, however, that it is impossible for an educated Protes- tant to read their defences, and note their fine distinctions and carefully-guarded concessions, and not feel that they are the champions of a flexible, evasive, slippery system, which is this to-day and that to-morrow, but which at all times pursues, with an unrelenting eye, an end which can be secured only by robbing men, just as Mr. Gladstone maintains, not only of their mental and moral liberty, but of their outward and political liberty as well. Dr. J^ewman compares the absolute control of the Pope to the authority exercised by a physician ; as if the subjection of a patient to his medical adviser were analogous to that of a subject of the Pope to the ruler at Pome. The cases might be analogous if the patient did not select his physician, and were not at liberty to dismiss him and take another whenever he chooses to do so. 6. Mr. Gladstone alleges against the Papal Church of to- day " a breach with history," in two particulars. One of these has reference to the pledges of the Poman Catholic clergy of Great Britain, on the faith of which the Emanci- pation Act and other liberal measures were conceded by the Parliament of Great Britain. It was then declared by the representatives of the Catholic Church that they did not hold the Pope to be infallible, and admitted no right on his part to interfere, " directly or indirectly," w^ith the inde- pendence, sovereignty, laws, constitution, or government of the United Kingdom. H the Vatican decrees are accepted, says Mr. Gladstone, there is a retreat from these solemn en- gagements, a breach with history which is closely akin to a breach of faith. THE COUNCIL OF THE VATICAN. 139 Again, whatever opinion may have been cherished by in- dividuals or schools of opinion in the past in favor of ponti- fical infallibility, Gallicanism has been, fi'om the days of the Council of Constance — not to speak of earlier times — a per- mitted and a powerful type of Catholicism. But Gallican- ism is now put under the ban. Mr. Gladstone exposes the misrepresentation of Manning, who, strangely enough, makes Gallicanism have its origin in 1682, in the contest of Louis XIY. with the papacy. 7. In answer to one of the main propositions of Arch- bishop Manning, that Catholics do not differ from Protes- tants on this matter of civil loyalty, since both acknowledge the higher law of conscience, and the possible occurrence of cases where allegiance to the moral law clashes with obedi- ence to the civil magistrate, Mr. Gladstone points out a marked and obvious distinction. The Protestant makes his own conscience supreme ; he does not subject his conscience to the conscience and will of another, and that other a for- eign potentate. The state is not brought into peril by the doctrine of the authority of conscience, provided the indi- vidual acts for himself, but the state is endangered when a body of citizens substitute for their own consciences the will of a foreign ecclesiastic ; and this peril is not diminished by the circumstance that in making this surrender they suppose themselves to be impelled by the sense of right. The practi- cal fact is that there is erected an hrvperium in iirvperio of a formidable kind. Wliat is the significance of this controversy ? It indicates that the ecclesiastical conflict which disturbs the continent has crossed the channel and reached England. TJltramontanism, with its new dogma of Papal infallibility, with its rigid tenets respecting civil marriage and secular education, and its revived claim on behalf of the Pope to dehort the subjects of Chris- tian states from their obedience to obnoxious laws, inevita- bly clashes with the enlightened sentiment and established policy of the European nations. TJltramontanism is a reac- 140 THE COUNCILS OF CONSTANCE AND THE VATICAN. tionarj movement, an endeavor to arrest the progress of society in tlie direction of freedom and laical independence, and to bring mankind once more under the dominion of the priesthood. This controversy has political bearings of much consequence. The ultramontanes do not give up the hope of breaking up the kingdom of Italy and of restoring his old principality to the Pope. In the event of an armed conflict on this point, they would hope to rally to their cause the sympathies of the whole Roman Catholic population of Europe. Mr. Gladstone has not only sounded a note of alarm in Protestant ears, but he has forewarned his Roman Catholic countrymen of the possible use to which the Jesuit leaders may eventually wish to put them. THE POPE AND HOW HE IS CHOSEN. 141 THE OFFICE OF THE POPE AND HOW HE IS CHOSEN. * The papacy has been stripped of the splendid preroga- tives which inhered in it in the middle ages, when Western Europe constituted a great and undivided ecclesiastical com- monwealth which acknowledged the Pope as its head ; when such was the force of his authority that his Interdict could suspend all the public services of religion in a nation, silenc- ing the bells upon the tower of every church and convent, and compelling the disconsolate to bury their dead without the soothing voice of prayer ; when the injunctions of the Sovereign Pontiff were heard with awe to the farthest limit of Christendom ; when monarchs were dethroned and kingdoms given away at his bidding. But, although the power of the Pope as regards political society is in abeyance, and notwithstanding the fact that he has endured the bitter humiliation of seeing his temporal principality wrested from him, and a secular ruler enthroned at his side in the Holy City itself, the spiritual authority of the Pope over many millions of devoted subjects stiU remains intact, and has even been augmented within the present generation. A vast multitude of Christians still look up to him as the guide of then' consciences, and the highest earthly authority in the regulation of their conduct. His office is even now the most august on earth. Nor is there any prospect that it will soon pass out of being. As far as external perils are concerned, it is in less danger than it was fourteen hundred years ago, * Published in the If. Y. Examiner and Chronicle, January, 1878. 'c^FTTci 142 THE OFFICE OF THE POPE when Leo the Great went forth from Rome to the camp of Attila, and saved the city from pillage ; or twelve hundred years ago, when Gregory III. and his successors besought the help of the Franks against the Lombard invaders, who had seized on the northern and central portions of Italy ; or eight hundred years ago, when Hildebrand was driven out of Rome by the troops of the Emperor Henry lY., and died in exile ; or three hundred and fifty years ago, when Clem- ent YII. was shut up in the Castle of St. Angelo by a Lutheran army under Roman Catholic leaders ; or even sixty-five years ago, when Pius YII. was the prisoner of ]^apoleon, and when the French Revolution had apparently well-nigh dispelled all reverence for the papacy in the rul- ing classes of the nations nominally Catholic. The bark of St. Peter, the Pontiffs have been accustomed to assert, may be tossed upon the waves, but it does not go under ; and after a time the Master awakes, and the waves are stilled. The great change which the papacy has undergone in modem times is in the loss of its influence in the political sphere. The growth of religious skepticism in Italy and France has made, to be sure, a serious inroad upon the spiritual domin- ion of the Pontifical See. The separation of the Teutonic nations at the Reformation was a staggering blow, yet it did not prove a fatal blow, to the Roman hierarchical suprem- acy. Pope is derived iroviipapa (in the Greek Tlanra^), signify- ing ^(a^zJA^r. As late as the fifth century, in the Western churches, all bishops were styled Papce. Sidonius, who was made bishop of Clermont in 472, calls the bishops of Rheinis, Aries, Lyons and other places by this title. Jer- ome, in his Epistle to Pammachius, styles Epiphanius, Bishop of Constantia in Cyprus, Pojpe / and this is not a solitary example, in his writings, of the same usage. The designa- tion came to be appropriated, in the Eastern church, to pa- triarchs and abbots, ecclesiastics of high rank. In the West, Pope gradually became the specific and exclusive ap- AND HOW HE IS CHOSEN. 143 pellation of the Bishops of Rome, by a change in language similar to that which had taken place in the use of the terms " patriarch " and " bishop ; " for, as is well known, " bish- op " and " presbyter," in the New Testament, are used in- discriminately for the same class of church officers. The nature of the Papal office is of more consequence than the name. The Roman Catholics hold that the Bishop of Rome is ex officio the inheritor of the primacy of St. Peter ; and as such, is the representative or vicar of Christ, the visible head of the visible church, the spiritual or in- visible head of which is Christ himself. As primate, the Pope is the high priest, the regent, and the doctor, or teacher, of the church Catholic, and of all persons, lay and ecclesiastical, of whatever rank, who are embraced in it. First, it is maintained that Christ gave to Peter this supreme pastoral superintendence and control over all his brethren. The passages of Scripture relied upon to sustain this propo- sition are chiefly these : " Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church " (Matt. 16 : 18) ; " I have prayed for thee, that thy faith, fail not : and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren " (Luke 22 : 32) ; and " Feed my sheep " — the injunction thrice repeated (John 21 : 15 seq.). Secondly, it is held that, Peter being the founder and first bishop of the Church of Rome — this being properly his See Apostolic — the primacy, by a divine ordinance, descends in the line of the incumbents of this bishopric. The preroga- tives of Peter, which have been enumerated above, are transmitted to the persons duly elected to the episcopal office in the Roman Church. One of the gravest of the con- troverted questions in the .past has been whether other bishops held the episcopal office directly from Christ or mediately through the Pope, as His vicar. It is the common view that none of them is the successor of any particular apostle. This distinction belongs exclusively to the Bishop of Rome, because the primacy devolves on him. But do they, or do they not receive the episcopate directly from 144 THE OFFICE OF THE POPE Christ? Those disposed to exalt the papacy have main- tained that in the Pope is centred and included apostolic and episcopal authority, which is said to flow out from him to other bishops. But whatever diversity may have existed on this point, the doctrine has prevailed that the Pope is the centre of sacerdotal and ecclesiastical unity, so that without him the church is dissolved, and hence fellowship with him on the part of all Christian priests and people is indispensa- ble. The most liberal Gallicans, as Gerson and D'Ailly, in the fifteenth century, the era of the Reforming Councils, dared not dispense with a Pope, or leave the office vacant. The church without a Pope was considered a body without a head. Another of the great controverted questions of the past has been whether an oecumenical council is an authority paramount to the Pope, and whether its enunciations of doc- trine are authoritative. That such is the fact was the theory of the Gallicans, and this general view is assumed and affirmed by the Councils of Basle and Constance. In former times, the middle and moderate theory has had most cur- rency, which makes the concurrence of council and Pope necessary to the validity of a dogmatic definition. This was the doctrine of Hefele, and of most of the Catholic theolo- gians of Germany down to a recent date. The ultramon- tane tendencies of the day have been potent enough, under the auspices of the present Pontiff, to crush this opinion, and the Vatican Council has pronounced for the infallibility of the Pope, in the sense that no conciliar ratification of his dogmatic decrees is requisite. The sense of the Vatican de- finition, however, is often misunderstood and misstated. Of course, it is not meant that the Popes are impeccable. The Pope himself has a confessor, like the humblest of his flock. Poman Catholic writers do not hesitate to admit that there have been wicked Popes ; and Dante is far from being alone in remanding some of them to perdition. Judas be- trayed his Master, they say, and Peter denied him ; how AND HOW HE IS CHOSEN. 145 can we expect that the successors of the apostles should be better than the apostles themselves ? Prophets in the Old Testament were sometunes cowardly and unfaithful. The Old Testament church passed through periods of darkness and corruption ; why not the church of the New Covenant ? If the Vatican definition does not mean that the Popes are ex officio delivered from the moral infirmities of human nature, no more does it signify that all of their doctrinal ut- terances are necessarily void of error. But this is the im- port of the dogma, that the Pope, speaking ex cathedra^ or addressing the entire church upon any topic of religion or ethics, is preserved supematurally from error. Speaking in this character, not to an individual or a class alone, but to the whole body of the faithful — ^not upon any subject, as politics, or philology, or medicine — ^but upon theological and ethical doctrine, he is infallible. This is, of course, a mo- mentous dogma, and a very grave addition to the articles of belief which loyal Catholics, on pain of perdition, are obliged to accept. That the church cannot err was the old belief. The Holy Spirit, it was held, abides perpetually in the visible body, over which the Latin hierarchy presides ; and, therefore, when the church collectively speaks, its utter- ances are free from error. The new dogma substitutes for the collected episcopate, with the Pope at their head, the Pope alone, who is thus declared to be the organ of the church and of the Spirit. Besides the teaching function of the Pope, he is endued with supreme legislative and judicial powers in the church. No ecclesiastic can be appointed against his will, and he can depose every ecclesiastic, from the highest to the lowest, by his bare authority. The promise of obedience to him is solemnly made by all ecclesiastics when they enter upon their offices. Protestants deny that the texts of Scripture to which we have referred are correctly interpreted by Roman Catholics. It is maintained by Protestants that the rock on which the 7 146 THE OFFICE OF THE POPE church was founded was not Peter personally, but Peter as confessing Christ, or the confession made by the fervent apostle. They point to the fact that the authority to remit sins was not conferred on Peter to the exclusion of the other disciples (Matt. 18 : 18), and that Christ breathed on the whole company of apostles, imparting to one as much as to an- other the gift of the Holy Ghost (John 20 : 22). They find no proof that, as a matter of fact, Peter governed the other apostles or the church, or that he exercised any more actual authority than the other apostles. They deny that he was bishop of the Roman Church. They deny that there is any evidence that his primacy, supposing that such a dis- tinction belonged to him, was handed down to subsequent bishops of that church. His precedence, if he had any, died with him. They deny, likewise, that the bishops of Rome in the first three centuries claimed for themselves, or exerted, the prerogatives which are ascribed by the Roman Catholic theory to Peter and to his successors. The historical difficulty here suggested has been met in two ways by Romish apologists. The more extreme school endeavor to achieve the very difficult task of proving that the early bishops of Rome were Popes in the later sense, and were acknowledged as such by the church. More plausible is the ground taken by theologians like De Mais- tre and Mohler, who bring to their aid the theory of devel- opment. The papacy, they say, was founded by Christ, but it existed at first, like so many other features of Chris- tian polity, doctrine, and life, in the germ. The idea — the divine idea — ^was gradually realized. The papacy grew up, but its growth was legitimate. It is the natural, normal, in- tended outcome of the seed planted by the hand of Christ. The precedence of Peter among the apostles, and the pre- cedence of Rome among cities and communities, were the divine preparations for an institution the foundations of which rest on the express ordinances of Christ, although the edifice arose only by degrees, and in the course of cen- AND HOW HE IS CHOSEN. 147 tiiries, to the full symmetry and splendor of its proportions. In answer to this hypothesis, Protestants have to say, first, that it allows that the papacy has no perfectly distinct war- rant in tlie JS^ew Testament, and had no concrete existence in the primitive church ; and secondly, that the papacy arose historically through the introduction of the doctrine of the mediatorial priesthood, a doctrine which has no right- ful place in the Christian dispensation, but was a germ of development borrowed from Judaism. In the first centuries, the Bishop of Rome was chosen, like bishops elsewhere, by the suffrages of the clergy and laity of the church at Rome, with the cooperation of the neighbor- ing bishops ; and the traces of this primitive arrangement are even now not wholly obliterated. It is sometimes made a subject of complaint that the primate of the whole church should be created mainly by Italians ; but this objection, like various other objections, implies an ignorance or forget- fulness of the fact that it is as chief pastor of the Church of Rome that the Pope holds his dignity and prerogatives. It belongs to the Roman Church to create its own pastor. Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage, gives some particulars respect- ing the choice of Cornelius (a.d. 251) to the Roman bish- opric. He says (Ep. 55) that Cornelius was made bishop " by the judgment of God and of his Christ" — that is, by a divine call — " by the testimony of almost all the clergy, by the suffrage of the people who were then present, and by the assembly of ancient priests and of good men." The impor- tance of the episcopal office in the metropolis led the Roman emperors to intermeddle in the selection of the person to fill it. This was done, also, to some extent, by the Gothic king, Theodoric (a.d. 493-526). After the do^mfall of the East Gothic kingdom in Italy, the Greek emperors (a.d. 553-754) were still more disposed to put checks upon the unrestrained liberty of the Romans to make their own bishop. The ratification of the emperor at Constantinople, 148 THE OFFICE OF THE POPE either directly given, or through his viceroy, the Exarch at Ravenna, was necessary to the validity of an election. Jus- tinian (a.d. 553-565) was as arbitrary in his treatment of the Eoman See, as in dealing with the Eastern patriarchs and bishops who were under the shadow of his throne. After the rescue of the papacy from the threatened supre- macy of the Lombards, by Charlemagne (a.d. 774), this monarch and his successors exercised the same sort of as- cendancy over the Pope that they were accustomed to exer- cise over the Frank bishops. The consent of the Frank ru- lers was requisite before a Pope-elect could begin to exercise his functions. In the anarchy that followed the ruin of Charlemagne's empire, a period extending to the middle of the eleventh century, the papacy succeeded, to be sure, in liberating itself, for a long time, from this exterior control, but only to become a prey to violent domestic factions, which brought the papacy down to a lower depth of moral degradation than it has ever reached before or since. From this condition of helplessness and infamy, relieved only for brief intervals by the German Othos, it was delivered by the emperor, Henry III., who entered Italy at the head of an army, and at the Synod of Sutri, in 1046, deposed the rival incumbents of the sacred office, and himself elevated three German bishops in succession to the Papal dignity. The Hildebrandian or refonning party, as long as the Italian factions were raging, were glad to avail themselves of im- perial help ; but they lost no time in seizing the first oppor- tunity that presented itself to shake off transalpine and secu- lar interference and control in the great matter of filling the chair of St. Peter. After the death of Henry III., and when Henry TV. was a child, Pope Nicholas II. (in 1059), by a decree, devolved the prerogative of electing the Pope upon the cardinals. In the first centuries the term cardinal (from cardo, a hinge) might be applied to civil officers holding permanent stations under the Poman government. It was applied, AND HOW HE IS CHOSEN. 149 also, to ecclesiastics having a permanent connection with a church. The clergy of the Roman churches, which all stand in close connection with the Lateran, the mother of churches, were termed cardinals. The presbyters having charge of the parishes — at first twenty-five, then twenty-eight in num- ber — into which Rome was divided, and the deacons to whose care the poor in the ecclesiastical districts of the city — at first seven, then fourteen in number — were committed, were "cardinals" of the Lateran Church. In the eighth century, under Pope Stephen lY., the seven — now six — suburbicarian bishops, or bishops in the ancient diocese of Rome, were added to this body of priests and deacons. The number of the college of cardinals, however, has varied from time to time. At one time, in the thirteenth century, it sank to seven. Pope Sixtus Y., in 1586, fiji:ed the number at seventy, corresponding to the seventy elders of Israel. The college, however, is seldom full. It will thus be seen that the College of Cardinals, whether they actually reside at Rome or not, by whom the Pope is elected, are clergy of the Roman Church. They comprise the suffragan bishops of the vicinity, with presbyters and deacons of the Church of Rome ; and so are divided into three classes, cardinal bishops, cardinal priests, and cardinal deacons. The fifty cardinal priests are designated by the names of fifty churches in Rome ; the fourteen cardinal deacons, by the fourteen deaconries. The cardinal bishops are of highest rank ; the cardinal priests and deacons are on a level ; but all are practically equal as regards the choice of a Pope. The constant policy of the Popes has been to keep off outside interference, and especially to defend this electoral college from the undue influence or coercion of secular gov- ernments. They have sought to make its action independ- ent and final. Nicholas II., in the decree to which we have referred, and which forms an epoch in the history of the electoral system, recognized in very indefinite terms the im- 150 THE OFFICE OF THE POPE perial pretensions. The cardinals — the cardinal bishops at that time taking precedence — were to take the initiative, and choose the Pope ; the next step was some indefinite consul- tation with the emperor ; while " applause " of a choice al- ready concluded was the only prerogative left to the people of Rome. The Pope was to be selected from " the bosom of the Roman Church," if it contained a fit person for the place. Gregory XY., in 1621, laid down the rules for the organization of the conclave, and for its proceedings, which, with some modifications, have continued in force until the present time. The cardinals are appointed by the Pope. He is not obliged, however, to divulge the names of persons raised to this rank, at the time when they are appointed. When the names are temporarily withheld they are styled cardinals in petto, i. e., inpectore, or in the breast. That is to say, they are hidden in the Pope's breast. Eligibleness to the cardin- alate is attached to no definite age. In certain periods, as is well known, by an abuse of the power of appointment, persons in extreme youth have been raised to this office. Leo X. was made cardinal at the age of fourteen, and in- vested with the purple three years later. Leo X. made Prince Alfred, of Portugal, cardinal when he was seven years old, stipulating, however, that he should not assume the dignity until seven years later. The qualifications ne- cessary in a cardinal are those requisite in a bishop. It is required that the candidate shall be a legitimate son. He must have been in orders for at least a year. He must have neither children nor grandchildren, and he must have no relative within the second degree of canonical kinship in the college before him. The cardinal-elect goes to the Vati- can, and according to an elaborate form, receives the purple cap. This may be sent to a cardinal residing abroad. At a public session of the whole body, the new member is cere- moniously received, and clothed with the red hat. Other cm-ious forms, as that of closing and opening the mouth of AND HOW HE IS CHOSEN. 151 the cardinal-elect bj the Pope, attend his inauguration, to his new dignity. The cardinals are princes, as well as ecclesiastics, since the right of electing the Pontiff vests in them. They are a kind of council, the business of the Papal administration being mainly distributed among them. The various congregations at Rome are composed of them, or are under their presiden- cy. But their principal distinction lies in the prerogative which belongs to them, of choosing the Pope, who, it is sup- posed, must be one of their own number. What a departure is all this from the primitive method of electing a pastor ! Clement of Pome, in his Epistle to the Corinthians, which was written in a.d. 96 or 9Y, says that the apostles put officers in the churches, and provided that their places, on becoming vacant, should be filled by approved men. The body of church members, in the case of a vacancy, decided who should be appointed, the remain- ing pastors giving their voice, but the power of acceptance and of veto being always exercised by the body of the con- gregation. This was the custom at Pome, as in other chm-ches. In the room of this free action of the body of church-members, we have substituted a corporation of eccle- siastics, appointed by the chief pastor of the Poman Church, and filling his place with no action on the part of the Chris- tian laymen of Pome, except what is involved in shouting for the individual whose election by the conclave of car- dinals is announced to them. The institution known as the conclave originated in a tur- bulent period of the middle ages, when it was thought ex- pedient, in repeated instances, to catch the cardinals and shut them up, in order that they might be compelled to fill a vacancy in the Papal office. Clement lY. died in 1269, at Yiterbo. The strife between the French and the Italian factions among the cardinals prevented the choice of a suc- cessor for two years and nine months, the longest interreg- 152 THE OFFICE OF THE POPE num that has existed in the whole history of the papacy. During this interval, the citizens of Yiterbo, under the town captain, Kanieri Gatti, not only imprisoned the cardinals in a palace, but resorted to the bold expedient of unroofing the edifice and leaving their eminences to the mercy of the ele- ments, besides diminishing their supplies of food. It was not, however, until a year after this irreverent proceeding that an election was made. Gregory X., who was chosen, was moved, in consequence of these disorders, at the Gen- eral Council at Lyons, held in 1274, to establish fixed regula- tions for the proceedings in the case of the death of a Pope ; and he may be considered the founder of the conclave. His rules have been in various particulars modified by his successors. They are subject to modification at the will of the Pontiffs. At the same time, they still form the basis of the ecclesiastical law on the subject. When the Pope dies, the cardinals wait for ten days only for the absent members of their body to appear. 'No notifi- cations are sent out to absentees. They must come, if they come at all, of their own motion. At the end of this time, the cardinals are to enter into conclave in the palace where the Pope died. Each cardinal may now have two attend- ants, who are lodged in two of the three small sleeping apart- ments which, together with another little room, constitute his " cell." The old restrictions as to the supply of food are very much mitigated ; and communication with persons from outside is not absolutely prohibited, except during the time of actual voting, though such communication is not al- lowed to be private. No other business is permitted in the conclave except what pertains to the election of a Pope, un- less measures have to be taken to defend his territory. Of course, this last proviso is now rendered obsolete. A vote of two-thirds is requisite for an election. Cardinals under ecclesiastical censure, or even under excommunication, can- not be excluded from taking part in the assembly. All bargains and prior agreements are solemnly prohibited ; and AND HOW HE IS CHOSEN. 153 the electors are bound by stringent oaths to the olDservance of all the regulations which the church has prescribed for the performance of their function. On the death of a Pope, the Cardinal Camerlingo (Cham- berlain) is informed of it at once. He proceeds to the room where the dead Pope lies, and strikes his forehead thrice with a little hammer, addressing him, at the same time, by his original name. Receiving no reply, he takes from his finger " the ring of the fisherman," and breaks it. On the tenth day, the cardinals enter into conclave in the chambers which have been set apart for this purpose in the Vatican — if the Pope dies in Rome — and which, in the interv^al, have been walled in, the doors and the windows, with the excep- tion of a narrow space at the top for the admission of light, being closed up with brick and mortar. Within the con- clave everything takes place by rule, under ofiicial supervi- sion. The Pope may be chosen in either of three ways. First, he may be elected by acclamation — also called " in- spiration," or " adoration " — when all the cardinals, gath- ered at the appointed time and place, with one voice desig- nate some individual for this office. Such a mode of elec- tion is of very rare occurrence. Secondly, he may be chosen by direct vote. In this case, as was said above, a candidate must have the suffrages of two-thirds of those who participate in the election. Each cardinal must swear that his ballot is cast for the one whom he deems most fit for the office. The greatest precautions are taken to prevent fraud. The ballot is secret ; the number and motto of each cardinal, however, being recorded on the ballot, which is folded and sealed so that this part of it is not seen, unless it becomes necessary to ascertain by whom the vote was cast. In case no candidate receives two-thirds of the ballots cast, any one who has received a single vote may, nevertheless, be chosen, if a sufficient number who have voted for other persons " accede," to constitute the two-thirds. This is a choice by " accession," and is not imfrequent. Thirdly, a Pope may 164 THE OFFICE OF THE POPE be chosen by compromise. When it is found that the requi- site number of votes cannot be obtained by any one — in other words, when there is a" dead-lock" in the conclave — the business of selection may be delegated to a committee of the cardinals, by whose decision the rest are bound to abide. In this way, the impossibility of an agreement among the electors, and the calamities of a long interregnum have, in noted instances, been avoided. Formerly, each of the great Catholic powers have had the privilege of exercising the " veto " upon any obnoxious can- didate for the papacy. But this could be used but once during the process of filling a vacancy by the conclave, and if used at all, was necessarily exerted before the decisive vote had been taken. In the present relation of the papacy to the Catholic powers, it is understood that the exercise of the veto, which is not considered by the Papal canonists as a right, will not be conceded. When the choice has been made, a window is opened, and the announcement of the result of the election is made to the throng of people without. The coronation of the Pope, who usually receives the tiara from the oldest cardinal dea- con, takes place on the next Sunday or next festal day after his election. If a deacon, he must first be elevated to the priesthood and the episcopate. During the procession in St. Peter's, as a part of the coronation ceremonies, a little tow is burned, to remind the Pontiff elect of the transitoriness of worldly glory. The enthronement follows the coronation. The Pope assumes another name on his induction into ofiice. The first to do this was Octavianus, in a.d. 956, who adopted the name of John XII. It has been suggested by Roman CathoKc writers even, that his motive was to cover up, as far as might be, the disgrace which his sins and crimes had brought on his former name. Yast results have sometimes turned on the action of the conclave. A single illustration may be given. In the sum- mer of 1197, Henry III., a powerful monarch, wore the im- AND HOW HE IS CHOSEN. 155 perial crown. His antagonist in the papacy was an old man ninety years of age, Celestine III. So unequally were the papacy and the empire matched. On the 28th of Septem- ber of that year, the Emperor Henry died. A few months later, on the 8th of January, 1198, Celestine also died. On the same day the conclave assembled. A number of votes were cast for one candidate and another ; but these candi- dates themselves united in proposing that Giovanni Lotario Conti should be the Pope, and he was forthwith chosen unanimously, takifig the name of Innocent III. This great- est of the Pontiffs was then in the vigor of life, being only thirty-seven years old. Frederic II., who eventually suc- ceeded to the empire, was at that time a child. In the Pa- pal chair w^as a sagacious and energetic statesman, thoroughly in earnest, and determined to carry the Papal prerogatives to the greatest height. On the other side, there was divi- sion and confusion. Such was the change in the posture of affairs which a few months wrought. Yet Innocent, like certain other great Pontiffs, was reluc- tant to take on him the burdens and responsibilities of the office. Gregory I. — Gregory the Great — when he learned of his election, hid himself. He held out in his refusal of the station allotted to him as long as he could. Gregory YII. consented, not~ without an inward struggle, to take the part of leader in the tremendous conflict with secular authority which the Papal office, in his judgment, imposed upon him. Like Calvin afterwards at Geneva, he knew what a struggle awaited him. If Hildebrand was ambitious, it was no vul- gar ambition that inspired him. Innocent II., as long as he was able, withstood the cardinals who were resolved to make him Pope ; and Eugene III. had to be dragged out of his cell, and forced to assume the purple. If there have been ambitious intriguers who have aspired to this lofty distinc- tion, and have climbed to it by flagitious means, there have been others who have sincerely desired to shun so harassing and responsible a station. It is difficult to see how, in the 166 THE OFFICE OF THE POPE present circumstances, any one who values his own ease and comfort can wish to grasp the sceptre which the present Pontiff must soon lay down. The pontificate of Pius IX., who was elected Pope as the successor of Gregory XYI., on the 16th of June, 1846, is drawing to a close. Victor Emanuel is no more, and at the death of the present Pontiff, when it shall occur, the two most prominent actors in the drama of recent Italian history, so fraught with momentous events, will have passed off the stage. There are two principal eras in the long reign of Pius IX., and two principal sides to his activity. In the first place, he has played a conspicuous part in political affairs. The temporal principality which the Popes had held for a thousand years has been torn from his grasp. Italy has be- come a united kingdom under the house of Savoy, and Rome has become its capital. There are many who recall the start- ling impression made by the liberal measures of Pius IX., on his first accession to power, and the enthusiasm among the friends of Italian liberty which w^as kindled in those days of hope. The intolerable misgovernment in the Papal States imperatively required a radical change in the system of in- ternal administration, and Pius IX. undertook to organize a constitutional monarchy in which laymen should have a large share of power. The reduction of taxes, the liberation of political prisoners, the charters given to railway and tele- graph companies, the improvement of agriculture, the pat- ronage of education, the reform of ecclesiastical institu- tions, the relaxation of restraints upon the press, and other measures consonant in spirit with these, seemed to usher in an utterly new period of liberty and prosperity in the Ro- man kingdom. But the Pope had still larger aims. Italy was groaning under the tyranny of Austria, and of the petty sovereigns who were under Austrian influence. That Italy should be emancipated from oppression, and combine into a AND HOW HE IS CHOSEN. 157 confederation of which the Pope should be the head — ^be- coming thus once more a nation among the nations — ^was an- other design which Pius IX. cherished, and which he hoped to realize. All these fair dreams and bright beginnings were shattered in pieces. The revolutions of 1848 were attended with consequences which the Pope had not foreseen. A tem- pest arose which he could neither quell nor control. On the one hand, there was Austria, which had endeavored to pre- vent his election to the papacy, which had done what it could to baffle his projects of reform and his concessions to liberalism, and which stood in mortal hostility to everything that could be called Italian liberty. On the other hand, there were the Radicals, the republicans of the Mazzini type, who demanded a democratic system, and were deter- mined to wrest all secular authority from ecclesiastics. The Pope found himself in a place where two currents met. The liberals were bent on driving him to a more advanced position than he was prepared to take up, and to involve him in an open war with Austria. The winds were let loose ; "Una Eurusqne Notusque ruunt creberque procellia Af ricus, et vastos volvunt ad libera fluctus. " How a man of greater talents and sagacity might have suc- ceeded in preserving himself and his cause in such a storm, it is not for us to say. On the 24th of August he fled from Rome to Gaeta. The French occupation of Rome followed. Thenceforward, the idea of liberal and partly lay government for Rome was abandoned by the Pope. The success of France, in alliance with Sardinia, in the war with Austria, paved the way for the extension of the rule of Piedmont over all Italy. The Franco-German war disabled Napoleon III. from longer hindering the consummation of the move- ment which he had helped to initiate. The Papal States were absorbed in the Italian kingdom, and Victor Emanuel took possession of the Quirinal. The restoration of the Italian nationality under the auspices 158 THE OFFICE OF THE POPE of a limited monarchy and a native dynasty, is one of the most gratifying events which have occurred in our time. The charm wliich Italy must always possess for the histori- cal student is far from being the only source of the interest which we cannot but feel in the fortunes of this beautiful land. This charm is indeed great. What a part have Rome and Italy played for the last twenty-five centuries in the his- tory of mankind ! What a glory rests upon this birthplace and hearthstone of the civilization of Western • Europe, whence law, and literature, and culture have flowed out in a quickening stream upon so many nations of Christendom ! But this interest derived from memorable ages of history Italy shares with other lands — especially with Greece and with Palestine. Athens and Jerusalem are cities which, in some relations, awaken a deeper feeling than Rome itself. But the Italy of to-day is full of a vigorous life. The Italians are a highly intellectual people, l^o statesman of modern times has surpassed in ability, perhaps none has equalled in ability. Count Cavour. The public men of Italy are versed in political science and political economy. ]^o- where else are there to be found persons more competent to deal with great political and social problems. The reinstate- ment of Italy as a power among the nations is adapted to give the deepest satisfaction to thoughtful and good men. If it has not taken place in the way which the Pope would have chosen, if the loss of his temporalities has called out from him bitter reproaches, still the unification of his coun- try is really one of the most beneficent events which signal- ize the annals of his pontificate. Not less momentous have been the events of this pontificate within the spiritual sphere. In 1854 Pius IX. invited the Roman Catholic bishops in all the countries to resort to Rome, and with their support and consent, though without the decree of a council, he promulgated the dogma of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary. This act was contrary to the advice and judgment of many of the most discreet theo- AND now HE IS CHOSEN. 159 logians and ecclesiastics of the Roman Catholic Church. It decided authoritatively a point of divinity on which theo- logical opinion from the days of Augustine had been di- vided. Great names in the past could be appealed to in opposition to the new definition. 'No doubt it was repug- nant to the previous opinions and wishes of multitudes from whom no public expression in opposition to it was heard. Moreover, it was the making of a dogma by the Pope's bare authority, with no concurrent action by the episcopate gath- ered in an oecumenical body. In this light it was seen to be a stretch of pontifical prerogatives of a highly portentous character. The influence of the Jesuit Society over the Papal mind was supposed to be further disclosed when, on the 8th of December, 1864, the celebrated Syllabus appeared, in which were condemned a long list of alleged errors, which appeared to include the liberty of the press, secular education, freedom of religious belief and worship, and various other characteristic elements of popular liberty and modern civilization. "Whether the propositions of the Syl- labus were spoken ex cathedra, and addressed to the entire church, or not, is a question on which Poman Catholic au- thorities are not agreed. Dr. l^ewman, in his controversy with Mr. Gladstone, maintained that they are not. Cer- tainly, the assumption that they are absolutely binding on the conscience of all Catholics seriously embarrasses the de- fence of the Poman Catholic system in all free countries. In 1869-70, there followed the great ecclesiastical event of this pontificate, the Vatican Council, by which the infalli- bility of the Pope was decreed. Another question of the highest moment was then^ taken from the category of dis- puted and disputable beliefs, and a decision of it was incor- porated among the Articles of Faith. It is difficult to say how far these extraordinary measures, which have modified in important respects the Poman Catholic Church, and have set up new barriers in the way of compromise and union with opposing systems, emanated from the Pope's own 160 THE POPE AND HOW HE IS CHOSEN. natural proclivities, and how far they were inspired by the peculiar influences by which he has been surrounded. At the very moment when the temporal monarchy fell, and the Papal influence in the civil affairs of nations was at the lowest ebb, the spiritual monarchy was carried to the highest pitch of exaltation. The Roman Catholic Church has gen- erally acquiesced in this remarkable change. Men, like Bish- op Hefele, who had just before demonstrated the fallibility of Pope Honorius, accept the new definition. The Old Catholic movement was not without a political importance ; able and cultivated men were enlisted in it ; but apparently it has no strength in the mass of the Catholic population even in Germany. It has no deep root among the people. Pere Hyacinthe stands by himself, refusing to sanction the new dogma, and by an exercise of private judgment decid- ing that the action of the Vatican Council is destitute of 03cumenical authority, at the same time that his dissatisfac- tion with the Protestant system of belief and worship keeps him from placing himself within the pale of any of the Protestant religious bodies. 161 THE RELATION OF PROTESTANTISM AND OF ROMANISM TO MODERN CIVILIZATION.* In this discussion I shall take " civilization " in the broad sense, and include under the term all that enters into the improvement of the individual and of society — all the ele- ments that unite to constitute an advanced stage of human progress. Whenever we contemplate the growth of civili- zation, we should not' confine our attention to the organized institutions, political or ecclesiastical, which minister to the welfare of mankind, but should take into view, also, what- ever influences spring from the individual and contribute to his well-being. In other words, the term " civilization " in- cludes culture. .The inventions and discoveries that lighten the burden of labor and conduce to material comfort, the safeguards of law, refined sentiments, literature, art, and sci- ence, the amenities of social intercourse — all that raises man above the rude and narrow life of the barbarian is embraced in this comprehensive term. In defining civilization, how- ever, it has been justly said that no nation can be considered highly civilized in which a small class is possessed of the benefits of scholarship, the charm of polished manners, and the conveniences and luxuries derived from wealth, at the same time that the bulk of the population are sunk in pov- erty and ignorance, perhaps degraded to a condition of serf- dom. Nor can that nation be deemed civilized, in the fuU idea of the word, where the fine arts flourish while agricul- ture and the mechanic arts are in a low state. Civilization * A Paper read at the meeting of the Evangelical Alliance in New York, October, 1873. 162 THE RELATION OF PROTESTANTISM AND should involve something like an impartial or proportionate development of the capacities of man and a fair distribution of social advantages. It should likewise carry within it the germ of further and indefinite progress. We are absolved from inquiring, in this place, what sort of a civilization could exist, and how long it were possible for civilization to continue, without any aid from religion. Whoever believes in the teachings of Christ needs no argu- ment to convince him that Christianity is essential to the en- during life of all that is excellent and lioble in the products of human activity. " Ye are the salt of the earth." It is clear that Christianity, from the moment when it first gained a foothold in the Roman Empire down to the pres- ent time, has never ceased to exert a profound influence up- on society. Of the several agencies which have chiefly con- spired to determine the course and the character of modem history, Christianity and the church are first in importance. Attribute whatever weight we may to the legacy that was transmitted from the nations of antiquity, or to the pecu- liar genius of their barbarian conquerors, every discerning student must allow to Christianity the predominant part in moulding the history of the European communities now on the stage of action. No enlightened Protestant, in our day, will be inclined to disparage the wholesome influence which the Roman Catho- lic Church may still exert in certain places and over certain classes of people. We are not disposed to undervalue the benefits which that church, in the middle ages, when it was the only organized form of Christianity in Western Europe, conferred on society. We are even quite willing to concede that the papacy itself, the centralized system of rule, which has been the fountain of incalculable evils, was providentially made productive of important advantages during the period when ignorance and brute force prevailed, and when anarchy and violence constituted the main peril to which civilization was exposed. Let us thankfully acknowledge the debt that OF EOMANISM TO MODERN CIVILIZATION. 163 is due to the mediaeval church for preserving from utter de- struction the remains of ancient literature and art, for train- ing the minds of undisciplined men, and imparting to them what knowledge had outlived the wreck of ancient power and culture, and for curbing the passions and softening the manners of rude peoples. Christianity in the mediaeval church existed in a corrupt form, but its life was not extinct, and it operated as a leaven, according to the promise of its Author- Our attention is to be directed to more recent times. We have to compare the influence of Komanism with that of Protestantism, as that influence is seen in the course of the last three centuries, and as it is deducible from the nature of the respective systems. There is one point of contrast between the two systems which deserves to be placed in the foreground of our inquiry. The Roman Catholic system is the rule of society by a sacer- dotal class. This is a fundamental characteristic of that system. The guidance of the conscience of individuals, and of the policy of nations, so far as their policy may be thought to touch the province of morals and religion, is relegated to a body of priests, or, according to the recent Vatican Coun- cil, to their head. The authority to decide upon the ques- tions of highest moment resides in this body of ecclesiastics. It is not, indeed, like those hereditary priesthoods which are separated by an impassible barrier from other orders of men, and which are found, as an established aristocracy, in certain oriental religions. E^evertheless, it is a limited class, ad- mitting to its ranks none whom it chooses to exclude, and assuming the exalted prerogative of pronouncing infallibly upon questions of truth and duty, and of conveying or with- holding the blessings of salvation. Protestantism denied this prerogative. It broke down the wall of separation be- tween priest and layman. It accorded to the laity the full right to determine for themselves those questions over which the clergy had claimed an exclusive jurisdiction. It declared that the heavenly good offered in the Gospel is accessible to 164 THE RELATION OF PROTESTANTISM AND the humblest soul, without the intervention o£ a mediatorial priesthood. The emancipation of the laitj from clerical rule is one of the prime characteristics of the Reformation. 1. Protestantism, as compared with the opposite system, sets free and stimulates the energy, intellectual and moral, of the individual, and thus augments the forces of which civilization is the product. The progress of civilization, in the long course of history, is marked by the growing respect paid to the rights of the individual, and the ampler room afforded for the unfolding of his powers, and for the realiz- ing of his aspirations. There was something imposing in those huge despotisms — Egypt, Assyria, Babylon, Persia — in which a multitude of human beings were welded together imder an absolute master. Such empires were an advance upon a primitive state of things, where every man's hand was against his neighbor. Yet they were a crude form of crystallization ; and they were intrinsically weak. The little cities of Greece, with their freer political life, and the larger scope which they allowed for the activity and the culture of the individual — communities of citizens — proved more than a match for the colossal might of the East. Among the Greeks and Romans, however, although governments of law had supplanted naked force, the state was supreme, and to the state the individual must yield an exclusive allegiance. It was a great gain when the Christian church arose, and when the individual became conscious of an allegiance of the soul to a higher kingdom — an allegiance which did not sup- ersede his loyalty to the civil authority, but limited while it sanctioned this obligation. But the church itself at length erected a supremacy over the individual, inconsistent with the free action of reason and conscience, and even stretched that supremacy so far as to dwarf and overshadow civil so- ciety. It reared a theocracy, and subjected everything to its unlimited sway. The Reformation gave back to the indi- vidual his proper autonomy. The result is a self-respect, an intellectual activity, a development of inventive capacity, OF KOMANISM TO MODERN CIVILIZATION. 165 and of energy of character, which give rise to such achieve- ments in science, in the field of political action, and in every work where self-reliance and personal force are called for, as would be impossible under the opposite system. In the period immediately following the Reformation, signal proofs were afforded of this truth. The little States of Holland, for example, proved their ability to cope with the Spanish Empire, to gain their independence, and to acquire an opu- lence and a culture which recalled the best days of the Grecian republics. They beat back their invaders from their soil, and sent forth their victorious navies upon every sea, while at home they were educating the common people, fostering science and learning, and building up imiversities famous throughout Europe. England, in the age of Eliza- beth, proved that the native vigor of her people was re-en- forced in a remarkable degree by the stimulus derived from the peculiar genius of the Protestant religion. It was the period when she was acquiring her naval ascendancy ; the period, likewise, of Shakspeare, Bacon, and Raleigh. Who can doubt that the United States of America are — not in- deed wholly, but in great part — indebted to their position, as contrasted with that of Mexico and the political communi- ties of South America, to this expansion of the power of the individual, which is the uniform and legitimate fruit of Protestant principles ? 2. The spirit of Protestantism favors universal education. The lay Christian, who is to read and interpret the Scrip- tures, and to take part in the administration of government in the church, must not be an illiterate person. Ivnowledge, mental enlightenment, under the Protestant system, are in- dispensable. The weight of personal responsibility for the culture of his intellectual and spiritual nature, which rests on every individual, makes education a matter of universal concern. Far more has been done in Protestant than in Roman Catholic countries for the instruction of the whole people. It is enough to refer to the common-school system 166 THE RELATION OF PROTESTANTISM AND of Holland, and of New England, and to Protestant Ger- many, to show how natural it is for the disciples of the Reformation to provide for this great interest of society. The free circulation of the Bible in Protestant lands has disseminated an instrument of intellectual, as well as of re- ligious, improvement, the good effect of which is immeasura- ble. As a repository of history, biography, poetry, ethics, as well as a monitor to the conscience and a guide to heaven, the Bible has exerted an influence on the common mind, in all Protestant nations, which it would be difficult to exag- gerate. The practice of interpreting the Bible and of ex- ploring its pages for fresh truth affords a mental discipline of a very high order. How often have the Scriptures car- ried into the cottage of the peasant a breadth and refinement of intellect which otherwise would never have existed, and which no agency employed by the Poman Catholic system, in relation to the same social class, has ever been able to engender ! 3. That Protestantism should be more friendly to civil and religious liberty than the Poman Catholic system would seem to follow unavoidably from the nature of the two forms of faith. Protestantism involves, as a vital element, an assertion of personal rights with respect to religion, the highest concern of man. Moreover, Protestantism casts off the yoke of priestly rule, and puts ecclesiastical government, in due measure, into the hands of the laity. As we have already said, it is a revolt of the laity against a usurped ecclesiastical authority. The Church of Pome teaches men that their first and most binding duty is to bow with unquestioning docility and ' obedience to their Heaven-appointed superiors. How is it possible that Protestantism should not foster a habit of mind which is incompatible with a patient endurance of tyranny at the hands of the civil power ? How can Protestantism, inspiring a lively sense of personal rights, fail to bring with it, eventually at least, a corresponding respect for the rights OF KOMANISM TO MODERN CIVILIZATION. 167 of others, and a disposition to secure their rights in forms of government and in legislation ? How can men who are ac- customed to judge for themselves and act independently in church affairs manifest a slavish spirit in the political sphere? On the contrary, the habit of mind which the Roman Catholic nurture tends to beget leads to servility in the subject toward the ruler, as long as an alliance is kept up between sovereign and priest. It is true that the Church of Rome can accommodate itself to any of the various types of political society. Her doctors have at times preached an extreme theory of popular rights and of the sovereignty of the people. While the state is subordinate to the church, any form of government may be tolerated ; and there may be an interest on the part of the priesthood in inculcating political theories which operate, in their judgment, to weaken the obligations of loyalty toward the civil magistrate, and to exalt, by contrast, the divine authority of the church. When the civil magistracy presumes to exercise prerogatives, or to ordain measures, which are deemed hurtful to the ecclesias- tical interest, a radical doctrine of revolution, even a doctrine of tyrannicide, has been heard from the pulpits of the most conservative of religious bodies. Generally speaking, however, the Church of Rome is the natural ally and supporter of arbitrary principles of govern- ment. The prevailing sentiment, the instinctive feeling, in that church, is that the body of the people are incapable of self -guidance, and that to give them the reins in civil affairs would imperil the stability of ecclesiastical control. To this reasoning it is often replied by advocates of the Roman Catholic system that Protestantism opens a door to bound- less tyranny by leaving the temporal power without any check from the ecclesiastical. The state, it is said, proves omni- potent ; the civil magistrate is delivered from the whole- some dread of ecclesiastical censure, and is left free to exer- cise all kinds of tyranny, without the powerful restraint to which he was subject under the mediaeval system. He may 168 THE RELATION OF PROTESTANTISM AND even violate the rights of conscience with impunity. The state, it is sometimes said, when released from its subordi- nate relation to the church, is a godless institution. It be- comes, like the pagan states of antiquity, absolute in the •province of religion as in secular affairs, and an irresistible engine of oppression. It must be admitted that Protestant rulers have been guilty of tyranny ; that, in many instances, they cannot be cleared of the charge of unwarrantably inter- fering with the rights of conscience, and of attempting to gov- ern the belief and regulate the forms of worship of their sub- jects, in a manner destructive of true liberty. The question is, whether these instances of misgovernment are the proper fruit of the Protestant spirit, or something at variance with it, and therefore an evil of a temporary and exceptional character. The imputation that the state as constituted under Prot- estantism is heathen depends on the false assumption that the church, and the priesthood as established in the Roman Catholic system, are identical, or so nearly identical that one cannot subsist without the other. It is assumed that when the supervision and control which the Church of Rome as- pires to exercise over the civil authority is shaken off, noth- ing is left but an unchristian or antichristian institution. The«f act that a layman can be as good a Christian as a priest is overlooked. The Christian laity who make up a common- wealth, and the Christian magistrates who are set over them, are quite as able to discern, and quite as likely to re- spect personal rights, and to act for the common weal, as if they were subject to an organized priesthood. Since the Reformation, a layman has been the head of the English Church and State, and civil magistrates in England have borne a part in ecclesiastical government. Without entering into the question of the righteousness or expediency of establishments, or broaching any of the controverted topics connected with this subject, we simply assert here that the civil government of England is not to be branded as unchristian or antichristian on account of this arrange- OF ROMANISM TO MODERN CIVILIZATION. 