/ & *2 & o LIBRARY OF THK UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. Received September., ... ...i 8 8 5 Accessions No. 2-7 *~ c & Shelf No. SO DOCTRINE OF ATONEMENT THE SON OF GOD. r *^ OP 1 THE ^ r TJiriVEESIT7' "We also joy in Gd^tl^hjih^our Lord^ree^C$|rt$|Jfby whom we have now received the atoner St. Paul, BY HENRY SOLLY, MINISTER OF THE ENGLISH PRESBYTERIAN CHAPEL, LANCASTER; AUTHOR OF "GONZAGA DI CAPPONI," THE DEVELOPEMENT OP RELIGIOUS LIFE IN THE MODERN CHRISTIAN CHURCH," "WALTER BERNARD," ETC. LONDON : E. T. WHITFIELD, 178, STRAND, LANCASTER: JOHN RICHARDSON, NEW STREET. 18G1. ■$.??*% TO ONE THROUGH WHOM THE WISE RECEIVE INCREASE OP WISDOM, AND THE TEACHERS ARE TAUGHT ; BY WHOM LONELY SEEKERS AFTER TRUTH ARE ENCOURAGED ; AND THOSE WHO LABOUR, HOWEVER HUMBLY, IN AN EARNEST YET CATHOLIC SPIRIT, POR ITS DIFFUSION ARE WELCOMED AND UPHELD, TO ALEXANDER JOHN SCOTT, A.M., PROFESSOR OF MENTAL ANDTHORAL PHILOSOPHY IN OWENS COLLEGE, MANCHESTER, THIS ESSAY IS INSCRIBED, WITH SINCERE RESPECT AND REGARD, BY HIS OBLIGED FRIEND, THE AUTHOK. >>" C)9 THE ffUIVERSITY TO A. J. SCOTT, ESQ., A.M. My Dear Mb. Scott, I asked leave to connect this Essay with your name, partly that I might thus have the opportunity of expressing- my sense of the value of the services you have long been rendering to thinkers and speakers, and my gratitude to you for the benefit and kindness I have individually received from you ; partly because I feel so profound a respect for the position you have long held in the Church of our common Lord. You left that section of it in which you had been reared, and the ministry to which you were consecrated, remaining to this day in comparative isolation and ministerial inaction, because there were principles which you valued more highly than church-fellowship or clerical usefulness, while no one, I believe, desires both more ardently than yourself. For the coldness, the pride, or the unbrotherly spirit, which, whether in a sect or an individual, rejoices in separation, and delights in opposition, we can feel little respect and less sympathy. But, I think, it is by waiting and working in perfect freedom, as you are doing, for the growth of that higher unity of the spirit, in which alone forms and " ministrations " can really harmonise with the kingdom of Christ, that we shall obtain the true ground for Church organisation and permanent Christian union. I believe you have felt that you could find this freedom at present only by standing outside of all sects, and aloof from all ecclesiastical orga- nisations, at the cost of how great sorrow to yourself few, perhaps* can estimate. Whether you have judged correctly as to the necessity for this course, it is not for me to presume to determine. But to the principle to which you have thus been faithful, I desire to express my unqualified allegiance; and for the faithfulness itself which you have manifested, I may be permitted to offer this humble tribute of admiration and respect. That principle, I apprehend, is the supreme headship of Christ in his own Church, from which results the independence of that Church of all civil government and political combination* VI. (except in the sense of the individuals composing it being mem- bers also of a civil community), and the duty of not imposing the yoke of any theological authority, whether personal, sacramental, or creedal, whether in the shape of bishop, pope, creed or articles, upon the neck of Christian disciples. To his own master each stands or falls. Now, there is[one section of the Christian Church in this country which for 300 years has borne testimony (variably, imperfectly, sometimes even being grossly unfaithful to its high calling, but still more thoroughly, on the whole, than any other sect of which I know*) to the divine Word in the human soul which bids it resist the imposition of that yoke at whatever cost, and in whatever form. During the last two centuries it has wholly abjured the bigotry, and as thoroughly retained the Protestant zeal, courage, and freedom-loving spirit of its Puritan founders. I had the hap- piness of being born and reared in that denomination. I cannot help thinking that, had it been so fortunate as to have numbered you among its children, you would not now be isolated and unable to occupy a Christian pulpit. I know it has for a season been misled into a course which appears to me one of, at least, partial unfaithfulness to its great hereditary principles and trusts, by allow- ing a doctrinal name (which is a creed) to be fixed upon it. But I cannot doubt it is sound at heart, and will, ere long, recover its true position — one in which it can offer to men like yourself a fitting sphere and legitimate home. It is possible, I admit, that, on the other hand, it may wander still further in a mistaken path, till it becomes hopelessly bound * The Independents, whose " piety, wisdom, and valour " can only be spoken of in the highest terms, at the time of the Westminster Assembly and especially during the Commonwealth, " in general appreciation of the principles of religious liberty, were far in advance of the Presbyterians. "f And at the present day they are considerably more zealous in labouring to procure the complete liberation of religion from State interference. But, On the other haDd, since the days of Owen, they have manifested far less reverence for the rights of conscience in theological matters, and have too often established or bent to spiritual tyranny within their own borders, or in Stealing with heretics outside their pale. f " Our English Presbyterian Forefathers," p. 13. TU. in a narrow creedal slavery, shutting its eyes to every ray of light that may not shine from its own reflector, except those, perhaps, glancing from some ignis fatui by which it may be finally lured to destruction. But if the English Presbyterian denomination is thus given over to an ignominious end, assuredly it will be through making its bond of union belief in a Doctrine instead of loyalty to a Person. The principles and position which they so nobly vindicated for themselves and for us their children during the end of the seventeenth and beginning of the eighteenth centuries — viz., the Sufficiency of the Scriptures and the Right of Private Judgment, naturally and happily tended to bring us to union in our common allegiance and affection to the Saviour, while, at the same time, we may each, in amicable charity and mutual forbearance, form, hold, or change our different opinions on the various doctrines which divide the Christian world. Whether this beneficent and beautiful consummation be ultimately attained by English Presbyterians, or whether they will barter the noblest inheritance ever received by any denomination, — the honoured memories of Puritan martyrdoms, and Salter's Hall con- troversies, of the Long Parliament, "Naseby fight," and St. Bartholomew's Day, — or surrender the principles as much nobler than even those memories as the ideal ever soars above the actual — in exchange for a struggle to win the triumph of a doctrine which would be secured far sooner by a return to their rightful name and true position — this will probably be determined during the next twenty or thirty years. A gentleman whose services have been and would be no ordinary blessing to any Church in which he laboured, and whom I am glad to have this opportunity of thank- ing for very valuable suggestions given me while my work was in progress,* has recently retired, as you are aware, from pulpit ministrations among us, under circumstances which necessarily give rise to some anxiety with regard to the future ofrour denomi- nation — whether permanently or not is a question whose answer is, perhaps, somewhat closely linked with the far larger and more important problem of our ecclesiastical destiny. The Great Ruler of the Churches will ere very long show us if our candlestick is to * The Rev. Joseph Henry Hutton, B.A., late of Manchester. be removed out of its place, and our tabernacle given to a worthier Church, or whether we may yet "strengthen the things that remain," and burn with brighter lustre than ever to the glory of the Lord. But in the meantime, how intensely interesting it is to observe the movement going on in another section of the Christian Church in this island, precisely in the opposite direction. The Established Church, so long bound by rigid fetters, is shaken to its centre by the irrepressible desires for a wider theology and a more Catholic organisation which are now agitating the breasts of many of her noblest sons. We cannot wonder at this. There has been a blessed developement of piety and Christian zeal in that Establish- ment during the last thirty years; and in proportion as men become more earnest and devout Christians, they must feel the profound truth of what I once heard her greatest theologian remark: — u The Church has erred in nothing more than in substituting faith in a proposition for faith in a Person." Yet, surely, the Church of England, since the passing of the Act of Uniformity in 168 2 has been in a false and mischievous position. Its band of union has been faith, not in " a " proposition (like the English Presbyterians under their fatal mask of Unitarianism), but in thirty-nine propositions, besides " unfeigned assent and consent " to everything contained in their Book of Common Prayer.* Yet the men whom we so deeply honour as leaders of this " Broad Church " movement, remain as clergymen in the Esta- blishment, without combining to make one great and final effort before quitting it, to obtain the repeal of that most unhappy Act of Uniformity, which, on August 24th, 1662, ejected 2,000 of the worthiest of their predecessors, and our ancestors, adrift on the world to starve. I may be pardoned for expressing my wonder and grief at this spectacle, because it is no less marvellous and sorrowful to you. In proportion as we love and honour these men for their gre&t services and admirable qualities, — the more I indi- *For the mischievous and tyrannical meaning of this declaration, with a view of the light in which it was regarded by the ejected clergymen, see the Life of Clarendon, vol. ii., p. 290 ; Calamy's Life of Baxter, p. 504 ; Non- conformists Memorial, vol. ii., &c. See an able lecture on "The Church and Nonconformists of 1662," by the Rev. D. Mountfield, M.A., incumbent of Oxon, Salop. London : Kent and Co., 1861. vidually feel them raised morally and intellectually far above my- self, — the greater must be our perplexity and regret. Perhaps no higher tribute to their personal character can be given, than by the fact that those of us who most deplore and least comprehend their position, confess our unshaken belief in, and deep respect for, their honesty and conscientious convictions. Yet is it not an example we desire to follow, nor to see our children imitate. It is a temptation from which we would work and pray to shield them. All these various movements in the theological and ecclesiastical world deepen an earnest longing to behold the Act of Uniformity repealed, and the English Church restored to its original and rightful status, so that those who remain in the Establishment may have Christian liberty in an Episcopal Church, and those who leave either that or any other Church in obedience to conscience, may have a fitting sphere, a friendly welcome, and a loving home, in that Free Christian Church which seceded from the Establish- ment in the days of Elizabeth, and was ejected from it in the reign of Charles II. Forgive this disquisition. In offering to the public views on some points at variance with those held by many of my brethren, I wished to remind you and the public of what I remember was once a new and interesting fact to you — viz., that an essential principle of our denomination is, and for 200 years has been, the most thorough Christian liberty, restricted only by that necessity which must always exist for a certain amount of harmony of thought between a minister and his people. I also wanted to contrast this freedom with the condition of those clergymen in the Establishment to whom theology owes so much, but Christian freedom — and, as it seems to us, Christian consistency, — so little. There is not one of them probably but has made great sacrifices, some of them the greatest they could make in their Church ; yet not one of them, I fear, is prepared to do what their predecessors did when the Act of Uniformity was passed, and leave that Church if it be not repealed. There is, however, one among those clergymen towards whom I feel a regard and gratitude for which spoken and still more printed words would be as unfitting as inadequate exponents, — one for whom you also have long felt no ordinary affection and respect, and of whom thousands of Englishmen, workers with head or hand, at this hour would write, if they wrote at all, as I have now written. I feel Mr. Maurice to be my greatest spiritual bene- factor on earth ; and in publishing an Essay, which is little more than a collection and arrangement of other men's thoughts, I wish to express gratitude to him as deep as one human being can offer another. For there is none like that which we feel towards those who confer spiritual blessings upon us, nor for blessings so great as those which many of us feel we owe to him. And when the coldness or hostility of those who should most delight to honour and love him weighs upon his heart, in the darker hours which come to all, it may sometimes be a satisfaction to him to know the blessed work he has been privileged to do among humble and heretical labourers whom, perhaps, he may have little expected to reach. But I wanted also to say all this to you, instead of to him- self, not merely because it is easier to say such things of a man than to him, but because you justify my estimate both of him- self and of