169 ment. As far as the administration of pubKc affairs in that country has been characterized by justice and by a regard for the well-being of all orders of people, the government has been Christian — as truly Christian, to say the least, as if the supremacy had been virtually lodged with the Pope, or with an aristocracy of priests. History verifies the proposition that Protestantism is fav- orable to civil and religious freedom, and thus promotes the attainment of the multiplied advantages which freedom brings in its train. The long and successful struggle for in- dependence in the ^Netherlands, the conflict which estab- lished English liberty against the despotic influence of the House of Stuart, the growth and establishment of the Re- public of the United States, are events so intimately con- nected with Protestantism and so dependent upon it, that we may point to them as monuments of the true spirit and tendency of the reformed religion. That religious persecu- tion has darkened the annals of the Protestant faith, and that the earliest leaders in the Reformation failed to recog- nize distinctly the principle of liberty of conscience, must be admitted. But Protestantism, as is claimed, at the present day, both by its friends and foes, was illogical, inconsistent with its own genius and principles, whenever it attempted to coerce conscience by punishing religious dissent with the sword and the fagot. Protestants illustrate the real charac- ter and tendency of their system by deploring whatever acts of religious persecution the predecessors who bore their name were guilty of, and by the open and sincere advocacy of religious liberty. Liberty of thought, and freedom of speech and of the press, however restricted they may have been by Protestants in times past, it is the tendency of Protestantism to uphold. It is more and more recognized that freedom in the investigation of truth, and in the publi- cation of opinions, is required by the true principles of the Reformation. On the other hand, the dogma of persecution has never 170 THE BELATION OF PROTESTANTISM AND been authoritatively disavowed by the Church of Rome. Who has ever done penance for St. Bartholomew's day and the burning of IIuss ? Even at present this hateful dogma is boldly professed by the organs of the ultramontane party, which is now in the ascendant. It is difficult to see how these doctrines can be given up by a church which attributes to every one of the long line of Pontiffs infallibility on ques- tions of morals. In recent times the doctrine of " liberty of conscience " and of worship has been branded by Pius IX., in an address to all bishops — branded, therefore, ex cathedra — as an error to be abhorred and to be shunned as the con- tagion of a pestilence. The recent dogma of the Council of the Vatican involves a formidable attack upon civil liberty, ^his new article of belief subjects all civil legislation to the moral criticism of the Pope of Rome, and binds every mem- ber of the Roman Catholic Church, whether ruler or sub- ject, to submit to his decision. Xo limit is set to the power of the priest to uitermeddle with the governments that ac- knowledge his jurisdiction. 4. Protestantism has bestowed a great boon upon civili- zation in supplanting the ascetic type of religion. Christi- anity came not to destroy, but to fulfill. It was not to su- persede any one of the normal activities, or to proscribe any of the legitimate products of human exertion. It was to mingle in the earthly pursuits of mankind, a renovating and purifying influence. Family life, letters, art, science, amuse- ment, trade, and' commerce were to suffer no blight, but were rather to experience a quickening and, at the same time, an elevating power from contact with the Gospel. Christ bade his followers not to retreat from the world, but to stay in it and transform it. The kingdom of God on earth was to draw within it all that is pure and admirable in the infinitely diversified works and achievements of the natural man. It was not to be a ghostly realm of devotees, but a society of men and women, not indifferent to the labors and pleasures that pertain to this life, but infusing into all OF ROMANISM TO MODERN CIVILIZATION. 171 things a spirit of religious consecration. The ascetic type of religion interposes a gulf between religion and the business of the world, between things natui-al and supernatural. The creation of a separate priesthood, who are cut off from family life and from the ordinary relations of society, exem- plifies the ascetic tendency, which appears more or less dis- tinctly throughout the Roman Catholic system. The effect of the compulsory rule of celibacy is to attach a stigma to the institution of marriage and to the domestic relations. These relations are held to involve an inferior condition of sanctity. Apart from all the other evils which are connected with the law of celibacy, it strikes a blow at the sacredness of an institution on which the interests of civilization essen- tially depend. But the ascetic spirit, the unauthorized di- vorce of things sacred and secular, penetrates much further. It is a remarkable fact in history that the rise of com- merce helped to midermine the authority of the clergy, and was one of the potent instruments in educating the Euro- pean mind for the revolt of Protestantism. Commerce, it is true, produced a keenness and sagacity of intellect, and led to an activity of social movement and intercourse, which tended to break the yoke of superstition. Municipalities of busy merchants soon began to chafe under the sway of ec- clesiastics. Independently, however, of these peculiar ef- fects of trade, there was a secret but growing consciousness that great industrial enterprises and secular activity do not find any link of connection with the ascetic type of religion. They may get from it a bare toleration, but they must look elsewhere for a sanction and a baptism. 5. The Protestant religion keeps alive in the nations that adopt it the spirit of progress. There may exist a high de- gree of civilization in certain respects, but a civilization which has ceased to expand through forces inherent in itself. China is an example. There may be a richer and more complex development which yet culminates, and, thence- forward, either remains stationary, or, which is more likely 172 THE RELATION OF PROTESTANTISM AND to occur, becomes degenerate and goes backward. The civi- lization of the ancient Roman empire is a signal case of such an arrest of progress and of such a decadence. The spirit of progress, the fresh and unexhausted energy and hopefulness, with the consequent rapid growth in material and intellectual achievements which distinguish the Protes- tant nations, are due, not to characteristics of race alone, nor to incidental advantages of any kind, but, in a great de- gree, to their religion. There is a disposition to look for- ward as well as backward, to expect a future greater than the past, and to believe in the practicableness of carrying improvement to heights heretofore unattained. France is a prosperous and highly civilized nation ; but of all coun- tries nominally Eoman Catholic, France is the one in which the Church of Eome has had the feeblest sway, and the one most alive to the influences wliich Protestantism and the Protestant civilization of other European nations have set in motion. The effect of the reactionary Catholicism that fol- lowed the Reformation upon the nations of Southern Eu- rope was deadening. In the decay of the Renaissance, music, painting, and poetry revived, in the ferment of relig- ious enthusiasm excited by the Catholic reaction ; but the intellectual vigor of Italy and Spain beneath the iron tread of the Inquisition was soon crushed. The history of these naturally gifted peoples, subjected to the stifling atmosphere of ecclesiastical tyranny, is a convincing illustration of the fatal effect of such a system. The present aspect of South America and Mexico, when compared with the American communities which have been reared on Protestant founda- tions, impressively exhibits the same thing. Roman Catholic polemics maintain that Protestantism is responsible for the skepticism and unbelief that prevail so extensively among Christian nations. They assert that there has arisen in the wake of Protestantism a spirit of irrelig- ion which threatens to subvert the social fabric. The causes OF ROMANISM TO MODERN CIVILIZATION. 173 of this evil, however, do not lie at the door of Protestant- ism. The free inquiry that had developed in Europe in connection with the revival of learning could not be smoth- ered by mere authority. The earnest religious feeling which the Reformation at the outset brought with it counteracted the tendencies to unbelief, for a time, at least ; and it was only w^hen Protestantism departed from its own principles, and acted upon the maxims of its adversary, at the same time losing the warmth of religious life so conspicuous at the be- ginning, that infidelity had a free course. The ideas which Plutarch long ago embodied in his treatise on superstition and unbelief are well founded. They are two extremes, each of which begets the other. Kot only may the artificial faith which leads to superstitious practices, and drives its devotees to fanaticism, at length spend its force, and move the same devotees to cast off the restraints of religion ; but the spectacle of superstition, also, repels more sober and courageous minds from all faith and worship. Such has been the notorious effect of the superstitious ceremonies and austerities of the Poman Catholic system, both in the age of the Renaissance and in our own day. Religion conies to be identified, in the opinions of men, with tenets and ob- servances which are repugnant; to reason and common sense ; and hence truth and error are thrown overboard at once. Disgusted with the follies which pass under the name of religion, and attract the reverence of the ignorant, men make shipwreck of faith altogether. The same baleful in- fluence ensues upon the attempt to stretch the principle of authority beyond the due limit. It is like the effect of ex- cessive restraint in the family. A revolt is the consequence wherever there is a failure to repress mental activity and to enslave the will. The subjugation of the intelligence which the Roman Catholic system carries with it as an essential ingredient compels a mutiny which is very likely not to stop with the rejection of usurped authority. There is a general source of unbelief which is independent of the influence of 174 THE RELATION OF PROTESTANTISM AND any particular form of religion. Rationalism lias been cor- rectly described as the fruit of the understanding stepping beyond its sphere, and supplanting the normal action of the moral and religious nature. It is due to a one-sided, exclusive, and narrow activity of a single function of the intellect, at the expense of conscience and the intuitive power. Such, for example, was the character of that skepticism which the Sophists encouraged, and which Socrates, appeal- ing directly to the immediate, ineradicable convictions of the soul, did so much to overthrow. When the free and ac- countable nature of the soul, and the aspirations and presenti- ments, as profound as they are natural, of the spirit of man, are flippantly set aside to make room for something called " science," which is converted by its votaries into a fetich, infidelity is the inevitable consequence. There is nothing in Protestant principles, rightly understood, to warrant or to induce such a procedure. Looking at the matter histori- cally, we find that, in the age prior to the Reformation, un- belief was most rife in Italy, the ancient centre of the Ro- man Catholic hierarchy. In recent times, skepticism is no- where more prevalent than among the higher, cultivated classes in Roman Catholic countries, where the doctrines of that religion have been perpetually taught, and where its ritual has been celebrated vnth most pomp. To the relation of Protestantism and Romanism to spe- cial evils that afflict our modern civilization, it is hardly possible within the space given to this Paper to allude. War is still a terrible scourge of nations. It is obvious that the power of the Church of Rome, as an organized body, to avert war, even between countries owning its authority, amounts to nothing. It has been reserved for two English- speaking nations, professing the Protestant faith, to furnish, as they have lately done, an impressive proof of what may be accomplished by the peaceful method of arbitration. The church of old favored the emancipation of slaves ; but OF ROMANISM TO MODERN CIVILIZATION. 175 slavery was abolished in the United States with little or no help from the ecclesiastics of the Roman Church. In the disposition to minister to poverty and to the va- rious forms of physical distress, Roman Catholics, be it said to their honor, vie with Protestant Christians. But, this may be claimed for Protestantism, that its disciples are more zealous to devise the means of prevention, to explore these great evils to their sources, and then to apply radical and permanent remedies. Political economy and social science, although still immature, flourish chiefly under the auspices of Protestant Christianity. There are questions, of which the " labor question," as it is called, is one of the most promi- nent, with which neither church can be said to have fully grappled. But Protestantism has a better promise of con- tributing to the solution of these grave and portentous prob- lems than the opposite system ; for the laborer has no real quarrel with the Protestant religion. The hostility of the laboring class to a priestly system may take the form of a hatred to religion itself ; but better teaching and a true spirit of philanthropy may give them the needed light. The Roman Catholic Church is at present engaged in the hopeless struggle to uphold in the midst of modern society the religious ideas and customs of the middle ages. A dictatorial attitude toward the civil authority, the manage- ment of education by ecclesiastics, an appeal to the senses by a gorgeous ritual, an exorbitant demand upon the cred- ulity of mankind by unverified miracles and prodigies, an attempt to revive pilgrimages and other obsolete or obsoles- cent superstitions, an increased devotion to the Virgin Mary, which borders on idolatry — such are some of the character- istics of this movement. It is the endeavor to reinstate or maintain a type of civilization on which history has pro- nounced a final verdict. 176 THE RELATION OF THE CHUKCH OF ENGLAND THE RELATION OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND TO THE OTHER PROTESTANT CHURCHES.* Certain events connected with the recent conference of the Evangelical Alliance in this country have brought up anew for discussion the attitude of the Church of England, at present and in the past, towards the other Protestant churches. It is well known that there is now, and long has been, a party in the Episcopal Church, who have refused to hold communion with other Protestant bodies, for the rea- son that these discard the episcopal polity, and that their ministers are not ordained by bishops. This party, which goes by the name of the High Church, is composed of two subdivisions. The one class is made up of those who carry their views of doctrine and their notions of worship to the verge of Romanism, and look with more or less yearning towards the Greek and Latin churches, whose doctrine of transubstantiation is regarded with less aversion than is felt towards the prevailing opinions of Protestants respecting the sacrament. The other class are hostile to Rome, and to the ritualism that copies her ceremonies, but maintain the exclusive sanctity of episcopal ordination, and, therefore, stand aloof from the other churches of the Reformation. The Church of England, with its offshoots and branches, is, in their system, the one true church, with which alone it is lawful to have ecclesiastical communion. All other churches are shut out of ecclesiastical fellowship, either as being non- episcopal, or, like Rome, as being corrupt. Now there is a class of writers of the High Church party * An Article in The New-Englander for January, 1874. TO THE OTHEE PEOTESTANT CHUECHES. 177 who seek to convey the impression, sometimes by direct as- sertion, and sometimes by more indirect means, that the Churcli of England, in the first centmy after the Reforma- tion, or in the period prior to Laud and to the act of uni- formity under Charles II., professed the theories which they now profess, and stood in the isolated and exclusive position in which their party, since the middle of the seventeenth century have striven to hold her. We do not mean to im- pute this flagrant perversion of historical truth to all writers of the High Church school. There are candid scholars among them, like Keble, who discern and acknowledge facts, even when they militate against a party interest. Much less do we charge this kind of misrepresentation upon the writers of the Episcopal Church generally. Historical stu- dents who pursue these investigations without being warped by theological prejudice, are generally well agreed on the facts of the English Reformation. Hallam, Macaulay, and the other standard historians, state with substantial correct- ness the transformations which took place between the time of Cranmer and the eras of Laud and Sheldon. Authors who are strongly averse to Puritanism, and warmly attached to the episcopal side in the controversy between Churchman and Puritan, but who are too honest to be misled, or to mis- lead their readers, through partisan feeling, are equally com- mendable. The following passage from Lathbury's History of English Episcopacy, the work of a writer of this stamp, will illustrate our remark, and, at the same time, present some of the facts, which we shall establish in the course of this Article : — "The Eng-lisli Reformers did not contend for any system of govern- ment or discipline in the church, as being ^'wre divino ; things indifferent, as ceremonies and clerical habits, were left to the civil magistrates. Nor did they refuse to recognize the validity of ordination in those foreign churches that had renounced episcopacy." "The question of church government was vehemently agitated at this period [the reign of Eliza- beth] . The Reformers were agreed that no precise form was laid down in the New Testament ; but when the Puritans became divided into two 178 THE EELATTON OF THE CnURCII OF ENGLAND parties, the Presbyterian party advocated the divine right of their sys- tem. Cranmer and all the Reformers asserted that the form of govern- ment was left to the civil magistrate to determine, according to times and circumstances. The prelates of this reign maintained the same views ; but like the earlier Reformers, they considered episcopacy, as retained in the English Church, to have been the apostolic practice. They did not, however, consider any mode of government essential to the constitution of the church ; hence the validity of ordination as exercised in those re- formed churches where episcopacy was not retained, was admitted. By an act passed in the thirteenth year of this reign, the ordinations of for- eign reformed churches were declared valid, and their ministers were ca- pable of enjoying preferment on receiving a license from the bishop.* Many who had received ordination abroad were allowed to exercise their ministry in the Church of England, provided they conformed. Travers, Whittingham, Cartwright, and many others had received no other, and their ordination was never questioned, f At a subsequent period this practice was denounced ; and in 1662, it was ordered that no minister should exercise his office in the Church of England who had not received episcopal ordination. It appears that the Reformers did not contend for the superiority of the office of bishop as a distinct order from the priest- hood, but as different only in degree. Nor did any member of the Church of England claim this distinction, till the year 1588, when Bancroft, in his celebrated sermon at Paul's Cross, asserted it." "Laud's notions on the subject of church government were at variance with those adopted by many of his predecessors, who, until the time of Bancroft, never claimed a divine right for the government of the English Church ; and even Bancroft ad- mitted the validity of Presbyterian ordination ; for when it was suggested in 1610, that the Scotch bishops elect should be ordained presbyters, he opposed on the ground that ordination by presbyters was valid." X We quote the passages, not because we approve every sentence, but as, on the whole, a just exhibition of the facts, and as showing how a fair-minded churchman, who is, also, a thorough student, is capable of writing. The following extract is from a writer of another type of theology and of churchmanship, but an accomplished his- torical scholar, Dean Stanley : — " Whether from policy or necessity, the whole settlement of modern Scottish Episcopacy was far more Presbyterian, far less Episcopal and * Strype's Annals, 524. f [That is, until the new spirit, described in the next sentence, arose.] X Lathbury, History oftheEnylish Episcopacy^ pp. 19, 63, 170. TO THE OTHER PROTESTANT CFJURCUES. 179 Catholic, than in any country in Europe. Doubtless this was partly oc- casioned by the fact, that in England itself the sentiment toward Presby- terian churches was far more generous and comprehensive in the century that followed the Reformation than it was in that which followed the Kestoration. The English Articles are so expressed as to include the re- recognition of Presbvterian ministers. The first English Act of Unifor- mity was passed with the expressed view of securing their services to the English Church. The first English Reformers, and the statesmen of Elizabeth, would have been astonished at any claim of exclusive sanc- tity for the Episcopal order." * " It was not Knox, but Andrew Melville, who introduced into Scotland the divine right of Presbytery, the sister- dogma of the divine right of Episcopacy, which Bancroft and Laud intro- duced into England." " It is this (the Church of Scotland] for which every English churchman is asked to pray, by the canons of the English Convocation, which enjoins that prayers are to be offered up 'for Christ's Holy Catholic Church, that is, for the whole congregation of Christians dispersed throughout the whole world, especially for the Churches of England, Scotland, and Ireland.' * There can be no doubt,' says the can- did and accurate annalist of Scottish Episcopacy, ' that the framers of this have meant to acknowledge the northern ecclesiastical establishment at that time Presbyterian, as a Christian Church-' "f " The very first declaration which the sovereign makes — taking precedence even of the recognition of the rights and liberties of the English Church and nation, which are postponed till the day of the coronation — is that in which, on the day of the accession, the sovereign declares that he or she will main- tain inviolate and intact the Church of Scotland." '' In the Act of Union itself, which prescribes this declaration, the same securities are through- out exacted for the Church of Scotland as were exacted for the Church of England ; and it is on record that, when that act was passed, and some questions arose amongst the peers as to the propriety of so complete a recognition of the Presbyterian Church, the then primate of all England, the ' old rock,' as he was called, Archbishop Tenison, rose, and said with a weight which carried all objections before it, * the iiarrow notions of all churches have been their ruin. I believe that the Church of Scotland though not so perfect as ours, is as true a Prot^tant church as the Church of England.' " X * See this well drawn out in Lord 3Iacaulay*8 correspondence with the Bishop of Exeter ; and in Principal Tulloch's Article on the English and Scottish Churches, in the Contemporary Review, December, 1871. f See the discussions of the canons of 1603, in Grub [Ecd. Hist, of Scot- land], ii,282. J Carstairs' Stat€ Papers, 739, 760. [Stanley's Lectures on t7i€ Eigtory of the Church of Scotland, pp. 47, 66, 67. (Am. ed. )] 180 THE RELATION OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND The drift of the representations of secular historians of the highest credit, may be learned from the following pas- sage from Hallam, himself a churchman, and an authority of the first rank upon questions of legal and constitutional history : — * ' The system pursued by Bancroft and his imitators, Bishops Neyle and Laud, with the approbation of the king, far opposed to the healing coun- sels of Burleigh and Bacon, was just such as low-bom and little-minded men, raised to power by fortune's caprice, are ever found to pursue." ' ' They began by preaching the divine right, as it is called, or absolute indispensability, of episcopacy ; a doctrine of which the first traces, as I apprehend, are found about the end of Elizabeth's reign. They insisted on the necessity of episcopal succession regularly derived from the apos- tles. They drew an inference from this tenet, that ordinations by pres- byters were in all cases null ; and as this affected all the Reformed churches in Europe except their own, the Lutherans not having preserved the suc- cession of their bishops, while the Calvinists had altogether abolished that order, thej'^ began to speak of them, not as brethren of the same faith, united in the same cause, and distinguished only by differences little more material than those of political commonwealths (which had been the language of the Church of England ever since the Reform atioYi), but as aliens to whom they were not at all related, and schismatics with whom they held no communion ; nay, as wanting the very essence of a Christian society." In the foot-note, Hallam adds that ''it is evident, by some passages in Strype, attentively considered, that natives regularly ordained abroad, in the Presbyterian churches, were admitted to hold pre- ferment in England ; the first bishop who objected to them seems to have been Aylraer. Instances, however, of foreigners holding preferment without any reordination may be found down to the civil wars." — Annals of the Reformation, ii., 522, and Appendix, 116; Life of Grindal, 271 ; Collier, ii., 594; Neal, i., 258.* Since the late meeting of the Evangelical Alliance, Bishop Cummins, in a letter to the ]}^ew York Tribune, referred to tlie fact that Presbyterian ministers, in the period following the Reformation, had been admitted to parishes in England without reordination ; and he referred, among his authori- ties, to Prof. Fisher's work on the Eef ormation. The state- ment was denied by the Eev. Dr. Drumm, in communi- ♦ Const History (Harpers' Am. ed.), p. 226. TO THE OTHKR PROTESTANT CHURCHES. 181 cations to the same journal. Prof. Fisher published two letters in the Tribune in proof of the assertion ; and these letters we propose to transfer to our pages, partly for the purpose of giving them a more permanent form, and partly in order to illustrate their contents by further proofs and observations, such as could not well find place in the columns of a daily newspaper. As several topics belonging to the same general subject are handled in these letters, and will be considered in the pages which follow, we set forth dis- tinctly the main propositions, which we conceive to be as capable of being established as any facts in the ecclesiastical history of England : 1. The first and second generation of English Reformers, Cranmer and his associates. Jewel and his contemporaries, did not hold the^W^ divino^ or exclusive, theory of episco- pacy. 2. The Church of England, in the sixteenth century, was in full communion with the other Protestant churches of Europe. 3. The greatest divines in the Church of England in the seventeenth century agreed with Hooker in acknowledging the validity of Presbyterian ordination, and in the recogni- tion of the foreign Protestant churches. This was true of Ussher, Hall, and Stillingfleet, and of others of hardly less distinction. 4. The fellowship with the foreign churches on the part of the English Reformers was not owing to forbearance in them, but to the common opinion that each nation, or church, could shape its own polity, and that episcopacy might be adopted or rejected as each church or nation should see fit to determine. 5. Notwithstanding the changes in the Prayer-Book and in the law of England, at the Restoration, the Church of England has never, by law or s^modal action, discredited the validity of the ordination practiced in other Protestant bodies. 182 THE RELATION OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND We print below the first letter, in the form in which it was published in the Tribune^ but with the addition of a few marginal notes. Sir : In two communications which have lately appeared in your jour- nal, I am mentioned among writers who have stated that, for a consider- able period after the Reformation, persons who had only received non- episcopal ordination were admitted to parishes in the English Church, no objection being made to the validity of their orders. As the correctness of this assertion is directly impugned by the Rev. Dr. Drumm, and as the question is a historical one of some interest, and a question, too, that need not provoke sectarian asperity, I beg leave to offer a vindication of the truth of the statement which your correspondent has called in ques- tion. The statement is usually made as one illustration of the fact that the founders of the Anglican Church in the reigns of Henry VIII., Edward VI., and Elizabeth — Cranmer and his associates, Jewel and the Eliza- bethan bishops and divines of his time— did not hold to the j^^re divino theory of episcopacy. That is to say, they did not consider bishops, meaning a class elevated above presbyters, essential to the existence of a church, and they did not regard Episcopal ordination as indispensable to the exercise of the functions and prerogatives of the Christian ministry. On the contrary, they looked upon the Protestant ministers on the Con- tinent in the Lutheran Church, and in the Reformed Churches in Switzer- land, France, and Holland, as on a perfect equality with themselves with regard to clerical rights and qualifications. Differences arose among the Protestant churches on the subject of the Eucharist, but as to contro- versy about episcopacy, in that age there was none. When Cranmer called eminent divines from the churches on the Continent to help him compose the formularies of the Anglican Church, and to train the minis- ters of England at Oxford and Cambridge, this was not an exceptional act, but in keeping with his avowed principles and constant practice. No one who is acquainted with Cranmer's opinions, can suppose that the circum- stance that Martyr and Bucer had once taken orders in the Roman Church had a feather's weight in determining him to invite them to England^ any more than a like fact influenced him in the case of John Knox, who was made Chaplain-in-ordinary to Edward VI., was commissioned for sev- eral years as a preacher in the north of England, was offered the parish of All-Hallows in London, and finally a bishopric. Fagius, who was the companion of Bucer and Martyr, had been a minister in Germany, made such, of course, without Episcopal consecration ; and it is not true that he was called merely to teach the Hebrew language at Cambridge, as a Jew might teach. He was to expound the Old Testament, beginning with the prophet Isaiah, and he was welcomed from the beginning by TO THE OTHER PROTEST ANT CHURCHES. 183 Cranmer as an intimate counsellor and friend. That Fagius, a minister of high standing in Germany, would have accepted such an appointment from those who denied his right to exercise the ministry, is something quite incredible. Cranmer went so far as to declare, in a written docu- ment, in 1540, that no consecration of bishops or priests is necessary, "for election or appointment thereto is sufficient." (Burnet, I., ii.. Col- lection of Records, iii., 21.) That Cranmer referred to ordination, and not to institution merely, is made perfectly clear by the same document. The voluminous correspondence of the eminent English divines and re- formers, which has been published principally from the archives of Zu- rich, must convince every candid person who examines it, that no sus- picion of a want of validity in the orders of the Helvetic ministers, whose advice they so frequently sought, and whose hospitality they enjoyed, ever entered their minds. No man who has read, for example, the nu- merous letters of Bishop Cox, a warm defender of the English liturgy against the Puritans, to Gualter, the son-in-law of Zwingle — his "beloved Rodolph," as Cox styles him — will have the effrontery to affirm that the English bishop looked on his Swiss friend and adviser as one who had no right to exercise the functions of the ministry. In the last days of Ed- ward VI., Cranmer was corresponding with Calvin, Bullinger, andMelanch- thon, in order to bring together a general synod of the Protestants, where a platform of doctrine might be made, in which their disagreement re- specting the Lord's Supper — the only serious point of difference — might be adjusted. There is no trace of the exclusive, or jure divinOy theory of episcopacy, in the writings of Cranmer, Parker, Grindal, and Whit- gift, the first four Protestant archbishops of Canterbury. Whether Ban- croft broached it in his sermon at Paul's Cross, is still a controverted point; Hallam maintains that he did not. That this theory, which, in its logical consequences, would "unchurch" the other Protestant relig- ious bodies, and discredit the orders of their ministry, does not appear until about the time of Hooker, is granted by Keble in the elaborate es- say prefixed to his edition of Hooker's writings. It certainly sounds strange to hear Keble, all whose prepossessions were on the side of the High Church doctrine, charged with error for conceding what, if the evi- dence in the case had not required, he would surely have been very loth to admit. But Keble had carefully and thoroughly explored the histori- cal question, as his essay abundantly shows. The opinion of Protestants of the English Church in the sixteenth cen- tury on this subject was closely connected with two other facts which de- serve special attention. The first was the prevailing doctrine at that time that bishops do not constitute a distinct order in the ministry, but that bishops and presbyters are different grades of the same office. This was a common view in the Roman Catholic Church in the middle ages, since an ecclesiastical arrangement was thought to have the force of an institu- tio divina. The miracle of the Eucharist being the highest act which the 184 THE RELATION OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND clergyman could perform, and this being open to the priest, it was plausi- bly argued that there can be no order of ministers above him. This ground was taken, even by a Pope, Urban II,, and is sanctioned by the most orthodox of the schoolmen. Those who are curious to see the proofs of this statement may be referred to Gieseler's Church llutory (Am. ed., i. , p. 91, n.). The same fact respecting the mediseval opinion is proved in a work which has always been held in high honor by Episcopalians, Field's 'Treatise on the Church (b, iii. , p. 39),* Cranmer subscribes to this old opinion of the original and essential identity of the office of bishop and that of presbyter. He held that " in the New Testament there is no mention made of any degrees or distinctions in orders, but only of deacons or ministers, and of priests or bishops. " Thirteen bishops, with a great number of other ecclesiastics, subscribed to this proposition. See Bur- net's Collection of Records^ II., i. iii., 21.) Bishop Jewel, one of the great lights of the English Reformation, in his celebrated "Defence" of the Church of England, and in his " Apology," took no other ground. He falls back on the doctrine that " bishops are greater than presbyters by order and custom of the church, and not by the truth of God's ordi- nance." (Jewel's Writings, Parker Soc. ed., 1., p. 379.) f This is the * "These being the divers sorts and kinds of ecclesiastical power, it will easily appear unto all that enter into the due consideration thereof, that the power of ecclesiastical or sacred order, that is, the power and authority to intermeddle with things pertaining to the service of God, and to perform eminent acts of gracious efficiency, tending to the procur- ing of the eternal good of the sons of men, is equal and the same in all those whom we call presbyters, that is, fatherly guides of God's church and people : and that only for order's sake and the preservation of peace there is a limitation of the use and exercise of the same." Dean Field states that the Romanists themselves concede this, and adds: " Whereby it is most evident that that wherein a bishop excelleth a presbyter, is not a distinct power of order, but an eminency and dignity only, specially yielded to one above all the rest of the same rank, for order's sake, and to preserve the unity and peace of the church." That Dean Field is here stating his own opinion is made perfectly evident by the context. See, also, b. v., c. 27, where the same doctrine is laid down. f "St. Hierome saith generally of all bishops: noverint Episcopi se magis consuetudine, quam dispositioni^ dominiccB Deritate, preshyteris esse majores : ' let bishops understand that they be greater than the priests by order and custom (of the church), and not by the truth of God's ordi- nance,' If Christ, as St. Hierome saith, appointed not one priest above another, how then is it likely he appointed one priest to be, as M, Hard- ing saith, prince and ruler over all priests throughout the whole world ? " In another place, Jewel says: "Is it so horrible an heresy as he [Hard- TO THE OTHER PEOTESTANT CHURCHES. 185 explicit doctrine of Dean Field, in the passage to which I have just re- ferred. The second circumstance which it is important to notice, is the preva- lent belief in the system of national churches, and the adoption by many, of the Erastian theory of the supremacy of the civil magistrate in eccle- siastical affairs. The first Reformers in England were of this mind, and the English Reformation was effected under this theory. Calvin opposed it, and fought out the battle at Geneva in behalf of the right of the church, by its own organs, to excommunicate unworthy members. Cal- vinists generally resisted the Erastian doctrine in its extreme form ; yet they conceded to the magistrates of each country a large measure of power in matters of religion. The bishops of Elizabeth found it very hard, however, to yield up to their imperious sovereign that extent of control which she demanded ; as the suspension of Archbishop Grindal and many other events of like cljaracter illustrate. The main point here is that the Anglican divines paid a great respect to national churches and to the right of each country to frame its own church institutions, and to order its own church affairs. ing] maketh it, to say that by the Scriptures of God a bishop and a priest are all one." Then Jewel proceeds to quote Chrysostom, Jerome, and other fathers in support of the doctrine that they are the same. P. iii,, p, 439 {Defence of the Apology). Thomas Becon, chaplain to Cranmer, and Prebendary of Canterbury, writes, in his Catechism: '"'' Fath&r. — What difference is there between a bishop and a spiritual minister ? Son. — None at all : their office is one, their authority and power is one. And, therefore, St, Paul calleth the spiritual ministers sometime bishops, some- time elders, sometime pastors, sometime teachers, etc." The same doc- trine is in The Institution of a Christian Man, published by authority in 1537, Pilkington, the first Protestant bishop of Durham, writes in 1561 : '' The privileges and'superiorities which bishops have above other ministers, are rather granted by man for maintaining of better order and quietness in commonwealths, than commanded by God in his Word. Min- isters have better knowledge and utterance some than other, but their ministry is of equal dignity," (Pilkington's Works^ Parker Soc. ed-, p. 493,) The same doctrine is taught by Fulke, Master of Pembroke Col- lege. In Blunt's Annotated Prayer-Book^ the notes to which are from the High Church point of view, it is said : " It was not until the close of the sixteenth century that the distinction between the orders of bishops and priests was asserted. On Feb. 9, 1589, Dr, Bancroft, in a sermon, maintained the superiority of bishops /wre erforming our duty. Our zeal in defence of this prin- ciple has been such, as to occasion no small umbrage to some, who are attached to every feature and every phrase- ology of Calvinism. On this subject there is, in fact, a well known difference between our views, and those of some modern, as well as more ancient divines, who rank high on the side of orthodoxy." f All sin consists in the exercise of a disposition contrary to what the law requires." :|: " Sin in its highest sense is sin in the heart, that is wrong affection, corrupt inclination." § As to the time when sin begins, Dr. Woods remarks : ** I make it no part of my object in this discussion to determine pre- cisely the time when moral agency begins. There are diflaculties in the way of such a determination, which I feel myself wholly unable to sur- mount. My position is, that as soon as men are moral agents, they are sinners." ''It seems to me as unreasonable and absurd to say, that human beings are really sinners before they are moral agents, as to say that birds or fishes are sinners." | But, notwithstanding his caution in defining the date of incipient moral agency, he labors to disprove the negative position that sin cannot begin with the beginning of the soul's life. There is no difficulty in supposing them to sin from birth, and such he plainly indicates to be his opinion. T" In 1835, Dr. Woods published an essay on native de- pravity. Through a considerable part of this essay, he ad- * Letters, etc. (Boston, 1822), p. 32. We quote from the controversial papers of Dr. Woods in the original editions, and not in the altered form in which they appear in his collected works. t Letters, etc. (Boston, 1822), p. 95. % Ibid., p. 141. § Ibid., p. 305. i Ibid., p. 183. If Ibid., p. 305 et 304 THE SYSTEM OF DE. TAYLOR IN CONNECTION vocates the opinions which have just been described. He argues that infants may be capable of " moral emotions " of a sinful character from the start, inasmuch as the divine law is written on the hearty and therefore no instruction from without is requisite to render them accountable agents."^* He explains that he means bj their having the law written on their hearts, that they have " moral faculties and moral perceptions. " f They have fi'om the first " some feeble degree of moral affection " — some degree of " personal de- pravity." X " Children are in some small degree moral agents from the first." § Having pursued this line of argument, he makes one of the most remarkable transitions which we have ever met with in the course of our theological reading. He proposes a different hypothesis which he at first suggests as plausible and entitled to consideration, but which he proceeds to de- fend and avow as his own belief. Stated in his own words, it is that the depravity of man "consists originally in a wrong disposition or a comijpt nature, which is antecedent to any sinful emotions, and from w^hich, as an inward source, all sinful emotions and actions proceed." || There is an in- clination, disposition, propensity, or tendency to sin, existing prior to all m\iu[ feelings even, and out of that hidden foun- tain all such feelings, and all sinful choices and actions flow. This propensity to sin is itself sinful — the verj/ofis et origo malorum. Br. Woods quietly ignores his doctrine as to the nature of moral agency, and the nature of sin, and assumes the existence, back of all exercises, of a constitutional, innate, in- herited, and propagated propensity of which sin is the object. Turning back now to his controversy with Ware, we find the same doctrine less plainly suggested, and standing side by side with the Hopkinsian propositions which have been already noticed as making up the main part of that earlier discussion. There are passages in which he traces sin to * Essay, p. 147. f Il>id., p. 150. % Ibid., p. 155. § Ibid., p. 154 J Ibid., p. 158. WITH PRIOK NEW ENGLAND THEOLOGY. 306 what is "original or native in our moral constitution^'''*' "a uniformly operating cause or law of nature," passing from father to son like " the serpent's bite, the lion's fierceness," or " intelligence, gratitude, sympathy, or kindness," in the human soul, f This propensity is something distinct from the "natural appetites, affections, and passions," and is " itself sinful ; yea, it is what every one must consider as the very essence of sin." :j: In his essay, after advocating both these diverse forms of doctrine, in the manner stated above, he makes an attempt to unite them ; but it is unnecessary to trace his path in this unsuccessful enterprise. Besides the questions which have been specially noticed above, there is another great topic which could not escape the attention of the ]N^ew England divines. We refer to the permission of sin and the kindred questions which belong to the theodicy. This subject, as all know, was debated in the ancient heathen schools. It was elaborately handled by the scholastic writers, and by Thomas Aquinas in particu- lar. Differing from Scot us, who, like Anselm and Abelard, held that the present is the best possible system, Aquinas maintained, though in doubtful consistency with some of his own principles, § that we can conceive of the present system of things as amplified and extended, whence, indeed, a system in this sense better would result ; but within the present system we can conceive of no change that would not be an evil. Sin, in itself considered, is an evil, but, as related to the whole order of things in which it has a place, this is not the fact. Sin is not the direct means of the greatest good ; its proper tendencies are not good, but evil; yet, indirectly, as an indispensable condition, it is the neces- sary means of the greatest good. It follows from the per- * Letters and Reply, p. 159. t Ibid., pp. 158, 162. % Ibid., pp. 334, 335. § See, on the relation of this doctrine to the system of Aquinas, Rit- ter, Qesch, d. Christ, Phil, iv., 383. 306 THE SYSTEM OF DR. TAYLOE IN CONNECTION fections of God, from his omnipotence and benevolence, that it is good that evil exists. If sin did not exist when and where it does, the system would be damaged in other respects. Sometimes the schoolmen appealed to the princi- ple of variety^ and argued that virtue is set off advanta- geously by the contrast of moral evil, or that sin is useful as a test and purifier of the good, or that, without sin, forms of excellence — patience, for example — could never exist. Commonly they supported their denial of the divine author- ship of sin by the fallacious position which was borrowed from Augustine, that sin is a mere defect — is nihil. But their real doctrine is that sin is the necessary means of the greatest good. The old Protestant theology came to a like conclusion. It is the conviction of Calvin that because sin exists under the divine administration, in the system of which God is the author, we must suppose it preferable that sin should exist rather than not. It is this conviction in great part that leads him to deny that sin is barely permit- ted, and to maintain a volitive permission, and, in this sense, an ordination of sin on the part of God. Hence he has often been thought a supralapsarian, as if he held even the first sin to be an object of an efficient decree. But this is not his doctrine, as a careful study of the Consensus Gene- vensis, as well as of his writings generally, will demonstrate. He constantly falls back on the statement of Augustine, who is acknowledged to be sublapsarian, that God not only permits, but wills to permit, sin ; and he puts his whole theory into this sentence. Calvin's principles respecting the divine justice, as underlying all decrees and providen- tial action, clash with the supralapsarian scheme. He labors to repel the imputation that he holds God to be the author of moral evil ; yet, as we have said, he could not escape, as he thought, from the doctrine that it is good that evil exists.* This doctrine, that the existence of sin is to be * Not a few distinguished scholars, and among them, Gieseler, Julius Mtiller, Neander, and Baur, have supposed Calvin to go beyond Angus- WITH PEIOR NEW ENGLAND THEOLOGY. 307 preferred to its non-existence — ^that sin is the necessary means of the greatest good, passed into the ]^ew England theology. Hopkins is full of it. Bellamy advocates it in an elaborate treatise. He holds that this is the best of all possible systems ; it will be more holy and happy than if sin and misery had never entered it ; God could have kept all his creatures holy without infringing on their free agency, but the result would have involved a greater loss than gain."* Sin, " in itself and in all its natural tendencies," is " infi- nitely evil ; " t yet every sin is overruled " to a greater good on the whole." He says, and quotes Augustine to the same effect, that it is good that evil should exist. Dr. Woods in his controversy with Ware, had argued in a similar strain ; maintaining that the system is better than it would be if sin were not in it. When Dr. Taylor began his investigations, New England theology asserted a doctrine of natural ability, as the condi- tion of responsible agency ; it rejected imputation in every form ; but outside of the Hopkinsian school, it associated with this denial a vague theory of an hereditary sinful taint, or a sinful propensity to sin, propagated with the race — what Dr. Taylor termed " physical depravity ; " — and it vindicated tine in connecting the first sin with divine agency. Strong expressions seeming to favor this view, are in the Inst, iii., xxiii., 6, 8, and in the Respons. ad Calvm. Neb. {Works., Amst. ed,, torn, viii., p. 634). Bat this last tract is the work of Beza, for which Calvin is not responsible. Judging by the passages in the Institutes, without reference to other ex- pressions of Calvin, we should unhesitatingly agree with the interpre- ters above named. But, in other writings, as we have said, he plants himself on the Augustinian formula. His doctrine is that of a volitive permission. See, for example, Cons. Oenev. (Niemeyer's ed.), p. 230. That justice lies back of all acts of the divine will, is emphatically as- serted. See tom. viii. , p. 638. He says : ' ' Quanquam mihi Dei volun- tas summa est causa, ubique tamen doceo, ubi in ejus consiliis vel operi- bus causa non apparet; apud eum esse absconditam, et nihil nisi juste et sapienter decreverit," " Clare affirmo nihil decernere sine optima causa: quae si hodie nobis incognita est, ultimo die patefiet." * Works^ ii., p. 01 seq. f Ibid., p. 145. 308 THE SYSTEM OF DR. TAYLOR IN CONNECTION the introduction, or permission, of sin, by affirming that sin is the necessary means of the greatest good, and that the system of things is better with sin than without it. The aim of Dr. Taylor was to relieve New England theo- logy of remaining difficulties on the side of human responsi- bility. He could not regard the prevailing theology as con- sistent with itself or as successful in solving the problems which it professed to solve.* The fundamental question was that of liberty and neces- sity. There must be, on the one hand, a firm foundation for the doctrine of decrees, and universal providential govern- ment, and for the exercise of resignation, submission, and confidence on the part of men in view of all events ; other- wise, the Calvinistic system is given up. There must be, on the other hand, a full power in men to avoid sin and perform their duty ; otherwise, the foundation of accountability is gone, and the commands and entreaties of the Bible are a mockery. The true solution of the problem, in Dr. Taylor's view, is in the union of the doctrine of the previous certainty of every act of the will — a certainty given by its antecedents, collectively taken — with the power of contrary choice. Free- dom is exemption from something ; it is exemption from the constraining operation of that law of cause and effect which brings events to pass in the material world. If the antece- dents of choice produce the consequent according to that law, without qualification, there is no liberty. Yet Dr. Tay- lor did not hold to the liberty of indifference or of contin- gence, which had been charged upon the Arminians, and had been denied by his predecessors. He held to a connec- tion between choice and its antecedents, of such a character as to give in every case a previous certainty that the former will be what it actually is. The ground, or reason of this * See the letter of Dr. Taylor to Dr. Beecher (Jan. 14tli, 1819), written before Dr. Taylor became professor, and describing what was needed in theology. — Life of Beecher , i., 384. WITH PRIOR NEW ENGLAND THEOLOGY. 309 certainty lies in the constitution of the agent and the motives under which he acts ; that is to say, in the antecedents taken together. The infallible connection of these with the conse- quent, the divine mind perceives ; though we may not dog- matize on the exact mode of his perception. The precise nature of the connection between the antecedents and conse- quent, Dr. Taylor did not profess to explain ; but he held that the same antecedents will uniformly be followed by the same consequent. In short, he asserted that choice is a phenomenon sui generis^ not taking place after the analogy of physical events, but involving the power to the contrary. There is another species of causation, another category of causes, besides that with which we are made acquainted in the realm of physical phenomena. There are causes which do not necessitate their effect, but simply and solely give the certainty of it. Now, all admit that every event is pre- viously certain. It is a true proposition that what is to oc- cur to-morrow, will thus occur. No matter, then, what may be the ground of this certainty ; as long as the events in question are not necessitated, there is no interference with moral liberty. Augustinians and Calvinists, except the supralapsarians, had admitted the power of contrary choice in the case of the first sin, as well as in the case of the previous moral actions of Adam.* They erred, according to Dr. Taylor, in assum- ing that this power was lost, and that the continuance of it is incompatible with the actual permanence of character. * It is plain that Augnstinians are cut off from the use of three very common arguments against Dr. Taylor, The first is that the supposition of a power of contrary choice admits the possibility of an event without a cause. But they themselves make this supposition in the case of Adam. The second is that a choice, in case there is a power to the contrary, can- not be foreseen. The third is that the supposition of such a power would make holiness self-originated, or the product of creaturely activity. But is not this inference equally necessary in the case of Adam ? It will be understood that we are not engaged in expounding views of our own, but in explaining those of Dr. Taylor. 310 THE SYSTEM OF DE. TAYLOE Ei CONNECTION Rather, as he believed, is this power involved in the con- sciousness of freedom, and recognized as real in the Scrip- tures, as well as bj the common sense of mankind. The leading principles of Dr. Taylor's system may now be stated in an intelligible manner. 1. All sin is the voluntary action of the sinner, in diso- bedience to a known law. The doctrine of a " physical," or hereditary, sin, which had lingered in the New England the- ology, though inconsistent with its principles, and was de- fended by Dr. Woods and Dr. Tyler, was discarded by Dr. Taylor. In his doctrine of the voluntariness of all moral action, he agreed with the Hopkinsians. This, in truth, is the ancient, orthodox opinion, coming down from the days of Augustine. On this point we shall speak in another part of this Essay. 2. Sin, however, is a permanent principle, or state of the will, a governing pui^ose, underlying all subordinate voli- tions and acts. Stated in theological language, it is the elective preference of the world to God, as the soul's chief good. It may be resolved into selfishness. An avaricious man makes money the object of his abiding preference. He acts perpetually under the influence of this active, voluntary, continuous, principle. He lays plans, undertakes enterprises, encounters hazard and toil, under its silent dictation. A like thing is true of an ambitious man, a voluptuary, and of every other sinner. Each shapes his conduct in conformity with the dictates of an immanent, deep-lying, yet voluntary or elective preference — choice — of some form of earthly good. In its generic fonn, sin is supreme love to the world, or the preference of the world to God. It is a single princi- ple, however varied its expressions, and is totally evil. It is the " evil treasure of the heart." It excludes moral excel- lence, since no man can serve two masters. This profound conception of the nature of character is in its spirit Augustinian. Dr. Taylor held that character is simple in its essence. It is a principle, seated in the will, WITH PKIOK NEW ENGLAND THEOLOGY. 311 existing and continuing, by the will's consent, knowingly cherished, yet a fountain of action so deep that it rarely comes into the foreground of consciousness. Only in an hour of earnest reflection is a man's attention turned back to this governing purpose of his life. We regard this feature of Dr. Taylor's system as an im- portant contribution to theological science. That " disposi- tion," " propensity," " inclination," which had so puzzled his predecessors in New England, he defined accurately, and in accordance with the conceptions of moral agency which they had themselves laid down. 3. Though sin belongs to the individual and consists in sin- ning, yet the fact that every man sins from the beginning of responsible agency is in consequence of the sin of Adam. It is certain that every man will sin from the moment when he is capable of moral action, and will continue to be sinful, until he is regenerated ; and this certainty, which is abso- lute though it is no necessity and coexists with power to the opposite action, is somehow due to Adam's sin. In this sense, Adam was placed on trial for the whole human race.* On the relation of the sinfulness of men to the sin of Adam, Dr. Taylor agreed with the New England divines generally after the first Edwards. As to when responsible agency, as a matter of fact, begins. Dr. Taylor did not profess to state. He was not concerned to combat the doctrine of a sin from birth, though he did not hold it : if sin was correctly defined and the right doctrine as to the conditions of responsibility was held fast, he was satisfied. There is in men, according to Dr. Taylor, a bias, or ten- dency, — sometimes called a propensity, or disposition — to sin ; but this is not itself sinful ; it is the cause or occasion of sin. Kor is it to be conceived of as a separate desire of the soul, having respect to sin as an object. Such a pro- pensity as this does not exist in human nature. But this ♦ Repealed Theology^ p. 259. 312 THE SYSTEM OF DR. TAYLOR ESf CONNECTION "bias results from the condition of our propensities to natural good, as related to the higher powers of the soul and to the circumstances in which we are placed. As a consequence of this tendency or bias, there is a sinful disposition, or the wrong governing purpose before described, which is the cause of all other sins, ^'i^^^Z/^ excepted.* It is proper to say that men are sinners by nature, since, in all the appropriate circumstances of their being, they sin from the first. If a change of circumstances, as by trans- ferring them from one place on the earth to another, or from one set of circumstances to a more favorable one, would alter the fact and render them, or any of them, holy from the start, then their sin might properly be attributed to circumstances and not to nature. The certainty of their sin as soon as they are capable of sinning is the conse- quence of two factors, the constitution and condition of the soul (subjective), and the situation (objective). These together constitute nature in the statement, ^' we are sinners by nature." 4. Man is the proximate efficient cause of all his volun- tary states and actions. The Hopkinsian theory of divine efficiency is rejected. No man is necessitated to choose as he does. There is ever a power to the contrary. A sinner can cease to love the world supremely and can choose God for his portion. He not only can if he will ; but Dr. Taylor uttered his protest against what he considered a necessita- rian evasion, by affirming that " he can if he wonbtP He did not admit that the possible meanings of the question, Can a man choose otherwise than he does, are exhausted in the senseless tautology and the infinite series, into one or the other of which Edwards and his followers insisted on resolv- ing it. He did not admit that a man could properly be called fi*ee and responsible, merely because he wills to sin, provided it is assumed that his will is determined in its * Ibid., p. 194. WITH PRIOR NEW ENGLAND THEOLOGY. 313 action by laws like those which govern the association of ideas, or by a positive exertion of divine efficiency. 5. Inseparable from the foregoing assertion of a power to the contrary choice, however, is the doctrine of a moral in- ability on the part of the sinner to repent and convert him- self. He can, but it is certain he will not. His repentance without the help of the Spirit is therefore just as hopeless as if it were completely out of his power. To expect him to repent by his own unaided powers is not less vain, and so far not less irrational, than if he were destitute of these powers. " Certainty with power to the contrary " is a con- densed statement of the truth on both sides. Thus the sin- ner is both responsible and dependent — perfectly responsi- ble, yet absolutely dependent. It is just to require him to repent ; it is just to punish his impenitence ; yet his only hope is in the merciful and gi»acious help of God. 6. I^atural ability being a real power and not an incapa- ble faculty, there must be something in a sinner's mind to which right motives can appeal — some point of attachment for the influences of the law and the Gospel. Hence, the importance of the distinction between the sensibility and will, or of the threefold classification of mental powers, which Dr. Taylor was among the first to introduce. The writers before him had commonly followed the old division of the mind into understanding and will. By failing to distinguish carefully the involuntary part of our nature fi'om the will proper — the elective faculty — they had often fallen into a confusing ambiguity.* It is doubtful whether the doctrine of divine efficiency, or of a creation of sinful as well as holy volitions, would have come in, if the threefold classification had been sharply made. Such terms as incli- [*Dr. Ide subjoins to one of the Sermons of Emmons this note : " The terms will, choice, and volition, are generally used by Dr. Emmons as they are by President Edwards, in a general sense, including the affec- tions, desires, etc., as well as the executive acts of the mind." Emmons's Works^ new ed., vol. ii., p. 449.] 