his position by your own. Reverence for the principle above referred to, and for the memory of those great men who made English Presbyterianism a protest so glorious, though, of course, imperfect, in behalf of the rights of conscience and the supreme headship of Christ, appear to me, however mistaken I may be, to prevent my sympathising with the course he feels bound to pursue. No such painful sense of inconsistency and opposition alloys the sense of obligation for spiritual benefits received from you. Moreover, I can do you no harm by using the privilege of connecting any production of mine with your name (except the reflection on your judgment implied in permitting the liberty) ; but it would not be so in his case, for as he says in dedicating to you his treatise on the Mediaeval Philosophy, I know " from some painful experience that I may do injury to the reputa- tion of a friend by associating my name with his." But, however that may be, I know also how much more he would value these frank statements of differences from his conscientious convictions, than any amount of insincere acquiescence or unqualified (and, therefore, insincere) homage. It is not meant that we should XI. always understand one another's position and conscience. The difficulty will, of course, be greater in proportion to the magnitude of the questions at stake. Allow me to say a word in excuse .of the presumption manifested in adding another to the long list of works on the Atonement. I know that mine is very imperfect, not merely from the* author's want of ability and strength, but also for want of time to give continuous and concentrated attention alike to its composition and revision. At the best it is simply a contribution towards a work to be executed by some one more fully and happily endowed. But the welfare of men is promoted, not merely by the giant strides and herculean labours of genius, but also by the patient creeping, step by step, of their humbler brethren. And these latter are sometimes necessary to fill up gaps left by greater men. One feels ashamed to be offering you printed publications, nay, to be publish- ing at all, while a fatal fastidiousness and too lofty ideal prevents you from doing so, whence, unhappily, instead of sowing continents with your thoughts, you can but stock a few fields here and there. Society may too late discover its loss in this respect. But, in the meantime, such silences seem to require or permit the babble of lesser minds, and you must take the consequence. Years ago I endeavoured to write in dramatic form that seventh chapter of the Epistle to the Romans (not caring then much about the original chapter), which most of us write dramatically enough, in one form or other, at least once in our lives, with more or less of sorrowful catastrophe. In publishing it, I said I had since learnt, with deep thankfulness, to spell out that gospel which the Apostle next proceeds to celebrate, whereby "man's distracted and divided condition " is reconciled, and he is set at one with his Maker. Then I could not rest till I had tried to write of the mode of deliverance, as well as the way of death, in hopes that, perhaps, some sad "spirits in prison " might be led thereby to turn to the Great Deliverer, and be freed ; in hopes, still more, that some might be saved thereby from entering the prison-house, and abide in the Saviour from the firjst. It seemed to me that, after all which has been done, a great want, at the present day, is a«ch a connected view of " the words of this life " as may meet xu. the needs of young people awakening to questions of deepest im- portance, the requirements of teachers of senior scholars in our Sunday-schools, and of parents and tutors, as well as of seekers after truth torn adrift from their early moorings. Hence there are some parts of the Essay which could have been dispensed with by one person, and other portions by another. " Why introduce this?" and "Why not have left out that?" will be questions, perhaps, recurring often to some readers, while my purpose could not have been otherwise accomplished. Connected views, indeed, of u the scheme of redemption," as it is termed, abound. But it is because I believe in the infinite worth and obligation of the first and great commandment, that I have thought no effort should be spared to establish in their place the " scheme " which I advo- cate in the following pages. Many years ago I was drawn into a public discussion with an intelligent and pious Wesleyan local preacher. The terms in which he worded the question for con- troversy were these : " Whether the blood of Christ is the all- sufficient consideration in consequence of which the. wrath of God is turned away from guilty man when he repents and believes in the efficacy of that consideration?" I saw that this is the belief in which hundreds of thousands of Englishmen live and pray. 1 had studied Wardlaw before. I have read the latest utterance of the same school since. And years have only deepened the intensity of my desire to help to replace this belief by one more Scriptural and devout. But it is not only from these quarters that a demand arises for this higher faith. Without rational and consistent interpretations of Scripture, men of education will lose their interest in its teach- ings, and flee to another gospel more in harmony, as they conceive, with their nobler instincts. I cannot help thinking, even from some extracts which I have just seen from the second edition of Mr. Jowett's " Essay on the Atonement," that endeavours to unfold, however feebly, the views contained in this Essay were never more urgently needed than at the present day, lest the revelations God has given us in the Bible lose their hold even upon devout and thoughtful minds of the highest order. Yet if the Bible be a gift from God, though bestowed like many other gifts, — coal, iron, steam, the broad earth itself, — in a state requiring human Xlll. labour to make it fully available and perfect, its declarations and lessons will surely all be found in harmony with reason and conscience the more these are enlightened, — with every advance of thought and piety in spirit and form. To you, of all men, I may venture to say this, — and to those whose privilege it has been to listen to your free lectures in Owens College. But the agitation arising from the "Essays and Reviews," as well as their publication, is a great fact. It reminds us of another truth which I know you will greet with a welcome, especially necessary to be enforced at the present day, and on the threshold of a theological Essay — viz., that we need those who a differ from us, and cannot do without our opponents. No one having obtained absolute truth, but each earnest seeker possessing some portion of it, one supplements the other. Yet greater fulness of truth is to be obtained, not by weak or cowardly attempts at compromise, meeting half-way with insincere show of agreement, but by each seeking the more distant point in which the lines of their respective thoughts when fairly produced will inevitably meet. That point is the centre of a circle where he dwells who is the Divine Word of truth, "the Truth" and "the Life," waiting for his disciples to join him there as they advance along the various radii which lead to this common centre, filling them with his spirit as they will receive it, drawing and helping them thither. And thus, if faithful to the end, we shall one day coincide in our views, even with those who now appear diametrically opposed to us, and as we draw nearer to Christ we shall find we approach one another. I have only to add that the reason for an omission, which, looking merely at the table of contents, might surprise some readers — viz., of a special chapter on " Salvation," is that the whole work aims to set forth God's mode of granting salva- tion to His children. The meaning which, I think, should be attached to that significant word, will be apparent from the first, I have also omitted the separate chapter on " Baptism and the Lord's Supper," announced in my prospectus, from fear that the book had already reached all reasonable limits, and from having made several incidental references to those ordinances in connec- XIV. tion with the facts and truths which they symbolise. I have also introduced a few passages in the first and eleventh chapters, from a former work, of a more practical character than the present, on the same subject, and by the suggestive criticisms on which, in the "Prospective Review" for November 1847, I have endeavoured to profit in the present undertaking. And now, my dear Mr. Scott, with sincerest wishes that my present offering were more worth your acceptance, allow me to subscribe myself, Your obliged friend, HENRY SOLLY. Lancaster, May 3rd, 1861. CONTENTS. TAGE i. God ; i II. The Son of God 12 III. Scripture 24 IV. The Holy Spirit 71 V. The Christian Trinity 75 VI. Mankind : 86 VII. The Means of Atonement 99 VIII. The Light of the World 104 IX. Sacrifice 124 X. Sin 132 XL The Manifestation of the Son of God 146 XII. The Kingdom of God 155 XIII. Christ the Mediator 163 XIV. Christ our Eighteousness and our Life 1 69 XV. The Eeason of the Sufferings cf Christ l»04 XVI. The Nature and Conditions of Divine Forgiveness 244 XVII. Christ our Propitiation 2X> XVIII. The Sin, Burnt, and Peace Offerings of the Jews— The Blood of Christ 263 XIX. The Authority and Influence of the Saviour since "he entered into his Glory " 290 Conclusion 343 CHAP. I.— GOD. Aiie name used to denote a Being 01 perrect guuuueca, absolute wisdom, supreme power — a Being who is the original and only source of these qualities, who is the Origin and Sovereign Euler of all things and beings — a Being who is light, and love, and holiness, and truth — a Being who is Himself un- originated, existing from eternity ; whose will is good, and good only ; who freely chooses, and invariably wills all that is good, beautiful, and true, and that alone. Since, then, this Being is at once infinitely wise and perfectly good, the fulfilment of His will and purposes must be the right and best result for every created thing and being to accomplish. Those purposes and that will appear to be fulfilled, and God, therefore, to be glorified, in proportion as every creature attains the highest perfection which it is capable of reaching. Our first inquiry, then, is, "In what does perfection consist?" Now, we may find an answer either in an a priori probability, or by reasoning from what we know and believe concerning the universe and its inhabitants ; or, finally, by seeking for a direct revelation from God. Let us begin with the former course, and accept as true the grand old Platonic thought — the ideal of God is the perfection of everything. There is an antecedent proba- bility that, before the Almighty created anything, He must have had an idea of it such as He desired it should become. This idea, so long as it was unembodied in creation, would be the ideal perfection of the thing in question. And thus we must con- ceive of the whole creation as being present to His view, perfect and complete, before Pie embodied that ideal universe in actual reality. But, since this universe was composed, not of one but of many things, their perfection would consist not merely in their corre- sponding in themselves to His primary thought, but also in their occupying that relation to each other which they held in God's original scheme. In that ideal vision there must un- doubtedly have been one particular place, sphere, or condition, for every thing and being, in which it would be in harmony with all the rest, provided all were occupying their respective spheres at the same time. This follows necessarily from supposing that the idea of the universe, as God conceived it before creation, must have been that of a perfectly harmonious universe — that all the conceptions of the Deity must be in harmony with one another. Every created existence, then, approaches or attains perfection in proportion as it realises in itself God's ideal, and occupies that position in which it is in complete harmony with everything else. Following the second course indicated above, and reasoning from what we behold and learn concerning the universe and its inhabitants, we observe that almost all things' appear capable of improvement, in one way or other, up to a certain point, and in some cases capable of indefinite progress. This improvement consists sometimes in increase of size or power, sometimes in developement of beauty. There is also the improvement of an individual and of a species. Then, again, there is mental, moral, and spiritual progress; and we may say that every thing and being has attained its perfection when it has been improved to the utmost limit it is capable of reaching. But, amid all the bewildering variety of tests of perfection which would thus be forced upon us, we perceive this general principle — that every- thing is improved and approaches perfection in proportion as all its powers and faculties, of whatever kind, are most fully and harmoniously developed — as its nature, whatever that may be, is most completely expanded — when, in short, it is and does the utmost that it is capable of being and doing. 