14 314 THE SYSTEM OF DE. TAYLOE IN CONNECTION nation, disposition, propensity, are used now of a choice and now of an impulse or tendency anterior to clioice. But a sinful man can be made to feel the force of truth, and this, too, without supposing him to be thereby in any degree holy ; for there -is a neutral part of his nature which truth can move. Hence, too, when he is commanded in the Bible to consider.his ways, he does not of necessity sin in doing go. This neutral part is the region of the sensibilities.* What is the particular feeling which may thus be ad- dressed ? According to Dr. Taylor, it is the love of happi- ness, or self-love. We are thus brought to the consideration of what has been deemed one of the most obnoxious features in his sys- tem — " the self-love theory." It has been so often misun- derstood that we shall give some space to explaining it. Dr. Taylor never held that love to God, or Ipenevolence, or moral excellence, however it may be designated, is a subordinate or executive volition dictated by the predomi- nant choice of one's own happiness. He never held that a man is first to choose his own highest happiness, and then choose the highest happiness of the universe subordinately. In the first place, Dr. Taylor believed, with a great com- pany of philosophers, from Aristotle to the present time, that the involuntary love or desire of personal happiness is the sub- jective, psychological spring of all choices.f Says Locke : * The existence of a neutral part of our nature, to which motives can appeal, is admitted by opponents of Dr. Taylor, in the case of holy Adam. See Dr. A. A. Hodge, Outlines of Theology, p. 237. f Says Augustine : " oranes istae et alias tales voluntates suos proprios fines habent, qui referuntur ad finem illius voluntatis qua volumus beate vivere, et ad earn pervenire vitani quae non referitur ad aliud, sed amanti per se ipsam sufl&ciat." De Trin., xi. 6. See also, De Lib. Arbit, I. , xiii. (Conf., X., xxi.) etc. It is the scholastic maxim, " quidquid appetitur, appetitur sub specie boni." But the doctrine is older than Augustine. It is the groundwork of Aristotle's Ethical discussion. See Nic. Eth., I., vii., and the whole first book of this treatise, Calvin calls it the common doctrine of philosophers, to which he gives his assent. Inst. , II. , ii. , 26. WITH PEIOE NEW ENGLAND THEOLOGY. 315 " That which in the train of our voluntary actions determines the will to any change of operation, is some present uneasiness ; which is, or at least is always accompanied with that of desire. Desire is always moved by evil, to fly it ; because a total freedom from pain always makes a necessary part of our happiness ; but every good, nay, every greater good does not constantly move desire, because it may not make, or may not be taken to make, any necessary part of our happiness ; for all that we desire is only to be happy." " All other good, however great in reality or appearance, excites not a man's desires, who looks not on it to make a part of that happiness wherewith he, in his present thoughts, can sat- isfy himself. Happiness under this view, every one constantly pursues, and desires what makes any part of it : other things acknowledged to be good, he can look upon without desire, pass by, and be content without. " He develops and defends this view at length, in his chap- ter on "Power," from which the preceding passages are quoted. President Edwards adopts the doctrine tliat the " will is as the greatest apparent good." " Whatever is perceived or apprehended by an intelligent and voluntary agent, which has the nature and influence of a motive to volition or choice, is considered or perceived as good; nor has it any tendency to engage the election of the soul in any further degree than it appears such." " To appear good to the mind as I use the phrase, is the same as to appear agree- able, or seem pleasing to the mind." Explicitly and many times, in connection wdtli these passages, he uses " pleasure," " enjoyment," " happiness," as synonyms of " good." * Even Bishop Butler says : * " In some sense, the most benevolent, generous person in the world, seeks his own happiness in doing good to others ; because he places his happiness in their good." Edwards's God's Chief End in Creation {iii., 38). He expounds this view more fully and emphatically in his Charity and its Fruits, pp. 232, 233. ' ' There 9,re two kinds of original good ; enjoyment and deliverance from Buffering ; or as the case may be, from the danger of suffering. These two are the only objects of desire to percipient beings ; and to intelligent beings, as truly as any others. When virtue itself is desired, it is desired only for the enjoyment it furnishes. Were there no such things in the universe there would be no such thing as desire ; and consequently no such thing as volition, or action." "A moral government is entirely 316 THE SYSTEM OF DE. TAYLOR IN C0N1!TE0TI0N " Every particular affection, even the love of our neig-hbor, is as really our own affection as self-love ; and the pleasure arising from its gratifica- tion is as much my own pleasure, as the pleasure self-love would have from knowing I myself should be happy some time hence, would be my own pleasure. And if, because every particular affection is a man's own, and the pleasure arising from its gratification his own pleasure, or pleas- ure to himself, such particular affection must be called self-love ; accord- ing to this way of speaking, no creature can possibly act but merely from self-love ; and every action and every affection whatever is to be resolved up into this one principle." "All particular affections, resentment, be- nevolence, love of arts, equally lead to a course of action for their own gratification, i. e., the gratification of ourselves; and the gratification of each gives delight. So far then it is manifest they have ail the same re- spect to private interest." In claiming that choice universally proceeds from a con- stitutional love of happiness, Dr. Taylor considered himself in agreement with writers on mental science generally, and he regarded the outcry against him on account of this doc- trine as mostly the offspring of ignorance. Dr. Taylor held that the object of choice is either happi- ness of some kind or degree, or the means of happiness. In the language of President Edwards, " volition itself is al- ways determined by that in or about the mind's view of the object, which causes it to appear most agreeable." But a broad distinction is to be made between the direct and the indirect means of happiness. That which is chosen as the direct means of happiness to the subject of the choice, is chosen for its own sake. If I love knowledge and pursue it, in order to gain money or distinction, I do not love knowl- edge for its own sake ; that is, I am after the happiness de- rived from wealth or fame, and not after the happiness di- rectly imparted by knowledge and by the pursuit of it. I love knowledge for its own sake, when it yields me delight immediately and independently of any relation of it to an ulterior end. founded on motives. All motives are included in the two kinds of good, mentioned above." — Dwight, Serm. Ixxx. (iii., 166). WITH PRIOR NEW ENGLAND THEOLOGY. 317 Universal happiness, or the highest happiness of the uni- verse, is one mode of stating the object of a holy or benevo- lent choice. Isow the highest happiness of every individual is indissolubly linked with the choice of this object and the pursuit of it as the chief end of living. That is to say, in the exercise of this choice there is a joy superior to that de- rived from anything else. From the object itself and the choice of it, as an immanent, voluntary preference, comes the highest happiness of which the soul is capable. Benevo- lence is the choice of the highest good of the universe, in preference to everything that can come into competition with it. But one's own highest happiness can never thus come into competition with it. Bather are the two — one's own highest happiness and that of the universe — in the nature of things inseparably connected. So that in the choice of the highest good of the whole, the choice of one's own highest happiness is blended. Virtuous self-love and virtuous benevolence denote one and the same complex state ; and one or the other term is employed, as the speaker has in view one or the other of its relations, viz., to one's own high- est happiness as depending on the highest happiness of the universe, or to the highest happiness of the universe as pro- ducing his own highest happiness. We are not vindicating Dr. Taylor's position, we are simply explaining it ; and without doubt a great part of the reproach heaped on him for his theory on this subject is due to the mistaken supposition that he considered benevolence, or love to God, a subordinate choice. * We may add that Dr. Taylor's unfortunate choice of the term " self-love," as an expression of his doctrine, was partly owing to a like use of this term in Dugald Stewart's Active and Jloral Powers. Hopkins's doctrine of disinterested be- * It is needless to add that Dr. Taylor considered the moral excellence of virtue — or the virtuousness of benevolence — to consist in its tendency to promote the highest happiness of the universe. In this he agreed with the younger Edwards (ii., 541), and with Dwight (Serm. xcix., iii., 439). 318 THE SYSTEM OF DE. TAYLOR IN CONNECTION nevolence, also, had led Dwight and other Anti-Hopkinsians to distinguish between uninterested and disinterested, and to call the innocent love of happiness self-love, in distinction from selfishness. It may serve to illustrate the comparative impunity from theological odium which is enjoyed by writers on philosophy, if we call attention to the doctrine, on the topic before us, contained in the recent able work on moral science by Presi- dent Hopkins, of Williams College. This doctrine is the same as that of Dr. Taylor. Dr. Hopkins holds that the de- sire of happiness has the same relation to the other desires as "that of consciousness to the several specific faculties of cognition." *' In this way it is that a desire of good enters into every specific form of desire, and that, as consciousness is the generic form of cognition, so the desire of good or of happiness is the generic form of all the desires."* '^A third peculiarity of moral good is that in seeking it for ourselves we necessarily promote the good of others." " By some it has been held that all virtue has its origin in a regard to the good of others. The true system is found in the coincidence of the two ; and that becomes possible only from the peculiarity of moral good now mentioned." f "It has al- ready been seen to be the characteristic of a rational being to act with reference to an end. But an end can be sought rationally only as there is in it an apprehended good,'' J But what is meant by a good? "As there is, then, no good without consciousness, which involves activity, it would seem that the good must be found in the activity itself, or in its results. But activity in itself cannot be a good. If it had no results, it would be good for nothing, and those results may be evil and wretchedness, as well as blessing. We turn then, in this search, to the results, in consciousness, of activ- ity. We are so constituted that any form of normal activity, physical or mental, produces satisfaction, enjoyment, blessedness, according to the faculties that act. Of these the conception is simple and indefinable, ex- cept by synonymous terms." " We say then that in the satisfaction at- tached by God to the normal activity of our powers, we find a good^ an end that is wholly for its own sake. We say, too, that it is only in and from such activity that we can have the notion of any satisfaction, enjoy- * Love as a Law, etc., p. 95. f Ibid., p. 188. X Ibid., p. 199. WITH PRIOR NEW ENGLAND THEOLOGY. 319 ment, blessedness, either for ourselves or others ; and that that form and proportion of activity which would result in our perfect blessedness would be right."* This doctrine is identical with that of Dr. Taylor. This agreement does not extend to all points in the ethical theory of the latter ; but on " self-love " and its relation to benevo- lence and selfishness, there is a perfect agreement. We may add that on the nature of moral agency, Presi- dent Hopkins expresses himself in entire harmony with the familiar principles of Dr. Taylor. The former says : " Man is responsible for his preferences, his choices, the acts of his will generally — for these and their results — and for nothing else." Responsi- bility cannot attach to spontaneous affections, but only to the choice of an end. ' ' There is a broad distinction between what is called, sometimes an immanent preference, sometimes a governing purpose, sometimes an ultimate intention, and those volitions which are merely executive, and prescribe specific acts under such a purpose." f " Character is as the governing preference or purpose — it consists in an original and thorough determination by a man of himself with reference to some end chosen by himself as supreme." X " The choice of a supreme end is generic. It is made once, in a sense only once. In a sense, too, it is made always, con- stantly repeated, since it is only under this that other choices are made. It is like the light of consciousness, and would naturally be the last thing investigated. Indeed, as consciousness is the generic form of intelligence, and the desire of happiness that of the desires, and love that of affec- tions, so the choice of a supreme end is the generic form of volition. It enters into all others ; they are made in its light and partake of its char- acter." § These are familiar propositions in Dr. Taylor's system. In pointing out this coincidence, however, we do not mean to detract in the slighest degree from the reputation of Dr. Hopkins as a fresh and independent thinker. 7. The exposition of Dr. Taylor's conception of the ele- ments of moral agency renders it easy to set forth his view of Kegeneration. The author of regeneration is the Holy * Love as a Law, pp. 51, 52. See, also, pp. 131, 190, 191. t Ibid, , p. 170. t Ibid., pp. 168, 169. § Ibid., p. 218. 320 THE SYSTEM OF DR. TAYLOR IN CONNECTION Spirit. The change that takes place in the soul is due to His influence so exerted as to effect that change in the sense of rendering it infallibly certain. It is a change of charac- ter. It is the production of love to God as the supreme ob- ject of choice, in the room of love to the world. But the change takes place within the soul ; and it is the man him- self who repents and believes, and chooses God for his portion. Hence, it takes place in the use of his natural powers, and in conformity with the laws of the mind. As a psychological change, it can be analyzed and described. To do this was a part of Dr. Taylor's design in his noted Review of Spring on the " Means of Regeneration." * He held that the at- tention of a sinner might be excited and directed to his duty, that the motives of the Gospel appeal to the instinctive de- sire of happiness, which underlies all choosing, that impelled by this movement of a part of his nature which is neither holy or sinful, but simply constitutional, a sinner could sus- pend the choice of the world as his chief good, which forms the essence of sinful character, and could give his heart to God. Dr. Taylor thus draws out analytically the steps of a mental change, giving them in the order of nature rather than that of chronological succession. 'Now a sinner is naturally able to make this revolution in the ruling princi- ple of his life. There is adequate power, and there is no ab- surdity in supposing that power exerted. But there is a moral inability, which constitutes practically an insuperable obstacle ; and this is overcome only by the agency of the Spirit who moves upon the powers of the soul, and induces, without coercing, them to comply with the requirements of the Gospel. 8. Dr. Taylor's doctrine on the relation of the introduc- tion of sin and its continuance to the divine administration, accords with the general spirit of his theology. Theolo- gians from Calvin to Bellamy had discussed the question as * Christian Spectator^ 1829. WITH PBIOR NEW ENGLAND THEOLOGY. 321 if there were only this alternative, the existence of sin or the prevention of it by the poicer of God. Holding that God was able to exclude sin from the system, and knowing that he has not done so, they proceeded to the inference that the system is better for having sin in it — that the ex- istence of sin, wherever it is found, is better, all things con- sidered, than its non-existence would be — that sin is the necessary means of the greatest good. In the first place. Dr. Taylor held that we are not shut up to the alternative just stated. There is a third way in which sin might have been prevented, and that is by the free act of the beings who commit it. To say that it was better for them to commit than to avoid sin, is, in Dr. Tay- lor's judgment, an unwarranted and false proposition. To say that it is better for them to be permitted to sin, as they do, rather than for them to be prevented from sinning by such a positive exertion of divine power as would be requi- site to effect this result, is another and quite a different proposition, which carries with it no dangerous conse- quences. It is not true, then, that sin is ever better than holiness in its stead would be, or that sin, all things consid- ered, is a good thing. But it may be true that the non-pre- vention of sin by the act of God is in certain cases better than its forcible prevention by his act. It is a question as old as philosophy, "Why did not God prevent the occurrence of moral evil ? Hume revived the ar- gument of Epicurus : Either God can prevent it and will not, in which case he is not benevolent ; or he will and cannot, in which case he is not omnipotent ; or he neither can nor will, in which case he is neither omnipotent nor benevolent. The Kew England theologians and other Calvinistic theologians had assumed that he can prevent sin, and had sought to vindicate his benevolence by assuming that it is good that evil exists. Dr. Taylor took up the question in answering skeptical objections to the benevolence of the Creator. The ground that he took in reply was this, that it may be im- 14* 322 THE SYSTEM OF DR. TAYLOR IN CONNECTION possible for sin to be excluded by the act of God from the best possible system. He did not deem it necessary to his purpose, which was to ward off an objection, to affirm that it is thus impossible ; but he modestly said that it may he. He did not say that it may be that God cannot exclude sin from every moral system, but only from the best — from that which will secure the largest amount of good on the whole.* He did not say that it may be impossible for sin to be excluded from such a system ; for he held that free agents might exclude it by abstaining from sin. He only said that for" aught that can be shown, it may be inconsis- tent with the nature of things for God, by His intervention, to exclude sin from that system which of all possible sys- tems is the most eligible for the good that it will secure. * [A more accurate statement would be that he did not deem it ^' ^- THEOKIES OF OEIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 363 Yet the soul is sinful, and without baptism will perish. How can this be ? He entreats Jerome to solve the problem. "Where did the soul contract the guilt by which it is brought into condemnation ? " In his book De Libero Ar- hitrio, he had made mention of four opinions in regard to the origin of souls — ^first, that souls are propagated, the soul of Adam alone having been created ; secondly, that for every individual a new soul is created ; thirdly, that the soul pre- exists in each case, and is sent by God into the body at birth ; fourthly, that the soul pre-exists, but comes into the body of its own will. A fifth supposition that the soul is a part of Deity, he had not had occasion to consider. But he had gained no satisfactory answer to the problem. Beset by inquirers, he had been unable to solve their queries. ]^ei- ther by prayer, reading, reflection, or reasoning, had he been able to find his way out of his perplexity.* " Teach me, therefore, I beg you, what I should teach, what I should hold ; and tell me, if it be true that souls are made now and separately with each separate birth, where in little children they sin, that they should need in the sacrament of Christ the remission of sin ; " " or if they do not sin, with what justice they are so bound by another's sin, when they are inserted in the mortal, propagated members, that damna- tion follows them, unless it is prevented by the church [through baptism] ; since it is not in their power to cause the grace of baptism to be brought to them. So many thousands of souls, then, which depart from their bodies without having received Christian baptism — with what justice are they condemned, in case they are newly created, with no preceding sin, but, on the contrary, by the will of the Creator, each of these souls was given to each new-born child, for animating whom he created and gave it — by the will of the Creator, who knew that each of them, through no fault of his own, would go out of the body without Christian baptism ? Since, then, we can neither say of God that he compels souls to become sinful, or punishes the innocent, and since likewise it is not right to assert that those who depart from the body without the sacrament, even little children, escape from damnation ; " i beseech you to say 7iow this opinion is defended which assumes that souls come into being ^ not all from that one soul * IV. — *' et ea neque orando, neque legendo, neque cogitando et ratio- cinando invenire potuimus. " 364 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL of the first man, but for ever?/ man a separate soul, like that one for Adam ? " Other objections to creationism, Augustine feels competent easily to meet ; but when it comes to the penalties inflicted on little children, he begs Jerome to believe that he is in a strait and knows not what to think or to say. " Magnis, mihi, crede, coarctor angustiis, nee quid respondeam prorsus invenio." What he had written in his book on Free- Will of the imaginary benefits of suffering even to infants, will not suffice to explain even the sufferings of the unbaptized in this life. " I require, therefore, the ground of this condem- nation of little children, hecause, in case souls are separately created, I do not see that any of them sin at that age, nor do I helieve that any one is condemned hy God, whoin He sees to have no sinP He repeats again and again this pressing in- quiry. " Something perfectly strong and invincible is re- quired, which will not force us to believe that God condemns any soul without any fault." He fervently desires from Je- rome the means of escaping from this great perplexity ; he would prefer to embrace the Creationist theory ; but on this theory, he sees no possible mode in which native, inherent depravity and the destruction of the unbaptized can be held, consistently with the justice of God. Such was the theology of Augustine. ISTo one can be charged with sin but the sinner. He knows nothing of guilt without fault. If there is no real participation in Adam's transgression on our part, he can see no justice in making us partakers of its penalty, or in attributing to us a sinful nature from birth. " Persona corrumpit naturam ; natura corrumpit personam." So the doctrine was summarily stated. In Adam human nature, by his act, was vitiated. That corrupted nature is transmitted, through physical generation, to his descendants. They acted in him — in another — and are, therefore, truly counted sinners, being sinfully corrupt from the beginning of individual life. This became the orthodox theology of the Western THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 365 Church. Where there were deviations from it in the Catholic Chm'ch, in the middle ages or subsequently, the attempt was always made to cover up the difference and to maintain a seeming conformity to the teaching of the au- thoritative Latin Father. As Augustine, more than any other human teacher, inspired the Reformers, so his doctrine on this subject was generally accepted without dispute. The pages of .the leading Reformers swarm with citations from him on this as on various other topics, l^or is this agreement with Augustine confined to them. Through the seventeenth century, after the doctrine of original sin, in a gi-eat portion of the Protestant Church, had taken on a new phase, still it was to Augustine that all appealed. There is hardly a Calvinistic WTiter of distinction in that age who does not fall back on his characteristic definitions, and seek by means of them to fortify the doctrine of innate guilt and depravity. Having pointed out the essential features of the Augustinian view, we might spare ourselves the trouble of showing in detail, by historical inquiry, that every theory at variance with it is modem and an innovation. Who does not know that the old Protestant, as well as the orthodox Catholic theology, was Augustinian ? But as our main design is to explain the origin of certain departures from this ancient and long- prevailing doctrine, we shall, as briefly as possible, follow down the course of its history. Anselm, from his mingled devoutness and intellectual subtlety, not less than from his chronological position, may be called the father of the schoolmen. As a theologian, until we come to the Angelic Doctor, he stands without a rival. In his able and ingenious treatise on original sin, which forms a kind of sequel to the Cur Deus Homo, he says, in agreement with the Augustinian theory, that when Adam and Eve sinned "The whole, which they were, was debilitated and corrupted;" not only the body, but through the body, the soul ; and " because the whole 366 THE AT7GUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL human nature was in them, and outside of them there was nothing of it, the whole was weakened and corrupted. There remained, therefore, in that nature the debt of complete justice " — that is the obligation to be perfectly righteous — '' which it received, and the obligation to make satisfaction, because it forsook this justice, together with the very cor- ruption which sin induced. Hence, as in case it had not sinned, it would be propagated just as it was made by God ; so, after sin, it would be propa- gated just as it made itself by sinning. " Thus it follows ' ' that this nature is bom in infants with the obligation upon it to satisfy for the first sin, which it always could have avoided, and with the obligation upon it to have original righteousness, which it always was able to preserve. Nor does impotence excuse it " — that is, this nature — " even in infants, since in them it does not render what it owes, and inasmuch as it made itself what it is, by forsaking righteousness in the first parents, in whom it was as a whole — in quibus tota erat — and it is always bound to have power which it received to the end that it might continually preserve its right- That sin pertains exclusively to the rational will is a proposition which Anselm clearly defines and maintains; and on this branch of the subject he gives to the Augustinian theology a precision which it had not previously attained. Augustine holds that native concupiscence, or the disorder and inordinate excitableness of the lower appetites, is sin- ful ; but he also holds it to be voluntary, in the large sense of the term. In the regenerate, the guilt (reatus) of con- cupiscence is pardoned ; but the principle is not extirpated. It does not bring new guilt, however, upon the soul, unless its impulses are complied with, or consented to, by the will. To these opinions the strict Augustinians in the Catholic Church have adhered ; but, laying hold of that distinction between concupiscence and the voluntary consent to it, which Augustine assumes in respect to the baptized, the semi-Pelagians, as they have been generally styled by their opponents, have afiirmed that native concupiscence is not itself sinful, but only becomes such by the will's compliance with it. At the first view, it would seem as if Anselm adopted this theory, and so far deviated from Augustine. * De Concept. Yirg. et Orig. Pec., ii. THEOKIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 367 Anselm declares that ^s sin belongs to the will, and to the will alone, no individual is a sinner until he is possessed of a will, and with it inwardly consents to the evil desire. " The appetites themselves," he says, " are neither just nor unjust in themselves considered. They do not make a man just or unjust, simply because he feels them within him ; but just or unjust, only as he consents to them with the will, when he ought not." The animals have these appe- tites, but are rendered neither holy nor unholy on account of them. "Wherefore there is no injustice (or unrighteous- ness) in their essence, but in the rational will following them." * This certainly sounds like " new-school " theol- ogy. But we find that Anselm holds fully to the propaga- tion of sin through seminal or spermatic corruption, after the manner of Augustine. He asserts, as we have seen, the existence of a properly sinful nature which is trans- mitted from generation to generation. His real theory would appear to be, that a wrongly-determined will, or a will already determined to evil, is a part of our inheritance. But he sticks to his sharply-defined proposition that sin is predicable of the will alone ; and hence he denies that sper- matic corruption is sinful. Sin is not in semine, but simply the necessity that there shall be sin when the individual comes to exist and to be possessed of a rational soul, f This whole theory turns upon the distinction of nature and per- son. The descendants of Adam were not in him as indi- viduals ; yet what he did as a person he did not do sine natura / and this nature is ours as well as his.ij: Thus, no fman is condemned except for his own sin. " Therefore, 'when the infant is condemned for original sin, he is con- demned not for the sin of Adam, but for his own. For if he had not sin of his own, he would not be condemned." This sin originated in Adam, " but this ground which lay in Adam, why infants are born sinners, is not in other parents, ♦ De Concept, Virg. et Orig. Pee.^ c. iv. f It>id-> ^-^^ X Ibid. , c. rriii 368 THE AUGTJSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL since in them human nature has not the power, that right- eous children should be propagated from it.* This matter was decided and irreversibly so far as more immediate par- ents are concerned, in Adam. It is Anselm's opinion, we may add, that original sin in infants is less guilty than if they had personally committed the first sin, as Adam did. The quantity of guilt in them is less. In this he does not differ from Augustine, who thought that the perdition of infants would be milder and easier to bear than that of adult sinners. The most popular text-book of theology in the middle ages was the Sentences of Peter Lombard. It held its place for centuries in the European universities, and there were few of the foremost schoolmen who did not produce a com- mentary upon it. It presents the doctrine of Augustine in its essential parts, with abundant citations from his writings. Sin did not spread in the world, it affirms, by imitation of a bad example, but by propagation, and appears in every one at birth.f Original sin is not mere liability to punishment for the first sin, but involves sin and guilt. That first sin not only ruined Adam, but the whole race likewise ; since from him we derive at once condemnation and sin. That original sin in us is concupiscence. Our nature was vitiated in Adam ; " since all were that one man ; that is, were in him TnaterialiteTP We were in him " materialiter, causaK- ter," or seminally. The body is wholly derived from him. It is the doctrine of the Lombard that each soul is created by itself, but is corrupted by contact with the material part which is vitiated in Adam. % He gives this explicit answer to the problem which Augustine declines to solve. The law of propagation, says Peter Lombard, is not suspended in consequence of the entrance of sin into the world ; and the corruption of the soul in each case is an inevitable re- ♦ Be Concept Virg. et OHg. Pec, c. xxxi. f Lib. ii., Dist. zxx. (Cologne, 1576). % ^i^* ^^'t ^^^' 2^^^.) xxxii. THEOEIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. suit of its conjunction with the body. Augustine, in the Encheiridion^ had admitted that the sins of more imme- diate parents as far back as the third or fourth generation, may be imputed to the child, but had not positively sanc- tioned this view. The Lombard argues that he could not have entertained it without inconsistency, since it would be in- compatible with his doctrine that the sin and punishment of infants are comparatively light.* He does not deny the position of Anselm that sin belongs to the will ; f yet he is careful to say that the soul on uniting with the body be- comes ipso facto corrupt ; since if an act of self-determina- tion be supposed to intervene, it would be actual, and not original sin. On the whole, his representations accord with what we have explained to be the idea of Anselm. We pass now to the prince of the scholastic theologians, Thomas Aquinas. This most acute and profoimd writer manifests caution in handling so difficult a theme ; but his conclusions, as might be expected, coincide with the dogma of Augustine. Aquinas says that " although the soul is not transmitted, since the virtus serninis cannot cause a rational soul," yet by this means " human nature is transmitted from parent to offspring, and with it, at the same time, the infec- tion of nature." :j: Hence the newborn child is made par- taker of the sin of the first parent, since from him he re- ceives his nature through the agency of the generative func- tion. No man is punished except for his own sin. We are punished for the sins of near ancestors only so far as we fol- low them in their transgressions. § The main point in the explication of original sin is the nature of our union with Adam. This Aquinas sets forth by an analogy. The will, by an imperative volition, bids a limb, or member of the body, commit a sin. Now an act of homicide is not imputed to the hand considered as distinct from the body, but is im- puted to it as far as it belongs to the man as part of him, * Lib. ii., Dist. xxiii, f Ibid., Diet. xlii. X Sum. Theol, I., ii. Q. Ixxxi., Art. i. § Ibid., Q. Ixxx., Art. viii. 16* 370 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL and is moved by the first principle of motion in him — that is, the will. Being thus related, the hand, were it possessed of a nature cajpahle of sin, would be guilty. So all who are born of Adam are to be considered as one man. They are as the many members of one body. " Thus the disorder (inordinatio) which is in that man who sprang from Adam, is not voluntary by the act of his own will, but by the will of the first parent, who moves ' motione generationis,' all who derive their origin from him, just as the soul's will moves all the limbs to an act ; whence the sin which is derived from the first parent to his posterity is called original : in the same way that the sin which is derived from the soul to the members of the body, is called actual ; and as the actual sin which is committed by a bodily member is the sin of that member, only so far as that member pertains to the man himself (est aliquid ipsius hominis), so original sin belongs to an individual, only so far as he receives his nature from the first parent." * Cajetan, the renowned commentator of Aquinas, under- takes to explain and defend the analogy. The descendant of Adam belongs to Adam, as a hand to the body ; and from Adam, through natural generation, he at once receives his nature and becomes a partaker of sin. The realistic character of Aquinas's doctrine appears strongly in the argument by which he attempts to prove that no sins but the first sin of the first man are imputed to us. t He sharply distinguishes between nature and person. Those things which directly pertain to an individual, like personal acts, are not transmitted by natural generation. The grammarian does not thus communicate to his offspring the science of grammar. Accidental properties of the indi- vidual may, indeed, in some cases, descend from father to son, as, for example, swiftness of body. But qualities, which are purely personal, are not propagated. As the per- son has his own native properties- and the qualities given by grace, so the nature has both. Original righteousness was a gracious gift to the nature at the outset, and was lost in * 8u,m. Theol., I., ii. Q. Ixxxi., Art. i. f Ibid., Art. ii THEORIES OF ORIGLNAL SIN COMPARED. 371 Adam in the first sin. " Just as original righteousness would have been transmitted to his posterity at the same time with the nature, so also is the opposite disorder (inordinatio). But other actual sins of the fii-st parent, or of other later parents, do not corrupt the nature, as concerns its qualities {quantum ad id quod naturcB est), but only as concerns the qualities of the person." * Original righteousness was principally and primarily in the subjection of the will to God. From the alienation of the will from God, disorder has arisen in all the other powers of the soul. Hence the deprivation of original righteousness, through which the will was subject to God, is the first or formal element in original sin, while concupis- cence or "inordinatio" is the second, or material element. Thus original sin affects the will, in the first instance. Its first effect is the wrong bent of the will. Aquinas's analy- sis of native, inherent depravity is substantially accordant with that of Anselm. The Reformers, as we have said, were Augustinians. As the imputation of Adam's sin was conceded generally by their Catholic opponents, as Pighius and Catharinus, at the same time that innate depravity, in the strict sense, was fre- quently denied, it was on this last element in the doctrine of original sin that the first Protestant theologians chiefly in- sisted. But the same realistic mode of thought — the same theory of a common nature corrupted in Adam — ^pervades their writings. In Calvin's representation of the doctrine, two propositions are constantly asserted. One is, that we are not condemned or punished for Adam's sin, apart from our own inherent depravity which is derived from him. The sin for which we are condemned is our own sin ; and were it not for this, we should not be condemned. The other propo- sition is, that this sin is ours, for the reason that our nature * Ibid., II., Q. Ixxx., Art. iii., iv. 372 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL was vitiated in Adam, and we receive it in the condition in which it was put by the first transgression. These propositions are so clearly set forth, both in the Institutes and the Commentaries, that it is hardly requisite to prove that he held them. But to remove all doubt on this point, and for another purpose which will appear later, we translate the following passages : " Observe the order here, for Paul says that sin preceded ; that from it death followed. For there are some who contend that we are so ruined by the sin of Adam, as if we perisJied by no iniquity {culpa) of our own, in the sense that he only as it were sinned for us. But the apostle expressly afl&rms that sin is propagated to all who suffer its punishment. And he urges this especially when he assigns the reason shortly after, why aU the posterity of Adam are subject to the dominion of death. The reason is, he says, that all have sinned. That sinning of which he speaks, is being corrupted and vitiated. For that natural depravity which we bring from our mother's womb, although it does not at once bring forth its fruits, yet it is sin before the Lord and deserves the penalty. And this is the sin which is called original. For as Adam at his first creation had received gifts of divine grace as well for himself as for his posterity ; so, separa- ting from God, he depraved, corrupted, vitiated, ruined, our nature in himself ; for having lost the image of God, he could only bring forth seed like himself. Therefore we have all sinned, as we are all imbued with natural corruption, and so are iniquitous and perverse." * Calvin renders his doctrine perfectly clear by the distinc- tion which he makes, in his note on ver. 17, between Christ and Adam. " The first difference," he says, " is that we are condemned for the sin of Adam not by imputation alone, as if the jpunishment of the sin of another were exacted of us: but we bear its punishment because we are guilty of the sin (culpae) also, in so far as our nature, vitiated in him, is held bound (obstringitur) with the guilt of iniquity." To the same effect are his remarks on Ephesians ii. 3 (" we are by nature children of wrath"). The passage, he says, confutes those who deny original sin ; " for that which naturally is in all, is surely original : Paul teaches that we * Com. on Roman, v. 12. THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 373 are all naturally exposed to damnation : therefore sin is in- herent in us, hecause God does not condemn the innoeenty " God," he adds, " is not angry with innocent men, but with sin. Nor is it a cause for wonder if the depravity which is born (ingenita) in us from our parents is deemed sin before God, because the seed which is. thus far latent, he discerns and judges." In full coincidence with these statements, is the chapter on Original Sin, in the Institutes : These two things are to be distinctly observed ; first, that being thus vitiated and perverse in all the parts of our nature, we are, on account of this corruption, deservedly held as condemned and convicted before God, to whom nothing is acceptable but justice, innocence and purity; for this is not liability to punishment for another'' s crime ; for when it is said that by this sin of Adam we become exposed to the judgment of God, it is not to be understood as if, being ourselves innocent and undeserving of punishment we had to bear the sin (culpam) of another ; but because by his transgression we all incur a curse, he is said to have involved us in guilt (obstrinxisse). Nevertheless, not only has punishment passed from him upon us, but pollution instilled from him is inherent in us, to which punishment is justly due. Wherefore Augustine, although he often calls it another's sin (that he may the more clearly show that it is derived to us by propagation), at the same time asserts it to belong to each individual. And the apostle himself most expressly declares (Rom, V. 12) that ' death has passed upon all men, for that all have sinned '—that is are involved in original sin and defiled with its stains. And so also in- fants themselves, as they bring their condemnation with them from their mother's womb, are exposed to punishment, not for another's sin but for their own. For though they have not yet produced the fruits of their ini- quity, they have still the seed mclosed in them ; even their whole nature is as it were a seed of sin, and cannot be otherwise than odious and abom- inable to God. Whence it follows that it is properly accounted sin in the eye of God, hecause there could not he guilt {reatus) without fault (culpa). The other thing to be remarked is that this depravity never ceases in us, but is perpetually producing new fruits, etc." * That sin has its seat in the will and that the wrong bent of the will is the sole obstacle in the way of the sinner's re- pentance, Calvin distinctly affirms. * Inst., I., I, S. 374 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL Turning to the Lutheran side, we find that Melanchthon defines original sin to be the corruption with which we are born, and which is consequent on the fall of Adam.* He says further : " If any one wishes to add that we are born guilty on account of the fall of Adam, I make no objection (non impedio)." f But he strongly objects to the imputation of the first sin, independently of our native, inherited de- pravity. Original sin, he says, is, in it?> formal aspect, guilt, or the condemnation of the person who is guilty ; but this relation pertains to some sin. The question, therefore, is, what is the proximate foundation of this relation, or as they call it, the proximate matter — materiale propinquum. The foundation of this guilt is the vice in man which is bom with us, which is called defects, or evil inclinations, or con- cupiscence." The imputation of the first sin is conditioned on — in the order of nature, consequent upon — this innate de- pravity. :j: Both elements, imputation of the first sin and inherent depravity are distinctly brought out in the Augsburg Con- fession, as issued by Melanchthon in 1540. Brentius, another leading name, among the early Lutheran theologians, exemplifies the prevalent realistic mode of rep- resentation upon this subject. " Inasmuch as all the pos- terity of Adam were in his loins, not for himself alone was he made an idolater in his own person, but he propagated idolatry to all his posterity, so that as many men as descend from him, are idolaters." " He drew with him the whole human race, which was then in his loins and was to be pro- pagated from him, into so great ruin, that it could neither entertain right sentiments respecting God with its mind or obey God with its will." § The Lutheran theologians were most of them, including Luther himself, traducians. Herein they differed from the body of the Calvinists. *Loc. Com. (Hase'sEd., v. p. 86). f Ibid., p. 85. X Ibid., p. 91. § Quoted by Heppe, Dogm. d. Deutsch. Prot. im \Qtn, JaJihr. I., 390, 391. THEOKIES OF OEIGINAL SIN COMPAKED. 375 We have now to inquire into the origin of the federal theory ? How did the doctrine of a covenant with Adam become connected with Augustinism ? The best histories of doctrine ascribe this innovation to Cocceius the celebrated theologian of Holland, Professor at Franeker, and then at Ley den, where he died in 1669. It is not denied that germs of this theory may be found scattered in the writings of theologians of an earlier date. It is seldom that a theory is absolutely new with him who fii'st gives it currency, and with whose name it is afterwards associated. But Cocceius has the credit not only of introducing the method of bring- ing the matter of systematic theology under the three cove- nants, but also of engrafting the conception of a covenant with Adam, as the representative of the race, upon Calvin- istic theology. There is no distinct mention of such a covenant, as far as we have been able to discover, either in the writers of the first age of the Reformation, or after- wards until near the time of Cocceius. There is no mention of such a covenant in the Augsburg Confession, the Form of Concord, or in any other of the p-incipal creeds of the Lutheran Church. There is no mention of it in the princi- pal Confessions of the Reformed Church, with the exception of the Creeds of Westminster ; for the Formula Consensus Helvetica, where the Covenant appears, is a creed of minor importance and of comparatively insignificant authority. We do not find the doctrine of a covenant with Adam in the First Basle Confession (1532), the Second Basle (or First Helvetic) (1536), the Gallic (1559), the First Scottish Con- fession (1560), the Belgic (1562), the Heidelberg Catechism (1573), the Second Helvetic Confession (1565), the Hunga- rian (1570), the Polish (Declaratio Thoruniensis, 1645), or the Anglican Articles (1562). Perhaps we shall best satisfy our readers in regard to this historical question, by referring to one or two authorities of great weight. The first is Weissmann, the learned Lutheran, who in his history of the church in the seventeenth cen- 376 THE AUGUSTmiAN AND THE FEDERAL tury, has entered into a somewhat full account of the rise of the federal theology. The federal method, he says, origi- nated with Cloppenburgius, a Franeker theologian, and was farther carried out by Cocceius. To these men it is chiefly due. From their time, the federal method spread in the Reformed Church, especially of Holland, so that the systems constructed on this model can hardly be numbered. " Among Lutherans," adds Weissmann, " this method did not find many favorers. Rather does Foertschius think, and public- ly teach in his Breviarium Select, Theol., that this method has not less inconveniences than belong to methods previ- ously used ; adding, that the federal doctrine, both respect- ing covenants and promises, as it is held among the learned and publicists, cannot be applied to theology, except by an abuse and perversion of terms." * In another passage, Weiss- mann sets forth the objections to federalism, which were brought forward by Lutheran theologians. Among them are the considerations, that the word covencmt in the New Testament is very sparingly used, and does not signify that which is here in controversy ; that in covenants and con- tracts respect is had to a benefit to be conferred on both parties, which, as far as God is concerned, cannot be here supposed ; that man previously owed all things to God, and, therefore, there is no need of a covenant and compact ; that the Mosaic economy alone partakes of the nature of a cove- nant-t Under the name of Cocceianism, were included a variety of opinions ; and the advocates and antagonists of this theolo- gian waged a heated conflict that agitated the Reformed Church, especially in Holland. Numerous opponents of Cocceianism who were actuated by hostility to the Cartesian philosophy, or to some other real or imaginary doctrine which came to be identified with the name of Cocceius, held to the ♦ Weissmann, Introductio in Memorabilia Ecd. Historic Sacrce^ etc., voL ii., p. 698 seq. t Ibid., p. 1103. THEORIES OF OEIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 377 theory of a covenant with Adam. Yan Mastricht, for ex- ample, was an Anti-Cocceian. Yet it remains true that this last theory found its way into theology, very much through the influence of the most distinguished advocate of the fed- eral method. A second witness respecting the rise of the federal theory, is Campegius Yitringa. In the text, and especially in the editorial notes connected with the text, of his system, is a very full statement of the history of this change in theology. For some time, says Yitringa, it has pleased divines to de- scribe the state of man in Paradise, by the term covenant, which they style the covenant of works or of nature, to dis- tinguish it from the covenant of grace. " That Adam lived in a state of friendship with God, and looked for a certain good under certain conditions, has been already shown. That this state can sano sensu, be called a covenant, is not doubted. /Still we must hold that in the Scriptures this des- ignation does not clearly aj[ypear^ unless^ perhaps, you choose to apply Ilosea vi. 7 to this relation rather than to the Mosaic history / so that the Bible malces no mention of the covenant : on the contrary, this notion is clearly presented to us, that God, as absolute and natural Lord of man, has treated him as a subject, of whose affection and obedience he desired to make trial. And it really seems that the notion of a cove- nant pertains to the economy of gra/ie ; both Scripture a/rvd reason favoring this view.'''' It is stated in the note, that the opposition to this notion by Episcopius and other Ar- minians, in which they were followed by Socinians, stimu- lated Calvinistic theologians to espouse and defend it with more zeal.* These last observations are deserving of especial notice. It would appear that the idea of the covenant of works was carried back to the Adamic constitution from the analogy of the covenant of grace, with which theologians were familiar ; * Vitringa, Doctrina Christ. Relig., etc., vol. ii., p. 341. 378 THE AIJGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL and the opposition of Arminians and Socinians tended to confirm and spread the innovation. The federal system was considered, at the outset, a soften- ing of Calvinism. Predestination was mitigated, in appear- ance at least, by this introduction of juridical considerations. Theology seemed to take on a more biblical cast. Hence the federal method was disliked by the Protestant schoolmen, as they were called ; that class of Calvinistic writers in whose hands theology, especially after the rise of the Arminian controversy, ran out into endless hair-splitting, according to a dry and rigid scheme, predestination being the central idea. But what is the covenant with Adam, as distinguished from the law of nature ? What is the nature of this posi- tive constitution ? The covenant is, in its essence, a. promise — a promise of such blessings, on the condition of obedience, as the rational creature is not entitled to by the law of na- ture. It is a gracious act on the part of God ; an act of condescension. He couples with obedience a reward wholly disproportionate to the creature's deserts — namely, eternal life. In this general definition all are agreed. In regard to more specific points in the definition, theologians vary from one another. The attaching of the promise to a brief term of obedience, for example, is sometimes regarded as one ele- ment in the covenant. But if we seek for the precise differ- ence between the provisions of the covenant and the princi- ples of natural and universal justice, which were of binding force, independently of it, we find this -difference to consist in the magnitude of the promise and in the appointing of a special test of obedience. Inasmuch, however, as this spe- cial test was a revealed law, and might have been laid upon Adam, had there been no covenant, the substance of this positive constitution lies in the gracious promise that is con- nected by the Creator with the law. Thus it will be seen that the covenant does not of neces- sity affect, the substance of the Augustinian doctrine at all. THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 379 The theory of the covenant may be accepted at the same time that the posterity of Adam are held to be really par- takers in his sin and guilt. The breach of the law and the breach of the covenant were one and the same act. If the posterity of Adam really broke the law in Adam, they broke the covenant also. Even on the supposition that they took part in the transgression of the law, and did not take part in the violation of the covenant, still Adam brings on them no condemnation which they do not themselves deserve by sin- ning in him ; they merely lose blessings to which they have, and could have, no title on the foundation of natural law. I lay a command upon a child. It is a reasonable command, and by the law of nature, I have a right to impose it ; and I have a right to affix a certain punishment to disobedience. But I freely promise that in case he obeys I will grant to him, and to his brothers also, some high and undeserved privilege. Now suppose him to disobey. They, as well as he, lose something ; but they lose nothing which the law of nature gave them. Suppose them, in some way, to partici- pate in his disobedience ; they, too, justly incur the positive penalty prescribed by the law, in addition to the negative forfeiture through his breach of the covenant. They suffer no greater penalty than they really deserve ; they lose a gi-eater reward than obedience would have given them a title to, apart from a special, gratuitous promise. The mistake of the modern defenders of imputation is in ignoring and denying the capital fact of a true and real PARTICIPATION IN Adam's SIN, which stiU formed the ground- work of the doctrine of original sin long after the federal theory came into vogue. They mistake history likewise, by ascribing their own purely federal view to the great body of Calvinistic theologians in the seventeenth century, who were Augustinians as well as federalists, holding to the second type of doctrine which we mentioned in the beginning — the Au- gustino-federal. There is another historical error of a kindred nature, 380 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL which pervades the Princeton discussions of original sin. These assume that the old Calvinists held to the immediate or antecedent imputation of the first sin — that is, tq the condemnation of men for it, independently of their native depravity. But with the exception of certain supralapsa- rians, the Calvinistic view was, that the ascription to men of the first sin, and the ascription to them of native, sinful corruption, are each conditional to the other. The first could not take place without the second, as an inseparable part or accompaniment ; and the order in which the two occur, is indifferent, as far as orthodoxy was concerned. This has been conclusively proved, and the error above stated has been fully exposed, in a series of learned articles, from the pen of R. W. Landis, D.D., which were published in The Danville Review. * As we do not care to do what has been so well done already, we shall have less to say here on this particular point. But having had occa- sion, before and since the appearance of these Articles, to traverse a great portion of the same ground, we can give an intelligent assent to this main position of the learned author. The proposition which we are now concerned to main- tain, is that in the prevailing theology of the seventeenth, as well as the sixteenth century, even after the covenant theory was adopted, the doctrine of participation in the first sin — the old groundwork of Augustinism — was stiU cherished. (1.) The most approved orthodox theologians of that age confirm this statement. From a throng of witnesses we se- lect one, for the reason that he is an acknowledged repre- sentative of the strict Calvinism of his times. The follow- ing passages are from John Owen : Of original sin, he says " that it is an inherent sin and pollution of nature, having a proper guilt of its own, mak- * In the Numbers from September, 1861, to December, 1862, inclusive. THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 381 ing us responsible to the wrath of God, and not a bare im- putation of another's fault to us, his posterity." * Answer- ing the objection that the first sin is not ours, is not our vol- untary act, he refers to the covenant, but adds : " That Adam, being" the root and head of all human kind, and we all branches from that root, all parts of that body whereof he was the head, Jiis will may be said to be ours. We were then all that one man,f we were all in him, and had no other will but his ; so that though that be extrinsical unto us, considered as particular persons, yet it is intrinsical, as we are all parts of one common nature. As in him we sinned, so in him we had a will of sinning.:}: Original sin is a defect of nature, and not of this or that particular person." " It is hereditary, natural, and no way involuntary, or put into us against our wills. It possesseth our wills, and inclines us to voluntary sins." § "If God should impute the sin of Adam unto us, and therein pronounce us obnoxious to the curse deserved by it — if we have a pure, sinless, unspotted nature — even this could scarce be reconciled with that rule of his proceeding in justice with the sons of men, ' The soul that sinneth, it shall die ; ' which clearly grant- eth impunity to all not tainted with sin. Sin and punishment, though they are sometimes separated by his mercy, pardoning the one, and so not inflicting the other, yet never by his justice, inflicting the latter where the former is not. Sin imputed, by itself alone, without an inherent guilt, was never punished in any but Christ. The unsearchableness of God's love and justice, in laying the iniquity of us all upon him who had no sin, is an exception from that general rule he walketh by in his dealing with the posterity of Adam." | The grounds of the imputation of Adam's sin to us are : *' 1. As we were then in him and parts of him ; 2. As he sustained the place of our whole nature in the covenant God made with him ; both which, even according to the exigence of God's justice, require that his transgression be also accounted ours." ^ " There is none damned but for his own sin. When divines affirm that by Adam's sin we are guilty of damnation, they do not mean that any are actually damned for this particular fact, but that by his sin, and our sinning in him, by God's most just ordination, we have contracted that exceeding pravity and sinfulness of nature which deserveth the curse of God and eternal damnation," "The soul then that is guilty shall die, and that for its own guilt. If God should condemn us for original sin only, it were not by reason of the imputation of Adam's fault, but of the iniquity of that * "Display of Arminianism," Works, x., 70. f •* Omnes eramus onus ille homo." — Aug. X Ihid., p. 73. § Ibid., p. 73. B Ibid., p. 74. 1 Ibid., p. 75. 382 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL portion hy nature^ in wJiich we are proprietaries.