3 But in this view of the subject, as in the other, we must re- member that nothing is entirely isolated in the universe, that everything holds innumerable relations with other existences, and has its own peculiar sphere of being. If it leaves that and intrudes upon another, it so far impedes the developement and limits the improvement of some other existence. But it also checks its own, because its growth depends upon its having a suitable environment ; and if it leaves its own rightful sphere and occupies some other, it must of course be less suitably sur- rounded. Therefore it must not only be fully developed in itself, but must occupy that place in the universe where it is in harmony with all the rest of creation — not intruding, not invaded. But few things and no beings, as far as our knowledge extends, are at once created perfect, or placed immediately in their ideal spheres. All have to grow or struggle towards their perfection with more or less rapidity and success. Thus while the idea of a tree probably existed in the divine mind long ■before it appeared in all the elegance and majesty of its form and verdure (speaking, of course, which we must continually do, as if the laws of time were valid for God), it does not at once arrive at that completeness of existence. Various particles of earth, air, water, are gradually united to the young shoot, until the beautiful whole is perfected. It has gained its perfection when it is a complete embodiment of the idea, and of all the connected relations, existing in the divine mind, — or, in other words, when it has attained its utmost limit of improvement. Even so is it with all other things, obeying the laws of their nature, whether animate or inanimate, rational or animal. It may next be remarked that in reflecting upon the various persons or things which fill the universe in which we are placed, we perceive certain differences and divisions between them whereby they are separated and distinguished from one another. When the Deity creates any being or thing, it becomes an individual existence in consequence of this separation from everything else. It may, therefore, be laid down as a self- evident truth for the next step in this inquiry, that separate individuality is the condition of existence. But the second act of creation, that whereby order, harmony, light, and life are produced out of chaos, is a process of uniting, an act of union,* a making one what before was two, or many. Chaos was a state in which all elements and materials were lying in disorder, uncombined, forming nothing, merely existing, each independent of, unconnected with, the rest. The magni- ficent series of operations, styled pre-eminently creation by the aacred writers, appear to have consisted in combining and uniting the various individual parts to form suitable wholes. The different atoms of matter were arranged by attraction and repulsion to form a planet composed of earth, air, and ocean, even as various planets, with their central sun, were united to form one solar system; while suitable gases combined to form the atmosphere and the waters of the great deep. In like manner the rocks, minerals, and metals of the earth were gradually created by harmonious combination of separated particles in definite proportions. Then arose the beautiful phenomena of the vegetable kingdom. The tree and flower grow into existence by the union of various atoms of the earth, air, and waters, in one complicated fabric. Even so in the animal kingdom. But we find that all things or creatures possessing life, whether vegetable or animal, are endowed with a mysterious power of effecting this union of particles of matter with themselves for the purpose of continuing their own existence, called the power of assimilation. And the phy- siologist explains how the whole process of supporting both vegetable and animal existence is a series of acts of union, a process of uniting different atoms of matter to make one * Union, " Unus" — one. harmonious whole. Next we find that these original atoms are frequently combined in a succession of higher and higher forms. Thus they first combine, perhaps, with a gas, the compound so formed unites with a blade of grass, the grass is incorporated with the body of an animal, and the flesh of the animal assi- milated, finally, with that of man. A precisely analogous process goes forward in the creation and continuance of man's spiritual life. All thought, reasoning, imagination, are acts of uniting various sensations and ideas into single ideas or conceptions ; these again are combined into a higher and wider conception, and so on through all the infinite number of processes of Education by which we learn and know, reason, imagine, and reflect. Thus, then, we observe, that Union is the grand primary law of progress, as Individuality is of existence, that the making one what before was two or many, is the great principle by which the Deity has ordained that all things shall advance to their perfection. These brief glances at general truths conduct us to the leading idea, which may be found to offer a key both to the condition of Humanity, and the plan of human salvation, — namely, that the progress of man from sin and death to holiness and perfec- tion, must be a series of acts of union, a making one what before was two, acts producing Unity in the highest and strictest sense of the term. But to whom or to what must man be united ? With whom or with what must he be made at one ? To answer this question, we must consider the independent, isolated, condition in which everything first commenced its existence. The various things and beings brought into existence, are all under various laws, one of the most important being that which leads them, if they are inanimate, to continue in the state whether of motion or rest in which they are placed by the so- 6 called forces or laws of nature, — in other words, to occupy that position in space which the Divine Will determines at any given time. And again, if they possess life, we find them under a law which impels them to grow towards their perfection by the processes of union and assimilation referred to above. Now, all this struggling and striving on the part of each to maintain its own sphere, or to advance beyond it, necessarily causes strife. For it is evident that in a world like this, where every portion of space is crowded with life and active elements, if things are not in their own place, they will be occupying some sphere for which they are not perfectly adapted, belonging to some other existence ; so that order and harmony will not be found, or must inevitably be disturbed, so long as, unable to rest in positions not intended for them, these various things and beings are groping to find their right place and struggling to dislodge their neighbours. The trees of a young forest grow harmoniously together while only a little above the ground, but not being in- tended to remain in that position, they obey the law of their being, which bids them grow in every direction, and thereby brings them into collision with one another. The vapours and electric fluid of a particular region, acted on by other elements and forces, gather in large accumulations, violently strive for expansion, and in seeking to gain those positions for which the Creator designed them, vehement commotions ensue. Human beings destined to emerge from the childish or savage state of primary nature, grope, struggle, and fight through many thousand years of strife, seeking to attain that condition of