^'' * " The sin of Adam holds such relation to sinners, proceeding from him by natural propaga- tion, as the righteousness of Christ doth unto them who are horn again of him by spiritual regeneration. But we are truly, intrinsically and inher- ently sanctified by the Spirit and grace of Christ ; and, therefore, there is no reason why, being so often in this chapter (^Rom. v.) called sinners, because of this original sin, we should cast it off, as if it were concerned only by an external denomination, for the right institution of the com- parison and its analogy quite overthrows the solitary imputation." f One of the great arguments of the defenders of immedi- ate or antecedent imputation in our day is founded on the analogy of tlie imputation of our sins to Christ, and espe- cially of his righteousness to us. But Owen, like the old Calvin ists generally, supralapsarian speculatists being ex- cepted, makes a marked distinction between these various instances of imputation. This is evident from two of the passages quoted above. In his work on justification, also, he says : ' ' None ever dreamed of a transfusion or propagation of sin from us to Christ, such as there was from Adam to us. For Adam was a common per- son to us, we are not so to Christ ; yea, he is not so to us ; and the imputa- tion of our sins to him, is a singular act of divine dispensation, which no evil consequences can ensue upon." " There is a great difference between the imputation of the righteousness of Christ to us, and the imputation of our sins to Christ ; so that he cannot in the same manner be said to be made a sinner by the one, as we are made righteous by the other. For our sin was imputed to Christ, only as he was our surety for a time, to this end, that he might take it away, destroy it and abolish it. It was never imputed to him, so as to make any alteration absolutely in his per- sonal state and condition. But his righteousness is imputed to us, to abide with us, to be ours always, and to make a total change in our state and condition as to our relation to God," etc.J The combination of the Augustinian and federal theories, which is manifest in the citations from Owen, appears in the creeds of the Westminster Assembly. In the Confession, it is said of Adam and Eve — * '*Omnes eramus unus ille homo." — Aug., p. 80. \ Ibid., p. 71. X The Doctrine of Justification, etc. (Philadelphia ed.), p. 227. THEOEIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 383 " They being the root of all mankind, the guilt of his sin was imputed, and the same death in sin and corrupted nature conveyed to all their posterity, descending from them by ordinary generation." In the larger Catechism, we read — " The covenant being made with Adam as a public person, not for him- self only, but for his posterity, all mankind descending from him by ordi- nary generation sinned in him and fell with him in that first transgres- sion." The proof -texts which were attached to these statements, and were printed with the emphatic portions in italics, show most clearly that the Augustinian conception was side by side with the Federal, in the minds of the framers of these creeds. What they meant to teach is clearly set forth in the Brief Sum of Christian Doctrine^ which was issued by the authority of the Assembly. " God in six days made all things of nothing, very good in their own kind, in special he made all the angels holy ; and made our first parents, Adam and Eve, the root of mankind, both upright and able to keep the law within their heart ; which law they were naturally bound to obey, under pain of death ; but God was not bound to reward their service, till he entered into a covenant or contract with them, and their posterity in them, to give them eternal life upon condition of perfect personal obedi- ence, without threatening death, in case they should fail. *' Both angels and men were subject to the change of their own free- will, as experience proved, God having reserved to himself the incommu- nicable property of being naturally unchangeable. For many angels, of their own accord, fell by sin from their first estate, and became devils. Our first parents being enticed by Satan, one of these devils, speaking in a serpent, did break the covenant of works, in eating the forbidden fruit, whereby they and their posterity, being in their loins, as branches in the root, and comprehended in the same covenant with them, became not only liable to eternal death, but also lost all ability of will to please God ; yea, did become by nature enemies to God, and to all spiritual good ; and in- clined to evil continually. This is our original sin, the bitter root of all our actual transgressions in thought, word, and deed," * Plainly we have here the old doctrine of a nature, cor- rupted in Adam, and as such, transmitted to his posterity ; * Quoted by Dr. Baird, Eiohim Repealed, p. 41. 384: THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDEEAL the covenant idea being superadded, but not yet supplanting the Augustinian. Baxter, Goodwin, and most of the con- temporary Calvinistic divines, are full and explicit in the in- culcation of this same doctrine. (2.) The Placaean controversy and the publications conse- quent upon it, afford decisive proof of our position that the Augustinian idea of participation in the first sin prevailed among Calvinistic writers long after the acceptance of the covenant theory. The French school of Saumur, one of the Protestant academies of theology, had for its professors, after the year 1633, three men of marked ability and erudi- tion, Louis Capellus (Cappel), Moses Amyraldus (Amyraut), and Joshua Placseus (La Place). Before them, John Cam- eron, a Scotchman by birth, had produced some commotion by his doctrine in regard to the operation of grace, w^hich was that the spirit renews the soul, not by acting on the w^ill directly, but rather by an enlightening influence on the in- tellect. This was broached partly for the sake of parrying Catholic objections to the Calvinistic doctrine of predestina- tion and election. Cameron's theory did not mitigate this doctrine in the slightest degree, as was admitted so soon as his theory was understood. His substantial orthodoxy was allowed by those who withheld their sanction from the theory. The most eminent of his pupils was Amyraut. He boldly propounded the doctrine of hypothetical, imiver- sal grace, as it was called, which was really the doctrine of universal atonement. He maintained that there is in God, in some proper sense, a will or desire (velleitas, affectus) that all should repent and be saved. The decree of election fol- lows in the order of nature the decree providing the atone- ment. The attempt was made in two national synods to procure a condemnation of his doctrine, but in both cases it failed. He successfully defended himself, and proved that his doctrine was not inconsistent with the creed of the Synod of Dort. Cappel was a biblical scholar, and by his critical opinions in this department caused a commotion THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 385 only less than that excited by his colleague. He taught that the vowel pointing of the Hebrew text of the Old Tes- tament is an invention later than the Christian era, and clothed with no infallible authority ; and that the masoretie text of the Ancient Scriptures is open to amendment from the comparison of manuscripts and versions. Placseus is the one of these three disturbers of theological quiet, with whom we have to do at present. He was understood to deny that the first sin of Adam is imputed to his posterity, and to resolve original sin into mere hereditary depravity. At the Synod of Charenton, in 1644-5, Garrisolius (Garri- sole), the head of the rival school of Montauban, presided. In no small degree, through his influence, there was carried through the synod a condemnation of the opinion attributed to Placseus, although his name was not mentioned. This opinion was pronounced an error, and was declared to in- volve in peril the doctrine of inherent sin itself, since apart from the imputation of the first transgression, this doctrine rests on no secure foundation. Placseus did not consider himself to be at all touched by the decree of Charenton. He explained afterwards that he did not deny the imputa- tion of Adam's sin ; but only that this imputation is inde- pendent of, and prior to, inherent depravity. He distin- guished between mediate and immediate or antecedent im- putation. The former imputes Adam's sin not directly, but mediately — on the ground of our inherent depravity, which is its first fruit and effect. This depravity is first imputed to us, and then the sin from which it comes. When he made this explanation, Drelincourt, the distinguished Pastor of Paris, who had been a member of the synod and on the committee that drafted the decree, wrote to Placaeus an ex- pression of his satisfaction and confidence, saying that they had never intended to condemn the doctrine thus explained. That the doctrine of Placseus involved no serious departure from the current orthodoxy, was likewise conceded by other prominent theologians who at first arrayed themselves 17 386 THE AFGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL against him. While the matter was in agitation, and be- fore Placseus had corrected what he deemed a grave misap- prehension of his views, Andrew Rivet, a Frenchman by birth, but then a professor in Holland, prepared, for the purpose of counteracting the supposed error of Placseus, a copious collection of testimonies on the subject of imputa- tion. It is a collection of citations from standard creeds and numerous orthodox theologians. His prime end, as we have said, is to make it manifest by an appeal to authorities, that besides native, inherent depravity, original sin involves the imputation of the first transgression. These testimonies are very interesting and important for the light which they throw on the particular questions which we are here consid- ering. In former articles in the Princeton Review, the mis- take has been made of supposing that the design of Eivet was to assert the doctrine of antecedent or immediate impu- tation — that is to say, to maintain that Adam's sin is im- puted to us and made a ground of condemnation prior to, and irrespectively of, native corruption. This was no part of his plan. If it had been, his testimonies would have overthrown himself. For, as we have already remarked, if we count out a handful of supralapsarians, the general theory was that the imputation of Adam's sin and native de- pravity are inseparable, so that the one cannot exist without the other. Rivet is simply opposing the theory that original sin comprises no element but native depravity. Whoever held to a participation in Adam's sin, such as involves a legal responsibility for it, might put the elements of the doc- trine in whatever order he saw fit. • Here let us explain what we consider the real philosophy of imputation, as the subject was generally viewed. Some- times Adam's actual sin was said to be truly and really ours ; but this was not the common representation. That sin was the act of another : it is imputed to us, as far as its guilt and legal responsibility are concerned, because we were all jparticipes criininis. In a strict philosophical view, partici- THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 387 pation is the first fact in order, and the first thing to be proved. Take an ilhistration. A. B. is charged with a crime. Three other persons are accused of being accom- plices. Tliey did not do the deed — with their own hands fire the dwelling or commit the act of homicide. But they are charged with being participants, in the legal idea of the term, and therefore partakers of the guilt of the principal and liable to the same penalty. His act is imputed to them by the law. But before this is possible, \h^fact of partici- pation must first be established ; for on this fact their legal responsibility for the criminal act depends. Kow extend the illustration and suppose that this deed was the transgres- sor's first criminal act, and as such brought on him a corrupt character, or engendered, as it inevitably must, a corrupt principle. A principle of the same sort is found to have simultaneously arisen in the hearts of those whom we have spoken of as accomplices. But as they in their proper per- sons have done no criminal act, can this principle, in their case, be regarded as truly and properly sinful ? Kot unless they can be connected with the original act of wrong-doing, as accomplices or participants. Now it will be found that Rivet and his witnesses, when they insist on the imputation of the first sin, are contending against the idea that mere native corruption is the whole of original sin ; just as Cal- vin and many others deny that imputation is the whole. Both belong inseparably together. One may give the logi- cal priority to inherent depravity, provided he includes under it participation in the first sin, on which imputation ultimately rests ; and another may make imputation first, it being understood that participation is the condition of it. The fact (A participation^ by which the first act is both per- sonal and generic, and therefore ours in one sense, and not ours in another, is the point of coincidence between both views. The circumstance that participation is sometimes implied, rather than expressed, both by those who give the precedence to imputation, and those who give the precedence 388 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL to native corruption, occasioned some misunderstanding be- tween them, and has been since a fruitful source of misun- derstanding to their interpreters. But, as we have ah*eady observed, if we except a few supralapsarians, the fact of a true and real, though not personal, participation in the first sin, is everywhere held. Not unfrequently the true philo- sophical order, with participation in its proper place, is found in the writers quoted by Rivet. We may cite Parens as an example : '* Original sin, as well in Adam as in his posterity, includes these three deadly evils, actual iniquity (culpam), legal guilt (reatum) or the penalty of death, and habitual depravity or deformity. These concur in connec- tion with the first sin, simultaneously in the parent and posterity : with this difference only, that Adam was the principal sinning agent, admitting iniquity, meriting guilt, casting away the image of God, and depraving himself. All these things belong to his posterity by participation, impu- tation, and generation from a sinful parent. Thus it is a futile dispute of sophists, whether it was only the first iniquity (culpa) or only guilt, or only disorder, pollution or native vitiosity. For it is all these. Giving a broad definition, you may say it is the fall and disobedience of the first parents, and in them of the whole human race, in which all alike (pariter), the image of God being cast away, depraved their nature, were made ene- mies of God, and contracted the guilt of temporal and eternal death, un- less deliverance and reconciliation take place by the Son of God, the Mediator." " All are dead by the offence of one man. Therefore, the offence was the offence of all, but by participation and imputation." * Statements parallel with this of Parens might be quoted in abundance, f * Jtiveti Opera, t. iii. , 319. f That participation is an essential element in original sin, may be seen especially by reference to the passages, in Rivet, from Musculus, Viretus, Bucanus, Polanus, Chamierus, Mestrezatius, Whittaker (Professor at Cambridge), Davenant, Ames, WalsBus, Junius, Frisius, Hommius—who says, " Peccatum Adami non est nobis omnino alienum, sed est proprium cujusque, quod propter banc naturae communionem singulis hominibus non tantum imputatur, sed a singulis etiam est perpetratum " — Lauren- tius, Zanchius, Piscator, Textor, Crocius, Bucer, Chemnitz (the author of the Examen. Cone. Trid ). Compare the two Dissertations on Original Sin by Bivet himself, Disput. II. (t. iii., p. 747), and the Theses Theolog. THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 389 What lias been said will prepare us to comprehend the Placsean controversy. Having made a careful examination of the writings of Placaeus, we feel competent to state what his views really were. His great aim was to confute the doctrine of immediate or antecedent imputation. He was at first understood to deny participation, but this misunder- standing, as was said above, he corrected. His opinions are expressed, prior to the Synod of Charenton, in the Theses Salmu7*enses.'^ God, he says, counts no man a sinner who is not truly so. Either Adam's actual sin is imputed to us, or our original, inherent depravity. The former cannot be proved from the Bible. AYe sinned in Adam, as we died in him. Human nature was in Adam, generically the same as in us, but numerically distinct from human nature in us con- sidered as persons. Hence our sin is the same generically, but not numerically with his. K he was appointed to obey or disobey instead of us, why not to be punished instead of us, also ? If his first actual sin was ours, why not his act of generating Cain or Seth ? The true doctrine is that of seminal corruption. The sensitive soul — the animal soul — is produced from the parent; the intellectual or rational soul is directly created. The soul on entering the corrupted physical nature, is not passively corrupted, but becomes cor- rupt actively, accommodating itself in character to the other part of human nature ; as water, by an appetency of its OTf^Ti, takes the form of the bowl into which it is poured. In the copious treatise on Imputation, which he wrote after the action of the synod, he develops his system with great fulness and likewise with great ability. f The report de pec. orig. (t. iii,, p. 824). In the former, sections x. — xvi. (inclusive) and xxiv. deserve particular attention ; in the latter, sections 5, 20, 23, 25, 27, 28, 29, 83, 34, 42. * Syntagma Thes. TheoLog. in Acad. Salm., etc. Edit. Secunda., Pt. i., 205 seq. f Placaei, Opera Omnia : Edito novissima : Franequer. De Imp. primi pec. AdamiUiispuLy etc. Tom i., p. 161 seq. 390 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL tliat his doctrine had been condemned by the synod, he says, had been eagerly caught up by those unfriendly to Saumur. * But the terms of their decree did not touch him. The decree did not condemn those who restrict original sin to inherent depravity, but those who so restrict it to inherent depravity as to deny the imputation of Adam's first sin. f This he does not deny. He holds to imputation, but to mediate, not immediate imputation.ij: Adam's first actual sin is imputed to us in the sense that it is the cause of our guilt by causing our depravity, and further as our inherent sin involves and implies a consent to his first transgression.§ In defence of the propriety of using the term " imputation " to designate this view, he appeals to Romans ii. 27 : " If the uncircumcision keep the righteousness of the law, shall not his uncircumcision be counted for circumcision." || He holds that we participate in Adam's sin, and habitually con- sent thereto at the outset of our personal life. It may be truly said that we were in the loins of Adam, and sinned in him and with him.^f The sin of Adam is communicated to us by propagation. The corruption that followed Adam's first actual sin is imputed to us as passing over to us — idem specie — Adam communicating at once sin and nature.** He appeals to Calvin, to Gualter, to Chamier, to Eivet, in sup- port of his doctrine as to the difference in the mode of the imputation of Adam's sin and Christ's righteousness.-t-f The analogy of Christ's relation to us proves nothing in favor of immediate imputation. Our sins are not imputed to Christ as their author, but as a surety ; but Adam's sin is imputed to us as its authors. The one is of grace, the other on the ground of desert. P;. But our own faith is the necessary condition of justification, just as our intermediate depravity is the necessary prerequisite of the imputation of * De Imp. primipee, Adami Disput, etc. Tom. i., p. 163. t Ibid., p. 176. t Ibid., p. 173. § Ibid., pp. 179, 284, 286. I Ibid., p. 284. IF Ibid., p. 188. ** Ibid., p. 198. ft Ibid., pp. 195, 198, 201, 206. U Ibid., p. 185. THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 391 Adam's sin. He contends that his antagonist, Garrisole, ad- mits everything that is essential to the Placsean doctrine. For lie allows that the guilt of Adam's first sin and of inher- ent depravity are one and the same guilt. There are not two guilts, or guiltinesses, but only one. Placgeus claimed that his conception of the subject is iden- tical with that of Calvin. He could appropriate the lan- guage of Calvin in the Institutes and in the Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans, as a faithful description of his doctrine. It appeared at first to the opponents of Placaeus, as we have more than once remarked, that he had dropped the idea of participation in the first sin ; but this was simply because he dwelt so much on seminal corruption and the law of propagation, according to which depravity passes from father to son. But Anselm and Calvin might have been at- tacked with as much justice as Placaeus. This attack on Placaeus is an indication that the doctrine of original sin was in danger of being removed from its Augustinian foundation. One of the most active opponents of the doctrines of the Saumur professors was Francis Turretine. Though he had studied at Saumur as well as at Paris, he allied himself with the more rigid theologians of Montauban. He became the head of a party at Geneva, which labored to procure the con- demnation of the Saumur views by the Swiss Church. Op- posed to this party at Geneva were Mestrezat and Louis Tronchin, colleagues of Turretine, and other theologians of a liberal and tolerant spirit. Turretine and his party at length effected a partial success by securing the promulgation and partial enforcement, for a time, in Switzerland, of the Formu- la Consensus Helvetica^ which they took the lead in framing. They were not deterred from this step by the remonstrance of eminent ministers of foreign churches, among whom were the Paris pastors, the younger Daille, and the famous Claude, together with the distinguished theologian of Holland, J. R. Wetstein. Turretine and the party to which he belonged professed to regard with charity and toleration the ministers 392 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL who differed from tliem on the points of theology to which the Conseiisus relates ; they were only anxious to keep the Swiss Church free from erroneous teaching. Their creed is levelled at the peculiar doctrines of each of the three Saumur professors. Against Capi^el, they go so far as to assert the inspiration of the Hebrew vowel points in the Old Testament, and to condemn, also, his critical views respecting the Hebrew text — thus givuig their solemn sanction to the Buxtorllan grammar and criticism ! Having demolished Capellus, the Consensus condemns Amyraldism — universal atonement and the doctrine that God desires the salvation of all. Amyraut's doctrine of universal grace is carefully defined and denounced. Then the Placsean doctrine, or the doctrine which Tm-retine persisted in ascribing to Placseus, is put under the ban. The Consensus never acquired authority outside of Switzerland. Within about fifty years it was abrogated. One of the strong- est advocates of this last measure was Turretine's own son, Alphonso Turretine, who was as zealous in opposing as his father had been in advocating it.* If there was ever a creed which deserves to be called the manifesto of a theological party, rather than a confession of faith on the part of the church, the Formula Consensus is that one. And yet we have seen this partisan document, with its not only verbal but lit- eral inspiration, according to the grammar of Buxtorf, quoted side by side with passages from the Augsburg Confession and the Heidelberg Catechism ! * In a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, the younger Turretine says that the Consensus would exclude from the ministry many excellent ministers of God ; almost all the doctors of the first four centuries and a great number of ages following ; almost all of the Reformers, a great part of the reformed theologians of France, and the ablest among them ; a great portion of the German theologians, and almost all the theologians of the English church. This letter may be read in the Supplement to Bayle^s Dictionary by Chauseppie — Art. " Louis Tronchin," Note C. The earlier letter of F. Turretine to Claude, ou the other side, is in curious contrast with the sen- timents of hia son. This may also be read in Chauseppie. THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 393 But even the Formula Consensus Helvetica associates with the theory of the covenant that of a real participation in the first sin. It affirms that prior to actual sin, man is exposed to the divine wrath for a double reason, " first, on account of the irdpaiTTOD^a and disobedience which he committed in the loins of Adam ; then by reason of the consequent hereditary corruption, introduced at his very conception, by which his whole nature is depraved and spiritually dead." If we turn to the Institutes of Turretine, which was pub- lished in the last quarter of the seventeenth century, and when the antagonism to Placseus had produced its full effect in determining the form of theology on this subject, we see, indeed, vestiges of the genuine Augustinian doctrine, but we see also that this is well-nigh supplanted. Turretine leans strongly to the supralapsarian philosophy, which explains moral phenomena by reference to the w^ill of God, as the ul- timate foundation, rather than his immutable justice. The doctrine of immediate or antecedent imputation coheres with that system, and was espoused by its advocates. In their view, it is sufficient that God determines to consider one guilty if another sins. His determination to establish such a constitution makes it just. There is one word in Turretine's discussion of imputation which is quite significant as mark- ing the doctrinal transition which we are attempting to sketch. He founds imputation on our natural union with Adam, as the father and root of the race, and on the federal union with him, our appointed representative. " The foun- dation, therefore, of imputation is not only the natural union w^hich comes in between us and Adam — otherwise all his sins would have to be imputed to us, but chiefly the mm^al and federal^ by which God framed a covenant with him as our head." * It is chiefly-^"^flg^w6 " — the covenant relation on which the justice and propriety of imputation are made to rest. At the same time there are passages in this author * InsiituteB, P. L Loc. IX., Q. IX, xi. 17* 394 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL which go beyond the more modem theory of immediate im- putation and in the direction of Augustinism. He declares, in arguing against Placseus, that the orthodox doctrine holds to both sorts of imputation, immediate and mediate ; imply- ing that they are inseparable. He says : "In the propaga- tion of sin, the accident does not pass from subject to sub- ject " — that is, sin does not go from person to person — " be- cause the immediate subject of sin is not the person, but human nature, vitiated by the actual transgression of the person, which being communicated to the posterity of Adam, this inherent corruption is communicated in it. As, there- fore, in Adam, person infected nature, so, in his posterity, nature infects person." ^ Sin is transmitted — handed down. But sin is not a substance, it is an accident. Hence it inheres in something. It inheres not in the person, but in the natu7'e, which being corrupted in Adam, passes down to his descend- ants. Alluding to Hebrews vii. 9 — " Levi, also, who receiv- eth tithes, paid tithes in Abraham " — Turretine denies that it is to be figuratively taken. It is to be taken in the proper sense. Abraham in that solemn action sustained the person of Levi or of the Aaronic sacerdotal order that was to spring from him ; and this he did properly and truly, though his other relations — his faith, for example — were merely per- sonal.f Apart from the supposed scriptural foundation for the theory of the covenant, it is easy to account for the spread of it, and for its displacement of the Augustinian idea. The old difficulty growing out of the origin of souls by separate acts of creation, which was the accepted hypothesis among Calvinists, was felt with. ever-increasing force. In particu- lar, the covenant theory suggested a plausible mode of meet- ing two objections to the doctrine of original sin in its ancient form. One thing which had not been satisfactorily explained was the non-imputation of other sins of Adam, besides the * Institutes, P. L, Loc. IX., Q. X., xxii. f Ibid., Q. IX., xxv. THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 395 first, not to speak of all his other actions, to his posterity. If we participated responsibly in the first sin, why not in his subsequent acts also ? The other fact that demanded expla- nation was the non-imputation of the sins of nearer ances- tors, even of all mankind, to each individual. The theory of a common nature, when taken as a sufficient explication of the subject, was attended with these difficulties. The solution had been commonly sought in the hypothesis th^t all acts of Adam subsequent to the first, as well as the acts of nearer kindred, are phenomenal, personal. That act alone corrupted the nature. But the covenant, it was thought, furnished an easier and better answer. The covenant, by its terms, turned upon the conduct of Adam for a limited pe- riod, and one act of sin on the part of Adam forfeited all its privileges and brought upon mankind the judicial forfeiture. It is true that the difficulty remained until the fundamental principle of Augustine was wholly given up. How can man- kind, it might still be asked, participate in the first act alone ? For it was still the prevailing view, throughout the seven- teenth century, among adherents of the covenant theology, with the exception of supralapsarians, that in that first sin there was a true and proper participation. It seems to have been long felt by theologians that the covenant would not answer of itself, without the doctrine of real participation, in confronting objections to imputation and native depravity ; and yet the two props were hardly congruous with one an- other. When the justice of imputation on the ground of a federal relation was called in question, they fell back on the theory of participation ; but when asked why all the actions of Adam are not imputed to us, they pleaded the covenant. The process of supplanting the Augustinian theory was consummated in the eighteenth century. But Calvinistic theology in England, having nothing but the covenant to rest upon, fomid itself in the hapless plight which is de- scribed by the younger Edwards in his account of the state of things when his father began his labors. To illustrate 396 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL the half-hearted tone and helpless situation of the represen- tatives of Calvinistic doctrine, we have only to refer to three of the most conspicuous of them, Ridgelej, Dodd- ridge, and Watts. Eidgeley says that Adam's sin is ours only in a forensic sense.* He considers how the imputa- tion of it can be justified. 1. It is said : " If Adam had not fallen, we should be content with the arrangement." Xhis, replies Eidgeley, is not a sufiicient answer. 2. If his posterity had existed, the law of nature would have directed them to choose Adam for their representative, he being the common father. This answer, says Ridgeley, "bids fairer to remove the difficulty," but does not wholly remove it. 3. God chose Adam to be our representative, and we ought to acquiesce. But this, Eidgeley replies, will not satisfy the objector ; it puts the sovereignty of God, he will say, against his other perfections. Eidgeley comes to the conclusion that the guilt of men for Adam's sin cannot be so great as the guilt we contract by actual sins.f Here he takes up an opinion which the schoolmen and later Eoman Catholics had avowed, but which the old Protestant theology had looked upon with disfavor. The punishment of infants, Eidgeley thinks, will be the mildest of any. Accusations of conscience will not belong to those who have no sin save original sin. How we can be properly sinful at birth is the point which Eidgeley, even with the help of the covenant, is obviously puzzled to explain. According to Doddridge, men are bom with evil propen- sities ; but the difficulty of supposing this " is considerably lessened " if we suppose that things are so constituted upon the' whole as that a man is not necessa/rily impelled to any actions which shall end iti his final destruction." % What re- mains of the difficulty, says Doddridge, is the same under other schemes as under the scheme of Christianity. The * These citations are from the Am. ed. of Ridgeley's Syf^tem, vol. i. f Ibid., p. 141. X Doddridge's Lectures, Prop. 133, SchoL 3. THEOEIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 397 sin of Adam is, " in some degree," imputed to his poster- ity.* The covenant with Adam is, " in some measure," for his posterity, t '^ It may seem probable'''' that the posterity of Adam would have been advantaged by his obedience, but to what extent we cannot say.:j: One rational creature, we may be certain, will not be made finally and eternally miserable for the sin of another. What the state of those who die in infancy is, we know not. Watts afiirms that the fact of infants being the descend- ants of Adam will not account for their miseries and their death. We must also suppose that he is our legal represen- tative. Of this theory of representation, Watts naively ob- serves : " I must confess I am not fond of such a scheme or hypothesis." "No! I would gladly renounce it," "if I could find any other way " to vindicate Providence. § The appearance of injustice, in one man's making millions of men sinners, is relieved, " in some meojsure^'' if Adam is regarded as our natural head. Legal representation will " do much " towards removing all remaining appearance of injustice.]! Watts tries to answer the objection that we did not consent to this representation by Adam. 1. A noble- man, when guilty of treason, disgraces and impoverishes his descendants as well as himself. 2. God bestows bless- ings on children and deprives them of privileges on account of parents' sins. 3. The appointment of Adam, with his advantages for remaining upright, was a very advantageous thing for his posterity. Souls are separately created, but are defiled by entering corrupt bodies. This transmission of sin, says Watts, is the greatest difficulty in the doctrine. It would not be just to jpunish infants eternally. ^^ The in- fant children of wicked men, he thinks, are annihilated at death.** * Doddridge's Lectures, p. 413 (London ed., 1763). f Ibid., p. 414. X Ibid., p. 414. ^ Works, vl, 224, 225. i Ibid., p. 235. T[ Ibid., p. 309. ** Ibid., pp. 309, 314. 398 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL Into tills plight were candid and excellent men brought by their federal theology. Such timid theolognes were an easy prey to their Arminian assailants. Doubtless it is to Watts and Doddridge that President Edwards refers, to- wards the end of his treatise on original sin, where he con- futes the opinion of "two divines of no inconsiderable note among the Dissenters of England, relating to 2i. partial irrvputation of Adam's sin." President Edwards fell back on what was substantially the old doctrine of original sin. In reading his discussion we seem to be carried back to Aquinas and Augustine. His original speculations are to support this doctrine, but they do not materially modify it. It is true that he calls Adam our federal head, but the covenant is only " a sovereign, gracious establishment," going beyond mere justice, and promising rewards to Adam and his posterity, in case he should obey, to which neither he nor they could lay claim.''*" What he attempts to make out is a true and real participa- tion in the first sin. The human species rebelled against God, and that act, as far as the morality of it is concerned, is ours not less than Adam's. There is a consent to it, or a concurrence in it, on our part. The first rising of a sinful inclination is this consent and concurrence ; and our guilt for this first rising of sinful inclination is identical with our guilt for Adam's sin. There is not a double guilt, as if two things were " distinctly imputed and charged upon men in the sight of God." We really constitute with Adam one complex person — one moral whole ; as truly so as if we co- existed with him in time^ and were physically united to him as the members of the body are to the head. " The first existing of a corrupt disposition is not to be looked upon as sin distinct from their participation of Adam's first sin. It is as it were the extended pollution of that sin through the whole tree, by virtue of the constituted union of the * Edwards's (D wight's ed.), ii., 543. THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 399 branches with the root ; or the inherence of the sin of that head of the species in the members, in their consent and concurrence with the head in that first act." * In saying that this is a constituted union, Edwards does not mean that it is artificial, unreal, or merely legal. It depends, to be sure, on the will of God, but not more so than does the ac- cepted fact of personal identity. It is a divine constitu- tion, but it is natural — a constitution of nature. The first depravity of heart and the imputation of Adam's sin, " are both the consequences of that established union ; but yet in such order that the evil disposition i^ first, and the charge of guilt consequent, as it was in the case of Adam himself." Depravity, as an established principle, unlike the^r^^ rising of depravity in the soul, " is a consequence and punishment of the first apostasy thus participated, and brings new guilt." Our share in the first sin is really the same as if we were parts of Adam, " all jointly participating and all concur- ring, as one whole, in the disposition and action of the head." It will be seen that the conception of Edwards is very like that of Aquinas. One original point in Edwards's explication of the subject is the careful distinction between the first rising or manifestation of sinful inclination in the Boul, and the same as an established principle. Had this distinction been explicitly made by Flacseus, and by advo- cates of mediate imputation generally, their doctrine would not have been mistaken for a mere doctrine of hereditary sin. Edwards presents a philosophical theory and defence of participation. His aim is to show that it is no absurd or impossible thing for " the race of mankhid truly to partake of the sin of the first apostasy, so that this, in reality and propriet}^, shall become their sin ; " " and therefore the sin of the apostasy is not theirs merely because God imputes it to them ; but it is truly and properly theirs, and on that ground God imputes it to them." f * Ibid., p. 544. flbid, P- 559. 400 THE AUGUSTESriAN AND THE FEDERAL In New England, among the followers of Edwards, only 80 much of his theory was retained as asserted an infallible connection, in virtue of an established constitution, between Adam's first sin and the existence of a sinful inclination in each of his descendants. This sinful inclination was re- garded not as a real participation, but only as a virtual or constructive consent to the first sin of Adam. The doctrine of mere inherited depravity on the one hand, and Hopkin- sianism and the new-school theology on the other, were the natural consequence. Imputation of Adam's sin was given up. On the contrary, Calvinists of the Princeton school planted themselves on the federal theory, took up the doc- trine of Immediate Imputation, which had brought the English Calvinism of the eighteenth century into such diffi- culties, and making Turretine their text-book, waged war upon the Isqw England views, not wholly sparing Edwards himself. When we direct our attention to the Eoman Catholic the- ology we observe that the doctrine of immediate imputation, which Abelard and certain nominalists broached in the mid- dle ages, has found little favor in later times, except among latitudinarians. The orthodox Catholic theology — the rep- resentatives of Augustinism — have regarded the whole fed- eral theory with distrust and aversion. It is remarkable that in the Council of Trent the federal theory was brought forward by Catharinus, the opponent of Calvin, and a man who was all his life suspected in his own church of being loose in his theology in relation to the points which sepa- rated Augustine from Pelagius. According to Father Paul, Catharinus explained his opinion to be that as " God made a covenant with Abraham and all his posterity, when he made him father of the faithful, so when he gave original righteousness to Adam and to all mankind, he made him seal an obligation in the name of all, to keep it for himself and them, observing the commandments ; which, because he transgressed, he lost, as well for others as for himself, and THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 401 incurred the punishments also for them." * Against this opinion the celebrated champion of orthodoxy, Dominicus "Soto, protested, f He distinguished between the actual sin of Adam ^and the principle or habit " bred in the mind of the actor." " This habitual quality," remaining in Adam^ " passed into the posterity, and is transfused as proper unto every one." " He compareth," says Father Paul, " original sin to crookedness, as it is indeed a spiritual obliquity ; for the whole nature of man being in Adam, when he made himself crooked by transgressing the precept, the whole na- ture of man, and, by consequent, every particular person re- mained crooked, not by the curvity of Adam, but by his own, by which he is truly crooked and a sinner, until he be straightened by the grace of God." Afterwards, Father Paul observes that the opinion of Catharinus was best un- derstood, " because it was expressed by a political conceit of a bargain made by one for his posterity, which being trans- gressed, they are all undoubtedly bound ; and many of the fathers did favor that ; but perceiving the contradiction of the other divines, they durst not receive it." In his theo- logical writings, composed after the council, Soto opposed the covenant theory and defended pure Augustinism. Bel- larmine declares that the council intended to condemn the doctrine of Pighius and Catharinus, who denied that innate depravity is properly sinful. This great expounder of Cath- olic theology maintains that the first sin of Adam was gene- ric. " There could not be anything in infants," he says, " of the nature of sin, unless they were participant in the first sin of Adam." j^ This sin is imputed to all, who are born of Adam, since all, existing in the loins of Adam, in him and by him sinned, w^hen he sinned." § By common consent of Protestants, Jansenius is considered to have been, on the Catholic side in the seventeenth cen- ♦ We quote from the Old English translation of Father Paul's History of the Council of Trent, pp. 175, 177. f Ibid. , p. 176. X Vol. iii. , Cont. ii. , Lib. v. , c. xviii. § Ibid. , c. xiii. 402 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL tuiy, the most faithful follower of Augustine. He read all the writings of Augustine seventeen times, and his copious work on this father was the fruit of his devoted labors. "Now, Jansenius opposes the covenant theory with aU his might, as being at war with Augustinian theology. Recent theologians have invented that theory, he says. They could not have excogitated anything more foreign to Augustine's thoughts, more absurd in relation to his system, or more re- pugnant to his principles. * Augustine held that the great- ness of the first sin is the cause of the corruption of nature and of the transmission of corruption ; and so that " all things take place by no agreement, but happen from the na- ture of things, because the children are said to have sinned in the parent and to have been one with him." f " In Au- gustine's view nothing else is original sin, but concupiscence with guilt." Jansenius declares that nobody ever had so wild a dream as to imagine that this great depravation of human nature comes upon men from some agreement made by God with their parents, or is propagated by the positive law or wiU of God. :j: Augustine, he says, never resorted to any compacts or positive laws of God for the explication of this subject. It was through the nature of things, in Augus- tine's view, that the first great sin, together with human na- ture, pass to the posterity of Adam. § We could quote from Jansenius pages of argument and warm denunciation directed against the federal theory. It is not merely the idea of im- putation without inherent sin — the notion of Pighius and Catharinus — that he opposes, but also the whole conception of a covenant with Adam, entailing a curse on his posterity. The significance and importance of his sentiments on this subject, theological scholars will at once comprehend. He considers the federal hypothesis an innovation, hostile to the spirit of the Augustinian doctrine. * Jansenius, Auguatimis (Louvain, 1640), t. ii., p. 208. t Ibid., p. 211. X Ibid., p. 247. § Ibid., p. 246. THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED. 403 Here we pause in this historical investigation. It is clear to us, first, that the prevailing doctrine, down to a compara- tively recent period, made the imputation of Adam's sin and inherent depravity, each the inseparable condition of the other, instead of regarding the latter merely as the penal consequence of the former ; and, secondly, that real partici- pation in the first sin formed the groimdwork of imputation, the covenant hypothesis without participation being a later notion, tlie offspring of the false and untenable philosophy which supralapsarian theologians vainly endeavored to es- tablish in the Reformed Church. We subjoin a brief statement of objections to the theory of immediate imputation on the federal basis. 1. The Scriptural argument for this theory will not bear examination. The relation to God under which Adam was placed is never called in the Scriptures a covenant. The ad- vocates of the theory pretend to adduce but one passage where it is thus called — Hosea vi. 7 ; but this passage is cor- rectly rendered in our version as follows : " For they like men " — not like Adam, which is the other rendering — " have transgressed the covenant." The offence of Ephraim and Judah is an example of a common species of depravity. It is not claimed that the teachings of Jesus Christ contain any reference to a covenant with Adam or to a vicarious office such as the doctrine of immediate imputation attributes to him. If this doctrine is one of so vast consequence in the Christian system, it is astonishing that the founder of Chris- tianity should make no mention of it. The circumstance that the same penalties which are threatened to Adam, like- wise fall upon his descendants, proves nothing to the purpose. In whatever way they become sinful, these penalties are ap- propriately inflicted on them. If it is said by Paul (1 Cor. XV. 21, 22, 47), that all die '' in Adam," this is not saying that their death is the penalty of his sin. They die because they are the children of Adam, but how this takes place, or the causal nexus between the two facts, is not given. The 404 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL real stronghold — ^if it can be called a stronghold — of the im- putation theory is Romans v. 12 seq. We have not room to examine this passage in detaU. The stress of the argument of the advocates of this theory rests finally on the apostle's statement that " condemnation ^' comes upon men " by one that sinned " and " by the offence of one," or by one offence. But the apostle's declaration holds good, if the transgression of Adam brought mankind into a state of condemnation, whether this result was through their own depravity or not. The great thought of Paul is that Adam ruined the race, and Christ saved it. Our condemnation is traceable to one, our justification to the other. Intermediate agencies and proximate causes are left out of consideration. The manner in which the advocates of immediate imputation interpret these words of Paul reminds one of Luther's iteration of the hoG est meuni corpus in his controversy with Zwingle. It is an example of that rather frigid style of exegesis, by which transubstantiation and consubstantiation become dogmas in large portions of the church. 2. The extreme form of the doctrine of imputation, which is in vogue at present, involves its advocates in the inconsist- ency of supposing that there is a sin for which we are respon- sible in the full legal sense — as truly so as was its perpetra- tor — ^but which does not bring on us, of itself, eternal pun- ishment. Calvin and most of the old theologians were con- sistent in holding that the penalty could not be inflicted on us for Adam's sin alone, apart from inherent depravity ; for they held that imputation is impossible apart from inherent depravity. But the Princeton writers, separating the one from the other and making inherent depravity merely the punishment of sin imputed, still make this depravity the necessary condition of the infliction of eternal death. Why ? Did not Adam deserve this penalty for that first act alone ? Is not our responsibility for it as great as his ? Why would it not be just to inflict eternal death upon us for imputed sin alone ? What a strange theory ! Here is a sin in which we THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPAJIED. 405 had no real part, for whicli we are not regarded with moral disapprobation, which we are not bound to repent of, and which does not bring on us, as a direct penal consequence, eternal death ; and yet it is a sin for which we ai-e legally responsible — as truly so as the individual who committed it! 3. The covenant hypothesis, regarded as a solution of the problem of sin, wears a superficial character. It is one of those artificial solutions of great moral and social problems, which remove difficulties in too easy a manner, at the same time that they raise difficulties greater than those which they remove. There is a striking analogy between this hypothe- sis and the social compact theory of government, which was the product of the same age. A covenant between individ- uals was declared to be the foundation of civil society, and the obligation of civil obedience was made to rest on this imaginary contract. Certain perplexing questions appeared to be solved by this hypothesis, which was a mere legal fic- tion, and accordingly its mischievous bearing in other re- spects was overlooked. The theoretical defences of the federal h}^othesis are weak enough. It is objected to the doctrine that men infal- libly become sinners in consequence of Adam's sin, through a sovereign constitution — the idea of Kew England theology — ^that this doctrine attributes too much to the will of God. We will not here discuss the New England view ; but, strange to say, this objection comes from those who found the covenant itself on nothing better. They hold that men are judicially condemned to be sinners, and to endure the penalty of sin ; but when we ask for the ground of this con- demnation we are referred to the covenant, and when we inquire into the justice of the covenant, we are thrown back on the sovereignty of God. They seek to remove a diffi- culty by creating another, only one step distant, of a more formidable character. It is better, with Augustine, to leave some questions mianswered than to solve them by inventing 406 THE ArGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL hypotheses which are in open conflict with proper concep- tions of the divine justice. The most plausible defence of the covenant hypothesis is that founded on sdentia media, God foresaw that the de- scendants of Adam, if they were to be tried individually, would not do better than he, his inducements to right action being greater than theirs would be ; and, therefore, deter- mhied to treat them judicially according to his conduct. The scientia media, in such applications of it, is an exploded principle. It might as well be argued that because God foresaw that Adam and his posterity would be sinners, it would be just for him to condemn them all and punish them eternally, without any probation whatsoever. The analogy of Christ's work is pleaded in support of the theory in question. But Owen, as we have seen, makes the relation of Christ, as the author of benefits to his people, an exception to the ordinary rule of the divine administration, and a case by itself. Not to insist on the propriety of this distinction, it is sufficient to say that the argument from the analogy of Christ's work depends wholly on the idea that distributive justice is satisfied by the atonement, so that the believer, apart from the consideration of the promise to him, could not be justly condemned. To identify the scriptural and orthodox conception of expiation with the last proposi- tion is simply preposterous. 4. The doctrine of immediate imputation, in the form in which it is now held, involves, by necessary inference, the proposition that God is the author of sin. It is held that, on account of Adam's sin, God withdraws from the soul, from the moment of its creation — that is, never imparts to the soul — the grace, without which it cannot but sin. It is thus rendered sinful, prior to moral choice — prior to the knowledge of moral distinctions. It is vain to urge that the act of God is of a negative character. What he does ren- ders the effect inevitable. It is vain to say that the faculties of agency remain. By the supposition, it is just as impossi- THEOIilES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPAEED. 407 ble, from the moment of creation, to be holy as to see with- out light or to breathe without air. To suppose a man to be holy is even more absurd, for, on the withdrawal of grace, the powers of the soul necessarily fall into disorder and cor- ruption. We do not see how the conclusion can be avoided that God is the author of sin. 5. The imputation theory makes sin the penalty of sin, in a way which the church has never countenanced. I am con- demned to be sinful, as a punishment for the sin of Adam, who is called my representative. I had no real agency, it is asserted, in that sin. But sin is inflicted on me as a penalty for another's act. ]^ow, this theory is totally different from the old view that a wrong-doer fastens on himself a habit which becomes too strong for him to cast off ; so that his sin becomes his punishment. The theory of immediate im- putation makes sin to be inflicted on them who are not wrong-doers. They are sinful in pursuance of an ante-natal condemnation — ante-natal, and of an earlier date than their creation. The Augustinian doctrine holds that native de- pravity is both sin and punishment; but it professes to bring this birth-sin under the great law of habit, to which we have just adverted. We sinned in Adam and brought on ourselves, as individuals, the sinful bondage to evil in which we are born. It is thus widely at variance with the modern theory, according to which we are slaves of sin for an act which we are not to blame for and with which we had nothing to do. The agency of God in relation to the existence of sin is discussed by President Edwards in his treatise on original sin ; and he makes the precise distinc- tion which we have made here. The continuance of a state of depravity according to a settled course of nature, is one thing ; the origination of such a state in an individual is quite another thing. This is to charge Adam's sin to his posterity. The statement and admission of this distinction leads Edwards to introduce, at this point in his discussion, the realistic view of our connection with Adam, whereby 408 THE AUGUSTINIAN AND THE FEDERAL his act is made to be ours also, and thus to be a just cause of our inherent depravity from birth. 6. The theory of immediate imputation is incompatible with a right conception of the nature of sin. Princeton es- says in support of this theory make much use of President Edwards^s proposition that the virtuousness or viciousness of acts of the will or dispositions of the heart lies not in their cause, but their nature. Without assenting to everything that Edwards teaches under this head, we fully accord with his main idea that blame and praise belong to acts and states of the will, and not to anything antecedent, to which they are in some sense due. In the chapter referred to, he is prosecuting his old crusade against the notion of choosing choices. But he guards his own meaning in the following remark : " As the phrase, heing the author, may be under- stood, not of being the producer by an antecedent act of will ; but as a person may be said to be the author of the act of will itself, by his being the immediate agent, or the being that is acting, or in exercise in that act ; if the phrase, heing the author, is used to signify this, then doubtless common sense requires men being [to be] the authors of their own acts of will, in order to their being esteemed worthy of praise or dispraise on account of them." Men are responsi- ble, according to Edwards, for their evil native character, or state of will, because they produced it through the generic act — the act of the race — in Adam. Whether that first sin was thus generic, and whether if it were so, it would justify the consequences just stated — whether, in other words, a generic act of this sort may, according to a righteous order, entail guilt on the individual and engender sinful character prior to an act of individual self-determination — we shall not here inquire. But this is manifest, that Edwards, like the Augustinians, supposed that an act of sin in which we truly and really took part is the indispensable condition of native guilt and depravity. This condition the doctrine of imme- diate imputation on the federal basis sweeps away. We THEORIES OF ORIGINAL SIN COMPARED.. 409 are made to have a habit of sin from the outset, with no prior act of sin on om* part, out of which it grew. This violates the fundamental conception of holy and sinful char- acter, which both the Scriptures and the common-sense of mankind decisively sanction. 18 410 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE DOCTRINE OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT.* Recent ecclesiastical events in New England have called up for public discussion the Christian doctrine of punish- ment in the future life. The earnest and dispassionate con- sideration of any of the momentous themes of religion cannot fail to be of wholesome tendency. In the present ferment of theological opinion in all Protestant countries, no tradi- tional belief can escape the ordeal of renewed and searching inquiry. Whatever in the temper of the times may be de- serving of censure, there is a vast and increasing number of persons who do really seek the truth with an open mind. It having been thought best to present to the readers of The New Englander two essays on the doctrine referred to — written independently of one another, with no polemical in- tent, and each of them by a theological scholar competent to handle the questions involved, in the light to be drawn from the improved philology of our day — the present writer willingly consents to introduce these learned discus- sions by preliminary remarks, chiefly historical. In the ancient period — the patristic period — embracing the first six centuries, the doctrine of endless punishment was the prevalent opinion.f The idea of the ultimate res- * An Article in The New Englander for March, 1878. f A word may here be said upon Jewish opinion on this subject. The Pharisees in the time of Christ taught the doctrine of endless punish- ment, as we learn from Josephus, B. J!, ii. 8, 14, Ant. xviii 1, 3. In both passages Josephus uses the term od^ios. See, also, Gfrorer, Das , where the Rabbinical teaching is given. DOCTEIKE OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 411 toration of all was entertained by a few eminent church teachers, and the notion of an eventual annihilation of the wicked was occasionally broached. Certain writers are often erroneously cited as favoring the last-rnentioned view. The Fathers not unfrequently argue against the belief that the soul is self -existent, and in opposition to such a theory they affirm that the soul, like every other creature of God, is upheld by divine power, and will continue to exist as long as He shall choose to maintain it in being. Remarks of this kind have been construed as indicating that the souls of the wicked will one day cease to be. So Justin Martyr (Dial. c. Tryjph.y c. 5) is often interpreted ; and, at the first blush, this seems to be the natural understanding of his words. But the context of the very passage appears to ex- clude this construction, which elsewhere would seem to be expressly contradicted {Dial. c. Tryph., c. 130, Apol., i., 28). Irenseus is misinterpreted in a similar way. In one place (Adv. Ha^r., lib. ii., 34), a casual reader would suppose him to affirm -that the existence of wicked souls is terminable. Here again a close scrutiny of the context shows that a dis- tinction is made between bare existence, and " life " in the higher sense, with which " length of days " is made synony- mous. This distinction is drawn out in other passages (Lib. V. 4, § 3 ; 7, § 1 ; 27, § 2). " Separation from God," he says, " is death," or the loss of that " life and light," that triie joy, which depends on communion w^th God. That Irenaeus held to the doctrine of annihilation has also been deduced from a remark made in one of the so-called Pfaf- fian fragments relative to the ultimate destruction of evil. The author of this fragment evidently had in mind Col. i. 20, 22 ; and what he meant to say precisely, as far as the des- tiny of the wicked is concerned, is not fully clear. But the document itself is of more than doubtful genuineness, so Endless punishment, though the common, was not the universal, belief of the Jews. See the reference to the Talmud, in Schiirer, HT. T. Zeitge- schichte^ p. 597. 412 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE that no inference respecting the tenets of Irenseus can be built npon it. There are passages in which Irenseus can hardly be otherwise interpreted than as teaching endless conscious punishment (e. g.^ Lib. iv. 28, § 1 ; c. 39, § 4 ; cf . Lib. iii. 23, § 3 ; iv. 28, § 1). At least every other interpre- tation seems artificial. Amobius (near the beginning of the fourth century), the African rhetorician, advocated the opinion that the soul gains immortality by perseverance in goodness, and that con- sequently the wicked absolutely go out of being. But he had too many idiosyncrasies of opinion to be of any weight as an authority for ascertaining the beliefs of his contempo- raries. Arnobius was in no sense a representative of ortho- doxy. The Alexandrians, Clement and Origen, are the chief dis- sentients from the ordinary doctrine, in the first three cen- turies. Clement explicitly aflSrms his belief that all will finally be restored to holiness. Origen maintains this opin- ion, and contributed more than any other theologian to give it whatever degree of currency it obtained in the ancient church. With Origen it was an esoteric doctrine, a doctrine which belonged to the believer in the mature stage of Chris- tian character and of discernment, but one which would be abused and be prolific of harm, if it were proclaimed to all. It is important to observe the connection of this belief of Origen with other parts of his system. He held that the will does not lose its mutable quality, or issue in that per- manence of character, which is an essential idea in the Augustinian anthropology. Original sin he explained on the supposition of a pre-existence of souls, a doctrine derived from Platonism, and of a moral fall prior to birth ; and though he believed in universal restoration, which would comprehend in its wide sweep fallen angels and even Satan, he thought that there might be a series of falls and recover- ies in the seons to come. Punishment, it is also important to remark, he held to be disciplinary in its aim, the reform DOCTRINE OF FUTUEE PUNISHMENT. 413 of the offender being the prime end in view in the infliction of it. At this point we may interpose two observations. The first is that the question of the design of punishment in the future life is intimately connected with the problem of its duration. Is punishment ordained chiefly for the recovery of the transgressor ? Or is it retrospective, strictly retribu- tive, a recompense, a reaction of offended justice and of the violated moral order ? It is true that restoration does not follow, with logical necessity, from the first view, stated above, of the office of punishment in the divine economy ; for it may be held that the resistance of free-will will de- feat the provision of grace, and prevent chastisement from bringing forth its appropriate fruits, since they do not ensue with any fatalistic certainty. Still, universal restoration is more likely to be adopted in connection with this idea of the reformatory function of penalty. Nor does the doctrine of the retributive, or vindicatory, design of punishment necessarily exclude restoration ; since it is conceivable that repentance should take place under the operation of penal- ties not ordained for the sake of this result. Still, a doc- trine of restoration is much more likely to be rejected by those who so interpret the significance of punishment. It is possible, to be sure, to combine the two views of punish- ment, and to consider it, in its direct or primary design, re- troactive, but with a subordinate aim which looks to a bene- ficent effect upon the character of the sufferer. We do not here discuss the question, but simply point out its cardinal importance. In not a few modern discussions of the Atone- ment, it has surprised us to find no preliminary consideration of the design of punishment under the divine government. The second observation suggested by the foregoing state- ment of Origen's creed is that the question relates to the effect of redemption. What are to be its consequences? What the extent of its actual operation ? There is a Uni- versalism — a Universalismvs vulgaris — which makes little 414 A SKETCH OF THE HISTOET OF THE or nothing of the fact of sin, and founds itself either on a denial of ill-desert, or on a belief in man's power to extricate himself from the control of evil, to shake off the principle of selfishness and ungodliness. Christianity is the redemp- tion of the world by Jesus Christ. Its fundamental postu- late is the fact of sin and of condemnation. Deliverance is provided, which is available to all. Now it is conceivable that all should sooner or later lay hold of this help and be saved. If the Bible had so declared, there would, have been involved in this declaration no denial or attenuation of the essential elements of the Gospel. It would have been sim- ply the revelation of a fact by which the truths of the In- carnation and Expiation of Christ, and of the work of the Spirit, are nowise affected. We are not aware that John Foster denied any fundamental part of the gospel method of redemption. He probably accepted cordially the Apos- tles' and the Nicene creeds. He was an evangelical Uni- versalist. Universalism in every form may be an error, and a very mischievous error ; or it may not be. But all sorts of Universalism are not to be confounded together.* When we pass into the second section of the patristic period (from the beginning of the fourth to the end of the sixth century), we find that although the doctrine of endless punishment still prevails, there is more dissent from it. * A student at Cambridge laid before Robert Hall his perplexities on the subject of eternal punishment. Hall, after stating, in his forcible manner, his reasons for accepting the doctrine, thus concludes : "I would only add that in my humble opinion the doctrine of the eternal duration of future misery, metaphysically considered, is not an essential article of faith, nor is the belief of it ever proposed as a term of salva- tion; that, if we really flee from the wrath to come, by truly repenting of our sins, and laying hold of the mercy of God through Christ by a lively faith, our salvation is perfectly secure, whichever hypothesis we embrace on this most mysterious subject. The evidence accompanying the popular interpretation is by no means to be compared to that which establishes our common Christianity, and therefore the fate of the Chris- tian religion is not to be considered as implicated in the belief, or disbelief of the popular doctrine."— Hall's Works, v., 537. DOCTRINE OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 415 Gregory of Nyssa, one of the most eminent, if not the most eminent, of the ancient Greek theologians, expresses himself distinctly on the side of universal restoration."^ Less defi- nitely, Gregory of ]S^azianzus takes the same view. In the latter part of the fourth century, the two great representa- tives of the Antioch school of theology, Diodore of Tarsus and Theodore of Mopsuestia were restorationists. In their theology, the Incarnation was not only for the deliverance of man from sin, but its design and effect were to elevate mankind to a higher stage of being than that on which he stood, or which was possible to him, as a descendant of Adam. Beyond its negative effect, the work of Christ, the second Adam, conferred a positive good by lifting up the race to a higher destination. And this work, Theodore and his followers maintained, would eventually take effect on all. Theodore argues that Christ never would have said " until thou hast paid the uttermost farthing," if it had not been possible for this to be done ; nor would he have said that one should be beaten with many stripes, and another with few, if there was to be no end to the infliction when men had suffered a punishment commensurate with their sin.f This argument, it will be perceived, presupposes that a limited punishment is all that justice requires, and that, when this has been endured, the debt is paid. No doubt this opinion of the Antiochian teachers, which was consonant with that of Origen, though adopted by them independently, had many adherents in the fifth century. But the antagonism to Origen's philosophy and theology, which was excited under the lead of Jerome and others, caused this opinion, together with other peculiarities of the theology of the gi-eat Alexandrian, to be at length generally rejected and proscribed as heretical. • Augustine strenuously defended the doctrine of endless punishment, although in * Oral. Cat, 8, 35 ; also in the treatise de anima. f Asseman. Bibl. Orient.^ t. iii., p. 323. 416 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE his time, and within the circle of his influence, there were "tender-hearted Christians," as he styles them, besides others whom he classifies differently, who declined to accept it.* From the close of the fifth century, the doctrine that those condemned at the last judgment endure endless pain became an undisputed article of belief in the church. Yet this article of belief was practically modified in a most important degree by the rise and establishment of the doctrine of purgatory. The church from the beginning had believed in an intermediate state. The fathers of the first centuries held that Christ, after his death,^ descended into Hades. There he prosecuted his work in opposition to Satan. Sometimes it was said that he was victorious there in some undefined conflict with the Devil. This ancient idea is expressed thus in The Institution of a Christian Mem, which was issued in the early days of the English Reformation, in the reign of Henry YIII. : " Our Saviour Jesus Christ at his entry into hell first conquered and op- pressed both the devil and hell, and also death itself," f "Without tracing the different modifications of this idea — half -earnest, and half -mythical or symbolic — as it is brought forward in the patristic vn*iters, this, at least, was a clear and accepted tenet, based, as was supposed, on 1 Pet. iv. 5-7 and Eph. iv. Y-11, that in the interval between his crucifix- ion and resurrection, Jesus preached to a portion of the in- habitants of Hades, or the Underworld, the abode of de- parted souls. There he delivered the pious dead of the Old Testament, whom he transported to Paradise. This tenet is also set foi'th in immediate connection with the passage which we have cited from The Institution of a Christian Man : " Afterward he spoiled hell, and deliv- ered and brought with him from thence all the souls of those righteous and good men which from the fall of Adam died * De Civit. Dd, lib. xxi. 17-21. Of. Encheirid., c. 112. f Quoted in Blunt's Diet of Doctr. and Mist. Theol^ p. 416. DOCTEINE OF FCTUBE PUNISHMENT. 417 in the fear of God, and in the faith and belief of this our Saviour, which was then to come." Clement of Alexandria, in harmony with his general system, thought that the vir- tuous heathen shared in the benefit of Christ's preaching in Hades. Paradise, to which the saints of the old covenant were conveyed, was not generally considered by the Fathers to be a subdivision of Hades, but it was held to be an abode of happiness, with respect to the precise location of which opinion was not uniform. Origen placed it in an apartment of heaven — the third heaven. More and more the feeling spread, especially after Origen's time, that Hades, the Un- derworld, was a gloomy, undesirable region, where there could be nothing but suffering, and where Satan held sway."^ Yet it was agreed that the righteous and the wicked do not enter at death into the full fruition of reward or the full measure of suffering. They wait for this until the resurrec- * Hades is the rendering, in the Septuagint, of Sheol, the Underworld, the abode of departed souls without reference to distinctions of character or lot. In the New Testament Hades occurs only in Matt. xL 23 (and its parallel, Luke x. 15), Matt. xvi. 18, Luke xvi. 23, Acts ii. 27, 31, Rev. i. 18, vi. 8, XX. 13, 14 : since in 1 Cor. xv. 55 and Rev. iii. 7, the correct reading" omits the word. In Acts ii 27, 31, the term appears obviously to retain its old significance. In the book of Revelation it retains its in- timate association with "death." In Matt. xL 23, Luke x. 15, the gen- eral idea of destruction comports with the old conception of Hades. The same is true of Matt. xvi. 18: "The gates of Hades shall not prevail against it." In Luke xvi. 23, Dives is in Hades, in torment; Lazarus " afar off," separated from him by a chasm or an abyss, in the bosom of Abraham. Comparing this passage with Acts ii. 27, 31, and with Luke xxiii. 43, we are led to believe that the Evangelist conceived of the place denoted by " the bosom of Abraham" as in Paradise, and Paradise as in- cluded within Hades. The heavenly Paradise of which Paul speaks (2 Cor. xii. 4) is differently placed. The perplexity of Augustine in deter- mining the sense of the statement in the Apostles' Creed — '* he descended into hell," is partly connected with his inability to think of Hades as com- prehending ** Paradise " within it. His frank confession of the diflBculties that beset his mind on this subject, and especially on the preaching to the spirits in prison (1 Pet. iii. 19), is made at length in one of his Epistles (clxiv., ad Ecodium), 18* 418 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE tion and the last judgment. Some of the Fathers had taught — among them, Clement of Alexandria, and, later, Lad;antius, Ambrose, and Jerome — that in the fire of the last day, which consumes the world, the remaining dross of sin will be burnt away from the souls of the redeemed. The same idea, it appears, is found h'ere and there in the Rabbini- cal teaching, and even, as some think, prior to the time of Christ.* Clement of Alexandria, as might be expected, pronounced this purifying fire to be of an etherial or spirit- ual nature. It was reserved for Augustine, however, to lay the foundation of the doctrine of purgatory, by suggesting that Christians not fully cleansed at death from the pollu- tion of sin are purified in the intermediate state, through the agency of purgatorial fire. His conjecture was converted by those who came after him into a fixed article of belief. Under the auspices of Gregory I. it established itself in the theology of the Western Church. It connected itself with the doctrine of penance and indulgences, which was rounded out by Alexander of Hales, in the thirteenth century, by the introduction of the notion of a treasury of supererogatory merits. The Eastern Church has never admitted the Latin doctrine of a fiery purgatory. Yet Eastern orthodoxy allows that pains of remorse may exist in the minds of the redeemed after death, and that prayers and offerings in their behalf are beneficial. Thus the church, throughout the middle ages, or for a thousand years, held to a reformatory punishment, of a limited duration, for the mass of those who were under its tutelage. All were baptized. None were excluded from the sacraments but the contumacious and incorrigible. Hell was reserved for those dying unabsolved, in mortal sin. There was hope for the final salvation of all not obstinate in their rebellion against the church and the law of God. From this hope, however, the heathen and the infidel were * Gfrorer, Das JahrJu d. HeUs, ii., p. 81. DOCTRINE OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 419 of course cut off. The Divina Commedia of Dante, in its three parts, gives to the reader a fair conception of the theology of Aquinas, whom the poet calls his master. Only over the gate of one of the regions which the poet explored was written the inscription : "Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch' entrate." The Reformers attacked the whole doctrine of purgatory. This they did on scriptural grounds, and from the connec- tion in which that doctrine stood with the theory of indul- gences, and with the claim of the church and the Pope to a partial control over the lot of those who are enduring pur- gatorial fire. It was with an assault upon the mediaeval conception of iridulgences and the correlated tenets, that Luther began his movement. The Augsburg Confession (Art. IX.) makes baptism essential to salvation, and teaches that even unbaptized children are lost. Some of the Calvia- istic confessions (as the Confessio Belgica^ Art. XXXIY.), appear to affirm the same tenet ; though others (as Conf. Scot. a. A. D. 1580), repudiate it. Calvin denies that all un- baptized persons are adjudged to eternal death, and uses language consonant with the view which so many of the old Protestant theologians embraced, that not the privation, but the contempt, of the sacraments brings perdition {Inst., lY., xvi., 26). Many of the Calvinistic confessions (as those of the Westminster Assembly) affirm that " elect " infants are saved, and say nothing, except by implication, respect- ing those who are not elect. Augustine had taught the final condemnation of non-elect infants, and had retreated from his earlier view that their pimishment in the future life is purely negative. He thought, however, that their damnation is of the mildest ' sort (" levissima," Cont. Jul., v., 4. Cf . Ep. clxxxvi., 29). The schoolmen were generally disposed to embrace Augustine's prior and more merciful opinion, so that when a distinguished ecclesiastic in the four- teenth century, Gregory of Rimini, revived the later idea 4:20 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE of Augustine, he was designated by the opprobrious title of tortor infantum. The schoolmen placed infants in one of the outer zones of hell — the limbus infantium — where they are deprived of bliss. Augustine had a greater influence than any other patristic writer in shaping the doctrines of the Reformers on these topics. Zwingle, who brought away from the old church more of the tone of the Renaissance than any other of the Protestant champions, held that not only infants, but the virtuous heathen, also, are partakers of salvation. These ideas were associated with his peculiar tenet respecting original sin, and with other opinions, which, as is well known, led Luther to feel that there was in him a certain Rationalistic vein : " Ihr Kaht einen anderen Geist denn WirP The Protestant theologians carried their opposition to purgatory so far as to obliterate the whole doctrine of the intermediate state. The Westminster Confession (c. xxxii.) declares that " the souls of the righteous," at death, " are received into the highest heavens," and " the souls of the wicked are cast into hell ; " and adds : " Besides these two places for souls separated from their bodies, the Scripture acknowledgeth none." In Luther's Bible, both 8heol and Hades (even in Acts ii. 31), as well as Gehenna^ were ren- dered Hohle ; in King James's version, " Hell." That doc- trine was revived, in a form to exclude the notion of pur- gatory, in particular by certain Anglican divines, as Light- foot, Burnet, and Pearson, and by Campbell in his Disserta- tions on the Four Gospels. We have now to glance at those modifications of doctrinal opinion on this subject, which have arisen in more modern times among evangelical theologians who do not accept liter- ally the confessions of the sixteenth and seventeenth cen- turies. We begin with the Lutheran theologians who are loosely designated as of the Schleiermacherian school — that school to which the revival of a believing and scientific theology, DOCTRINE OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 421 in opposition to the old -fashioned Rationalism, is chiefly due. The point to which theologians of this class not unfre- quentlj refer is the prophetic and fragmentary character of the eschatological teaching of the New Testament. Just as the predictions of the Messianic age must of necessity be presented in pictures, and be only partially apprehensible to the. church of the Old Testament, so an analogous predic- tive element enters into the description of the Last Things, which forms a part of the New Testament Revelation. It is only glimpses that are afforded us of an order of things outside of all present experience. Hence the impossibility of that precision of dogmatic statement which is practica- ble in other parts of the Christian system. This considera- tion may, to be sure, be used to eviscerate of their proper meaning express declarations of the Saviour and his apos- tles, or to attenuate the force of the moral truth revealed in them. But such is not the design of the theologians to whom we now refer. They bring forward this suggestion by way of wholesome caution against an over-literal inter- pretation, or a presumptuous claim to know more than it was the intention of Heaven to reveal. The principal deviation from the traditional tenets on the subject before us, which is found among the German evan- gelical theologians, is in the idea of an opportunity of hear- ing the Gospel, to be granted, beyond the bounds of this life, and prior to the last judgment, to those who have not heard of Christ here, or have imperfectly apprehended his Gospel. The belief is frequently expressed that multitudes who depart from the world without a true knowledge of the way of life, will be enlightened and renewed during this in- termediate period. It is maintained that eternal punish- ment is threatened in the Scriptures to those who have been made acquainted with the Gospel, but have refused to avail themselves of its offers, and that a sound exegesis does not warrant the assumption that anything but the conscious re- 422 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE jection of the light and help which the Gospel affords, will be attended with final condemnation. It is true, also, that the problem of the ultimate restoration of all is discussed ; but an affirmative solution is seldom unequivocally ex- pressed. Many, on the other hand, would decide this ques- tion in the negative. It should be stated, also, that this class of theologians, how- ever much they may qualify the old formulas and concep- tions of inspiration, stand firmly upon the Protestant princi- ple that the Bible, fairly interpreted, with a comparison of Scripture with Scripture, is the rule of faith. Schleiermacher {Christl. Glauhe, ii., 503 seq.) opposes the doctrine of eternal punishment, partly on exegetical grounds : he interprets 1 Cor. xv., 25, 26, as teaching the opposite. He finds psychological difficulties in the supposition of an unending self-reproach through an activity of conscience which yet is attended with no moral improvement. The capacity to conceive of the blessedness of the redeemed, which is the necessary condition of this anguish, involves a remaining capacity to share in the good thus imagined. It is impossible, he argues, to suppose that the saints in heaven can be happy if their fellow-men, for whom, even though their sufferings are deserved, they must feel compassion and sympathy, are in a state of misery from which there is no hope of deliverance. The sorrow of the good would be in- creased by the consciousness that their own salvation was se- cured by help accorded, in the course of the divine govern- ment, to them, which the lost had not enjoyed. " Therefore we should not hold to such a notion [as to the destiny of ihen], without decisive testimonies that Jesus has foreseen it, such as we by no means possess. Keander, in his Planting and Training of the Church (Eobinson's ed., p. 483 seq.), takes up this question of resto- ration. He admits the possibility of an increasing illumina- tion of the Apostle Paul's mind in respect to the prospects of the kingdom, analogous to that progressive enlightenment DOCTRINE OF FUTUEE PUNISHMENT. 423 which Peter experienced on the question of the privileges of the Gentiles. In the later Pauline epistles there is an ad- vance beyond the earlier. " We discern in Paul a progres- sive knowledge of eschatology generally, as it grew up under the enlightening and guiding influence of the Holy Spirit, when w^e compare his Epistles to the Thessalonians with his later epistles, the lif ting-up of believers to an ever-enduring fellowship with the Lord (1 Thess. iv. 17), with the later de- veloped doctrine of the earth as the seat of the perfected kingdom of God ; and 2 Thess. i. T, 9, with the doctrine of a final restitution announced at a later period." This doc- trine Xeander is inclined to find in 1 Cor. xv. 27, 28, in con- nection with Phil. ii. 10, 11, and Coloss. i. 20. He also touches on this topic in his posthumous work on the Epistles to the Corinthians {Corinther'hTiefe^ p. 246 seq.), in his comment on 1 Corinthians xv. 22 : " For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive." After noticing the differ- ent interpretations given to the passage, he says : " After all, the simplest construction would be to take the second ' all ' as equally universal with the first. In that case there would be contained in these words the doctrine of a univer- sal restoration." He then proceeds to answer objections to this interpretation from declarations found elsewhere in the New Testament, and by Paul himself, which are thought to be of a contrary tenor ; and concludes thus : " therefore, the possihility of such a construction of the passage as we have pointed out, must be maintained." But in a note writ- ten later (in 1834), he says : " Paul had in mind only the be- lievers, and ignores those who are lost." That is, he returns to the restricted interpretation of the second " all." In con- nection wdth the passage previously quoted from the earlier work, is this note : " The doctrine of such a universal resti- tution would not stand in contradiction to the doctrine of eternal punishment, as the latter appears in the Gospels ; for although those who are hardened in wickedness, left to the consequences of their conduct, their merited fate, have to 424 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE expect endless unhappiness, yet a hidden purpose of the di- vine compassion is not necessarily excluded, by virtue of which, through the wisdom of God revealing itself in the discipline of free agents, they will be led to a free appropri- ation of redemption " (Robinson's ed., p. 487). This last thought appears to be involved in the rather obscure discussion by Nitzsch, one of the most eminent of the modern Lutheran theologians and ecclesiastics {Syste^n d. christL Lehre^ p. 416 seq.). " The Scripture teaches an eternal damnation of individual men, because it is in hy- pothesi necessary. The non-coercive, non-magical, non-me- chanical nature of grace leaves room for final resistance to its influence ; perseverance in the resistance of unbelief is possible : consequently there must be de futuro^ and on this supposition, if there is to be a final judgment, eternal dam- nation." But whether this hypothesis will become thesis, or actuality, is another question. Nitzsch argues against the annihilation doctrine. The Saviour (in Matt. x. 28, Luke xii. 4, 5) does not oppose to the fear of being killed by men, the fear of being killed by God ; he does not op- pose to the fear of bodily death, the fear of death abso- lutely. Not to kill {cLTTOKTelvaL^ but "to destroy the soul " {aTToKeaai, '^v)(riv)y " to cast into hell " {ifi^aXeiv ek Tr}v yievvav), is what God is represented, in contrast with men, as able to do. It is supposable that eternal dam- nation is a mere hypothesis and universal restoration the fact ; or that there is an absolute annihilation ; or that the wicked soul is reduced to a ruin — bereft of every good as well as evil activity. In either case it is conceivable that the same apostle who had preached eternal danmation, yet in his final eschsitologj (dusserste Mchatologie), in 1 Cor. xv., passes above and beyond this antithesis. Julius Miiller discusses the question before us with his wonted ability, in his unpublished lectures, and in his trea- tise on The Doctrine of Sin {Lehre v. d. Siinde, ii., 598 seq.). In this work (vol. i., p. 334 seq.), Miiller insists upon the dis- DOCTRINE OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 425 tinction between chastisement and penalty, the former being distinguished by having for its design the amendment of him on whom it is inflicted, and being thus the product of paternal mercy. The idea of punishment, on the contrary, is set forth in such passages as 2 Thess. i. 8, 9, ii. 12, He- brews X. 29, 30 ; and most clearly in 1 Cor. xi. 32, where chastisement and penalty are brought into juxtaposition, and explicitly contrasted with one another. Punishment, more- over, is set forth as related to guilt, rather than to sin as a principle to be overcome. Miiller maintains that no univer- sal restoration can possibly take place prior to the judgment, since in that case there could be no separation and no judg- ment at all. Hence he concludes that restoration cannot be taught in 1 Cor. xv. 22, nor in Rom. v, 18, 19, since these passages would place it, if they referred to it at all, in this intermediate period. He confutes the argument for univer- sal restoration which is founded on the aim, or proper ten- dency, of the Gospel and of the divine system of recovery ; since the results are made contingent on the free act of the creature. Nor does he regard as conclusive the grounds which are drawn from Christian feeling, which revolts at an unsubdued antagonism to the divine will to be perpetuated forever. He admits the weight of this objection, but does not consider it decisive. The infliction of punishment, where the disobedient creature passively and involuntarily acknowledges the absolute supremacy and majesty of the divine law, secures from discordance the harmony of the di- vine order. Nor, again, can restoration be infallibly de- duced from the divine love, since though justice is a branch of love, yet in love justice and holiness are essential ele- ments. Love, from its very nature, must react against its opposite, and assume the form of holy indignation. [N'or can inhumanity be charged on the Creator, if a being en- dued with free-will, through his own sin brings on himself endless ruin. The jpossihility of endless punishment must then be conceded. Sin has a tendency to pei-petuate itself \ 426 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE character tends to permanence — evil character, as well as good. What the actual results will be can be learned only from revelation. Miiller holds that the divine love will never abandon men until they have become hardened against its influences and efforts. His conclusion is that the text (Matt. xii. 31, 32) : " All manner of sin and blasphemy " — that is, every sin, even blasphemy — " shall be forgiven unto men ; but the blasphemy against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven unto men .... neither in this world, neither in the world to come " — is to be taken as a distinct declara- tion that all sins, except one, will be forgiven either before or after the consummation of the Iledeemer's kingdom ; that is, in the present, or the future, seon. The theory of an eventual extinction of the wicked has few adherents among the eminent German theologians. Rothe is its principal advocate ; and in his system it is con- nected with his peculiar view of the relation of spirit to mat- ter, and of the development and immortality of the soul as contingent on its own holy action. Itothe's elaborate discussion of the topic of Future Pun- ishment is found in his posthumous Dogmatlh (pp. 132-169, 291-336). The most of the Saviour's utterances on this sub- ject, he asserts, relate to what is to occur prior to the last judgment. At the first glance, Jesus appears to teach the endless punishment of all who enter Gehenna. This, how- ever, is not the fact. The word aionios (alcovio^), which oc- curs in Matt. xxv. 41, 46, is used in the Scriptures in a more lax sense. It signifies, not an indefinitely long time, but the longest time which can belong to an object, in accordance with its nature. There are many examples of this restricted meaning : e. g., Exod. xxi. 6, Deut. xv. 17. In Jude (ver. 6, cf . 2 Pet. ii. 4), a stronger term (atSto?), is applied to a ter- minable period. As to the opinion of the Jews, in the time of Christ, respecting the duration of future punishment, they were not agreed on this point ; and if they had been, this does not authorize us to conclude that he followed the DOCTEINE OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT, 42Y popular view. Eternal life and eternal death are spoken of together ; but if " eternal " denotes the longest time which the conception, or nature, of an object admits of, that fact presents no difficulty. Of the wicked it is only said, in Matt. XXV. 41, 46, that "during the continuance of their stay in Gehenna^ their pain will not cease, without any de- termination of the question whether that stay will, or will not, be endless " (p. 138). If Matt. xxvi. 24, Mark xiv. 21 (cf. Luke xxii. 22) refer to Judas, these expressions are jus- tified on the supposition that Judas was eventually to cease to exist. The statements of Jesus in Matt. v. 26, xii. 32 (cf. Mark iii. 29) oblige us to restrict the sense of aionios. The few passages in his teaching, which do not refer to the in- termediate state — for to this Rothe applies all those cited above, even Matt. xxv. 41, 46 — indicate that the unpardoned will gradually be deprived of sense and being : e. g.^ Matt. x. 28, Luke xii. 5. This opinion was not, Rothe affirms, un- known to the Jews : it is expressed in the apocryphal 4th Book of Ezra. The terms by which the Apostles denote perdition (o 6\e^po<; al(ovoL<;, r) dwooiXeia, 6 ^dvaro^, rj (j>^opd) most naturally signify annihilation of soul, as well as of body ; especially as Paul (Tit. i. 2, Rom. xvi. 25, Eph. iii. 9) uses aionios {ai(ovLo^) in the looser sense of the term. Rev. xiv. 11, XX. 10, must be understood in the light of Rev. xx. 14 and xvii. 8. The idea of annihilation is involved in John vi. 39, 40, 44, 54, Matt. x. 28, 30, John iii. 15, 16, x. 28, Luke xvii. 39, ix. 24, 25, Matt. vii. 13, Phil. i. 28, iii. 19, Gal. vi. 8, 1 John iii. 15 (cf. Rev. xx. 4, 5), and 1 John v. 16, 17, Heb. X. 39, vi. 8, x. 27, 2 Pet. ii. 1, 3, ii. 12, 19, Jude 10, 12, 19 ; cf. 20, 21, etc. Rothe (p. 152) presents a concise statement of the objections which have been brought, on grounds of reason and Christian feeling, to the doctrine of endless punishment, and subjects them to criticism. On the supposition of a final impenitence in the condemned, eternal punishment is fully suited to their guilt. The possibility of final impenitence cannot be denied. The end of God, so far 428 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE as the individual is concerned, may be baffled by his own per- versity ; though not the comprehensive end of God in crea- tion. Reformation is not tlie sole — it is not the proper and immediate — design of punishment. This has its end in it- self. Punishment need not and ought not to cease for the reason that the recovery of the transgressor is no longer to be hoped for. The pain of the lost may not consist in such reproaches of conscience as might involve an actual or possi- ble repentance, but rather in the incessant experience of the absolute fruitlessness of their rebellion against God, of the hostile relation of the whole created universe to them on ac- count of this rebellion, and of the rage and hatred against God and all his creation, which perpetually blaze up anew within their souls. But other objections to the doctrine of endless suffering Rothe considers valid. The necessary dis- turbance of the happiness of the redeemed, and the divine plan of the world, with which the endless continuance of sin is held to be incongruous, are among these objections. ]S"o conceivable reason can be given why the hopelessly wicked should be kept in being : the notion that their endless suffer- ing is required as a warning is groundless. Final impeni- tence, on the supposition that the pains of hell are never to cease, would be psychologically inexplicable. Yet in this life, and in the interval prior to the judgment, all the means of grace will have been exhausted upon such as at that time remain impenitent. The only satisfactory solution of the problem is found in the supposition of a gradual wearing out and extinction of their being. This will be the lot of those who persist to the last day in their resistance to the Spirit — of those who are guilty of the unpardonable sin. Rothe lays great stress on the results to be expected from the grace of God, beyond the bounds of this life, in the in- termediate state. Among the passages on which he founds this expectation, are included, of course, 1 Peter iii. 19, 20, iv. 6. With the foregoing notice of the opinions of celebrated DOCTRINE OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 429 German theologians, we may connect a brief description of the views of a distinguished Danish theologian of the evan- gelical type, Martensen, as they are expressed in his Dog- matik (pp. 534-544). " Shall the development of the world end in a dualism ? " Is there an eternal damnation, or a final restoration of all moral beings ? The church has never been willing to accept this last hypothesis, both on grounds of Scripture, and from the feeling that the Christian idea of redemption would lose something of its profound earnestness. On the contrary, however, the doctrine of restoration, which has appeared and reappeared at different times in the church, is not without support in the Scriptures, and has sprung up, not always from a lack of earnestness, but from a feeling of humanity, founded in the very nature of Christianity. Here then is an antinomy — a seeming contradiction. This antinomy is found in the Scriptures. There are passages which, taken in their full weight — " nach ihrem gamen Gewicht genoramen " — ^most expressly assert eternal damnation. There is " the unquenchable fire," " the worm that never dieth," the " sin unto death," the sin that " shall not be forgiven." On the other hand, there are 1 Cor. xv. 26-28, Eph. i. 10, 1 Cor. xv. 22 (cf. Matt. xix. 26), from which, unless the force of these expressions is curtailed, the notion of a universal restoration cannot be eliminated. That God's Word cannot contradict itself and that this antinomy must admit of some solution, is conceded. But no solution is given. May it not be, asks the author, that the solution is wisely withheld from us as long as we are in this stage of our being ? But the same antinomy, Martensen proceeds to say, emerges in our own reasonings on the subject. From the point of view, which, to be sure, for Christian reflection, is the highest — that of the teleology of divine love, we are led to the doctrine of restoration. The end of God in creation, does not look, as the Pantheist assumes, at the kingdom in general, but at the well-being of each individual. The idea 430 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE that the end is reached in the manifestation of punitive jus- tice, does not satisfy the mind ; if there is a will which eternally withstands God, there is a barrier which, the divine love never overcomes. The power of love reaches its end, not when beings bow the knee by compulsion — which would only be a revelation of might — but when all bow the knee to Christ with willing consent. On the contrary, the anthro- pological, psychological, and ethical considerations, the facts of life, lead us to the doctrine of eternal condemnation. Man is free ; he is not compelled to repent ; salvation is not a process of nature ; the hardening of the heart is possible. The time must come when the possibility of conversion is gone ; w^hen "it is too late." In conversion, not only the abstract power is needful, but also the order of things, the environing circumstances, in which trial and probation have their place. For the condemned, there is no future ; there is only the retrospect of a lost opportunity, a wasted life. There is an inward demand in the soul of the lost for the realiza- tion of that which is abstractly possible, while all the condi- tions of that realization are wanting. This is " the worm that never dieth." Shakespeare has helped us to imagine that desperate condition, in such a conception as that of Lady Macbeth, wandering about in her sleep, seeking in vain to wash the ineffaceable stain of blood from her hand. Here is no true, no fruitful contrition ; no change of will. The theological idea leads us to restoration. Hence this doctrine was found mostly in the Greek Church ; the anthro- pological idea tends to the opposite doctrine, which accord- ingly was defended by Augustine, and has had fewer to dis- sent from it in the "Western Church. The theory of annihilation does not solve the antinomy. This theory is not supported by the Scriptures : it leaves tlie fatherly love of God baffled in its aim and end. The idea that those guilty of the unpardonable sin serve out their time of punishment, and are then delivered, besides the exegeti- cal difficulties which lie against it, gives no rational expla- DOCTRINE OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 431 nation of the way in which conversion, in such cases, is to be secured. For it is not only a right knowledge of sin that is required, but the beginning of a new life. The antinomy must, therefore, be left standing. There is a will of God, and in this sense, a design that all should be saved : there is a possibility that such wdll be the actual fact, but the opposite is also possible (p. 543). In the annals of English theology, a noted representative of the annihilation doctrine is John Locke. In his Reason- ableness of Christianity^ he shows himself a literalist in his interpretation of the word " death.'^ He understands that Adam was threatened with the literal destruction of soul and body ; that he and his race are saved from this penalty by the work of Christ, and put upon a new probation, under " the law of faith ; " that those who fail to fulfill the condi- tions on which " life " is offered in the Gospel will undergo the penalty of annihilation, and will forever cease to be. Of the modern English advocates of the doctrine of the ex- tinction of souls, the most prominent is Archbishop Whately. In his work on The^ Future State (Lect. viii.) he sets forth his opinions. The words translated " destruction," and the word " death," as these terms are applied in the Scriptures to the lot of the finally impenitent, he takes in the most lit- eral meaning. He also maintains the opinion, which was occasionally, broached in the middle ages, but was counted heretical, that the souls of men are in an unconscious state during the interval between death and the general resurrec- tion. In recent times the doctrine of universal restoration has been espoused by a number of theologians, of conspicuous ability, in England. John Foster is one of the most noted of these. His position is, that the endless punishment of men for the sins of this life would be inconsistent with the equity of the divine administration. He assumes that their nature, at tlie start, is so " fatally corrupt," and their circum- stances so unfavorable, that there is no hope for them, save 432 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE in an operation of grace ah extra, which is arbitrary and dis- criminative on the part of the sovereign Agent, and inde- pendent of the will of man. To the objection that punish- ment is endless, because there is an endless continuance in sinning, he answers that it is the doom of the condemned which " necessitates a continuance of the criminality," for this is a doom to sin as well as to suffer. " Virtually there- fore, the eternal punishment is the punishment of the sins of time." As to the teaching of Scripture, Foster remarks, that the terms " everlasting," " eternal," " forever," original or translated, are often employed in the Bible, as well as other writings, under great and various limitations of im- port. But " how could the doctrine have been more plainly and positively asserted, than it is in the Scripture language ? " To this Foster answers, that we are able to express it so as to leave no possibility of a misunderstanding of our language ; and this was equally possible to the biblical writers. The terms they use are designed to magnify, to aggravate, rather than to define the evil threatened. The great difference of degrees of future punishment, so plainly stated in the Scrip- tures, is said to be an argument of some weight against its perpetuity. If a limited measure of punishment is consist- ent with equity, then a limited duration may be ; the argu- ment from the alleged infinite evil of sin, in one case as much as the other, is set aside.* Another English theologian, whose writings on this sub- ject have excited much attention, is the late Be v. F. D. Maurice. His opinions are presented in his Commentary on John^s Gosjpel^ his Theological Essays — the last essay in the volume — and in his Letter to Dr. Jelf. In this last publica- tion, Mr. Maurice denies that he is a Universalist. Whether suffering will be without end in the future life, is a point on which he professes himself unable to affirm or deny. His position is that of nescience. Nothing, as he thinks, is re- ♦ Life and Correspondence of John Foster^ ii., 333 seq. DOCTRINE OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 433 vealed with regard to the duration of punishment. The word aionios {alcovio^;) signifies eternal, and is thought by him to have no reference to time. It is applied in the 'New Testament to God and to things extra-temporal. It denotes not duration, but a state or quality. " Eternal " death (or punishment) is the opposite of " eternal life," as this is de- fined by the Apostle John. It is the condition of a soul be- reft of the fellowship of God ; but on the question how long this state will continue, the word " eternal " sheds no light. " Life eternal " is the knowledge of God, and the quality termed " eternal " is, in its entirety, in that life now, in the case of every one who is possessed of it. With respect to the English Episcopal Church, since the publication of the Assays and Heviews, the civil courts have decided that the Articles do not inculcate the doctrine of endless punishment. In the revision of the Articles under Elizabeth, when the forty-two were reduced to thirty-nine, the forty-second Article, in which eternal punishment had been directly asserted, was among those left out. This was not because the revisers of the Articles disbelieved the doc- trine — a doctrine which would seem to be implied in Art. XYII. (Of Predestination and Election) — but it was omitted for other reasons. Inasmuch, however, as this tenet had once been inserted in the Creed, and had been afterwards deliberately omitted, the judicial decision was that clerg}^- men who subscribe to the Articles are not bound to believe and teach it. How extensively it has been abandoned in the Anglican Church, at the present day, it is impossible to judge. A fervid discourse in opposition to it by Canon Farrar has lately been put in print. He describes himself as having no clear and decisive opinion on the question of the duration of future punishment. He cannot accept the Romish doctrine of purgatory, or the " spreading belief in conditional immortality," or the certain belief that all will finally be saved. Yet the final sentences of the sermon ap- pear to be an expression of this last-mentioned belief. Dr. 19 434 A SKETCH OF THE HISTOKT OF THE Farrar holds that aionios {al(ovco<;) means " age-long," not " everlasting," and in this sense is used in the Bible ; that it means, secondly, something extra-temporal ; but that it does not contain " the fiction of an endless time." He holds that " Gehenna," as used by Christ, indicates, not final and hopeless, but purifying and corrective punishment, an "intermediate, a metaphorical, and a terminable retribu- tion." Among the Non-conformists in England, in the evangeli- cal bodies, there are many ministers who no longer believe in the doctrine of endless punishment. A competent wit- ness, Rev. Dr. Allon, in a biographical sketch of Rev. T. Binney, prefixed to a volume of his /Sermons (London, 1875), says of him, that " he refused the hard and terrible conclusions of Calvinistic predestination." Dr. Allon adds : "He was one of the earliest of his generation to maintain the broad universal purpose of the divine Father's love, and of the salvation which is proffered through Christ. And, it may be added here, for the same reasons he rejected the dogma of eternal punishment; which seems pass- ing through the same stages of instinctive shrinking from it, traditional aflfirmation, subtle disintegration, and religious abandonment. While Mr. Binney shrank from propounding any alternative theory of the des- tiny of the wicked, he distinctly refused to believe in eternal torments. He felt that conclusions from which, not in their sinful and alienated but in their best and holiest feelings, good men instinctively recoiled could not be possible to the holy and loving God. He felt too that it was not possible, as with some mysteries which are simply things unknown, to bow in silence before these conclusions. They involve a necessary ap- peal to moral judgment and feeling, and if in this appeal, repugnance, and not sympathetic conviction is produced, there must be reason to doubt their correctness. " His own conclusion, avowed in many conversations on the subject, was, ' It cannot be, that which our best feelings shrink from cannot be possi- ble to God. In some way or other, he will solve the dark problem of evil in harmony with his righteousness and love.' And here he was con- tented to rest. Mr. Binney propounded no counter theory of universal- ism, or of repentance beyond the grave ; to both he saw, both in the statements of Scripture and in the moral philosophy of things, insuper- able objections. He thought that the exegesis of Scriptural representa- tions needed a thorough re-examination ; and that a reasonable and revet- DOCTRINE OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 435 ent interpretation of the strong language of Scripture was possible which would not necessitate the dogma of eternal suffering. " A few ministers of distinction among the English Congre- gationalists, but only a few, favor the annihilation doctrine. In the letters of Thomas Erskine, of Linlathen, the au- thor of the noted work on the Internal Evidence of Revelor tion, the doctrine of universal restoration is professed and supported. The main foundation of this belief is made to be the fatherly character of God as revealed in the Bible. A father can never cease from the endeavor to make his child righteous. The Father of the spirits of all flesh will not throw off his care for the souls of his children when they leave this world ; the supposition that he will, grows out of false conceptions of his justice and righteousness, which are not separrable from his love. No human being, it is held by Mr. Erskine, can be beyond the reach of God's grace and the sanctifying power of his spirit.* The love of God will attain to its end and aim. This he supposes to be defi- nitely taught by the apostle Paul in the 5th and 11th chap- ters of the Epistle to the Komans.f By these full and explicit declarations of the apostle, the language in Matt. XXV. must be intei-preted. " Eternity has nothing to do with duration." " I think eternal means essential in opposition to phenomenal. So eternal life is God's own life ; it is essen- tial life ; and eternal punishment is the misery belonging to the nature of sin, and not coming from outward causes." % " I do not believe that ala)vco<;, the Greek word rendered * eternal' and * everlasting ' by our translators, really has that meaning. I believe that it refers to man's essential or spiritual state, and not to time, either finite or infinite. Eternal life is living in the love of God ; eternal death is living in self ; so that a man may be in eternal life or in eternal death for ten minutes, as he changes from one state to another." § * Vol. ii., p. 243. t P- 239. X P- 135. § P. 240. 436 A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE One of the earliest American works in defence of the theory of restoration was The Salvation of all Men Ex- amined, bj Dr. Charles Chauncej, which was printed in London in 1784. Dr. Chauncey advocates this theory, .but he maintains that, if it be rejected, the alternative doctrine which next to this is best supported, is that of annihilation. The " mipardonable sin " is a sin of which the full penalty is exacted ; but this penalty is not everlasting. The reply to Chauncey by Dr. Jonathan Edwards is marked by ex- traordinary logical acumen, and by no small degree of acute- ness in the exegetical part of the discussion. One promi- nent topic in his book is the true nature or end of punish- ment in the divine government. Edwards argues that the penalty of sin in the future life is not disciplinary, but vin- dicative in its intent. If it be of the nature of chastisement, why is it called a " curse ? " Dr. Chauncey had asserted that future punishment is graduated according to the vary- ing deserts of offenders. Dr. Edwards charges his opponent with a confusion of ideas. If all the condemned are pun- ished according to the degree of their guilt, what distinction is there between him who suffers for the unpardonable sin, and transgressors generally ? Since the rise of the Universalist denomination in this country, numerous works have appeared on the subject be- fore us ; but it is impossible, in this place, to refer to them individually. We subjoin to the foregoing sketch one or two sugges- tions, which may afford material for reflection to those who are interested in tracing a theological system to its roots, and . in observing the transformations which it may undergo in the lapse of time. Strict Calvinism was a symmetrical and coherent system. It was constructed from the teleological point of view. The starting-point was God and his eternal purpose. The end was made to be the manifestation of his love and his justice, conceived of as co-ordinate. The salvation of some, and the DOCTRINE OF FUTUEE PUNISHMENT. 437 condemnation of others, are the means to this end. The motive of redemption is love to the elect, for whom all the arrangements of Providence and grace are ordered. The cap-stone was placed upon the system by the supralapsarians, who followed Calvin's strong language in the Institutes (but not elsewhere, especially not in his Commentaries)^ and made the fall and sin of mankind, like creation itself, the object of an efficient decree — means to the one supreme end ; for if mercy and righteousness are to be exerted in the sal- vation and condemnation of sinners, a world of sinners must first exist. There was rebellion against this system. [N^ot to speak of the different theology of the Lutherans — in the French Cal- vinistic school of Saumur, wherever Arminianism prevailed, in the modified Calvinism of the New England churches, it was asserted that in " the intention of love," Christ died for all, that God's love extends over all, in the sense that he de- sires them to be saved, yearns toward them, and offers them help. This mode of thought has more affinity to the Greek an- thropology than has rigid Calvinism, or its Augustinian pro- totype. The teleological point of view is less prominent ; it stands in the background. The universal love and pity of God, the broad design of the atonement, are the central points. The more rigid Calvinism often protested against this modification of the system : it considered the whole theodicy imperiled by it : it saw in it a drift and tendency towards other innovations subversive of the system. For if this is universal, yearning love is at the basis of re- demption, will it not be suggested that this love vrill not fail of its end ? Will the heart of God be disappointed of its object ? Will the Almighty be baffled by the creaturely will ? If Christ died for all, will he be " satisfied " with anything short of the recovery of all ? As a matter of historical fact, belief in restoration and 438 SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF FUTURE PUNISHMENT. kindred doctrines are seen to spring up, in different quarters, in the wake of the mitigated form of theology to which we have referred. [N^ot that such beliefs are logically required. All d priori reasoning must be subject to the correction of experience. There is a terrible reign of sin, though all sin is contrary to the will of God ; there is a development of sinful charac- ter, a hardening of the heart, a persistent resistance — " how often would / . . . . but ye would not ; " " woe unto thee, Chorazin, woe unto thee, Bethsaida ; " there is a stern, trag- ic side to nature and to human life. We stand within a sphere where results are not worked out by dint of power, but where freedom, under moral law, with all the peril, as well as possibility of good, which freedom involves, is an es- sential attribute of our being. No speculations on the prob- lem of the theodicy can have the certainty that belongs to the law which is verified by conscience and experience: " Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." RATIONALISM. 4:39 RATIONALISM.* At the threshold of all enlightened investigation of reli- gious truth stands the question, What are the sources of knowledge on the subject? On this first and fundamental question, opinion is divided. We may leave out of the account, for the present, the Eastern Church, which has now for a thousand years exhibited few signs of intellectual life, and these mostly in the shape of occasional outbreak- ings of polemical fervor against its great rival in the West. Proud of its illustrious teachers of the patristic age — Chry- sostom, the Gregories, Basil, Athanasius — and of those an> cient councils which are alone regarded as oecumenical, the Greek Church haughtily denies the claim of the Roman bishop to more than a titular and honorary precedence, yet agrees with the Latins in recognizing tradition and church authority. Turning to Western Christendom, we find three parties in reference to the question already stated — the Roman Catholic, the evangelical Protestant, and the Rationalist. The Roman Catholic and the Protestant have common ground. They both acknowledge a supernatural, divine revelation. They both admit an authoritative teaching, ob- jective, or outside of the individual. They both profess that all this teaching, all of Christian truth that has been revealed from heaven, is to be traced back to Christ and his apostles. It is only since the Reformation, to be sure, that the Roman Catholic Church has thus limited its doctrine of tradition. In the middle ages, tenets were in some instances * A Lecture in Boston in 1870, forming paxt of a Course of Lectures by different persons, on " Christianity and Skepticism." 440 RATIONALISM. attributed to a post-apostolic revelation. This is done, for example, by Gerson, in the case of the Yirgin's Immaculate Conception and the Assumption ; and by Occam in respect to the dogma of Transubstantiation. But the prevailing and established theory now is, that the tradition which is the supplement of Scripture includes only apostolic teaching orally transmitted. The church defines the faith ; discerns more and more of its meaning, and promulgates what it discerns, but adds nothing to the original deposit. But the Eoman Catholic interposes, between the individual and Christ, the church ; that is, the visible body organized under the hierarchy of which the Roman bishop is the head. This is the radical, defining characteristic of their system. In keeping with it, the church is held to be at once the in- fallible custodian and infallible interpreter of both Scripture and tradition — the written and the oral teachings of Christ and the apostles. This last position, together with the the- ory of the church that underlies it, the evangelical Prot- estant rejects. He may allow that the oral teaching of the apostles, if we could get at it, would be as authoritative as their writings ; but he denies that any safe and sure channel has been provided for its transmission. And, even as to Scripture, he denies that the church in any age is an unerr- ing expounder. Hence ail that part of the Homan Catholic creed which he cannot find confirmed in the Scriptures he discards. Tenets, which, if they claim any support from the Bible, rest on alleged obscure intimations of Scripture, are not admitted to be a part of the Christian faith. There is truth in the well-known aphorism, " The Bible, the Bible, is the religion of Protestants ! " It is perfectly consistent with this position to hold that the logical implications of the primitive teaching are more and more unfolded to view in the progress of society ; that the ethics of the Gospel are developed in new directions and applications ; that Christian life is a commentary on Christian truth. We may allow some grains of truth in the mystical and ideal conception RATIONALISM. 441 of the church's authority which Mohler and other liberal Catholics have undertaken to propound ; but, when all rea- sonable concessions have been made, there remains a radical antagonism. The distinguishing note of rationalism is the rejection of authoritative teaching, the disbelief in supernatural revela- tion. Whatever special view he may take of the Bible — whether he adopt the low estimate of Thomas Paine, who said that he could write a better book himself ; or the higher estimate of those who pronounce it a lofty product of human genius — the Rationalist denies that the Bible is in any proper sense the rule of faith. The prophets and apostles teach with no authority that does not belong to them in common with all poets and philosophers and preachers. There is nothing properly miraculous either in the origin of their doctrine, or in the evidences that support it. This is the common ground of rationalism in all of its various types. The Atheist, the Pantheist, and the Deist unite in this negation of the supernatural as connected with the origin of Christianity and the Christian system of doctrine. I am aware, that, in so general a classification, there must be embraced under the term rationalism dissimilar phases of character and opinion. There are Rationalists in fact, but not in spirit. If there is positive and downright infi- delity at one extreme, there is an approach to faith at the other. There are men — a numerous class in these days — who can believe only as they can assimilate religious truth ; who seek for it, therefore, with an earnest heart, though under a cloud of doubt. Could they discern the harmony of Christian truth with their intellectual and moral nature, could they set this truth in a close and vital relation to the soul, they would be satisfied. This immediate, living per- ception is what they most crave. For such, as we may hope to indicate, there is a way out of their present position. Were the principle of division some other than the one we have chosen — which is the position taken with reference to 19* 442 EATIONALISM. the sources of knowledge — they might fall into a different category; but, as long as their criterion for judging and ascertaining what is true in religion remains a purely subjec- tive one, they adopt the distinctive rationalistic principle. Modem scepticism and unbelief, or the whole movement which in its different phases and stages is termed rational- ism, is often charged by Roman Catholic theologians upon Protestantism. It is unjustly declared to be the legiti- mate fruit of the Eeformation. The ancient foes of Chris- tianity in the field of thought — Celsus, Lucian, Porphyry, and the rest — were heathen writers, standing outside of the church. In the mediaeval age, scepticism came mostly from the Arabic schools in Spain, and was prevented from gain- ing a foothold through the efforts of Aquinas and other great teachers of the thirteenth century. But before the Reformation, through the disgust that arose against the scliolastic theology, and through the influence of classical and literary studies connected with the revival of learning, widespread tendencies to scepticism had become rife in the southern nations of Europe. Neander, in an essay read be- fore the Berlin Academy, quotes a remarkable sentence from a letter of Melanchthon, in which the keen-sighted re- former says tliat far more serious disturbances {longe gram- ores tumultus) would have ensued had not Luther arisen to turn the studies of men in a new direction. The Reforma- tion was a powerful religious movement, which was strong enough to stifle the germs of scepticism far and wide, and which made itself felt with most wholesome results within the Catholic Church itself. The rise of men like Fenelon and the Jansenists must be ascribed to the indirect agency of the Protestant Revolution ; but the humanistic spirit, witli the sceptical turn that accompanied it among the Latin nations, continued in France. In the seventeenth century, if Luther's Bible was the popular book in Germany, Plu- tarch's Lives had a like place in France ; and the spirit to RATIONALISM. 