har- mony and perfection for which they feel themselves adapted. After a certain time the forest trees no longer interfere with one another's developement ; their growth is stopped. They have attained that position as a forest which the Deity intended. The storm passes away, having accomplished its brief destiny also. The human race — what shall be declared of them? That their course must be measured by ages, and that then they likewise will be found to be making progress towards iiie final consummation of their destiny, — order, harmony, perfection. Thus we learn to regard strife as the indication of growth — progress, more or less rapid, towards perfection ; discord as the fiery baptism of peace ; and evil often as uncompleted good. Not that harmony necessarily follows discord, or that evil is invariably developed into good. But since nothing is created perfect at first — since neither individuals, groups, nor systems. realise (rod's ideal at their first creation, either in themselves, or by occupying exactly those perfect relations to one another in which complete harmony would reign among them, there will necessarily be strife and evil until they have ail gained their appropriate and destined sphere ; that strife, in fact, resulting from their very efforts to gain it. Whether all or part have gained, do, or will gain such a position, is altogether another question, to be discussed, so far as Humanity is concerned, in subsequent chapters. Behold that unsightly pile. What an offence to one's taste, what an obstruction to one's path, what a heap of confusion, what disorderly and conflicting masses of human beings. Patience! It will be the noblest building in the land when finished. The scaffolding removed, the heaps of brick and mortar absorbed, the cart-ruts levelled, the broad path paved, — we should not recognise the spot. Previous disorder was but the preliminary stage through which the work had to pass to perfection, like all other undertakings. But even during that tumultuous period, when apparently confused groups of men hurried hither and thither, crossing, mingling, involved in laby- rinths of materials, — to the eye of the architect all were helping to realise his ideal. Even the disorderly heaps of materials were in their right places there for the time being. Everywhere he beheld harmonious activity pressing forward on plans of regulated adaptation towards the destined end. In this case there is no strife of opposing elements — simply union of 8 forces and materials, blending into one, one magnificent whole, what was before multitudinous and apart. But there is another word also signifying, in its true and original sense, " to make one" what was before divided, much used by our greatest writers in former days, much perverted by dogmatic divines in more recent days, — a word of high and noble importance which we cannot afford to have degraded to a totally different meaning. I mean the word "Atonement."* To at-one, to set at one,t to make at-onement, signifies more than simply to unite. Atonement is a far greater work than that of union, when this last refers to unintelligent objects. It means a union after strife, a reconciliation of opposing parties and hostile forces ; a work as much higher than the mere union of matter or the combination of thoughts, as beings endowed with free will to choose and strive are superior to the beasts of the field. Atonement signifies the bringing previously hostile or divided wills into loving harmony and unity of purpose, — bringing those who before were in relations to each other unfavourable to growth and happiness, opposed to the rule of right and righteousness, into the relative positions intended by the Creator. If we cast our eyes over the history of various epochs in the life of the human race, especially that of the dark and middle ages of modern Europe, we see at first little but discord and strife. After a while, however, progress — carried forward to a great extent through the temporary or permanent union and harmonising reconciliation of opposite or warring wills — is as clearly discernible as in the architectural combination just referred to. But in the human developement we discern the higher process of atonement, the reconciliation of enemies through the renunciation of self-will, — union produced by more or less of self-denial, self-sacrifice, and self-control. Especially * See Trench on the Study of Words ; also, Appendix A. + Acts vii., 26. 9 this is true with regard to man's surrender of self-will to the Divine will. There is, however, one other condition of union which is the highest of all, and which transcends the other two just men- tioned as immeasurably in the blessedness of its results as in the divinity of its nature, — that union, namely, which is a union and harmony of will without previous discord. It is a oneness of purpose, action, feeling, will, arising from the common posses- sion of the spirit of unity, the spirit of God, where self- surrender is only potential, not actual, because there is no opposition, no difference. The grand developements of civilisation, the mighty movements of humanity, originating in or consummated by this common sympathy, and primal consentaneity of purpose, are not to be described, therefore, as the result of atonement; but they are the true offspring, nevertheless, of the law of progress, as ordained and inspired by the one divine and perfect God. Progressive developement, then, towards that state which the Almighty Creator destined as its final end — gradual realisation, amid much imperfection and strife, of that perfect ideal which exists in the mind of Deity respecting everything and being which He has willed into existence — by the union and atone- ment of various and often opposing objects, is the law of the universe. But are we, then, to conclude that the mere fact of union causes progress ? That any combination, however indiscrimi- nate, effects developement? Certainly not. Some processes of union cause corruption and death instead of growth and life. For instance, the various stages of fermentation in the vegetable, and putrefaction in the animal world. The inhalation of a poi- sonous atmosphere by plants or animals, the introduction of hostile troops under the garb of friendly alliance into a peaceful state, may serve to remind us that the work of selection is required. Plants and animals accomplish this by instinct. 