443 which I have referred found expression in the genial scepti- cism of Montaigne. Without doubt, the decline of relig- ion in the Protestant churches, the incessant controversies among them, and especially the partial sacrifice of the Prot- estant spirit of liberty in a partisan zeal for creeds, must bear a portion of the responsibility for the infidel reaction that followed. The Protestant scholasticism of the seven- teenth century had an effect like that of the Catholic scho- lasticism of the fourteenth. But the deism of the last cen- tury found the most welcome reception in France. Voltaire was not bred a Protestant. Owing to causes, among which the degeneracy of Protestantism as compared with the spirit of piety and freedom that belonged to it at the outset was one, deism obtained a foothold in Germany and England, as well as in the Catholic countries. As Neander truly remarks, the spirit that characterized deism, if logical, and consistent with itself, must lead to the rejection of the supernatural altogether. Pantheism, which identifies God with Nature, is, therefore, the natural successor of deism ; although the forms which pantheism took were due to the course of philosophical speculation of which they were the immediate product. At the present time, scepticism and unbelief are far from being confined to Protestant lands. Renan is the name most frequently coupled with that of Strauss. Wherever there is intellectual activity in Catholic countries, scepticism, either hidden or avowed, is prevalent. We have seen lately in Spain how the hatred of the eccle- siastical system of the Roman Catholic Church takes the form of a rejection, and even denunciation, of aU revealed religion. Evangelical Protestantism puts no tyrannical yoke upon reason. It does not concede that any contrariety exists be- tween the Christian faith and reason. When Augustine affirmed that faith precedes knowledge, he meant that Christianity is a practical system, adapted to practical ne- 444 RATIONALISM. cessities of the soul, and must, therefore, be applied or ex- perienced before it can be comprehended. It is a case where insight follows upon life ; where one must taste and see: but that good reasons can be given for the act of Christian consecration in the soul, and good evidence in be- half of the truth that is then received, he, and the school- men who followed him in this religious philosophy, f ullj be- lieved. It was the maxim of Socrates and Plato even, that men must be improved before they can be instructed. Pas- cal was not a sceptic in his philosophy, as some of his crit- ics have charged: he maintained that faith is reasonable, though not reached by a chain of reasoning ; and this be- cause it is an act of the soul, conformed to higher intuitions. Hume, Gibbon, and other free-thinkers of the last century, caricatured the position of Christian theology, when they ironically, with "the grave and temperate irony," which Gibbon says that he learned from The Provincial Letters^ spoke of the truths of religion as received by faith alone, in the absence of, or in the face of, unanswerable arguments. What, then, in the view of the evangelical Protestant, is the place of reason ? First, he allows and claims for the human soul a native recognition, however obscure it may have become through sin, of the verities of natural religion — God, freedom, accountableness, immortality. Secondly, he concedes the necessity of establishing the supernatural origin of the gospel, and of the mission of Christ, by com- petent evidence. Christ and the apostles, in preaching to Jews, naturally took for granted that groundwork of relig- ious beliefs which was accepted by their hearers. They had only to evince that Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah. Yet it is remarkable how frequently in the discoTirses of Christ — how habitually, it might be said — an appeal is made directly to the moral and spiritual nature. How con- stant is the recognition of those primary convictions which are inwrought into the soul by its Maker! He rebukes men who can predict the weather from signs in the sky for RATIONALISM. 445 not interpreting aright the signs of the times, and for not deducing from phenomena that fell under their own obser- vation the proper inference ; and he adds to this censure the memorable words, " Yea, and why, even of yourselves, judge ye not what is right ? " In preaching to the heathen, the apostles argued the case. They set forth the truths of natural religion, which the heathen in part acknowledged ; and then they proceeded to establish by testimony the facts of the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. It was, throughout, an appeal to the intelligence of their auditors. So it has been since among all considerate defenders of the Christian faith, as the copious library of "Apologies will bear witness. Thirdly, it is requisite to investigate the question of the authorship of the books which enter into the canon, wherever honest doubts arise on the subject. The authority of the church on this point a consistent Protestant cannot admit. The church, as an historical witness, is entitled to speak. The reception, by the early church, of books as apostolic, is certainly a strong, and in many cases a conclusive, argument in favor of so regarding them ; but the church, like other witnesses, must submit to be cross-examined. We discard from the Old Testament canon the so-called apocryphal books, because we know from ancient testimony that they formed no part of the Scrip- tures that were used by Christ and the apostles — no part of the Hebrew canon ; and we charge the Church of Kome with being uncritical in incorporating them into the Bible, and pronouncing them, as it does in the Creed of Trent, a part of Holy Scripture. Jerome taught the reformers, on this matter, what Augustine with his defective scholarship did not know. But the Protestant is equally bound not to shrink from the investigation of the New Testament canon whenever he is fairly challenged to this work. Thus in the fourth century, as Eusebius tells us, there were several books in regard to which the church was divided in opin- ion; some regarding them as apostolic, and others taking 446 EATIONALISM. the opposite view. At this time, zeal for uniformity was stronger than zeal for independent study ; and the doubtful questions were disposed of without much inquiry. At an earlier day, the state of things was different ; for there did not exist in the second century that indifference to the gen- uineness of books, and ready credulity, which Strauss and many other infidel writers falsely attribute to the early church. But the church of the fourth and fifth centuries, on these particular questions to which I have referred, was rather uncritical. Not that the doubt which Eusebius re- ports is at all conclusive against the books in question ; but it is one suflScient reason, if there were no other, why there should be candid and fearless investigation : and so Luther and the first reformers held. For the settlement of the canon the enlightened Protestant will demand historical testimony, in the shape both of internal evidence and ex- ternal authentication, of such a nature as to convince the imbiassed judgment. Fourthly, he admits that no amount of evidence can justify belief in propositions that are either self -contradictory, or in conflict with known truth. He ad- mits, that, if such doctrines were to be found in the Bible, it would so far detract from the authority of the book, and might disprove the supernatural origin of the Christian sys- tem. But, just here, the evangelical Protestant interposes a protest against the rash, superficial, and sometimes flip- pant assertion, that doctrines are irrational because they are in some respects mysterious, or because they clash with somebody's scheme of philosophy. There has been an in- finite amount of confident but shallow denial of Christian doctrine on grounds which a change in the reigning phi- losophy renders obsolete. Pationalism may often be left to confute itself. For example, the old. Kantian Rationalism, which, in common with the Anglo-French Deism that went before, cast out the doctrines, which, like the Trinity, it could not square with its own preconceived ideas, was, for this very reason, treated by Hegel and his associates of the RATIONALISM. 44^7 speculative school with great contempt. The professors who had supposed themselves to have reduced Christianity to a rational system, by eliminating mysteries and trying everything by the touchstone of common-sense, found them- selves charged by the more advanced school with a deplor- able want of philosophical grasp. Theories of religion and philosophy which are easy^ which present no hard prob- lems, no unanswered questions, no vistas that the eye can- not explore, find ready credence for a while ; but they are short-lived, because flat and insufficient. A " Christianity not mysterious " can take but a feeble hold of the convic- tions of men. Fifthly, the evangelical Protestant is free in the interpretation of the Bible. He is bound to no view of a passage simply because it is traditional. Whatever light antiquarian and philological study may throw on the pages of the Bible, he is thankfully to accept. The text, the translation, the exegesis, are fixed by no authority which supersedes the exercise of private judgment. Protestant- ism, on the one hand, vindicates the importance of learning as an aid in the interpretation of the Scriptures; and, on the other hand, asserts for the humblest individual, provi- ded he be endued with an honest heart, the power of arriv- ing at the general sense of the Bible, and of attaining the knowledge that is requisite for the guidance of life and the attainment of salvation. The true relation of philosophy to faith, of reason to revelation, it is not difficult to define. Philosophy was styled by Anselm the ancilla, or handmaid of religion. The office of philosophy was conceived by the schoolmen to be that of elucidating and establishing the contents of faith. The truth which faith lays hold of, reason demonstrates. This did not, of necessity, imply a degradation of philoso- phy ; since the schoolmen, one and all, held that faith has an independent root of its own in our moral and spiritual nature, and is, in the highest sense, reasonable. But the 448 KATIONALISM. limited scope allowed to philosophical investigation, without doubt, hampered its development. With Descartes the new era began. It was recognized that philosophy may and must start with the data of consciousness, and erect its own structure with entire independence ; taking nothing for granted, and borrowing nothing from other branches of knowledge. And here we come to the precise distinction between philosophy and Christian theology, and, by conse- quence, to the real relations of reason and faith. Chris- tianity is an historical religion. Unlike the philosopher, the theologian proceeds on the basis of historical facts. These facts — the life, miracles, death, resurrection, of Christ — constitute the starting-point of theology. We know that a sound philosophy must harmonize with them, or find room for them, because we know that they are well attested, and truth is not in conflict with itself. When, therefore, a new scheme of philosophy is broached which is incompati- ble with the Christian faith, we conclude that it must be to that extent false. Yet an inquisitive Christian mind will not be satisfied until it has detected the particular fallacies and errors which enter into such a system : in other words, it will not be satisfied fully until a theoretical has been ad- ded to the practical refutation of it. For example, the Ger- man philosophers after Kant, inspired largely by Spinoza, brought forward pantheistic systems claiming to solve all problems, and explain the universe. These systems involve the denial of a supernatural revelation, because they deny the supernatural altogether ; and, of course, they rule out the facts of Christianity. This was clearly seen when Strauss applied the Hegelian principles to the discussion of the gospel history, and when Baur did the same with refer- ence to the origin of Christianity and of the J^ew Testament writings. It is plain, that when the facts, the reality of which is thus impugned, are established, the philosophy at variance with them is overthrown ; yet the confutation is not radical and complete until the philosopher is met on his RATIONALISM. 449 own ground, and convicted of unfoimded assumptions or reasonings. Then his edifice is subverted from the founda- tion. Tlie generality of Christians are not called upon to undertake such a work : it belongs to thinking and educated men. There is many a spectre in regard to which the un- learned Christian has a right to say, when it crosses his path, " Thou art a scholar, Horatio : speak to it ! " If rationalism is taken in the broad sense, in which it is equivalent to disbelief in revelation, it is found in three forms — atheism, pantheism, and deism ; atheism being, for the most part, an explicit or disguised materialism. The criti- cal attacks on the Scriptures, dating from Semler, would form properly a distinct chapter in the history of rational- ism ; yet, as they have sprung from a philosophical princi- ple or bias, they might be placed under the head of deism or pantheism. The rationalistic critics of the school of Kant belong under the former head ; those of the school of Hegel, under the latter. It is not my purpose to treat the subject historically, but to characterize briefly types of ra- tionalism which now present themselves to observation. First, there are those systems which utterly deny or ignore the religious nature of man. The most prominent of them is the so-called positive philosophy, in the form in which it was propounded by its founder. Mr. J. S. Mill maintains that either theism or atheism may be held in consistency with positivist principles. This position, M. Littre, the leading disciple of Comte, earnestly combats. Comte was himself an atheist. This is the proper inference from the doctrines of his system. Religion is declared to be an excrescence upon human nature ; or, rather, it is one of those fancies or delusions which belong to the childhood of the race, and vanish with the development of intelligence. Comte makes the incredible mistake of looking for the prime origin of religion in an effort of the understanding to explain the phenomena of Nature. Religion he makes the 450 RATIONALISM. result of the personifying instinct, which at the outset en- dues all things with personal life. The errors involved in his famous generalization, according to which mankind pass through the successive stages of religion, metaphysics, and positivism, have been frequently exposed. We are con- cerned at this moment with the stupendous mistake which he commits of ignoring the relation which religion has to conscience and the deepest feelings of the soul. One would think that a simple survey of the operation of religion in the world, the mighty power it has exercised in human society, the wide space it fills in human history, would be sufficient to convince a man that it arises from native, profound, ine- radicable sentiments and tendencies of the soul. Even the evil that religion, when unenlightened, has caused in the world — the strife and bloodshed and misery — might teach one that the principle or sentiment from the abuse of which all these baleful effects grow is an indestructible element of human nature ; otherwise the poet would not have had oc- casion to write the familiar words — ** Tantum religio potuit snadere malonim." Religion is rather to be compared, in the source and ex- tent of its influence, with the social tendency. Some who have called themselves philosophers have said that society is artificial ; the natural condition of man being that of seclu- sion and solitude, and social existence being a device to avoid certain inconveniences, and secure certain comfoi-ts. This theory, if it ever found serious acceptance, was long ago given up. It is acknowledged that the individual by him- self is not complete ; that we are naturally, as well as by grace, members one of another. Solitude is, therefore, one of the shortest roads to the mad-house. The marvellous gift of language, the instrument of social intercourse, is the testimony of nature that we exist for this end ; for it is hardly probable that this wonderful power was given us RATIONALISM. 451 that we might indulge in soliloquies. Place a human being in utter solitude ; suppose him to be ignorant that other be- ings like himself exist : the sense of loneliness, the vague but intense craving for social converse, the deep yearning of his soul, testify that he is out of his element, that he has lost a part of his being. There is a nistcs, an unfulfilled exertion, a searching, unresting desire. So it is in respect to religion. The state of a man without religion, without God, is similar. Our belief in God does not appear at first in the form of a deduction, in the form of a proposition, but in the form of trust, reverence, fear, gratitude, supplication — in the form of dependence and obligation ; in the same way that the social instinct makes itself manifest in the child reaching out and groping for another. Psychology is too often defective in failing to state, or even to consider, the propensities of the spiritual nature, on which, after all, human experience and history so much depend. The evidences or arguments for the being of God call out and meet an inward testimony of the soul, of the character which I have indicated. There is an inward nisus, as in the eye when in quest of light. There is a gravitating of the soul towards the being who reveals himself in the consciousness and in the law that is written on the heart. Men like Pascal have been called sceptics, only because they found belief, not on external proofs, but on the intuitions of the spirit. It cannot be denied that those systems which are allied in spirit to positivism — whether their advocates call Comte their master, or, abjuring him, claim to be followers of Hume, or to follow nobody — have strong affinities, not to say a logical relationship, with materialism and atheism. Mr. Herbert Spencer holds to the relativity of knowl- edge — the sceptical doctrine which comes down from the sophists, that nothing is known as it is in itself ; that is, that nothing is truly known — and from this assumption he de- duces the corollary that God is utterly unknown. What he or it is, it is impossible to say. But religion is the commu- 452 RATIONALISM. nion of man with a personal being ; and, if God cannot be affirmed to be a person, religion is no more. Mr. Huxley, giving to albumen, the old term for the material substance that enters into living beings, the name of " protoplasm," avows his belief that what we call the soul is the product of a certain disposition of material molecules. But then " mat- ter " itself is said to be only a name for states of conscious- ness ; and the same is true of " spirit." Matter and spirit are identified in a sort of monism that denies both, or as- serts both to be phenomenal. By this unexpected turn, he saves himself from the open assertion of what Sir William Hamilton likes to call the "dirt philosophy" — the philos- ophy, namely, which teaches that the rational soul is made of dirt, or that both are of one substance. Mr. Huxley pro- fesses to build on Hume. He speaks of metaphysics in a tone of supercilious contempt ; yet, like the rest of the ex- treme empirical school, he is unable to find a basis for in- duction, or any real validity for the generalizations of his own science. He raises the question. How can we predict the future ? how can we know from our past experience that the next stone we throw into the air will descend to the earth? Casting away all metaphysical theories, he pro- ceeds to assign two reasons : First, all the stones that have been thrown up have fallen. But the question is. How can we infer from this fact that the same thing will happen ? On what ground can we infer the future from the past ? Plainly, he does not advance an inch in solving the ques- tion. His second ground is equally remarkable : we have no reason to the contrary, but every reason to expect that it will fall ; that is to say, we believe that the stone will fall for the reason that there is every reason to expect it will ! In this peculiar style does our great foe of metaphysics handle a philosophical question. And yet, in his own de- partment of investigation, he is an able observer and a learned man. Mr. Mill is not so unwary ; still, in his oppo- sition to an d^'iori and spiritual philosophy, and in his RATIONALISM. 463 zeal for the empirical tendency, he barely saves himself from pronouncing the human mind merely a series of sensations; he offers no explanation of the' way in which he can know that any other being exists but himself, and can find no theory of induction which does not involve a plain paralo- gism. In the field of history, the empirical school has found a representative in Buckle — a writer who has dipped into a multitude of books, but brings to his ambitious enterprise no thoroughness of learning in any single department ; who starts with the principle, that every new fact is the necessary product of antecedent facts, and that both Providence and free-will are a delusion, and count for nothing. The ma- chinery of physical laws, either material or intellectual, takes the place of personal agency. History is a drama where the actors are automatons, and through which runs no divine purpose. All that gives interest and pathos to the story of human affairs vanishes at the touch of this pretentious but contracted philosophy. It is pleasant to hear the masters of historical study on the Continent, as De Tocqueville in France and Droysen in Germany, utter their warm protest against the narrow theory of Buckle, to say nothing of the inaccuracies of his narrative. On both these points, the ul- timate verdict of aU considerate scholars will be the same. Secondly, there are those — many of whom are not to be reckoned under the class last named — who deny the miracles of Christianity. This unbelief must be traced ultimately to a want of faith in a supernatural order. It springs from a lurking scepticism respecting the primal truths of religion, which may yet be received through the force of a traditional impression. But the disbelief in miracles belongs to many who have not abandoned the belief in a personal God, and have no thought of questioning the truth that man has a rational soul. There is a deistic as well as a pantheistic infidelity. The Epicurean view of the universe, in which the Deity, though admitted to exist, is kept aloof from the 454 RATIONALISM. world, and not allowed to concern himself in human affairs, much less to interpose supernaturally, is not wholly banished from the world. The real alternative is atheism or panthe- ism on the one hand, and Christianity on the other ; but this is not at once perceived. That the apostles testified to the miracles recorded in the New Testament, that they could not be deceived, and were not liars, is a position which all the modern assaults of scep- tical criticism have left unshaken. The impregnable char- acter of this position is every day becoming more manifest. It was admitted by Strauss, Baur, and their associates, that the apostles testified to the resurrection of Jesus ; but Strauss would fain establish the point, that they did not thus testify to the other miracles described in the Gospels. The early date of the synoptical Gospels absolutely precludes the sup- position oi Strauss. If the resurrection is counted a myth, no possible explanation of the origin of it can be given, un- less, at the same time, it is supposed that the disciples had witnessed such miracles before as would account for their expecting it as a possible and probable event. But, if the prior miracles are credited, there is no longer a motive for seeking to resolve the resurrection into a delusive vision or dream of fancy. Moreover, it is evident that the miracles are so intertwined in the life of Jesus with his words and actions, that no consistent conception of that life, as it went on from day to day, can be formed in case the miracles are excluded. Deny the miracles, and you cannot explain the disciples' belief that Jesus was the Messiah ; you cannot ex- plain his own undoubted words in consistency with the hy- pothesis that he was honest ; and -you cannot explain the narratives which embody the testimony of eye-witnesses. It is remarkable that the leading advocates of the mythical hypothesis have felt obliged to give up, to a great extent, their favorite theory, and to resort to the hypothesis of a conscious deception by the New Testament authors, whom they unsuc- cessfully strive to bring down into an age later than the apos- RATIONALISM. 455 tolic. Henan, too, is forced to adopt the notion of a pious fraud on the part of the founder of Christianity and his chosen disciples, because he cannot escape from the fact of contemporaneous testimony to the miracles, which yet his narrow philosophy cannot allow. It is very characteristic of the whole method and spirit of Renan, that he should re- quire, as an indispensable condition of faith, the performance of miracles at Paris before a council of savans. The moral relations of a miracle, apart from its character as an act of power, he seems utterly to overlook. He might as reasona- bly ask, that before believing in the facts recorded by Euse- bius of the devoted heroism and endurance of Christian women and children, who, in the Roman persecutions, died for the faith, some persons of like condition should consent to go through the same sufferings before a French commis- sion : not that the evidence by which miracles must be es- tablished is the same in kind and degree (this is not the point); but, in both cases, the events are such as occur under the proper moral conditions and surroundings. It may be said, generally, that, of all the recent writers upon the Gospel history, there is no one who makes greater pretentions to critical impartiality than Renan ; and yet there is no one who is more obviously under the sway of sub- jective standards and prepossessions. One of his principal objections to the discourses of Jesus recorded in John is, that they do not suit his taste ; which reminds one of the lines which Goethe puts into the mouth of the old Rational- ist Bahrdt — "Ein Gedanke kommt mirungefahr — So red'te Ich wenn Ich Christus war'."* But even Renan involves himself, by his concessions, in a dilemma, where he is forced either to admit the miracle, or * "Up comes a thought I did not seek — If 1 were Christ, thus would / speak.'* 456 , KATIONALISM. to impeach the truthfulness of the founder of Christianity and his chosen disciples. The whole course of sceptical criticism, if attentively fol- lowed, is seen to be leading really to the inevitable conclu- sion, which will be at length extorted from reluctant minds, that the miraculous events which are set down in the Gos- pels actually took place. Thirdly, there are those who admit the historical truth of miracles and the fact of revelation, but deny that the Scrip- tures are inspired. A distinction is to be made between revelation and inspiration. It is^ quite possible to hold that Jesus performed miracles, and rose from the dead ; to hold that God, who at sundry times and in divers ways spoke unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son ; and, at the same time, to disbe- lieve that supernatural guidance was given to the minds of the sacred writers. They were left, it may be said, to com- prehend and interpret the revelation by the unaided light of their own understanding. This is not an infidel position : it admits fully the supernatural origin of the gospel ; it al- lows that the great transactions occurred which constitute the historic basis of revealed religion. God has made him- self known to men otherwise than in the stated order of nature ; but the view to which I refer leaves us no author- ized interpretation of the facts — no surety that the prophets and apostles did not mistake their import : it leaves, in a word, no authoritative teaching. Whatever varying forms the doctrine of inspiration may assume from the hyper- orthodox view, that the words are dictated, down through all the grades of opinion, evangelical Protestantism holds and cannot surrender the tenet that the Bible is somehow the rule of faith. There is an objective standard — not one, if you please, that dispenses with the need of study, of com- paring Scripture with Scripture, of considering the circum- stances of each writer, of having regard to the progressive character of the revelation — but still an objective standard, RATIONALISM. 457 exalted above the conjectures and speculations of tlie indi- vidual — a divine testimony — an umpire to end the strife. Inspiration is the means to this end. Christ told his follow- ers that they would, after his death, understand what they could not comprehend before ; they would be guided to a true interpretation of what they could not explain in his life and death ; they should be led into all truth in regard to him. He directed them, when they should be arraigned before hostile magistrates, not to hunt up arguments and devise rejoinders, but they should have given them what they should say. Intuition, under the illumination of the Spirit, would supersede contrivance. In short, they were to be, and were qualified to be, competent expositors of the Gospel ; and their teaching was to have a normal authority ; it was to be the supplement and further unfolding of his own divine instruction. Inspiration, therefore, is a truth concern- ing which the evangelical Protestant cannot be indifferent ; it being the source and safeguard of authoritative teaching. nationalism, through all of its numerous and conflicting schools, affirms the full competency of the human mind to discover religious truth for itself. Underneath the rational- istic creed there lies this principal assumption. The great fact that is overlooked is the fact of sin, and the influence of sin upon all parts of human nature. The truth that hu- man nature is not in its normal condition, and that sin has darkened the perceptions of the soul, is avowedly or uncon- sciously set aside. The Pelagian theory lies at the root of ra- tionalism : this lies at the bottom of its denial of the need of external authoritative instruction, of an enlightening and quickening influence upon the mind from without. The consequences that flow respectively from the acknowledg- ment and the virtual denial of the Christian doctrine of sin can hardly be overstated. This doctrine is the one great postulate of the gospel : " They that are whole need not a physician, but they that are sick." It affirms, against Mani- 20 458 EATIONALISM. cliseism and dualism in whatever form, that moral evil be- longs to the human, creaturely will, and comes not from the Creator ; but, with equal earnestness, it asserts the deep and universal dominion of evil among men. There has been a separation of mankind from God. We behold a state of things which compels us either to deny that evil is, and to call evil good, or to assume a mysterious catastrophe, of which revealed religion itself gives, and professes to give, but an imperfect explanation. But, whatever mysteries hang over the origin of sin, two things are certain : one is our personal responsibility for what we are in character — a re- sponsibility to which conscience, the highest witness, clearly testifies ; the other is the baleful effect of sin, not only on society, not only on the pursuits and purposes of the individ- ual, but also on the spiritual perceptions. It is a depart- ment where the bent of the will affects the perception of the intellect ; where mind and heart share a common disas- ter. How is it possible to look abroad on the world, and see what men are, even when placed under the most favor- able conditions ; to review the course of history, and notice what men have done — their conduct to one another, their governments, their literature, their amusements, their social customs, their religions even — ^how is it possible for one to look within himself, and interrogate his own soul, and not acknowledge this great fact of sin — acknowledge that a malady has infected mankind, differing from any other dis- ease only in this, that it emanates from the will, and in- volves guilt ? How is it possible to ignore a fact which all deep-thinking men, heathen or Christian, have united in de- ploring — a fact which Seneca declares almost in the lan- guage of Paul ? The human mind, as an organ for the dis- cernment of God and divine things, is not in the condition in which it would be, had sin not perverted its powers. Vague and doubtful apprehensions need to be enlivened and confirmed by the voice of One who speaks as one hav- ing authority. It is not truth alone that the human soul RATIONALISM. 459 needs, but redemption through One who is himself the truth. But communications of truth respecting God, and our relations to him, will form an essential part of the process which has for its end the restoration of men to communion with God. The Pelagian view of things appears, at the first glance, to be the easiest. It avoids a number of very difficult ques- tions which theology has not yet succeeded, and perhaps never will succeed, in solving. The trouble is, that it omits to recognize or take into the account vast facts which ob- trude themselves upon observation at 'every turn. How well has it been said that sin is the one mystery that makes every thing else plain ! Superficial views on the subject of sin, where the views are not absolutely false and anti-Chris- tian, lie at the foundation of most of the current infidel theories. A truly profound and just view of this sub- ject is the one grand corrective. Every system of panthe- ism assumes, and must assume, w^hat the healthy moral sense of every man denounces as a falsehood — that the en- tire course of this world is normal, and conformed to the ideal ; that baseness and perfidy, and every form of selfish- ness, are well, and even divine, in their • place. It is no wonder that Spinoza and Hegel betray some uneasiness at what are the necessary ethical implications of their systems. Every system of deism likewise assumes that man is able, without aid from above, to acquaint himself, as fully as he needs, wdth God, and to deliver himself from the yoke of evil. The Author of revelation says the whole truth in a word: "Thou hast destroyed thyself; but in me is thy help." Let full justice be done to the position of the Rationalist : his doctrine, in the most refined form, is that of the suprem- acy of reason and the moral sense. There is force and plausibility in the statement ; but let one consideration be noted. Suppose that I am driven to the admission that rea- son and the moral sense within me are not quenched, but 460 RATIONALISM. perverted and obscured ; and suppose that, in Christ, I rec- ognize one in whom, being sinless, reason and the moral sense are clear and perfect, so that his eye sees moral truth with an infallible discernment ; suppose that my conviction of his superiority in this respect is deepened with every day's contemplation of his character and teaching, and that, the more I assume the temper of a disciple, the more is my moral sense quickened and clarified through contact with his spirit : why shall I not recognize him as the authority in this province of morals and religion ? In this act of trust, do I not establish, rather than subvert, the supremacy of reason and conscience ? Be it remembered, also, that this relation to Christ is not one that supplants the exercise of my intelligence and moral sense ; but it is one that rectifies, and at the same time constantly develops, elevates, and edu- cates, these powers of the soul. We call him Lord and Mas- ter ; and so he is : but he does not call us servants, but rath- er friends ; for all things that are made known to him he reveals to us. The relation of dependence is ever turning into that of fellowship and friendship, of sympathy and per- sonal insight. Let a man discern the surpassing excellence of Christ, and the germ of . faith is within him. Kemember that there is an order among things to be believed. You are conscious of sin and moral weakness ; you have lost that filial relation to God which is the birthright of human nature ; but you are struck with the perfect excellence of Christ as he is de- scribed in the Gospels. Here is a character that more than fills out your highest conception of nobleness and virtue ; here is one whose filial communion with God sin has never broken. This character of Christ is the witness to its own reality. It is no product of imagination : the records that exhibit it could never have been framed by invention. But how about the supernatural facts of the history ? They, too, are upheld by the power of this human, and yet superhuman, excellence. You feel that the works of Christ are no more RATIONALISM. 461 wonderful than his words and his life, and that he himself is the greatest wonder of all. Who but he can be the Eec- onciler ? Whose hand can I take but his ? But he proposes to bring us out of our separation from God, and rescue us from the ruin which sin has brought upon human nature. He is at once the instrument and the first example of re- demption ; for in his own person, having overcome sin, he overcomes death. He is the power of life to all who come to him, infusing into them his own holiness and peace, re- connecting them with God, saving them from death. It is a legitimate progress, then, from the first living perception of the excellence of Christ to a personal trust in him as the Saviour, and to a discernment, also, of the inner rationality of the method of redemption. Difficulties respecting this or that portion of the Bible may be left to take care of them- selves, provided they are not obstacles in the way of a prac- tical acquaintance with Christ. Even the Bible is not to be interposed between the soul and Christ. Pie was preached and believed in before the l^ew Testament was written, and to those who knew little or nothing of the Old. Salvation is by faith in him. Believing in him, we stand on safe ground, from which all questions, even such as relate to the Scriptures themselves, may be studied. No loyal disciple need fear the displeasure of his Master on account of intel- lectual difficulties which he is doing his best to solve. It should not be overlooked that Christianity is more than theory or precept : it is fact ; it is a great act of love and sacrifice — an act of God himself. For this reason,int can never be thought out by an a jpriori process, or brought under the category of necessary truth. As sin can never be explained, in the sense of being reduced under the category of cause^ and effect, like a physical event, for the reason that sin is a free act, so it is with redemption. In its very na- ture it is historical : hence philosophy can never bring it into a chain of necessary conceptions. Christianity is some- thing which reason does not evolve out of itself, but wliich 4:62 RATIONALISM. must be received like any other great historical transaction in which free-will plays the essential part. In dealing with rationalism, let it be observed that it is vain, as well as wrong, to attempt to check the freedom of investigation in any province of knowledge. In regard to the beautiful sciences of nature, the rapid progress of which is a leading characteristic of the present age, this remark is especially pertinent. Let the investigation of second causes in nature be carried as far as possible, and let there be no hindrance put in its way. A jealousy on the part of stu- dents and ministers of the gospel with reference to these branches of study is equally unmanly and futile. At the same time, it deserves to be remarked, that, just now, the tendency to speculation is more rife among physical philos- ophers than among metaphysicians ; and theories of nature are brought forward which have a very slender basis of facts to rest upon, and which evince a wide departure from the Baconian method. Those philosophers must not be ten- derly sensitive if their theories are subjected to a rigid criti- cism by theologians, who, to say the least, are, equally with them, trained to habits of logical analysis. We must be ex- cused for not showing the deference to guesses that is prop- erly paid to established truth. Again : it is unjust to charge the clergy and theologians with a standing opposition to new discoveries in physical science. It would be strange if the Christian Church, which has educated the European nations, reduced their languages to writing, founded their schools and universities, saved the ark of learning in the midst of a del- uge of barbarism, were to be found uniformly an obstacle in the path of scientific progress. The fact is, that almost all new discoveries which subvert traditional opinions are looked upon at the outset with distrust, and meet with opposition. This opposition is far from being peculiar to theologians, even in the case of physical discovery. Resistance often comes from the men of science themselves. Galileo, the old RATIONALISM. " 463 example of ecclesiastical intolerance, had his contest to wage with them. There was the scientific professor at Padua, who could not be induced to look through the glass, and see the moons of Jupiter. Why is not more eloquence expended against the narrowness and bigotry of scientific men them- selves in respect to new truth in their own department ? And, if so much progress is claimed for the physical branch- es, why may not some progress be permitted from age to age in the understanding of the Bible and of the nature and boundaries of inspiration ? Once more it must be said, that the natural and physical sciences, beautiful and useful as they are, often claim, just at present, a higher relative place on the scale of studies than justly belongs to them. The study of matter, even the study of living beings below man, and of his material organism, must ever stand in respect to dignity, as an instrument of culture, second to the studies that relate to the mind. " The proper study of mankind is man." Man, and the products of his activity — language, history, literature, art — are the grandest, the most fructifying studies. The opposite view must be withstood, because it can only prevail in alliance with materialistic tendencies and influences. The study of material nature is lauded as being an observation of the thoughts of God, and an examination of his works, instead of the works of man. But the human mind is the great work of God, being his image. More is to be learned from the mind of Shakespeare, concerning God its Creator, than can be gathered from the astronomic system — infinitely more. We would not disparage physical studies ; let them be encouraged, fostered, cultivated, to the utmost : but there are loftier, more inspiring, more edifying branches of study than these. The natural and physical sciences do their best work in the way of mental culture when they are pursued by men who bring to the study of nature an ideal element that flows into the mind from other fountains. Alexander Yon Humboldt, though not belonging to the first order of genius, and not to be compared with men like Xep- 464 RATIONAI.ISM. ler, E'ewton, and Leibnitz, is, nevertheless, an example of the warming and widening influence of literary studies upon a devotee of science. He caught something from the genius of his brother, who was probably the abler man of the two. But rationalism must be met in the field of argument. To this end, apart from the intrinsic interest and value of these studies, the physical sciences must be so far pursued by the student of the gospel as to qualify him to judge of the theories and deductions that bear closely on natural and revealed religion. The two classes of scholars need to know more of one another, and of the wide fields of research in which, respectively, each of them is most at home. Then the naturalist will not ignore the vast range of facts and data that do not lie within his own circle, and a like benefit will accrue to the theologian. The theologian must not set his face against new truth in his own branch. Revelation is complete, but not our un- derstanding of it. Let us not mistake the outpost for the citadel. Let us not imagine that the Christian faith is im- perilled by every proposed modification of received opinions. The effect of historical, philological, and scientific study, is to bring out in bolder relief the human element in the Holy Scriptures. It is more and more felt that " we have this treasure in earthen vessels." If the result is, that tradi- tional formulas are somewhat altered, and new statements must be framed in their place, let it not be supposed that all or that anything truly valuable, is lost. Be it ever remem- bered that " the letter killeth ; the spirit givetli life." Much may be conceded, respecting the Bible, that was once denied ; and yet it is left infallible and sufficient as a rule of faith. There is a power in the Bible to quicken the soul ; to meet our deepest necessities ; to satisfy us when all other sources of wisdom and comfort fail ; "to find us," as Cole- ridge has aptlv expressed it : and this power, made manifest in all ages, and among all conditions of men, is the evidence of his divine origin, and a pledge, that, whatever peculiari- RATIONALISM. 465 ties incidental to its human origin likewise may come to light, it will never lose its hold upon mankind. A good way to make infidels of sharp-sighted and thoughtful men is to identify the truth of the Gospel with untenable formulas respecting the Scriptures ; to make, for example, Chris- tianity stand or fall with the exactness of a genealogical table. Richard Baxter felt this, even in his day. [Never was there a louder call for the utmost candor and fairness in dealing with the difficulties and objections of inquiring minds, whose perplexities find little relief in much of the current and traditional teaching. Where there is no settled hostility to the Christian faith, an irenical, conciliatory spirit on the side of its defenders is eminently called for. " Prove all things, hold fast to that which is good," is the motto for the times. It was a Church father — Tertullian, I believe — who said that it was tradition that nailed Christ to the cross. [Nevertheless, the tenor of the foregoing remarks will pre- vent surprise at the observation, that the most effective an- tidote to the influence of rationalism is found in direct ap- peals to the moral and spiritual nature. There is a testi- mony within, if it can only be called forth. Sometimes the inward witness is awakened by the experiences of life. Robert Hall said that he buried his materialism in the grave of his father. But another providential agent for effecting this result is the prophet's voice. Men are raised up in sceptical times when the higher spiritual nature of men seems dormant, and when the understanding has taken the throne of reason — men whose office it is to appeal with a direct and vivifying power to the intuitive function of the spirit. Among the heathen, this work was done by Socrates, in opposition to the Sophists. He taught men to find with- in themselves, in their own moral intuitions, a certainty which nothing could shake. In modern times, in Germany, when a barren rationalism had paralyzed faith, it was Schleiermacher who recalled men to religion. The high 466 EATIONALISM. privilege was given him to awaken his contemporaries to a sense of the indestructible character and sacred authority of religion. His errors, whatever they may have been, should never prevent us from recognizing the greatness of the ser- vice which he rendered. There is no truly earnest preacher, who speaks from a living experience, who is not carrying forward an effective war against rationalism. Robertson of Brighton, referring to the cry of John the Baptist to the Pharisees and Sadducees, " Who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come ? " raises the question, how such words could be addressed with any hope to Sadducees, who did not believe in a wrath to come, or in any life hereafter. But, says the preacher, when they heard the prophet say, " Who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come ? " they knew that there was a wrath to come. There are re- sponsive chords in the soul, which the truth, when simply asserted with the earnestness of a living conviction, sets in vibration. Arguments are sometimes necessary and useful ; but they may be superfluous, and even harmful. A striking statement that brings truth in direct contact with the spirit, a declaration that comes from insight and experience, may do what reasoning fails to accomplish. A single utterance, which I call, for the want of an equally expressive term, pro- phetical, will sometimes dissipate doubt in a moment, and develop a conviction which intellectual inquiry alone might never awaken. In Germany, it was an orthodox rationalism that paved the way for the heterodox. Theologians took their proposi- tions from the creed, or reasoned them out by processes of logic, but forgot to set them in a living relation to the wants and aspirations of the soul; or they dwelt on the ethical side of the Gospel, to the lieglect of the properly religious elements, in which the originality and power of Christianity chiefly reside. Let not the lesson be lost upon us, who are going through an experience not unlike that through which Germany has, in a sense, already passed. RATIONALISM. 467 There is one final test to which irreligious as well as reli- gious systems are subject; and that is, their influence on society. The Christian religion is the life-blood of the social body. That gone, decay and moral death inevitably follow. Jesus called his followers " the salt of the earth," " the light of the world." They were the light of the world because he is the light of the world, and their light is kindled from him. Let materialism prevail, and, as surely as effects fol- low causes, the appetites of sense and earthly passions will gain an undisputed ascendancy, and overturn at last the social fabric. Let a less gross form of rationalism supplant faith in the verities of the Gospel, and a like appalling result will ultimately, though it may be with slower pace, ensue. History unites with reason in teaching, that, when the re- straints and incentives that flow from religion are lost, there is no power adequate to control the selfish propensities which clamor for indulgence. If men are made to believe that they are merely animals, they will, in the end, behave like the brutes. K they are persuaded that they are desti- tute of a free and responsible nature, they will act without a conscience. If they reject the truth of a righteous moral government, they will sin without fear. If the religion of Christ is treated as a human invention, the regenerating power that lies in the Gospel is wanting. By this last stern test, every irreligious and anti-Christian system which is not otherwise overcome must be tried. Supernatural Christi- anity has been tried as a reformatory agent in millions of individuals, and in society at large. We know what the Gospel can do when it is cordially received. We are not ignorant of what may be expected if atheism, or pantheism, or a Christless deism, should prevail. The fate of the civi- lized heathen nations of antiquity is instructive : so is the history of modem nations which have given themselves up to infidelity. Apart from argument, there remains, then, the great test of experience, " By their fruits ye shall know them." 4:QS THE UNEEAS0NABLENES8 OF ATHEISM. THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM.* The word " fool " commonly means, in the Bible, not a person actually devoid of reason, but one who, having rea- son, fails, through some wrong quality of character, to use it aright, but proceeds in his thinking or conduct in a way contrary to the dictates of a soimd intelligence. There are two sorts of fools ; first, natural fools, and secondly, fools from choice — or those who, from haste or conceit, or some evil inclination, occult it may be, are grossly misled in their opinions, or in their practical action. When, for example, we read in the Proverbs that " Judgments are prepared for sinners, and stripes for the back of fools ; " and, in another place, " Though thou shouldst bray a fool in a mortar among wheat with a pestle, yet will not his foolishness depart from him," the allusion is plainly not to men whose native talents are below the average, and whose attainments of knowledge are small. Everything like contempt for inferiors of this class is utterly at variance with the spirit of Christianity. The pride of knowledge, like eveiy other kind of pride, is rebuked in the Bible. But the allusion is to one who, while possessed of the attributes of a rational being, chooses, nevertheless, to adopt principles, or pursue lines of conduct, that are perfectly unreasonable. Even then, to call another " fool " in any bitter temper, to despise or hate him for any cause, is forbidden in the Sermon on the Mount. Yet there is nothing to hinder us from designating folly, not passion- ately, but in a calm and sober way, by its true name. Not * A Discourse in the chapel of Yale Colleg-e (October 22, 1876), on the text : " The fool hath said in his heart, ' There is no God.' " Ps. xiv. 1. THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. 469 to tarry longer upon the explanation of words, I wish to speak of the folly of atheism under two heads; first, the futility of the reasons that lead to it, and secondly, the strength of the evidence for the being of God which it ig- nores. Among the sources of atheism, one is the fact that God is imperceptible by the senses. The remark has been at- tributed to La Place that, searching the heavens, he could not find God with his telescope. It is doubtful whether he ever said it. But whether he did or not, it indicates the spirit that often tacitly underlies theoretical and practical atheism. God, when sought for as a visible object, cannot be found by traversing the sea, or exploring the sky, even if one pursued his journey to the farthest star. But what folly to conclude that God does not exist, because he is not visible ! Men — unless you call the body the man — are not visible. The thinking principle, neither in yourself nor in others, have you ever seen. You may say that you are con- scious of it in yourself. But how do you know that it ex- ists in another — in the friend, for example, who sits at your side? You cannot see it: all that you behold is certain manifestations, or phenomena — certain visible and tangible signs — which reveal its presence. You may be in daily, in- timate converse with another, but his soul ever remains in- visible: for " We are spirits clad in veils : Man by man was never seen : All our deep communing faOs To remove the shadowy screen." * Why then disbelieve in God because you cannot see him ? If through the look, the tone, the gesture of a man at your side you can infer, or behold with the eye of faith, the in- visible mind that resides within, the seat of thought and af- fection, why not recognize the Supreme Intelligence, of * From a poem of C. P. Cranch. 470 THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. whom it is true, as an apostle has said, that " The invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead ? " Even within the sphere of material nature, invisible forces, some of them of vast energy, are admitted to exist. They tell us that matter is composed of atoms : who has seen them ? Who has seen the force of gravitation,* and can paint a likeness of it ? Who has beheld the subtle ether which, it is believed, per- vades all space ? He who believes in nothmg but what he, or somebody else has seen, will have a short creed. Even if he admit the reality of matter and molecular motion, he will have to deny the existence of any such thing as a power of thought or volition — a principle of intelligence — behind the actions and expressions of his fellow-men. He must deny that he is endued with such a power himself. There is no need to go farther. When he has emptied the world of everything but brute matter, which can be weighed and clutched, or brought under the laws of molecular action, he may, perhaps, logically reject God. A second source of atheism, is the notion that as far as second causes are brought to light, the first cause is excluded, or the notion that second causes are disconnected from God. In the Bible, we read, in a sentence that has hardly a paral- lel for beauty : "By the Word of the Lord were the heavens made, and all the host of them by the breath of his mouth." ISTow suppose the nebular hypothesis, as broached by Herschel and La Place, to be true. Whether it be true or not, I cannot say : the astronomers have not yet • made up their minds about it. But suppose it to be true. Then a homogeneous, nebulous matter diffused abroad in space, by a long process of attractions and repulsions, combinations and motions, solidified into the bodies and sys- tems which now form the sidereal world. Does this rule out the sublime declaration of Scripture — " By the Word of the Lord were the heavens made, and all the host of them THE UNBEASONABLKNESS OF ATHEISM. 471 by the breath of his mouth ? " Before attending to this question, let us turn for a moment to another illustration. A person, after a lingering illness, dies. The minister and the physician happen to be together. The minister says : " It has pleased Grod to terminate the life of our brother." " Ko," says the doctor, " he died of a fever." " You are wrong," replies the minister, " it is God — it is he that killeth and that maketh alive." " You are wrong," rejoins the other, " I have watched the progress of the fever from the beginning : such a fever seizing upon such a constitution can have no other issue." The one party falls back on religious conviction, and the testimony of the Bible ; the other ap- peals to the obvious connection of antecedent and conse- quent. I>[ow shall this unseemly wrangle between the min- ister and the doctor be dignified by the high-sounding name of " a conflict between religion and science ? " In such a contest, both are right in what they affirm, and wrong in what they deny. Let all the links of secondary causation be exposed as completely as possible, each of them bound to the one before and after it, it is not less true that, when life ends, it is God who brings it to an end. The instrument used does not exclude, it includes his agency. If a bird is shot by a rifle, it is a man still that kills the bird. Many appear to think that God is to be found, if found at all, only at the origin of things — the origin of matter, the origin of life, the origin of different species — at crises, so to speak. But " he maketh his sun to rise " — daily maketh his sun to rise — " on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." He is present with his agency in the course of nature not less really and efficiently than at the begin- nings of nature. He is the primal fountain from which all force emanates. " Not a sparrow falls to the ground without your Father." We revert now to the question of the origin of the stellar universe. God is not less its author even if the material of which it is composed were carried through a succession of changes, reaching through a long series of ages. 472 THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. There is, to be sure, tlie origination of the material to be accounted for, with all its latent properties and tendencies. But God is presupposed not only at this initial stage, but at every subsequent movement, until the glorious work was consummated. " By the Word of the Lord " — by his will and in pursuance of his plan — " were the heavens made." Science has for its business the investigation of second causes. Let it have a fair field. I sympathize with the re- sentment which the students of nature feel when the at- tempt is made to furnish them with conclusions beforehand. Their peculiar province is to unfold all the links of second- ary causation — every nexios between antecedent and conse- quent—which they can ferret out. But the origin of things — I mean, the primary origin — and the end, or design, it belongs to philosophy, in the light of revelation, to define. The man of science may, also, be a philosopher ; and he may not be.* The particular fallacy, however, which I would here point out is the false and unauthorized assumption that where secondary causation begins, divine agency ceases, and that as far as secondary causation extends, divine agency is excluded. How much nobler is the conception of the Bible, in the E^ew Testament as well as in the Old ! It is God by whom the lilies of the field are clothed with beauty. The fowls of the air — it is your Heavenly Father that feedeth them ! Closely allied to the fallacy just named is the assumption that mechanical causes are incompatible with design. Much * It is a remark of Archbishop Whately, to be found somewhere in his biography, and a remark characteristic of his sagacity, that science has nothing to do with religion. If I ask a man of science for the origin of an eclipse, it is not for him, that is, not for him in his character as a man of science, to answer that God caused it. This I knew before. His func- tion is to explain the antecedents which constitute the ground on which the event can be predicted. What is true of an eclipse is true of every- thing else in nature. With respect to the origin of man, it is perfectly legitimate, it is, in fact, the proper function of the scientific man, to find out the mediating process — if there was one — in his creation. THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. 