10 But man is guided by instinct only in relation to his animal existence, and then often imperfectly. Eeason is given to help and lead him in his higher life, but it often errs. Hence man advances much more slowly towards his perfection than the unintelligent part of creation. To know with what and with whom to unite our being for the unfolding and progress towards perfection of our physical, intellectual, and moral nature, forms the first grand problem of human existence, as the dis- covery of the means for effecting such desirable union constitutes the second. A double evil is caused through the appropriation of one object by another, when the union thereby effected is prejudicial to their onward progress. Not only is positive injury inflicted, greater or less in degree according to the condition of the things or beings thus brought into unnatural alliance, but evidently in many cases, probably in all, some other party or thing suffers privation for want of that which has been mistakenly, compul- sorily, or sinfully appropriated in a different direction. Illus- trations in every department of existence crowd upon us. If a greater portion of blood than is beneficial to the brain be appro- priated by that organ, not only cerebral disease is engendered, but other portions of the system must suffer privation. If the powerful portion of a community appropriate to themselves a larger share of the products of industry than is their just due, not only moral evil is thereby fostered among themselves, but much suffering, privation, and crime, are caused among their weaker brethren. The question then again recurs, what is the nature of the union, what are the objects with which man is to unite, in order to make progress towards the perfection of his being ? We have already stated the general terms in which perfection may be described. To apply this to man, commencing with the view suggested above, let it be granted that there existed in the Divine Mind an idea of a complete and perfect being of 11 human nature, before man was created ; and it follows that man advances towards his perfection just in proportion as he attains to the complete realisation of that divine idea. But when we ask, what is that standard and vision of per- fection towards which God desires that we should strive, — what is the nature of the union or atonement requisite to enable us to reach it, — we find ourselves involved in imaginations and reasonings which to some may seem irreverent and presumptuous. Yet if conducted with a simple, humble desire to learn as much of (rod's will and purposes on the grandest and most important of all subjects, as He in His infinite wisdom and love may see fit to grant in answer to our humble, earnest seeking, there can be neither presumption nor irreverence in such investigations. Their practical value will be found in their serving as the necessary steps towards ascertaining what God has done and revealed for human salvation and perfection, — what He desires us to do and to become. In a spirit, then, of reverence and humility, yet of earnest longing for the truth on subjects of such unspeakable signifi- cance, let us proceed to the next step in our inquiry. CHAP. II.— THE SON OF GOD. The divine ideal of Humanity — how shall we form our own idea concerning it? What may we reverently conceive that divine ideal to be ? Let us carry back our thoughts beyond the limits of time, and suppose that at some period in the depths of a past eternity the Deity willed to bring into existence a being like Himself. We may reverently conceive of Him as reflecting on Himself — or, as it were, beholding Himself by self-consciousness,* and then giving individual existence and life to this idea, reflection, or image, of Himself, which would, in fact, be the divine ideat of the being He desired to bring into existence. But should we not say that to do this was to bring into being a second self, which was previously a part of His own self ? And what is this but to beget a son? If we imagine this reflection of God to be endowed with life and personality, and so becoming a distinct and living being — the perfect image of Himself — we behold a Son of God, His first-born, a being possessed of a distinct will, of self-consciousness and a sense of personal identity, of reason, conscience, affection, of all those spiritual qualities, in short, which constitute the nature of God, combined with those that, in a son, would be the counterpart or complement of the nature of a father, such as reverence, obedi- ence, trust, and filial love. * All this, of course, is mournfully anthropomorphic, but in no other way can we reason on such subjects at all. + The vovs of Plato, and the Aoyos of Philo. 13 This view is given in the writings of Melancthon, in the fol- lowing terms : — * " Logos est imago cogitatione patris genita. Mens humana pingit imaginem rei cogitata?, sed nos non trans- fundimus essentiam in illas imagines. At Pater seternus sese intuens gignit cogitationem sui, quse est imago ipsius, non eva- nescens ut nostra? imagines, sed subsistens communicata ipsius essentia;" (Olsh. Grosp. of St. John, i., 2); and which may be rendered thus : " The Logos, or Word, is the image produced by the Father's thought. The human mind paints an image of something on which it has meditated, but we do not transfuse any being (any real existence) into those images. The Eternal Father, how- ever, reflecting upon Himself, gives birth to His own thought, which is the image of Himself, not evanescent, as our imagi- nations are, but continuing to exist through the being (or essence of Himself) which He has communicated to it." We may compare with the foregoing extract from Melancthon the following interesting passage from Luther's commentary on the Proem (v. 10) : " . . . . If a man thinks Or meditates on something by himself, he has a word or a conversation with himself, of which nobody knows anything but he «lone, until that very word of the heart is put into a verbal word or speech, and the man pronounces aloud what he has thdughtf in his heart, and what he has discussed so long with himself. Then only, and not before, is it heard and understood by others. As St. Paul says to >the Corinthians (1 Cor. ii., 11) : ' For what man knoweth the things of man, save the spirit of man which is in him/ . . . . For a word is not only that which the mouth pro- nounces, but rather the thoughts in the heart, without which the verbal word is not spoken, or if it is spoken it is of no value, except the mouth and heart agree; without this it is worth nothing. Thus also God has from the beginning in His * Quoted by Olshausen and Tholuck in commenting upon the Proem to St. John's Gospel. Jx 14 majesty and godly being a word, a discourse, speeches, or thoughts with Himself in His divine heart, unknown to angels or men. That is His Word which was in His Fatherly heart from the beginning, and through which God resolved to create the heavens and the earth. But no one ever knew of such a will of God until the Word became flesh and told us, as it follows : ' The Son who is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him 'v. 13. According to this picture, God in His majesty and divine nature has a word or discourse which He holds with Himself, and which is the thought of His heart. And it is complete and great and perfect as God Him- self. Nobody can see, hear, or understand such discourse, save He alone. The