473 of the atheistic reasoning current at the present day proceeds on this wholly gratuitous assumption, which the analogies of human experience contradict. But to this fallacy I shall soon advert again. A third particular in which atheism demonstrates its folly is in the assumption that the laws of nature — or the unifor- mity of nature's laws — excludes God. Must there be then a break — discord where there is order — to prove that God reigns ? Is there no God, because there is a reign of law ? Lnagine that in the room of the universal sway of law, there were a jumble of events, no fixed relation of antecedent and consequent ; in a word, chaos. Would there be more or less evidence of a God than there is now ? It is because nature is an orderly system, that the universe is intelligible, and science possible. This very aspect of nature shows that the head of the universe is an intelligent being. Miracles would not be credible, if they were, as some suppose them to be, anti-natural. Though not the mere effect of nature, they harmonize with it, as parts of a more comprehensive system. ^ What a strange idea that for the heavens to declare the glory of God, it is necessary that the planets should leap out of their orbits, instead of keeping their appointed path with unfal- tering regularity ! We count it the perfection of intelligent control, when the railway train reaches its destination, day after day, at the same appointed moment. " O, no ! " cries the Atheist : " let the train, now and then, run oif the track into yonder meadow, and I will believe that it does not go of itself, and that an engineer guides it." A government of law is opposed to that of wild chance or mutable caprice. * Miracles surpass the capacities of nature. But, as Augustine long ago affirmed, the ordinary operations of nature are just as truly from God, as are miraculous phenomena; and those operations would be just as marvellous, were we not familiar with them, as any miracle can be. What marvel greater than every new-bom child ? But the point made above is that miracles have their law — their rationale — as parts of the divine plan. 474 THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. What should we expect of perfect wisdom, and of perfect goodness too, but a system of nature, a fixed order, on which men can build their plans ? Of all the grounds for atheism, the rationality of the universe is the most singular. Another pretext for atheism is the alleged contrariety of the teaching of the Bible to the discoveries of natural and physical science. An odd conclusion surely, even if such a contradiction were found. For the Bible does not first make known the existence of God. If the Bible were shown to be full of errors, it would not disprove the being of God. His being is assumed in the Bible. It is declared to be manifest in the universe around us, and within us, so that heathenism is without excuse. But there is no discrepancy between the ascertained truth of science, and the essential teaching of the Bible respecting God and his relations to the world. The Bible is our guide in morals and religion. It does not anticipate the discoveries of science, or of art. Paul was a tent-maker. The inspiration that so illuminated his spiritual perception as to render him an authoritative teacher of the Gospel, did not, as far as we know, enable him to make tents any better than other workmen of the same craft. There has been, doubtless, since his time, a progress in this art as in almost every other. These two things are true of the Bible : first, it js written from the religious point of view. That is, God is brought directly before us, in describing the works of Providence, as well as the phenomena of nature — secondary and intermediate causes being, to a large extent, dropped out of sight. The veil that hides him, so to speak, from the dull eyes of men, is torn away, and his agency is brought into the foreground. Secondly, the Bible vsrriters take the science of their time, or the ordinary conceptions of men respecting the material world, and proceed upon that basis, eliminating, however, everything at variance with true religion. They stand substantially on the same plane of phys- ical knowledge as their contemporaries ; and from that plane they exhibit the attributes of God as the creator and ruler THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. 475 of nature. The astronomy of the Bible is that of the an- cients. Its authors had no idea of the Copernican system. They simply discard all heathen mythological conceptions, leaving no room for Baal-worship. Their concern was to reveal God as the almighty maker and sustainer of the visi- ble universe ; they did not, and they could not, explain the sidereal system. * As for geology, there was none. The Pentateuch records the giving of the law upon Sinai, but does not tell us that the rock is of granite. The journey of the Israelites in the wilderness was not a geological excur- sion. We know not when, or by whom, the story of the creation was first recorded in the form in which we have it. But that sublime passage of Holy Writ has its parallels in the ancient traditions of other Semitic peoples. In Genesis, we find it cleansed of polytheistic error, and made the vehi- cle of conveying the loftiest moral and religious truth. Com- pare it with the cosmogony of Assyria or Babylon, and you will see wherein the proof of its inspiration lies. There may be striking correspondences with modern knowledge, as in the creation of light before the heavenly bodies, f But I should not expect to find in this old panorama of the crea- tion, as it passed before the purified imagination of the primitive Hebrews, any rigid conformity in detail with that vast book which modern science has unrolled. It passed for literal history in by-gone ages ; but it must be read now as a poem — a history in the forms of the imagination, as it really was in its primitive inception ; yet a poem stamped with the evidences of divine inspiration, containing the es- sential principles of the Old Testament religion, and em- * It was a wise as well as witty remark of a celebrated ecclesiastic, sup- posed to be the (Cardinal Baronius, to whom Galileo refers, that the Bible was given to teach us how to go to heaven, not how the heavens go. f Yet it seems to have been a prevalent conception that light was inde- pendent of the heavenly luminaries. It has a dwelling-place (Job xxxviii. 19). Even in the Greek conception, " the rosy-fingered dawn" preceded the chariot of Apollo. 476 TIIE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. bodying more moral and religious truth than all other books not written in dependence on the Bible. The first utterance — " In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth" — is a truth to which heathen philosophy, on its highest stage, never absolutely attained. * The Bible fares hardly in these days, between an infidel theology, on the one hand, which is blind to the supernatural wisdom that belongs to it, and a rabbinical theology on the other, that makes no room in its formulas for the human element which pervades the book from beginning to end. The Bible is crucified, as it were, between these two theologies. But the Bible, con- * In the first three chapters of Genesis, we find asserted the truths that the universe owes its being to the creative agency of one personal God — as against dualism, pantheism, and polytheism ; that man is like God in his spiritual faculties ; that sin is not a physical or metaphysical necessity, but has its origin and seat in the will of the creature ; that guilt brings shame and separation from communion with God ; that immorality is the natural fruit of impiety. These are truths of vast moment ; peculiar, in their pure form, to the religion of the Bible. Ordinarily we find it to be the method of Providence that sacred history, like other history, should be recorded by *' eye-witnesses or well-informed contemporaries. " Witness the almost complete silence of the Evangelists upon the first thirty years of the Saviour's life. " Wherefore," said Peter (Acts i. 21, 22), "of these men which have companied with us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of John, unto that same day that he was taken up from us, must one be ordained to be a witness with us of his resurrection." The early part of Genesis, the Prolegomena to the Mosaic legislation and to the re- cord of the founding of the Hebrew Commonwealth, precedes contempo- rary authorship, except so far as earlier documents may be interwoven. It is to be expected that difficulties, and questions for criticism, would arise in extraordinary measure respecting this section of the Bible. Es- pecially is this true of the first ten chapters, which carry us far back into the primeval era, anterior to the beginnings of the Jewish people. But whatever may be here set down to "the human element," the homo- geneity of these narratives, as to their moral and religious spirit and con- tent, with the rest of the Scriptures, and thus their elevation above all heathen literature, must not be overlooked. The divine element is not less conspicuous and impressive on the mind of a thoughtful student of the history of religion, than in those portions of the Bible which emanate directly from persons who participated in the events which they record. THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. 477 taming as it does the word of God, has a perennial life in it. It has shown its power to outlive the changing systems of its human interpreters. There is no inconsistency, then, between the Bible, taken as the teacher of moral and relig- ious truth, and the results of scientific study. There is no room for contradiction, since they move on different planes. Hence atheism founded on this pretext is a folly. Another ground of atheism is the supposed imperfection in the Creator's work, or government. This,uf shown to exist, would not disprove the being of God, though it might affect our estimate of his attributes. If a house is leaky, we do not infer that it was never built, but only that the work- men lacked skill, or were guilty of negligence. It was thought, a century ago, to be a ridiculous boast when Thomas Paine said of the Bible that he could write a bet- ter book himself. But we have had to listen, in our time, to criticisms equally daring upon the system of nature, which has been pronounced in various particulars defective. Complaint is, also, made that, in the course of things, right- eousness and prosperity are not always united ; and, hence, that a perfect moral Ruler, one possessed of infinite good- ness and infinite power, cannot be supposed. This last is an old objection. "We might stop to ask whence the sceptic derives the faculties by which he undertakes to criticise the natural and moral system, and where he obtained the stand- ard on which his judgments are based ? If the universe is so at fault, what assurance has he that his own judging faculty, the author of this unfavorable verdict, is any better constructed 'i But, passing by this consideration, the whole objection, as Bishop Butler has shown with irresistible force, is an argument from ignorance. It is a rash judgment upon a system not yet completed. I will suppose a man to enter the Cologne Cathedral, one of the grandest monuments of the genius and piety of the middle ages. He paces up and down its long aisles ; he follows with his eye the columns, ascending upward, and spreading their branches like a 478 THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. mighty forest, to uphold the far-off canopy of stone ; he pauses at " The storied windows, richly dight, Casting a dim, religious light ; " but, just as the grandeur and symmetry of the vast edifice touch his soul with a sensation of awe, his eye falls on por- tions of the wall left in the rough, on towers abruptly broken off, and cries out, " the artist was, after all, a bungler ! " What would you say to such a man ? You would say, " O profane babbler, the building is not yet done ! " Is there not enough to prove the skill of the architect ? You can see to what result the construction tends. Wait till the plan is complete, before you utter your disparagement. So it is with the moral system, and the moral administration of the world, l^ow we know in part. We see that the direction is right ; we can securely wait for the consmnmation. Turn now, for a moment, to the positive evidence of God which atheism fails to acknowledge in its real import. There is, first, the revelation of God in the soul. There is within us a sense of dependence, and a consciousness of a law imposed upon us by the Power on whom we depend — a law moral in its nature, and thus revealing that power as having a preference for right — in other words, as personal and holy. An almost audible voice of God in the soul dis- closes to us his being, and intimate relation to ourselves.* Connected with this inward experience of dependence and of duty, there is in the depth of the spirit a yearning for * Suppose the unverified notion of the gradual genesis of the moral faculty — that it is the result of the accretion of hereditary impressions — to be held ; still the moral faculty now exists. Moreover, it stands as well, as to its origin, as the intellectual nature; and legitimate deductions from the phenomena of our moral consciousness are equally valid with the science which depends for all of its conclusions on the validity of our intellectual faculty. It is difficult for the most erratic speculation to strike at religion without, at the same time, not only striking at morality, but annihilatmg itself ; for the science that casts discredit on the organ of knowledge commits suicide in the very act. THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. 479 communion with liim in wliom we live, and move, and have our being. Tliese inward testimonies of God can never be absohitelj silenced. A recent writer has defined God as the power, not ourselves, that makes for righteousness. There is a power, then, that gives law to the will without coercing it, cheers with the hope of reward, and menaces with the dread of punishment, and actually secures the reward to the righteous ; and yet that power has no love of righteousness, and no hatred to iniquity ! It is unnatural, it is a perver- sion of reason to believe this. Behind the mandate of con- science is the preference and will of God. Coleridge is right in saying that it is our duty to believe in God ; for this belief is indispensable to the life of conscience. The only correlate for the unquenchable yearning of the human spirit for a higher communion, is the living God, who, though not seen by us, himself " seeth in secret." Faith in God springs up in the soul spontaneously, where the soul is not darkened and perverted. It is strictly natural. Hence religion, in some form, is universal, or as nearly so as are the exercise of a moral sense, and the rest of the higher powers of man. Religion, the belief in God, is like the domestic affections. They may be weakened, they may be corrupted, they may be deadened, and, to all appearance well-nigh extirpated. Nevertheless, they remain, an inde- structible part of human nature. A man may argue that these affections — ^filial, parental, conjugal love — are irrational, the product of fancy, or merely an heir-loom from the past. Pseudo-philosophers have done this. He may profess to emancipate himself from these superstitious feelings. But if he succeed, he will only starve his heart ; and, in the end, mature will prove too strong for him.* Religion is not a \ — _ ____ * If the attempt were made to bring up a child without the exercise on his part of domestic affection, all the propensities and feelings that relate to the family being, as far as practicable, stifled, the experiment would be analogous to that which John Stuart Mill suffered, as regards religion, at the hands of his father. 480 THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. doctrine merely ; it is a life, an integral part of the life of the soul ; and without religion, man is a poor deformed creature, more dead than alive. Every organ, deprived of its correlated object, feels after it. There is an effort, a nisus — from which there is no rest. So it is in a man who undertakes to live without God — at least until higher sensi- bility is paralyzed. In these ways does God give a witness of himself within us, to disregard which is not less irrational than wicked. Secondly, atheism disregards the revelation of God in the structure of the world, the marks of design that everywhere present themselves to the unbiassed observer. " lie that planted the ear, shall he not hear? He that formed the eye, shall he not see ? " The mind refuses to believe that the author — the cause — of the eye and ear, is itself void of perception. The adaptations of nature exhibit on every hand a contriving mind. The thought of God springs up within us involuntarily, whenever we consider the human frame, or look at any other of the countless examples of de- sign of which the world is full. There is proof of arrange- ment everywhere. The heart rises in thanks and worship to " Him who alone doeth great wonders ; " " to him that by wisdom made the heavens ; " " that stretched out the earth above the waters ; " " to him that made great lights, the sun to rule by day, the moon and stars to rule by night." This evidence of God has impressed the greatest minds of the race — men like Socrates and Cicero — and the humblest minds alike. One would think that a man, knowing by con- sciousness and observation what the characteristic marks and fruits of intelligence are, must have put out his eyes if he fails to discern a plan in the marvellous order of nature. How can an invisible, spiritual being reveal himself to other minds, if works appropriate to intelligence do not inspire a conviction of his presence and agency 'i * * The argument from final causes in nature is not weakened by our in- ability to discern, in many cases, what they are, or by mistakes made in THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. 481 'Not is the force of this evidence weakened by the doc- trine of evolution, unless it is pushed into materialism, in which case it can be overthrown by irrefutable arguments. Suppose it were true that all animals — nay, all living things — could be traced. back to a single germ, out of which they are developed in pursuance of certain laws or tenden- cies. Then they were all contained in that germ. Nothing can be ^-volved that was not before m-volved. What a mar- vel that gelatin — or protoplasm — or whatever it be called — in which are shut up all the living things that exist ? Who laid it in the properties — the tendency to variation, the ten- dency to permanence, and the rest — by the operation of which this endless variety, and beauty and order emerge ? You see that God is required as much as ever. This new doctrine, whether it be an established truth, or an unverified specula- tion, strikes at religion only when it assumes to deny the ex- istence of mind in the proper sense, and holds that thought presumptuous endeavors to point them out. The objection of Hume to affirming an analogy between works of nature and works of art, is futile, since in respect to design — the feature in both on which the argument turns— the analogy holds. The eye is an instrument employed by a ra- tional being for a purpose ; and when we see how it is fitted to this use, we cannot resist the persuasion that it was intended for it. The idea of the organ we discern, as Whewell well puts it : we have in our minds the idea of a final cause, and when we behold the eye, we find our idea ex- emplified. This idea, then, governed the construction of the eye, be its mechanical causes, the operative agencies that produced it, what they may. Every part of an organized being, also, displays design ; for there is no better definition of a living thing than that of Kant, that in it every part is both means and end. Some talk of the ''unknowable," but they contradict themselves by admitting in the same breath that the unknowa- ble is manifested as the first cause. They hold that it is only as a cause that we recognize its existence. But this cause is further manifested as intelligent and holy. Nothing can be more sophistical, than the remark of Herbert Spencer, that could the watch, in Paley's illustration, think, it would judge its Creator to be like itself, a watch. Could the watch think and choose, it would be rational, and would then reason like other rational beings, and conclude that the artificer of such a product as itself must have designed it beforehand — that is to say, must be a mind. 21 482 THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. is only a function of the brain, perisliing with it. That is to say, there is no free, contriving intelligence in man. What is called that, is only a product of the movement of a blind, unintelligent force. Then, of course, we cannot con- clude that there is a free intelligence anywhere. But ma- terialism is not less fatal to morals than religion, for it anni- hilates responsibility. In truth, it is fatal to the higher life of man. It gives the lie to consciousness which testifies to our freedom, and to our guilt for wrong choices. It de- stroys the difference between truth and error in mental per- ception ; for both are equally the result of the molecular ac- tion of the brain, and equally normal. It provides no norm for distinguishing between the true and the false. It de- stroys science, for who can say that the molecular movement by which science is thought out, may not at any time change its form, and give rise to conclusions utterly diverse ? There is no end to the absurdities of materialism ; a doctrine which can be maintained only by a disregard of phenomena, the reality and proper significance of which no reasonable person can call in question. Let scientific exploration be carried to the farthest bound — it will never be able to dispense with God. It is plain that the world is a cosmos — a beautiful order. It came to be such by the operation of forces mov- ing steadily towards this end ; for anything like accident, or properly fortuitous events, science can never admit. The world is the necessary outcome of the agencies, be they few or many, near or remote, that gave rise to it. The time oc- cupied in the process is a point irrelevant ; were it a billion, or ten billions of years, a moment's thought transports us to the beginning, and the whole problem stares us in the face. There is a plan ; rational ends have been reached by adapta- tions and arrangements ; and thus God is revealed.* * The statements made above are corroborated, it would seem, by re- marks of Professor Huxley, who says : " The teleological and the mechani- cal views of nature are, not necessarily, mutually exclusive. On the con- trary, the more purely a mechanist the speculator is, the more firmly does THE UNKEASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. 483 Thirdly, the folly of atheism appears in its failure to discern the revelation of God in the history of mankind. It ignores, also, the God of Providence. The history of mankind is not a chaotic jumble of occurrences, but an or- derly sequence where one set of events prepares for another, he assume primordial molecular arrangement, of which all the pheno- mena of the universe are consequences ; the more completely is he there- by at the mercy of the teleologist, who can always defy him to disprove that this primordial molecular arrangement was not intended to evolve the phenomena of the universe." Quoted in Jackson's Philosophy of Natural Theology, p. 136. On the relation of evolution to theism and teleology, see the excellent remarks of Dr. A. Gray, in his Darwiniana (New York, 1876). The only escape from teleology is in the doctrine of an eternal sequence of causes and effects, a notion which, as Dr. Gray says, ' ' no sane man " will permanently hold. Such a notion is equivalent to a denial of all real causation, since the eternal regress can never bring ns to the thing sought— a real cause which is not itself an effect. The principle of causation, as a subjective conviction, or demand of the intel- ligence, involves the belief in the reality of such a first cause. As to the question of the origin of man, it is evident, in the first place, that we are, on one side of our being, composed of matter. This is an undeniable fact. What is the origin of this material part ? It may be supposed that it was created outright, in the organized human form, by a fiat of the Almighty, when the first man was called into being. This is one supposition. Another is that man was made out of the " dust of the earth" — out of pre-existing inorganic matter. This is the mode of con- ception in the biblical writers. See Gen. iii. 19, Ps. xc. 3, civ. 29, cxlvi. 4, Job X. 9, Eccl. iii. 20. Or, thirdly, it may be supposed that man was made out of previously existing organized matter — developed from a lower class of animal beings, either by easy gradations (according to the Dar- winian creed), or per saltum. If by slow gradations, the proposition amounts to this, that beings intermediate between man and existing or extinct lower animals, once lived on the earth. This remains to be proved, the intermediates not having been found. Neither of these hy- potheses necessarily denies the reality of the higher endowments of man. They impinge upon the Christian system only when they are connected with a denial of the distinctive qualities of man as a spiritual being — his free and responsible nature. Precisely how and when he received from the Creator this higher nature — the quomodo — is a question, however in- teresting, of secondary importance. It is only materialism — or, what is theologically equivalent, a monism which identifies soul and body — that cannot cohere with the truths of religion. 484: THE UNEEASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. and where rational ends are wrought out by means adapted to them. There is a divine plan stamped upon history : *' — thro' the ages one increasing purpose runs." And, irrespective of this plan, records of the past, it has been well said, have little more interest for us than the bat- tles of crows and daws. There is a design connected with history: it is not an aimless course of events — a stream having no issue — a meaningless succession, or cycle of phe- nomena. Now the atheist shuts his eyes to the evident traces of a providential guidance and control of the world's affairs. It is chance, he says ; or if there is law, it is law without a law-giver. That moral government which ap- pears in the prosperity accorded to righteousness, and in the penalties that overtake iniquity — that sublime manifesta- tion of justice through all the annals of mankind — declares the presence of a just God. The minds of men, when un- perverted by false speculation, instinctively feel that God reigns, whenever they behold these providential allotments. It is necessary to stifle the voice of nature, and to resort to some far-fetched, unsatisfactory solution of the matter, in order to avoid this impression. In this way, the conscience of mankind convicts atheism of folly. Fourthly, atheism discerns not the revelation of God in Christ. God is manifest in the flesh. I waive all discus- sion of the Bible, its authority, and inspiration. The charac- ter of Jesus disclosed in the Gospel record could never have been imagined ; it vouches for its own reality, and thus for the history in and through which it is made known to us. In Christ there is a manifestation of God. The power that actuates him is not of the earth and not of man. The righteousness and love of the Father are reflected as in an image. The Father is known through the Son. In his face we behold the Invisible.* His soul is obviously in un- * This impression was actually made on those most intimately ated with him. See John i. 14, xiv. 9, Matt, xtl 16. THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. 485 interrupted communion with the Father. When he quits the world, he says : " Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit." Was there no ear to hear that voice ? Was it lost in boundless space, obtaining no response? Then, verily, " The pillared firmament is rottenness, And earth's base built on stubble." Then let us draw a pall over life, with its flickering joys, soon to be quenched in eternal night. All that is most ele- vated, all that is most consoling, all that raises our destiny above that of the brutes that perish, is built on illusion ! There is no grand future, no serene hereafter, where the longing soul shall have its profoundest -aspirations met in the fellowship of the spiritual world, and in the everlast- ing dominion of truth and righteousness. " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." The senses, at least, do not mock us. The pleasure that they give is real, as far as it If atheism is a folly, is not sin at the root of it ? Kot, it may be, a particular sinful practice, or conscious transgression, but a habit of feeling, which is wrong, and which spreads a film over the organ of spiritual perception. Can a man who reflects, as he ought, upon his own being, and deals honestly with himself as accountable and as convicted of imworthi- ness in his own conscience, rest in atheism ? Why is it that to one mind the heavens declare the glory of God, while to another mind their starry surface is a blank page ? It is because, in the one case, there is first a recognition of God within the soul; there is a glad acknowledgment of the Father of our spirits, to whom consciousness and conscience alike testify. In the other case, there is darkness within. And how important it is that all progress in knowledge should bring us closer to God ! Alas, that the study of the works of God should ever be prosecuted in such a spirit that he is more and more removed out of sight ! Alas, that 4t8Q THE UNREASONABLENESS OF ATHEISM. the study of history should ever fail to confirm the scholar's faith in the God, of whose Providence history is the record ! Vain, nay, worse than in vain, are all our studies, if they fail to deepen our faith in God. The student's daily prayer should be — '* what in me is dark Illumine, what is low, raise and support." Then will knowledge prove, indeed, a blessing. *' Let knowledge grow from more to more, But more of reverence in us dwell ; That mind and soul, according well, May make one music as before, But vaster." THE APOSTLE PAUL. 487 THE APOSTLE PAUL * There are two very different classes of persons, who, without any abuse of terms, may be called enemies of the Christian faith. In the one there is a latent hostility to principles that still find a secret approval in their own con- sciences. A more or less conscious opposition of their char- acters to truth that is known or surmised to exist in the Christian system is at the bottom of their hatred of it. In the other class, however, their enmity may be traced to a wrong bias of will, or perverse tempers of feeling, as the ul- timate source, the immediate, conscious ground of it is quite diverse. There is no immoral practice, no unrighteous course of conduct, that shrinks from the rebuke uttered in the Gospel. There is no guilty dread of the light ; there is no honest conviction smothered : but they hate Christianity because they misconceive its doctrine, or deem it to be at war with something which they hold as sacred truth. From their education, falling in, perhaps, with their native intel- lectual tendencies, or from some other influence, they have come to cherish, with theiu whole soul, beliefs that appear to clash with the Christian system. From their point of view, they cannot do otherwise than misjudge, and, it may be, detest it. Now, as one of this class can be moved to embrace the religion which he has hated, only by being enlightened ; so, in case he does embrace it, let the change be never so radical, there will be a certain continuity between his life before and his life after his conversion. His previous position, with whatever moral fault he may * A Lecture in Boston, in 1871, forming part of a course of Lectures by different persons, on Christianity and Skepticism. 488 THE APOSTLE PAUL. charge himself, he can justly attribute to a misapprehension. His new views are a rectification of the old. Underneath the contrariety, there are some hidden threads of unity. The old conception has proved at least a stepping-stone to the new. Opposite as his new life seems to his former career, there is a logical and moral bond between the two. Paradoxical as it may appear, a thread of consistency passes over from the earlier to the later period of his history. In this class of antagonists of the Christian faith belonged Saul of Tarsus. He was, in a sense, an intensely religious man before he believed in Jesus of Nazareth. Religion, the relations of man to God, was tlie ruling, absorbing thought of his mind. It was not science or learning, or any purely mundane interest or occupation, that engaged his attention. It was religion — the relation of the soul to God and the su- pernatural order. And he was not less sincere in the pro- fession than he was earnest in the practice of his creed. If there were many Pharisees who delighted in the hollow reputation of sanctity — knaves and impostors, all whose thoughts centred in themselves — Paul was at the farthest remove from all such. He was elevated above the influence of a vulgar ambition, and he was an utter stranger to insin- cerity. There is no hint that he was impeded by any mis- givings when he was performing the part of an inquisitor against the disciples of Jesus. The phrase " It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks," refers to no struggle in his own mind : it simply asserts the futility of the attempt to withstand the progress of the new faith. He had entered on an abortive undertaking ; he had plunged into a hopeless enterprise : but he went into it with no divided mind. He verily thought that he ought to extirpate the new sect. He had no stifled misgivings, no scruples of conscience, on the subject. What he did he did ignorantly, in unbelief." He considered it afterwards a sin, but a sin of ignorance, the responsibility for which did not inhere in the act itself immediately,' or in the opinion that dictated it. THE APOSTLE PAUL. 489 Moreover, his ideal of character remained, in its general features, the same. Righteousness formed that ideal before he was converted, as well as after. In the earlier period, his idea of righteousness included both personal conformity to the standards of obligation, and that unqualified citizen- ship in the theocracy which involved a title to all its bless- ings, and, among them, eternal life. Righteousness, in this inward quality and outward relation, as a determination of the will and a consequent privilege, was to him the sum of all good. But now we come to the contrast. He first thought that the way to attain righteousness, and the only way, was to obey the Mosaic statutes — the moral and cere- monial ordinances at the foundation of the Hebrew theo- cratic commonwealth. The Mosaic institute, in w^hich ethi- cal and ritual precepts were interwoven, he conceived of as something permanent and eternal. That visible form of society, which had God for its direct author, was to endure as long as the sun and moon. There was no hope for man- kind except in the extension of this kingdom. Hence Paul joined the sect whose zeal to bring in the heathen moved them " to compass sea and land to make one proselyte ; " the sect at the head of that aggressive Judaism, the progress of which led a Roman philosopher to declare that the con- quered had given laws to the conquerors. Hence, too, the cause of the disciples of Jesus appeared to Paul in the light of an impious and treasonable revolt against the divine order. To uphold the theocratic state in full unity and vigor, and to extend the sway of it abroad, was the first duty. If, now, we look at Paul the apostle, we find him holding a difPerent view of the place and office of the Mosaic system in the divine plan. That system no longer fills his eye to the exclusion of everything else. It is only one link in the chain ; one stadium in the series of revelations. He has risen to a more comprehensive view of the divine dispensa- tions, where the function of the Old Testament law-system 31* 490 THE APOSTLE PAUL. is perceived to be subordinate and provisional ; as when, from a lofty tower, one sees mountains and plains stretch- ing far away beyond the previous boundaries of his vision. Abraham was before Moses; promise preceded law. The statutory system was an expedient, wholesome and necessary, not without sacred and everlasting elements incorporated with it, yet, as a system, destined to give place to a spiritual kingdom founded on a different principle. This kingdom is spiritual, the head of it being an invisible person to whom we are connected by faith which takes hold of the unseen. It is thus a free and universal religion, in contrast with the external, local, restricted theocracy. The vast revolution of sentiment which Paul's mind underwent might be termed a deeper insight into the philosophy of history. The philoso- phy of history, the science that aspires to interpret the plan of God in the course of human affairs, has its beginning in the Hebrew prophets. The problem that inspired Augus- tine to compose The City of God, and Edwards The History of RedeTYijption / the problem on which modern thinkers of 80 diverse character — Yico and Hegel, Bossuet and Herder — ^have labored — ^first presented itself to the seers of Judaea and Israel. In that old state-system, where the little princi- pality of the Jews was surrounded by the mighty, conquer- ing empires of Assyria, Babylon, and Egypt, what chance had that feeble kingdom against the overwhelming odds % What chance was there, when to the vast preponderance of force on the side of their neighbors there was added the in- fectious example of their idolatries ? Then it was that the prophets, called by the Spirit, sometimes from the sheep- pasture, their souls filled and exalted with the grand idea of an indestructible kingdom of God on earth, pointed to splen- did and opulent cities, the London and New York and Paris of that day, and predicted their downfall. They outstripped the sagacity of the profoundest of statesmen. Edmund Burke is admired with reason for anticipating events of the French Revolution ; but Burke, in the very work that con- THE APOSTLE PAUL. 491 tained these vaticinations, said also that the military strength of France had culminated, and was no more to be feared. And this prediction was uttered just before the wars of Na- poleon. What is there more sublime in literature, when all the circumstances are weighed, than the words of Scripture, — " There shall be a handful of com in the earth upon the top of the mountains ; the fruit thereof shall shake like Lebanon ? " K one inquires for their fulfilment, let him be- hold the Christendom of to-day. The prophets themselves did not divine the full and exact sense of their own predic- tions. They had glimpses of the felicity of the kingdom in its future developed and mature form. A more spiritual worship was to characterize it ; a more unfettered and uni- versal character was to belong to it. Paul, after his conver- sion, entered into the import of these prophetical pictures, and found them verified and realized in the society that looked to Jesus as its head. The beginnings of this society antedated the law. The germ of it was in the theocracy it- self. But the kingdom of believing souls, as it existed be- fore, might exist now, independently of the Mosaic laws and institutions. Regarded as a religious institute, they had fulfilled their end. But Paul would never have reached this view, his conver- sion would have remained incomplete, had he not been driven outside of the law-system by the force of some in- ward experience. This was the painful conviction that he had been mistaken in supposing himself righteous. Instead of having attained that which he sought, he had fallen far short of it. He stood at a hopeless remove from the stand- ard of character which a deeper perception of human obli- gations revealed to him. With the loss of the sense of in- ward righteousness, his standing as a member of the divine kingdom was gone too. Instead of being a just or justified member of the theocratical community, he was a condemned person. Precisely how Paul came to discern, in this new light, the deep, spiritual demands of law, we have not the 492 THE APOSTLE PAUL. means of answering. It may be, that, in the crisis of his conversion, teachings of Jesus were brought to his knowl- edge by some of the disciples who instructed him, and that these gave new life to his conscience. Mr. Matthew Arnold, in recent clever essays upon St. Paul, is correct in asserting that it was not fear that lay at the bottom of his distress. This, at least, was not the chief ingredient of that shai-p anguish of spirit which he suffered : it was, rather, the sense of unrighteousness. It was tlie humiliation, the piercing self-reproach, the burden of a conscious bondage to evil, that afflicted his soul. His self-approbation was undermined. Instead of approving, he must abhor himself. But Mr. Matthew Arnold is wrong in ignoring the element of guilt as related to God, or the objective condemnation, that formed one part of Paul's misery. Paul, with all the depth of his emotional nature, had none of the unhealthy, one-sided subjectiveness that pertains to modern pantheistic tendencies of thought. He was not shut up within the circle of his own sensibilities. He wished not only to be right before himself, but also to stand right before God. Besides the conscious servitude of his will to passion — the " video pro- boque meliora, deteriora sequor," of the heathen poet — there was the objective verdict of the righteous, infallible judge. Where did he get relief ? ]N^ot from the law, in whose com- manding and forbidding there was no force that could over- come the opposing propensities of his nature. The law could condemn and threaten ; but it could not create a principle of obedience. There was nothing in bare law to subvert the do- minion of sensuality and selfishness. The result was a feel- ing of wretchedness, of self -despair. Paul turned to Jesus as a helper. Jesus had overcome in the conflict with evil. He had died, but died victorious. The patient, self-denying sufferer was a victor in the struggle. There was a loveli- ness in Christ that touched the sympathies of Paul, and kindled the desire to walk as he walked ; and this desire was a new power in the soul, quite distinct from the influence of THE APOSTLE PAUL. 493 law. But moral admiration, deepening into sympathy, is not the whole of what the apostle meant by faith. There was a love from Jesus to him ; there was a compassion of God, un- derlying the whole mission of Jesus. That love and com- passion Paul believed in. The helper whom he received was no distant hero, who exerted power only through an in- spiring example ; but he was invisibly present, to support, by the mysterious influence of spirit upon spirit, the new life which he had awakened. Hold what particular view one may of the Pauline doctrine as to the significance of the death of Jesus, it is evident that Paul saw in it the means and the assurance of forgiveness. There is a foundation in his teaching for the ordinary Protestant idea of forensic jus- tification. Righteousness had always to him a double aspect : it was both an internal quality and an outward relation. But what the law could not do was accomplished through the per- sonal influence of Christ upon the soul united to him in sym- pathy and dependence. Nothing in Kenan's book upon St. Paul is more groundless than the implication that his per- sonal character was little altered by his becoming a Christian. A new spirit of love took possession of his nature. In the room of the fierce temper of a persecuting zealot, we find a genuine humility, a constant inculcation of kindness and charity. When it is remembered that he was naturally high-spirited, and perhaps irritable, this change is the more touching. "Love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, good- ness, faith, meekness, temperance " — these are the traits on which he dwells. Against these, he says, there is no law. But they are not the fruit of law : they are the fruit of the Spirit. They have their springs in the relation of the soul to Christ. In this relation there was a great liberty. In regard to these many virtues and their opposites, the apostle writes, "Ye are not under the law." It is the Christian paradox of a correspondence to the law, but from motives and impulses to the law unknown. It was not the constraint of a statute ; but " the love of Chi'ist constraineth us." 494 THE APOSTLE PAUL. Observe, now, the order in which this conversion, in its different parts or constituent elements, took place. It did not begin with new ideas of the spiritual character of the laW, and with a sense of sin ; but the historical evidence necessitates the conclusion, that a recognition of the truth of the claims of Jesus was the first step. The apostle him- self, in his writings, attributes the change to a sudden reve- lation. Up to a certain moment, he had thought that he ought to put down the Christians by force. There was no intermediate process of reflection and inquiry between this state of feeling and his acknowledgment of Jesus as the ascended Lord and Messiah. He expressly affirms that this primary conviction was not imparted to him by the other apostles through the exhibition of proofs. How, then, did he obtain it ? It was not by reflecting on the death of Jesus ; for, apart from the consideration that his first belief resulted from no process of examination, the death of Jesus was, to his mind, one of the strongest arguments against the verity of his pretensions. To him, as to other Jews, the cross was a stumbling-block — an insuperable obstacle in the way of faith. It is impossible, then, that he could have believed in Jesus, except through some disclosure of him, real or supposed, as triumphant over death, in a higher and glorified form of existence. Therefore the testimony of Paul on the mode of his conversion, while it accords with the probabilities of the case, tends to corroborate the narra- tive of Luke respecting the journey to Damascus. It is re- markable, however, and characteristic of Paul, that, besides the vision or revelation that formed the primary source of his belief, he discerns the value of external testimony. The resurrection of Jesus is verified, he affirms, by eye-witnesses, whom he enumerates, presenting the evidence in a circum- stantial manner. There was a series of interviews of the risen Jesus : first with Peter ; then with the Twelve ; then with ^ve hundred brethren, of whom the greater part, he says, were then living ; after that with James ; then again THE APOSTLE TAUL. 495 with all the apostles. It was a true and real manifestation of Jesus, in bodily form, to the senses of the disciples. The testimony is such, considering the panic and despair of the witnesses after the crucifixion, and the outward circumstan- ces, as to exclude the idea of an hallucination ; but it was a manifestation to the disciples and believers alone. The fact of the resurrection of Jesus was an indispensable condition of the apostle's faith in him. Here we fall out once more with Mr. Matthew Arnold, who is duly impressed with the truth that Jesus, in the might of his holy love to God and men, died to sin and the world ; that this inward death was perfected and shown in his death on the cross, and was the means of a true, spirit- ual, eternal life, of which all who are united to him in sym- pathy are enabled to partake. This, without doubt, is a vital fart of Paul's religion ; but it is not the whole. Bis faith rested on objective realities. Beyond his own subjec- tive impressions and feelings, there must be the word of God. The resurrection of Jesus proved the acceptance of him as a Redeemer : it was the counterpart, the sign and necessary consequence, of his complete victory over sin. Without that verifying act of God, faith had no objective support, and was vain. The soundness of the apostle's con- ception of religion, as a relation to God, instead of a mere round of inward experiences, where the subjective feeling goes for every thing, appears very strikingly at this point. The pantheistic drift of much of our modern speculation gets no countenance from him; and yet where shall we find an equal richness and depth of spiritual experience, or so pj-ofound a representation of what may be called the subjec- tive side of the Gospel ? To die with Christ in his death, to live to Christ, to live because Christ lives in him — these are his familiar thoughts. But as the death of Jesus on the cross fulfilled and expressed his inward dying to the world, so did his resurrection express and demonstrate his life in God. 496 THE APOSTLE PAUL. By the resurrection of Jesns to a spiritual and glorified form of existence, he becomes the head of a kingdom funda- mentally different from that of the Jewish dispensation. The kingdom has shuffled off the carnal form which it had previously worn. The former requirements and ceremonies are something quite heterogeneous to its present mode of being. When Paul declares that he does not any longer know Jesus, according to the flesh, as a Jew, the member of a particular nation, with local and national associations upon him, he sets forth in the strongest possible manner, in a manner even startling, his consciousness of the altered character of the kingdom. The throne is not at Jerusalem, but in heaven. The offering is not bulls and goats, but our body and spirit, a reasonable — that is, a spiritual, or inward — service. The temple is not on Mount Zion, but is the soul of the believer. The whole conception turns on the fact of the resurrection and ascension of Jesus. One might anticipate what attitude a man of Paul's logi- cal intellect and fervid spirit, who held nothing by halves, would assume towards Judaism and Judaizing tendencies in the church. A great amount of ingenuity has been ex- pended of late in an effort to exhibit Paul as at variance with the other apostles on the subject of the admission of Gentiles to the church, and on the whole matter of their relation to the Old Testament ritual. As a means to this end, a deliberate attempt has been made to impeach the ve- racity of Luke ; or, rather, of the author of the book of Acts, whom the negative criticism denies to have been Luke. This last attempt breaks down, not only from the variety and weight of evidence in behalf of the genuineness and historical credibility of the book in question, but also from the failure to establish any contradiction between the gen- eral representations of Paul himself in his admitted epistles and the testimony of the Acts. These points are clear from Paul's own statement — that Peter, James, and John re- quired of the Gentiles nothing more than he required ; that THE ArOSTLB PAUL. 497 thej recognized him as an apostle ; that they rejoiced in the conversion of the heathen converts when it was reported to them ; that they approved of the contents of his preaching, and bade him God-speed when he went forth on his errand, tliey asking and receiving at his hand charities for the poor Christians at Jerusalem from the churches which he planted. At the same time, it was inevitable, and it is perfectly clear, that the original band of apostles, the first disciples of Christ, did not have at the outset that clear perception, and, with the exception of John, probably never had that sharp and vivid perception, of the antithesis of the new system to the old, which had seized on the convictions of Paul. The reason is, that, under the teaching of Jesus, they came out of the old system by a more imperceptible transition. Their religious life was a growth, in which their traditional ideas were gradually corrected and supplanted. They had never entered with so intense earnestness into legal Judaism as Paul had. They had not, like him, to renounce a definite system to which they had committed themselves with all their hearts, and from which they were parted by a sudden access of light. Analogous phenomena occur at the present day among those who enter upon a Christian life. In some cases there is a conscious, abrupt revolution ; in other cases. Christian character springs almost imperceptibly out of Christian training. A diversity in the mode of looking at the Gospel is the natural consequence. The wonder is that the Galilean apostles could so entirely emancipate them- selves from habitual, inherited impressions, as to welcome the heathen converts who had not been circumcised, and ex- tend a cordial fellowship to Paul. But he was not only ready to tolerate the Gentiles in the acceptance of the bene- fits of the Gospel : he would carry these benefits to them. He would enter into the broad field that opened itself far and wide before him. The effect of such a course must be to excite the malig- nant hostility of his Jewish countrymen. He must appear 498 THE APOSTLE PAUL. to them in the light of an apostate, and become the object of that vindictive hatred which partisans feel towards a renegade who has deserted his associates and passed over into the camp of the enemy. But the development of the Jiidaizing principle within the church was destined to be still more mischievous and annoying. Not all of the Phari- sees who were converted had Paul's clearness of perception, nor had they tested by so thorough a personal trial the legal method of salvation. Hence they held with stubborn tena- city to the idea that the door into the church was through the Judaic rite of circumcision. To concede this, as Paul saw, was to give up the Gospel as a spiritual and universal religion, to curtail the office of Christ as a Saviour, and to sacrifice the liberty of the heathen convert by subjecting them to a burdensome ritual. To maintain his position on this point was the battle of his life. By his instrumen- tality, more than by that of any other, Christianity was saved from sinking down into a Jewish sect. In the encounter with Jews and Judaizers, Paul had an objection to meet, which at first must have perplexed his own mind, and which his opponents would not fail to urge with the utmost emphasis. Were not the Jews the people of God ? Were they not a chosen nation ? As such, were they not to receive the blessings of salvation? When it was found that comparatively few of the Jews believed in Jesus, and when the number of Gentile converts was rapidly increasing, these questions could not fail to arise. " If you are right," said the unbelieving Jew to Paul, " what becomes of election and the promises ? " And the Judaizing be- liever repeated the inquiry. This brings the apostle to the matter of predestination and election. I do not propose to discuss the interpretation of the ninth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans — the field which has been trodden for so many generations by contending armies of theological com- batants — except to say that it was no part of the apostle's idea to offer a metaphysical solution of the old problem of THE APOSTLE PAUL. 499 liberty and necessity, any more than it was his design, in the fifth chapter, to solve the mystery of original sin. All that I propose is to point out the historical occasion of his introducing the subject. The actual rejection of Christ by a great majority of the Jewish people forced him to con- sider their selection by God, and what the nature of it was. In short, it opened up what we have called the philosophy of history, the character of the Jewish dispensation. There had not been a strict adherance to the hereditary principle on the part of God in constituting the chosen people. The principle of legitimacy, so to speak, had been set aside by his decree. He had not, as a matter of fact, been bound, in the past, by the mere consideration of lineage. Isaac was not the only child of Abraham, and Jacob was an example of a deviation from the natural order of succession ; the reason being, in both cases, the divine choice and appoint- ment. Therefore the Jewish theory of hereditary claims and exclusive national rights was a false one, as their own history proved. What should prevent God, then, if he saw fit, from giving the blessing of salvation to the Gentiles? There was no principle of the divine administration that imposed any fetters upon his will in this particular. Hence, if the Jews lost the gift, and the heathen received it, no one had a right to charge the Divine Being with inconsistency, or a disregard of lawful claims. But Paul does not leave the discussion without bringing forward his usual doctrine — that the blessings of grace are transmitted in the line of faith, instead of that of carnal descent. It is not member- ship in a race, but faith, that puts one in possession of them, as the narrative of Abraham himself proved. The Calvinist will always point to the apostle's language about Pharaoh, and to the illustration of the potter and the clay ; the Ar- minian will appeal to his declaration, that the reason why Israel had not attained to righteousness is because " they sought it not by faith," and that the rejection of Israel is tem- porary until the Gentiles have been gathered into the church. 500 THE APOSTLE PAUL. Both unite in denying salvation by works or human merit, and in attributing all the praise to God ; and this was the truth which the apostle had most at heart. I have often thought, that, had I the genius of Walter Savage Landor, I would compose an imaginary conversation between John Calvin and John Wesley, two men who were equals in firm- ness of conviction and energy of will, and with an ardor that impels them to pour out abundant anathemas against the doctrines that offend them. To Wesley, election meant the divine authorship of sin, and insincerity in the invita- tions of the Gospel ; to Calvin, the denial of election meant salvation by merit, and the insecurity of the trembling and tempted believer. Each fights the inferences that he de- duces from the doctrine of the other ; and each denies that the inferences of his opponent are fairly drawn. But how insignificant is the real difference between them when com- pared with what they hold in common ! It is one conse- quence of the historical method of exegesis, which, in con- nection with a more correct philosophy, characterizes the biblical interpretation of the present time, that a new point of view is often gained, from which difficulties are lessened, and the rigid interpretation of the dogmatical school is modified by the infusion of a more genial, penetrative, and catholic spirit. Even Peter did not find the style of Paul very perspicuous. His impetuous mind does not stop to fill out a chain of reasoning, or guard an illustration from a possible misuse. His swift mind leaves gaps for the reader himself to supply. His thoughts, in their hurry, jostle one another ; and parenthesis is thrown within parenthesis to help him in the utterance of them. Before one idea is fully expressed, it is overtaken by another ; as a wave flow- ing into the shore is chased and overrun by the wave be- hind it. Hence, of all writers, he requires breadth and in- sight in the interpreter who would explore his meaning. The Pauline type of doctrine is frequently brought into comparison with the types of doctrine presented in the Epis- raE APOSTLE PAUL. 601 tie of James and the writings of John. It is more obvious to students of the Bible now than formerly, that the inspi- ration of the apostles did not operate to supersede, but to in- tensify, their native faculties of mind. It was dynamic, not mechanical, in its mode of action. The effect of it was or- ganic — to elevate, to guide, to purify the powers of intellect and feeling, but not to supplant them, and not to extinguish their peculiarities, or check their free movement, as by an agency exerted upon them from without. Nor did inspira- tion interfere with the individuality of religious character that belonged to the apostles. What type their piety as- sumed varied with their natural traits. They were all de- pendent on Christ, and moulded by his influence ; but, like various musical instruments touched by the same hand — the lute, the organ, and the harp, which give forth various tones and strains of melody^so is the characteristic nature of each of the apostles manifest. The inspiration of the apostles differs from the inspiration that has produced the master- pieces of literature — first, that the former relates to relig- ious and ethical truth ; and, secondly, that the products of it are verified to us, and, for this reason, endued with author- ity. The divine agency here includes a miraculous element, by which the sacred books are set apart from all human productions ; even the loftiest efforts of genius, though gen- ius may handle the themes of religion. But the human ele- ment, out of which grow the individuality, naturalness, and personal living force of the apostolic writers, is not less evi- dent than the divine element which has imparted to them an inexhaustible, as it is an altogether unique, power. When we compare Paul with James, we perceive that James puts forth no contrary doctrine on the method of salvation. When he declares that faith without works is dead, he shows that he conceives of faith as containing a seed of virtue or holy living, so that good works are not an adjunct of faith, but a necessary fruit. Faith has lost its vitality, it resembles a corpse, when it no longer produces right and benevolent 602 THE APOSTLE PAUL. conduct. This is precisely the conception of Paul. As to his relations to John, it is common to designate the one as the apostle of faith, and the other of love. There are cur- rent sayings like that of Schelling, who marks off three pe- riods of the church : the first being the age of Peter, the era of law and ecclesiastical order ; the second, the age of Paul, the era when faith is held in highest honor, the age of Prot- estantism ; and the third, the age of John, the coming age of love. Penan thinks to disparage Paul by calling him a Protestant, the forerunner and author of Protestantism. But turn to the thirteenth chapter of the First Epistle to the Cor- inthians : " jS'ow abideth faith, hope, love — these three ; but the greatest of these is love." Without love, he declares, all gifts are worthless — the gift of tongues ; the gift of prophecy —the eloquence of the preacher ; the gift of knowledge — all intellectual superiority ; the gift of faith, by which miracles were performed ; the habit of alms-giving without stint ; the martyr-spirit — all are of no account without the love, which includes a gentle, forgiving temper ; is the opposite of envy and jealousy, of mistrust, of rudeness and indecorum, of pride and boasting ; the love which delights at seeing men good, and deplores their sin ; that is patient under the bur- dens of life ; that leaves no room for self-seeking. Love alone is the imperishable virtue : faith will give way to sight, and hope to fruition. " On each side of this chapter," says Dean Stanley, " the tumult of argument and remon- strance still rages ; but within it all is calm : the sentences move in almost rhythmical melody ; the imagery unfolds it- self in almost dramatic propriety ; the language arranges it- self with almost rhetorical accuracy. We can imagine how the apostle's amanuensis must have paused to look up in his master's face, and seen his countenance lighted up as it had been the face of an angel, as this vision of divine perfection passed before him." 'Now turn to John ; and what do we meet with at the beginning of his Gospel ? — " To as many as received him, to them gave he power to be the sons of THE APOSTLE PAUL. 503 God ; even to them that believe on his name." Later we read : " This is the work of God, to believe on him whom he hath sent." The love to him who hath first loved us, on which John dwells — what is it but faith ? We believe in a love to us that has gone before all love on our side. Respon- sive love implies faith. Faith, in the doctrine of Paul and John alike, is the connection of the soul with Christ, from which love and all other parts of goodness result. The unity of apostolic doctrine lies in the common view of Christ as the one source of life. He is the vine, sending life and f ruitfulness through the branches. Had Paul been less pure and disinterested in character, he would infallibly have been made the head of a party ; but when he heard of the attempt at Corinth to set him in this position, and to organize a sect to be called by his name, he repelled the project with indignation. It was a kind of man- worship, and a dishonor to Christ, from which his whole nature recoiled. ' Who, then,' he said, ' is Paul ? Who is Paul ? Was Paul crucified for you ? Paul and Apollos are but ministers ; and shall the servant usurp the place of his Lord ? ' In connection with his warm utterances on this subject, he tells us how to look upon uninspired authors of systems of ethics and theology. There is only one foundation ; and that is Christ, and his work as a Saviour. Whoever builds on this foundation is a Christian teacher ; but he may mingle in his system, in the superstructure which he builds up by the effort of his intellect, wood, hay, and stubble, or ele- ments of doctrine that will not endure the searching test. Building on the true foundation, he is personally saved ; but the system that he has created is a human work, is liable to imperfection, and will, at last, be sifted. In this light the great system-makers in the church — as Origen, Augustine, Aquinas, Calvin, Edwards — are to be regarded. Their un- dertaking is legitimate : they may render a great service in the exposition and defence of truth ; but they are not au- 504 THE APOSTLE PAUL. thoritative teachers ; and, when an undue deference is paid to them, Christ loses the place that belongs to him. If Paul was offended that his name should be given to a party in the church, is there not, to say the least, an equal objection to ' the practice of Christians, in later ages, of arraying them- selves under the banner of some favorite theologian ? Turning now from the doctrine to glance at the work of the apostle Paul, we find him, by the natural bent of his mind, a missionary. After, as before his conversion, he was a propagandist. A life of contemplative devotion wouldv have been intolerable to him. His favorite metaphor is drawn from the race-course : athletes and soldiers are his types of Christian manliness. There is one popular idea respecting Paul, which, I think, is ill-founded. He is fre- quently styled a learned man. It is true that he may be called a scholar, so far as the Old Testament Scriptures and the theology and casuistry of the Jewish schools are con- cerned. As an intellectual man, he is to be rated above most, and probably all, of the apostles, who belonged to what was considered by their countrymen the uneducated class. But there is no sufficient ground for supposing that Paul was a learned man in the sense in which this term is generally applied to him. It is not probable that he had studied the Greek authors. Remember that he was of the stock of Israel, a Hebrew of the Hebrews; born, not of proselytes, but of Hebrew parentage on both sides. It is not improbable that his father or grandfather had been a captive in war, and, being emancipated, had acquired the right of citizenship which descended to Paul. But his father, though living in Tarsus, a cultivated city, was a rigid Jew. Had he found his son reading a pagan writer, it is likely that he would have dealt with him as one of our Puri- tan ancestors would have treated a child whom he had caught reading the tales of Boccaccio. Transferred at an early age to Jerusalem, he sat at the feet of the Jewish doctor, Gama- THE APOSTLE PAUL. 605 liel. Here the method of instruction was interlocutory ; a stimulating method, which was practised also by the masters of Greek philosophy, and is too little in vogue in our mod- ern schemes of education. Gamaliel is represented in the Jewish tradition as more tolerant in reference to Greek wis- dom than most of the rabbis of that day. He gave advice to the Sanhedrim that might indicate that the apostles had made some impression on him of a favorable kind ; but, on the other hand, might imply an expectation on his part that the new sect would soon die a natural death. The president of the Sanhedrim, it is not probable that he had any real in- clination towards the Christian doctrine, except as far as it recognized the belief in a resurrection, which the Pharisees also cherished. But, whatever was the temper of the teach- er, we know very w^ell what were the sentiments and spirit of the pupil. " After the straitest sect of our religion," he says, " I lived a Pharisee ; . . . . concerning zeal, perse- cuting the church." After his conversion, and his return from Arabia, he spent several years again at Tarsus. Here it is reasonable to suppose that he came in contact with dis- ciples of the Greek philosophy ; in particular, of the Stoic system, of which Tarsus was a flourishing seat. The occa- sional use of Stoic phraseology and maxims, in a new and higher application, in his writings, is certainly remarkable, and may be owing to opportunities of personal intercourse with Stoic teachers which he then enjoyed. His coinci- dences, extending even to forms of expression, with Seneca,, are much more reasonably ascribed to that sort of acquain- tance with Stoic doctrine than to a personal acquaintance of the two men ; a supposition which has little evidence in its favor. But what is the proof that he was possessed of the erudition that is sometimes attributed to him ? A passage that occurs in the poet Aratus, who happens to have been a native of Tarsus, to the effect that we are the offspring of God (Acts xvii. 28) ; and a hexameter line, which occurs in Epimenides, on the bad qualities of the Cretans (Tit. i. 12). 23 606 THE APOSTLE PAUL. But these sayings, it is likely, were scraps in general circu- lation, and no more indicate a familiarity with Greek authors than the repetition of the words, " An honest man is the no- blest w^ork of God," with the accompanying remark, that it is an utterance of some of the English poets, proves a man to be conversant with English literature. There is no indi- cation in Paul's writings, and no proof from any quarter, that he had read JEschylus or Homer, Plato or Demosthenes, or any other classic writer of heathen antiquity. Had he studied either of these authors, it is hardly possible that dis- tinct traces of this fact should be missing from his writings. The style, as well as the contents, of his letters, would ex- hibit signs of a culture so diverse from that which the rab- bis afforded. The " much learning " which, as Festus thought, had made Paul mad, was converse with Jewish, not Gentile books ; and of this matter Festus was a poor judge, learning being a source of insanity to which he had probably taken care not to expose himself. Perhaps the impression to which we refer in respect to Paul's Gentile learning may have sprung from a natural wish of some minds to have one among the apostles who could lay claim to this distinction. It reminds one of the lavish praise that it was once the cus- tom of preachers to bestow on the scientific acquirements of the first man ; as when Robert South says that Aristotle was but the rubbish of Adam, and Athens the ruins of Paradise. But Paul is indebted for his eminence to sources of power far higher than literature and science can confer. It was impossible that all vestiges of his rabbinical training should be cast aside ; but they serve as a foil to set off more im- pressively the native vigor of his mind. If he did not de- vote himself to the study of the heathen authors, he fully comprehended heathenism as a religious phenomenon. The religious aspiration that lies at the root of heathen worship is pointed out in the discourse at Athens. The origin of idolatry is revealed in the opening chapter of the Epistle to the Romans. The responsibility of those who have not HE APOSTLE PAUL. 607 been taught by a written revelation is proved by referring to the testimony of their own consciences and the law writ- ten on the heart. How was the declaration of the Saviour, that " salvation is of the Jews," verified afresh when this " Hebrew of the Hebrews " stood on Mars' Hill, and proclaim- ed to an audience of Athenians Jesus and the resurrection ! Among the qualifications of Paul for his peculiar work as a propagator of the gospel and a founder of churches, the singular blending of enthusiasm with prudence in his nature deserves attention. There was a fire which no difiiculties that stood in his path could quench ; but along with it there was a moderation, the temperance or sobriety, which kept him back from all extravagance. He unites a zeal, which one might think would brook no restraint, with a wonder- ful tact and shrewdness. A certain sagacity, or good sense, presides over his conduct. His burning zeal never runs into fanaticism. At the right time, he knows how to con- sult expediency. When we find these apparently incongru- ous qualities combined in the champion of anycause, we may look out for great results. These traits mingle in the char- acter of such a statesman as Cromwell, and in the founders of some of the great religious orders in tlie Catholic Church. The history of Paul contains many examples of the oppor- tune exercise of this prudence and tact. He would not yield an inch to the demand of the Judaizers when the principle was at stake, even though Peter was seduced to give them his tacit support ; but he rebuked this leading apostle in pointed terms. Yet he would go very far in making concessions to remove the misunderstanding and prejudice of the Jews, and to pacify Jewish feeling that was offended by his apparently radical proceedings. Before the Sanhe- drim he contrived, by avowing himself a believer in one of the doctrines of the Pharisees, to kindle a strife between the two schools of doctors, in the smoke of which he effected his escape. He was not afraid of the face of man : he did not tremble before the furious mob at Jerusalem, and he 508 THE APOSTLE PAIJIi. stood before Kero without quailing. But he was not the man to throw away his life ; and he did not think it undig- nified to be let down in a basket from the wall of Damascus. He had no heroic moods that moved him to fling away a reasonable caution. His courtesy to heathen magistrates, even bad men, is in marked contrast with the temper of a fanatic. A refinement and delicacy of sentiment are never wanting. He considers it a superstition to refuse to eat the meat of animals that have been killed at the altars of Jupi- ter, Diana, or Neptune ; but he would drive nobody into doing what he felt to be wrong, however unfounded his scruples might be. He would not, like a fanatic, insist on the outward act before the conviction was ripe for it. In a kind of chivalry of tenderness, as one has called it, he would himself abstain from eating such meat, if his example was to mislead a weak and superstitious brother into the doing of a right thing against his conscience. The practical wis- dom, or sobriety, of Paul, is illustrated on a point where an ignorant criticism has often condemned or sneered at him — in what he says of the dress and deportment of Christian women. He paid a proper respect to the ancient ideas of decorum, not wishing unnecessarily to stir up a prejudice where there was already hostility enough against the infant churches. Paul is censured for the very things that pre- vented the churches from being broken up by tumults with- in, and by enmity and suspicion without. He knew just where to draw the line between a Christian independence and a reckless fanaticism. He would do more than excite a commotion: he would organize and build on enduring foun-. dations. I wish that all zealots for social reforms would spend the time which they devote to supercilious criticism upon Paul in the humble study of his life. Let me observe here, that no man has given a higher honor to woman, or set a higher dignity and sacredness upon marriage, than the apostle who makes it the symbol of the union of Christ with his church. THE APOSTLE PAUL. 609 The sympathy of Paul with his fellow-disciple^, with his countrymen, and with all men, " Greeks and Barbarians," made self-sacrifice the habit of his life. He clasped the lit- tle churches as children in his arms. In his communications to them, he poured out his tender solicitude and more than paternal affection. All that he is, all that he experienced, is for them. Whether he is afflicted or consoled, it is a divine appointment for their benefit. Any form of spirit- ual good that he may possess is not for Limself, but has been given that it might be imparted again to them. A beautiful instance of this identification of himself with his brethren is found in the passage (2 Cor. i. 4) in which he speaks with gratitude of the comfort which he had received from God, " who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may he able to comfort them, which are in any trouhle hy the comfort wherewith we are comforted of GodP So deep is his sympathy for his kinsmen of the race of Israel, that he would himself willingly be cut off and cursed for their sake ! A power in itself, the self-denying love of the apostle called out all his energies, and kept them directed to a sin- gle end. The absorbing religious consecration of Paul is the lead- ing feature in his character. His earnest, strenuous devo- tion to the word to which he had been called by the Master had no intermission, and knew no rest. It must not be for- gotten that we have in the book of Acts a sketch of only a fragment of Paul's missionary career, which covered, in all, a period of thirty years. In the reference that he incident- ally makes to the perils, indignities, and hardships to which he had been subject — how he had been scourged and stoned ; had fallen among robbers ; been exposed to the plots of hostile Jews and treacherous disciples, to hunger and cold ; burdened with the care of churches only just con- verted from paganism — he mentions that thrice he had ex- perienced shipwreck. This was written before the occur- rence of the shipwreck on the shore of Malta, which is de- 510 THE APOSTLE PAUL. scribed hy Luke. There is a vast, unrecorded history of toil, anxiety, persecution, casualty ; chapters of biography irrecoverably lost, but all the more pathetic for the veil that hangs over them. His life was one long campaign. So he himself felt at the close. He could look back and say that he had fought a good fight. It is interesting to notice that the great idea of righteousness, the one idea that had engaged his thoughts from childhood, was still before his mind : " Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me." I must gather up, in the briefest compass, a few of the lessons for our time, and for all tinie, which are drawn from the glimpses we have taken of the character and career of the Apostle to the Gentiles. He is an eloquent witness to the supremacy that belongs to religion, in Christian teaching, as in the lives of men. The inculcation of justice and charity among men is never to be neglected ; but the life of ethics is in religion. The recovery of men to God is the prime end of the Gospel. The preaching of Paul was a beseeching of men, in the name of Christ, to be reconciled to God. In all Christian ages, Paul is a witness against ritualism — if by ritualism is meant a dependence upon external rites and an earthly priesthood. Imagine a ritualist of this de- scription thanking God that he had baptized onl}^ Caius and Crispus and a few other individuals, as Paul says of the church at Corinth, with which he stood in such intimate re- lations ! At the Reformation, it was the voice of Paul that called men away from human mediators to Christ, and broke up the reign of the mediaeval system of religion. As long as the Epistle to the Galatians remains, it will be impossible for Judaizing Christianity permanently to triumph in the church. THE APOSTLE PAUL. 511 How is Christ exalted when we look at tlie greatness of Paul and the greatness of his influence ! Luther said that the spiritual miracles were the greatest. Paul, in all that constitutes the excellence of his character and influence, was, as he himself felt in his inmost soul, only one effect of Christ. The splendor of the planet is not its own, but is derived from the sun round which it revolves. In this dependent relation Paul consciously stood to Christ. "When we con- template such a disciple, are not the power and rank of the Master felt to be altogether unique? Is there not some other, transcendent distinction between Paul and Christ be- sides that of the degree of moral excellence that belonged to them respectively ? The love of Christ to him was the one great consolation and joy, from which no event, and no power, human or superhuman, could separate him. There is something in the bare relation of this disciple to his Lord, apart from all specific declarations, which impresses us with the conviction that Christ, in the apostle's view, was more than a morally perfect man. He stands forth as the divine author of a new spiritual creation. The best fruit that we can gather from a view of the life of Paul is a rebuke for the languid spirit that belongs to our service of the Master, and a spur to a more unselfish, earnest, courageous performance of whatever work he has given us to do. The most effectual defence of the Christian cause is not reasoning, which ingenious men may contrive to parry, but the irresistible argument of a holy life, before which infidelity stands abashed. 512 THE FOUR gospels: THE FOUR GOSPELS : A REVIEW OF SUPERNATU- RAL RELIGION.* The anonymolis work entitled Swpernatural Religion is an elaborate attack upon the validity of the evidences and the authenticity of the documents of the Christian religion. The morality of the New Testament is alone possessed of value, in the judgment of the writer ; and this morality is not helped, but weakened, in its influence by the religious doctrine connected with it.f By "morality" he under- stands love to God and man, although he implies that the personality of God is an anthropomoi*phic conception.:]: He reserves, however, the full exposition of his theoretical sys- tem, which is to supersede revelation, for another work, to be issued hereafter. Nearly one-half of the first volume (pp. 1-214) is taken up with a discussion of the subject of miracles, in which their incredibility is advocated, and a polemical review is presented of the arguments of Newman, Trench, and especially of Mozley. The remainder of the first volume and the whole of the second are devoted to a critical examination of the evidence for the genuineness of the synoptic Gospels and of the Gospel of John. In this, by far the most important, portion of the work, the early ecclesiastical writers are subjected to an extended scrutiny. The author is conversant with the modem critical discussions in Germany. He is very copious in his marginal references to books, even taking pains to point out volume and page of * From The Independent^ in November and December, 1874. The title of the work reviewed is : Supernatural Religion. An Inquiry into the Reality of Divine Revelation. In two vols. London : Longmans, Green &Co. 1874. t Vol. ii., p. 483. X Vol. i., p. 72. A REVIEW OF SUPEENATURAL RELIGION. 613 the well-known manuals on the Introduction to the New Testament, and of other books of a like character, on occa- sions where there is hardly need of so much particularity. The book is, for substance, a reproduction in English of the theories and arguments of the Tubingen school respecting early Christianity and the gospels. Baur, Hilgenfeld, Yolk- mar, Zeller, Schwegler, Scholten, and their coadjutors are the names with which his foot-notes are most frequently sprinkled. It is the Tubingen criticism anglicized. The impression which the book makes in England, if we may judge from the tone of the English press, indicates a want of familiarity on the part of the educated class in that country with the course of theological discussion on the con- tinent. Journals like the Pall Mall Gazette are quite daz- zled at the erudition, as well as skill, of the unknown com- batant. In some points this Anglican critic out-herods Herod. For example, in contradiction to most of the scholars of the German sceptical school, he still claims that Marcion's Gospel is the original of Luke's,* and will not admit — what even Hilgenfeld and Strauss concede — that the Clementine Homilies quote from the fourth gospel. Can- did and discerning readers of works like Bleek's Introduction to the New Testament^ Norton's Genuineness of the Gosj)els, and Westcott's Canon of the New Testament — we purposely name books which are accessible to English readers — will de- tect without difficulty the fallacies which swarm in this last attack on the gospels. To sift the work in detail and to ex- pose the mass of sophistry which it contains would require a large space. It is practicable, however, to point out the weakness of some of its main positions. We begin with the first three Gospels. We shall after- wards take up the Gospel of John. It cannot be denied (and this author does not deny) that in the latter half of the second century the number of Gospels acknowledged in *[ This opinion is retracted in the 7th edition of Supernatural Eeltgion.] 22* 514 THE FOUR gospels: the church ever}^where — from Antioch and the farthest East to Carthage and the Atlantic shore of Spain — is limited to the four of our canon. Clement, and Irenaeus, and Tertul- lian, the Italic version, and probably the Sjriac version, are the chief witnesses. These Gospels the fathers of that time affirm to have been handed down from the apostolic age. This anonymous author fifty times asserts that in the first half of the second century numerous gospels were widely circulated in the church. This statement is utterly unproved and it is untrue. The Gospel of the Hebrews, in its different recensions, was an altered Matthew, and the Gospel of Mar- cion a mutilated Luke. The one was in use among the Ebionites and the other in the Marcionite sect. Leaving these out of the accoimt, the reiterated statement about the wide circulation and acceptance of other gospels is without foundation. But, if the writer's assertion were true, it would puzzle him to give a satisfactory explanation of the fact that the four — these and no others — are found, in the last quarter of the second century, consentaneously adopted by the churches scattered over the Eoman Empire, and adopted without a lisp of dissent or contradiction among them. Yery few of the ecclesiastical writers of \hQ first half of the second century are extant. The most important of those whose works remain is Justin Martyr. About the genuine- ness of his two apologies and of the dialogue with Trypho there is no question. It is natural that the author of Su- jyernatiiral Religion should exert himself to the utmost to show that Justin's quotations are not, as they have been generally deemed to be, derived from the gospels of the canon, but from lost works. About forty years ago, Cred- ner, a theologian of Giessen, published his critical works on the New Testament, in which the quotations of Justin were collected and tabulated. The judgment of this scholar was not always equal to his learning. He held that the first three gospels were in the hands of Justin, and he believed in the Johannine authorship of the fourth ; but he attributed A REVIEW OF SUPERNATURAL RELIGION. 515 exaggerated influence to the Jewish gospels — the " Gospel of the Hebrews," etc. — and maintained that Justin drew at least the main portion of his passages from them. The Tubingen doctors started with the facts and data of Credner, and, as one might expect, pushed his theory to the extreme of excluding altogether the canonical gospels from the knowledge of Justin. The author of Sujpernatural Religion treads closely in their footsteps. Justin ten times calls the source of his quotations the Memoirs hy the Apostles, and five times simply Memoirs / in one case he speaks of them as composed by " the apostles and their companions," * and once he explains that they " are called Gospels." f In the passage where " the apostles and their companions " are mentioned as the authors of the Memoirs the connected quotation is found in Luke, a circumstance that w^ould ac- count for the express reference to " companions" in connec- tion with " apostles." The reason why the gospels are called Memoirs, without a mention of the author's names, is plain. Justin was writing for heathen readers, or for Jews, who knew nothing of the evangelists by name, and would not understand the title " Gospels." In several places in the " Dialogue with Trypho," who was acquainted with Chris- tianity, Justin does use " the Gospel " in the singular as a designation for the Memoirs. Seeing that later fathers in the same century — as Irenseus and Tertullian — employ this very term as a name for the four gospels collectively, it is natural to suppose that Justin did the same. His Dialogue with Trypho was written about a.d. 160, when Irenseus must have been about thirty years of age. The Memoirs, what- ever they were, were read along with the prophets, Justin tells us, in the Christian assemblies on the Lord's Day, in city and country. The author whom we are reviewing re- peatedly affirms that Justin did not consider the Memoirs inspired or authoritative, that he believed them solely on ♦ Dial, c. 103. t ^'Po'^- i-» ^6. 516 THE FOUR gospels: account of their accordance with prophecy, and that he was a Judaizer, hostile to Paul — statements contrary to the truth, but not of sufficient relevancy to require here a refutation. In the first place, this author expresses the re- markable opinion that Justin by his Memoirs designates a single gospel — one work. Then this one book must have had " the apostles and their companions " for its authors ! Against this odd supposition, stands not only the natural interpretation of Justin's language in all of his references to the Memoirs, but also his express declaration that they " are called gospels." But this last clause, without a particle of manuscript evidence, is thrown out of the text and pro- nounced spurious ! That the author is not absolutely alone in this emendation makes it none the less an arbitrary con- jecture. When Justin speaks of the Memoirs as \^Titten by " the apostles and their companions " there is no reason to doubt that he has in mind the works which Tertullian describes in just the same manner. When he refers to a circumstance about Peter as recorded in his Memoirs it is right to conclude that the Gospel of Mark which Papias and the ancient church connected with Peter as having been written by his disciple, is the book referred to.* Secondly, the author of Supernatural Religion tries to get over the difficulty arising from the liturgical use of the MemoirSyhj pretending that many other works were read in like manner. A few homiletic writings — as the EjpistU of Clement, and the Shejpherd of Ilermas — were not unfi-equently read in the early churches. But, with the exception of the Gos- pel of the Hebrews in the Ebionitic communities, there is no proof that other gospels than the four had this public recognition. Justin must have been acquainted with the churches of Italy and Asia. How did the unknown gospel, which corresponded so closely to the canonical narratives, and * In Dial.^ c. 106. In the same sentence, Justin refers to Boanerges, as the name given to John and James, a fact mentioned by Mark alone of the Evangelists. A REVIEW OF SUPERNATURAL RELIGION. 517 which it is pretended that Justin quotes from, get crowded out of the services on Sunday and get supplanted by others, and all within the space of a few years, since Irenseus must have been a man grown, when Justin wrote his Dialogue ? Justin himself dwells on the multitude of Christians in his time, who were scattered over the whole world, among all nations, whether nomadic or civilized.* How could the gos- pels which existed in multiplied copies, and which they read in their public worship, be suddenly dropped, and exchanged for others, and no notice be left of the fact of such a revolu- tion or of the process by which it was effected ? In the very great number of references to the gospel narrative in Justin there is a general and striking coinci- dence with our evangelists. "We shall here speak of the first three gospels, reserving the consideration of John for a later page. We have in Justin no myths respecting Mary and the infancy of Jesus, such as fill the apocryphal narratives. Why attribute his references to any other source than to the gospels of the canon ? First, our author brings forward the fact that the quotations are not verbally accurate. But {a) this is no peculiarity of Justin. The other fathers, who are known to have received the four alone, quote from memory and exhibit the same sort of in- accuracy. One of the most striking instances of this inex- act method of quotation is in the case of Matt. xi. 27 (Luke x. 22), on which our author builds much. But the same devia- tions from the canonical text are found in Clement of Alex- andria, Origen, and Irenseus ; so that his argument is good for nothing. To paraphrase a passage, instead of giving it ver- hathn / to combine the language of two evangelists upon the same matter ; to misrecoUect the phraseology of a passage and to quote it more than once in the same inexact form, are so natural, so explicable on known principles of mental action, and so common, even at the present day, that phe- * Dial, c. 117. 518 THE FOUR GOSPELS *. nomena of this sort, occurring at a time when the gospels were comparatively new and were read only in manuscripts, should occasion no surprise. It is true that the author be- fore us stigmatizes this method of accounting for Justin's in- accurate quotations, as " elastic," " convenient," " arbitrary," etc. But such epithets will affect no one who reflects on the subject and who is acquainted with the ordinary practice of the authors of antiquity, {h) We find that Justin quotes other writers with quite as much freedom as to the verbal form. He quotes the Septuagint with similar departures from the text. He quotes from Plato, especially in one striking passage where we might look for a literal citation, with a deviation from the original as marked as that of most of his gospel quotations.'^ Did he read a different Plato, an apocryphal Timcms f Is the supposition that he read the TimcBus that we read, " elastic," " arbitrary," the sub- terfuge of " Apologists " ? He quotes from Isaiah, doubt- less by a mistake, a passage not to be found in the prophet.f Does this prove that he had another Isaiah or was unac- quainted with the canonical books of tlie Old Testament ? Has the canonical Isaiah supplanted an earlier Isaiah which Justin used ? Lastly (»aZ., c. 63. , tVol. i.,p. 341. A REVIEW OF ST7PERNATUEAL RELIGION. 521 acquainted with the Gospel of the Hebrews — the Ebionitic Matthew ; and that reminiscences of his reading of that book may have mingled themselves with his extracts from the canonical four. Certain sayings of Jesus and circum- stances in his life which are not recorded by the Evangel- ists formed a part of the early tradition. They found their way into books. Whether Justin drew these few things from such books or from an oral source — from traditional report — it is difficult to decide. But there is one point of capital importance : not one of these extra-canonical state- ments is referred hy him to the Memoirs. The author of Supernatural Religion labors hard to prove the contrary, but he labors in vain. In the account of the baptism of Jesus it is only what our gospels contain that is referred by Justin to the Memoirs. To infer that he means to attribute his whole narrative of this event to them is without warrant. If this inference were just, it would only authoi-ize us to con- clude that Justin's memory in this instance, as in the case of va- rious references by him to the Old Testament, was imperfect. That Justin drew the bulk of his references to the gos- pels from the Matthew, Mark, and Luke of our canon, is one of the best-established results of impartial critical and historical research. That he made use of John's Gospel is, also, capable of satisfactory proof. If the notions of the author of Supernatural Religion as to the source of Justin's quotations were tenable we should have to conclude that there was a gospel preceding the four of the canon, which contained a great part of the contents of all of them ; that the four were written on the basis of it, each drawing off a portion of the matter ; that this comprehensive gospel was dropped by the churches after the middle of the second century, and the four taken up in the room of it.* * [The improbabilities (amounting to absurdity) of this theory as to the contents of The Goapel to the Hebrews, and its relation to the canoni- cal gospels, are well set forth in The Lost Oospd and its Contents^ by the Eev. M. F. Sadler, M.A. (London, 187G).] 522 THE FOUK GOSPELS : As we approach the close of the second century we find that the churches everywhere, without conciiiar action or the influence of prominent individuals, have settled in com- mon upon the four gospels as possessed of exclusive author- ity. This very remarkable fact is fully attested, as we have remarked, by the testimony of the fathers, and by the early versions. The author of Supernatural Religion repeatedly alludes to the use of other gospels by Clement of Alexan- dria ; but -Clement himself, referring to an alleged conversa- tion of Salome and Jesus, says : " We have not this saying in the four gosjpels which have been handed down to us, but in that according to the Egyptians." * He distinguishes the four as authoritative. We must offer a brief comment here upon the way in which the Muratorian Canon is treated in the work which we are criticising. This interesting frag- ment, as is well known, begins with a broken sentence, which may be naturally interpreted as relating to Mark's Gospel. The MS. then proceeds to speak of the " tlikd book of the Gospel according to Luke " ; then of the Gospel of John, which is called the fourth; and then of the Acts. That Matthew and Mark preceded this notice of Luke in the ms., no person can reasonably doubt. Yet this author is bold enough to say that there is no evidence of it " stronger than a mere conjecture." The ms. says of the Pastor of Her- nias: "Ilermas, in truth, composed the Pastor ^'e/'y recently in our times in the City of Rome, the Bishop Pius, his broth- er, sitting in the chair of the Church of the City of Rome." The latest possible date of the episcopate of Pius is 142-157 ; yet our author falls back upon a subterfuge of Yolkmar, who suggested that the writer of the canon speaks of the date of Hermas comparatively, in relation to that of the apostolic writings — a suggestion having no support from the language of the document — and forthwith brings down its date " to a late period of the third century." He even observes, with • Str&ni,, iil, 13. A REVIEW OF SUPEKNATrKAL RELIGION. 523 some naivete, that if it can be supposed tliat the phrase was used thirtj or forty years after the time of Pius, " so much license is taken that there is absolutely no reason why a still greater interval may not be allowed." " Very recently," " in our times " — keep us, at least, within the limit of the second century. Be it observ^ed that this same author, who resorts to such flimsy arguments in order to bring the Muratorian MS. down into the third century, nevertheless treats the fact that Matthew and Mark were referred to in it, as " a mere conjecture ! " This author discloses a partisan spirit in what he says of Marcion's Gospel, which, being an altered, mutilated Luke, proves the currency of the canonical third gospel in the first half of the second century. Kitschl and some others of the Tubingen school, contrary to the declaration of the fathers — Irengeus, Tertullian, Epiphanius — and to the well-nigh uni- versal opinion, had defended the proposition tiiat Marcion's Gospel was first and that Luke's grew out of it. This opin- ion was confuted by Yolkmar, of the same school, who was supported by Hilgenfeld and Zeller ; and these were joined by Baur and by Ritschl, who retracted their former opin- ions. The priority of our Luke in general was thus con- ceded by the sceptical school which had impugned it. The author of Sujoernatural Heligion is adventurous enough to take up " the lost cause." He prepares the way by sweep- ing remarks upon the utterly uncritical habit of the fathers, and the worthlessness of their testimony. Especially does he seek to heap contempt upon Tertullian, the most formid- able witness in the case, who, though a vehement controver- sialist (like Martin Luther), had taken great pains to inform himself about Marcion. Almost the only thing of the na- ture of serious argument in connection with this indiscrim- inate and, therefore, unjust diatribe against the fathers, is the attempt to show that Marcion admitted into his Gospel various things inconsistent with his alleged design to exclude what gave sanction to the Old Testament and the Jewish 524 THE FOUR GOSPELS : system. Whoever will carefully consider the omitted pas- sages — as given by De Wette and Bleek — will see that they fully sustain the allegation of the church writers as to the intent of Marcion. That he did not use the pruning-knife with absolute consistency and thoroughness, that in some cases he relied upon strained and perverse interpretations, as a means of getting -rid of obnoxious statements, does not militate against the truth of this allegation. In the case of one of Marcion's characteristic alterations, our author de- fends Marcion's reading, in the face of decisive evidence. The passage is Luke xvi. 17. Marcion rejected all of the apostles but Paul, and, hence, cast away the gospels with which they were connected. But Irenreus and Tertullian both distinctly imply that he was acquainted with the other canonical gospels. Marcion expunged, also, from the Epis- tles of Paul passages opposed to his own type of doctrine. This is established, although in some cases his variations were doubtless due to diverse readings of the text. The Marcionites, after their master, introduced further altera- tions into the documents which they received. Besides the peculiarity of Marcion's changes, it is on other grounds irra- tional to assign the priority to his gospel. Did the church in the middle of the second century take a gospel from the hands of a heretical sect and amplify it ? This is one mar- velous hypothesis which has not wanted supporters. The absurdity of it the author before us appears to recognize. He broaches the theory that Marcion's Gospel was the orig- inal Luke, and had remained in use among the churches of Pontus after it had been supplanted elsewhere by our third gospel. He would have us believe that Marcion's Gospel had been altered and enlarged, and in this new form had been spread abroad ; while the first form, the germ of it, still remained among the orthodox Christians of Pontus, where Marcion was brought up. It is fatal to this extraor- dinary hypothesis that there is not a particle of evidence, from any quarter, that Marcion's Gospel was ever used by A REVIEW OF SUPEENATUEAL RELIGION. 525 any but Marcionites. There is no proof whatever that Mar- cion, his opponents, or his followers pretended that his gos- pel was in use among the orthodox any wliere, either before or after his time. Marcion's Gospel began with the third chapter of our Luke. The prologue of Luke — the first verses — bears every mark of being a part of the original work, and not a forged addition by some later hand. The Gospel has throughout the same uniform characteristics of style and language. It is by one and the same writer.* The author of Sxijpernatural Religion is not less sophisti- cal in his treatment of the testimony of Papias. He is very free in imputing prejudice and unfairness to Westcott, Tisch- endorf , and to " Apologists " generally ; but he himself fur- nishes not a few instances of special pleading which are not worthy of a scholar. " It is clear," he says, " that, even if Papias knew any of our gospels, he attached little or no value to them." f As if Papias took pains to give an ac- count of the origin of gospels and of the connection of apos- tles with them, but attached no value to these works ! Pa- pias says that Mark, in writing down Peter's accounts of Christ's deeds and words, did not observe a chronological order. On the ground of the statement, which, at best may have been a merely subjective judgment of Papias — natural, perhaps, in view of the abrupt beginning and abbreviated character of the second Gospel — it is concluded that Papias refers to some other book than onr Mark. Neither Irenseus, Eusebius, or any other of the ancient writers, who had the work of Papias in their hands, dreamed of his referring to any other Mark than the canonical Gospel. We are told again, of course, that these authors were uncritical, imbecile : yet they were critical enough to make inquiries on this very subject, and to examine the statements of Papias. These * [As stated above, the author of Supernatural Religion, in his last edition, retracts the opinion that Marcion's Gospel preceded the canonical Luke. ] f Vol. ii. , p. 445. 526 THE FOUR GOSPELS : wholesale charges against the fathers are extremely unjust, and are only serviceable to help an advocate bolster up a weak cause. When it serves his turn, this same w^riter is ready enough to rely on them. Hilgenfeld maintained that our Mark has been manipulated by a devotee of the Petrine interest. The author before us thinks it not Petrine enough to suit the account of Papias. A candid student will find little weight in the arguments of either of these critics on this point. There is nothing in the gospel, and nothing omitted from it, which can lead to the conclusion that a dis- ciple of Peter was not its author. But if SujpeTnatural Re- ligion is correct in holding that Papias referred here to the apocryphal book called The Preaching of Peter ^ it is an in- teresting question how this book became universally sup- planted and superseded by our second Gospel, without any notice, too, of the fact, or any traces of a controversy. We are not favored with any solution of this tough problem. " It is not necessary for us to account " for this disappear- ance of one book, and adoption of another in its room, says our author ; and then he pours out his customary assertions about the uncritical character of the fathers. This is sim- ply to throw dust in the eyes of his readers. There are cu- rious inconsistencies in this author's comments upon the ref- erence of Papias to Matthew. He takes the term Logia in the restricted sense, to denote " the discourses " of the Lord. Hence he infers that the first Gospel, in its present form, was not known to Papias — a quite illegitimate inference, since Papias, in referring to the translation which every one made as he could from the Aramaic original, speaks in the aorist tense. The implication is, that the necessity for trans- lating no longer existed. The main point of our author's argumentation is that, if there was not a Hebrew (Aramaic) original, we have no testimony to the fact of the existence of a Gospel by Matthew. Various writers — including even Guizot — have asserted that Calvin first published his Insti- tutes in French. The fact is that the first publication of A REVIEW OF SUPEENATDEAL RELIGION. 627 that work was in Latin. Then, by parallel reasoning, as re- gards the testimony of all these writers, we have no proof at all that Calvin ever wrote or published the Institutes, But the author of Swpernatural Religion appeals to the state- ment of Pantaenus, Irenseus, Eusebius, and the fathers gen- erally, in favor of a Hebrew original of Matthew. Xow all of these fathers speak of the entire Gospel ; so that, by par- ity of reasoning, again, if their testimony is good for any- thing, it was the whole Gospel which Papias had. The chronological position of this "ancient man" renders the opposite opinion in the highest degree improbable. The question whether the first Gospel is a translation or not, is decided differently by equally competent critics. Bleek plausibly explains how Papias might have been misled on this point. His testimony in general would not be invali- dated by such an error. The author of Supernatural Be- ligion contends w4th much positiveness that if the first Gos- pel is a translation of a lost original, it is destitute of author- ity. But here, as so often elsewhere, he falls into fallacious, extravagant assertions. "We have not the space even to sum up the evidence for the antiquity of the first three Gospels. The unanimous, undisputed acceptance of them by the churches of the last half of the second century, their coincidence with known fact in a thousand archaeological particulars, their eschato- logical passages (Matt, xxiv., xxv., etc.), their sobriety of tone, in which they are in marked contrast with apocryphal Gospels, are among the principal proofs of their early com- position. Peferring to a strange expression about the mil- lenium, attributed, on the ground of tradition, by Papias to Jesus, the work before us says that, if " it be not of a very elevated character, it is quite in the spirit of that age." This author would not deny that it is utterly foreign to the spirit of the canonical Gospels. It illustrates what sort of stuff they would have contained had they been composed at the period where he would place them. We may say one 528 THE FOUR GOSPELS I word here upon the genuineness of the Gospel of Luke. The book of Acts refers back to the third Gospel. Both profess to be by the same author. They are homogeneous in style. Both books were written throughout by the same pen. Tradition from the beginning ascribed them to Luke. At the part of the narrative in the Acts where Paul leaves Troas (xvi. 11) the writer first uses the first person plural — " we.'^ This disappears after Paul leaves Philippi and un- til his return. Then the same form of expression reappears (xxi. 1-18 ; xxvii. 1 ; xxviii. 17). It is implied, of course, that the writer became a companion of Paul. Since the Acts is not a conglomerate, is not a piece of patchwork, but is composed and wrought by a single author, it follows that, if this author was not an actual participant in the events at the points referred to, we must attribute to him a knavish device — a trick, too, of a sort unexampled in apocryphal lit- erature. Suppose these two books to have been written by Luke, to whom the unanimous tradition of the ancient churches ascribed them, and the peculiarities to which we have adverted, as well as their whole structure and complex- ion, meet with a perfectly natural explanation. But, if the genuineness of Luke is established, doubt respecting the an- tiquity of Matthew and Mark must disappear. The patristic evidence for the Gospels is, to use an old simile, like a bundle of fagots. There are single sticks in the bundle which it is almost impossible to break. Of many of these rods, however, it is true that each can be separately broken ; yet, when combined, they are irrefraga- ble. There are leading proofs, and there are corroborative proofs. The art of the controversialist, which the author of /Supernatural Beligion finely exemplifies, is to isolate each of the numerous items of evidence and then attack it by itself. Thus, in the case of the Fourth Gosjpel, there are passages in Ignatius, in the Epistle to Diognetus, and in other docu- ments, which, taken in connection with the general stream of A REVIEW OF SUPERNATURAL RELIGION. 529 evidence, go to prove the Johannine authorship ; though, considered by themselves, thej are not conclusive. The. writer's arguments against the genuineness of the Fourth Gospel are few of them new, and thej have been more than once confuted. His attempt to show that Papias was not acquainted with the Fourth Gospel, on account of the silence of Eusebius on this point, is utterly futile, as any one can see who will observe the limit which Eusebius proposes to ob- serve, and actually did observe, in his references to quotations made by the earlier writers from New Testament books. References to " acknowledged," or undisputed books, among which he reckons John's Gospel, he did not profess to notice.* The efforts to show that Justin Martyr was not acquainted with this gospel is one of the points that merit attention. This author maintains that Justin drew his conceptions of the Logos mainly from Philo. But Justin, although he may have been acquainted with Philo's writings, does not mention him, even in the dialogue with the Jew, where the authority of the Alexandrian might have helped him in his argument. But there is this grand peculiarity of Justin and the Chris- tian writers, that they dwell upon the incarnation. It is the incaimate Logos in whom they are chiefly interested. But the incarnation of the Logos is something utterly for- eign to Alexandrian Judaism. The Logos is scarcely per- sonal in Philo ; of the incarnation of the Logos in a man, the life and soul of the doctrine alike in John and in Justin, the Alexandrian speculatist knows nothing. The substance of the Christian conception of Christ was the direct effect of the impression which he made upon the apostles and of his testimony respecting himself. The Logos terminology was no part of his own teaching; it was the vehicle through which John expressed his idea of Christ, thereby rectifying all other notions of " the Word." Again, it is in the highest degree improbable that Justin should say as much as he ♦ Eusebius, JK ^., iii,, 3, 530 THE FOUR gospels: does of Christ as the Word unless he depended for this doc- ' trine on some authoritative gospel. A single allusion of doubtful meaning to Christ as the Word, in the Apocalypse, is utterly insufficient to account for the phenomena which Justin's writings present. When we find him, then, in connection with remarks on the Logos, distinctly referring to the Memoirs^^ ^ who can honestly doubt that it is John's Gospel which is the source of his doctrine % The terms in which he describes the incarnation differ in form, rather than substance, from those of John ; and our author's argu- ment in this matter is a very frail one. When we come to sin- gle passages, that on regeneration baffles every attempt to con- nect it with any other source than the Fourth Gospel.f Both of the verbal deviations in Justin from the text of the Gos- pel are found in the same passage as quoted by Irengeus and by Eusebius, and both of them are easily explained. The substi- tution of " Ejngdom of Heaven " for " Kingdom of God " is an inaccuracy of frequent occurrence in citing this passage. In this way, as Prof. Abbot has pointed out, Jeremy Taylor quotes the passage.:]: The differences in the passage as quoted in the Clementine Homilies and by Justin are as marked as are the points of resemblance. Moreover, Hilgenf eld and Yolkmar concede that the author of the Clementines quotes from John. The endeavor of Supernatural Religion to show the contrary — even in reference to the story of the man born blind § — is a desperate attempt to disprove what is patent to every unbiased scholar. There is no known source to which the account of this miracle can be referred, except the Fourth Gospel. When the concluding portion of the Homilies was issued by Dressel, containing unmistakable references fo John's Gospel, the whole enterprise of tracing Justin's quotation on the new birth to a lost gospel suffered *DiaZ.,c. 105. \Apoli.,Q\. X See Am. ed. of Smith's Bible Diet., Art. Jolm, Gospel of . %Hom. xix.,22. A REVIEW OF SUPERNATURAL RELIGION. 531 shipwreck. In his desire to weaken the force of the proof derived from the Clementine Homilies, the author would make the date of the work as late as possible. But the later he makes it, the more improbable is his hypothesis that these passages, which are in the characteristic stjle of John, are quotations from some other book. We must pass over the writer's effort to show that Yalen- tinus, Marcion, and other teachers, heretical and orthodox, were not acquainted with the Fourth Gospel. He is obliged, in respect to Marcion and Valentine, for example, to contra- dict, by an arbitrary dictum, the explicit assertions of the ecclesiastical writers who w^ere in a position to know the truth. All the evidence, external and internal, goes to show that the Fourth Gospel preceded the Yalentinian heresy. If it be supposed, as this waiter would have us think, that the Fourth Gospel was used not by Yalentinus and Easilides themselves, but by their disciples and followers — by " the school " of Yalentinus and by " the school " of Basilides — what is the result ? Why, we are driven to the conclusion that in the very heat and ferment of the great Gnostic con- troversy, this new Gospel appeared, was accepted by both antagonistic parties as an authority, was referred to by each and interpreted by each in his own manner — all uniting in ascribing it to John ! Is any marvel that is narrated in the Gospel itself greater than such a fact would be ? A new Gospel, distinguished from the gospels already in use by striking peculiarities, pronouncing upon doctrinal points of the highest interest and moment to the two contending par- ties, is composed by some unknown writer, but is accepted at once, without hesitation, and without suspicion, by both ! We wish especially to call the attention of our readers to this writer's disposition of the testimony of Irenseus. This testimony is of so convincing a character that the only pos- sible mode of turning the edge of it is by an assault upon the intelligence of the witness. Accordingly, Irenaeus is pronounced so wholly uncritical as to be absolutely unworthy 532 THE FOUR GOSPELS I of confidence. That tliis father sometimes errs we admit. An example, and the most striking example, is his idea respecting the long ministry of Jesus, which he accepted from others, of course without a critical attention to the data afforded bj the Gospels. He is sometimes fanciful in his reasoning, as are Augustine and most of the patristic writers. IS^evertheless, he was a man of more than ordinary talentsj practical, sober in his judgments, and conscientious. That he was careless as to accepting spurious documents is a false accusation. It is one of his own charges against the Gnostics that they alter the gospels, and frame new gospels for themselves. In short, he is an unexceptionable witness on the question before us. Now, Irenseus, in his youth, knew Polycarp, a pupil of John. He remembered how Polycarp discoursed of the Apostle John. He had also known other presbyters in Asia Minor who had been acquainted with the same apostle. Irengeus gives the most decisive testimony to the genuineness of the Fourth Gospel. So established is he in his faith in the four as the only authentic gospels that he appeals, in a fanciful way, to cosmical and other analogies to show that there must be four and only four. Strange to say, this conceit is referred to by sceptical writers, including the author before us, to discredit Irenseus's testimony. If Irenseus had been first led to believe in the four by the fact of there being four winds, and four quarters of the globe, there might be some force in the objection. But everybody who reads him knows that the ground of his faith in the Four Gospels is the testimony of the churches and of " the elders." To this, he explicitly refers his readers ; and these fanciful analogies indicate not at all the source, but only the strength and settled character of his reliance upon the Four Gospels of the Canon as the sole authentic sources of knowl- edge respecting Jesus. The chronological position of Ire- naeus, whose active life covered the last forty years of the second century, his intimate acquaintance with the churches in the East, as well as in the West, and his separation by A REVIEW OF SUPERNATURAL RELIGION. 633 only a single link from the Apostle John himself, give to his testimony an irresistible weight. There are several references in the writings of Irenaeus to his acquaintance with Polycarp. From the most copious of these, his letter to Florinus, who had joined the Yalentini- ans, we copy this extract : *' Those opinions, Florinus, that I may speak in mild terms, are not of sound doctrine ; those opinions are not in agreement with the church, and involve those who adopt them in the deepest impiety ; those opinions not even the heretics outside of the church have ever ventured to broach ; those opinions the elders who were before us, who were the pupils of the apostles, did not deliver to you. For, while I was still a boy, I saw you in Lower Asia, with Polycarp, when you were in a brilliant position in the royal palace and strove to approve yourself to him. For I recall bet- ter what occurred at that time than I do recent events, since what we learned in childhood being united to the soul as it grows up, becomes in- corporated with it, so that I can even describe the place in which the blessed Polycarp used to sit and discourse, his goings out, too, and com- ings in, the manner of his life and the form of his body, and his discourses which he used to deliver to the people, and how he spoke of his familiar intercourse with John and with the rest of those who had heard the Lord, and how he would call to mind their words. And whatever things he had heard from them respecting the Lord, both as to his miracles and his teaching, just as Polycarp had received it from the eye-witnesses of the Word of Life, he recounted it agreeably to the Scriptures. These things, through the mercy of God which was upon me, I diligently heard and treasured them up, not on paper, but in my heart, and I am continually, by the grace of God, revolving these things in my mind ; and I can bear witness belore God that, if that blessed and apostolic elder had ever heard any such thing, he would have cried out and stopped his ears, saying, as he was wont to say : ' Good God ! unto what times hast thou reserved me that I should endure these things ? ' And he would have fled from the very place where, whether sitting or standing, he had heard such words."* This extract will enable the reader to judge of the tone and spirit of Irenseus, and to decide whether it is probable that a gospel having all the peculiarities of the fourth, and differing, as that does, from the synoptics, could have been. * Irenaeus (ed. Stieren) i., 833 seq. 534 THE FOUR GOSPELS I * invented, and silently palmed off on the cliurclies throughout the Roman empire, during the period when Polycarp was in active life and either shortly before or shortly after the personal intercourse of Irenseus with him. The truth is, that the recent adversaries of the genuineness of this gospel have done no sort of justice to the external evidence in its favor. The examination of the internal evidence respecting the authorship of the Fourth Gospel, in the book before us, pre- sents few points that are fresh. We must content ourselves with noticing one of these. Says this writer : * " The author [of the Fourth Gospel] shows in a marked way that he is not a Jew, by making Caiaphas and the chief priests and Pharisees speak of the Jewish nation, and the people not as 6 7ui6PA«» -^^ ■*--tiE T.A.Otn -TK . ^ RETURN CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT TOHJ^ 202 Main Library 642-3403 LOAN PERIOD 1 HOME USE 2 3 4 5 6 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS 1 -month loons may be renewed by calling 642-3405 6-month loons may be recharged by bringing books to Circulation Desk Renewals and recharges may be mode 4 days prior to due dote DUE AS STAMPED BELOW fH^I -- AUG 3 1977 V^ fZZ. CIR.FB 20 78 1 FORM NO. DD 6, 40m, 6-76 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY BERKELEY, CA 94720 YC3D045 ^ 1 87 ir, 4 3j>JB-*vAJ\_ * r , v'A ^"^