Word was before all angels and all creatures, for afterwards He gave being to all creatures through that Word or discourse." This does not bring out, so clearly as the extract from Melancthon's speculations, the essential idea that the Word, or Logos, is the communication, revelation, embodi- ment, or manifestation of an inward thought. Nevertheless, it is full of interest and deeply suggestive, as we might expect. In general terms, then, our hypothesis is that God gave life and independent personality to the ideal being* which had pre- viously existed only in His own thought or imagination. If the question were here asked, when we are to suppose this act of the Deity took place, the reply must be that, on the one hand, we can only think of any act as taking place in time, and therefore that there must have been a specific period when this thought of God first became a living being ; but, on the other hand, that we cannot imagine a time when, if God could thus originate such a being, he would not do so. If God is love, He would by His very nature desire to have some being or beings to love. We have no right to argue that, therefore, He neces- * Or, aa Luther would Bay, to the Word. 15 sarihj would beget or create such ;* but certainly it is infinitely the more probable supposition. To think of God as dwelling absolutely alone, is so contrary to our idea of Him as a being whose name is "Love," whose blessedness is in loving and being loved, and as a benevolent being, whose delight is in making others happy and good, that the conception is painful and repulsive. It is far better to say that, though we cannot understand how God can have had a Son from all eternity, there is nothing in that hypothesis to offend our reason or our affec- tions, while there is in the contrary supposition. The idea of eternal sonship, it is true, lies beyond our reason, but does not contradict it. It is simply saying, not that there never was a period when the Son did not exist, but that we cannot imagine such a period, — that we cannot think of God except as a Father, and therefore as always having a Son, — that the attribute of father- hood appears to us as essential a part of His divine nature as the attribute of wisdom or power ; i.e., essential to our notion of God, not as we behold Him in nature, in history, or in the writings called the Old Testament, but as we behold Him in the scriptures of the New Testament, when revealed to us by His Son. It appears of infinite importance that we should accept this as the view of God given us by the Son of God ; but that, at the same time, we should admit it is impossible for us to explain or understand how the Son should have existed from all eternity, any more than we can explain or understand how God Himself can so have existed, or how He created the universe out of nothing. It seems absolutely necessary that the Father should precede the Son, and yet if we conceive of a time when God existed, but not as a Father, this is not only to divest Him, at that time, of His holiest, tenderest, dearest attribute, but above * I do not venture to say with some, that because God is love He mutt have had some being to love from all eternity, because the attribute of love does not, of course, necessarily imply an object for that love, only a desire for it. But how can we conceive of God as having any desire ungratified ? a- ■ J/ 16 all, it is to change our opinion of His nature, — it is to say ta< the fatherly character is not an essential part of His nature. And is not that to inflict an irreparable injury on our thought of God, on our filial love and trust towards Him ? Hence we feel in considering this question that we have got beyond that sphere in which the laws of time are valid, and are reminded of the great truth that they, like the laws of space, are only conditions of human thought j that to refer to them in speaking of what took place before the creation of the human race, is only an accommodation to our present limited conceptions, and must, as far as possible, be avoided. We must not, therefore, speak of any particular period when it seemed good to the Supreme Being to bring into existence a being like to Himself. We are now simply to realise the hypothesis that He did thus will, — and must remember that we are concerned merely with that hypothesis and the supposed result. We have only to say that far back (as the idea presents itself to our thought), in the ages of eternity, the Son dwelt in the bosom of the Father, and that we do not presume to think of any limits to his existing thus, nor to conceive of a time when God was not a Father. Now, as I have just said, the being whom, according to our hypothesis, the Almighty thus brought into existence, must evidently have been of the same nature as God. That is, since we suppose Him to be " the brightness of God's glory, and the express image* of His person." He must possess those faculties and capacities which God possesses, and which, according to the only way in which we can conceive of spiritual, intelligent, and moral beings, must constitute the nature of any or every intel- ligent and moral agent, — viz., in general terms, reason, con- science, affection, will. This much will be admitted by all. But there is another fact of equal importance that results from the * Heb. i., 3. X a P aKTr ]P' Tne i**"&ge or impression taken by wax from a seal. 17 supposition of such a being proceeding forth from God as a Son, and not merely being created, — viz., that he must be " consub- stantial," or of the same substance as God.* "We seem obliged to use this much misunderstood word, substance, because, although it has been perverted in modern times from its original meaning, there is no other word so fitting to express the conviction that the Son did come forth from God, and therefore necessarily partakes of the essence of his Father, of that which constitutes the essential reality and being of God. It was the word in constant use for this purpose among the early fathers of the Church, and even if we look merely at its modern materialistic sense, it still remains the most appropriate phrase for figuratively conveying our meaning, inasmuch as we can only describe spiritual relations by material images. Now, if the Son of God were not of the same substance, but only of the same nature as God, he would not be really, but only figuratively, His Son, created but not begotten. The difference may be briefly illustrated thus. A son exists poten- tially, and in a certain, sense actually, in his father, is part of his being, whether begotten or not. Therefore, in bringing a son into existence, a father imparts himself to that son. A creature does not exist in any sense or to any degree, poten- tially or otherwise, in its creator — is not part, never has been part of him who creates or makes it. God could create beings of the same nature as Himself, but they would not therefore be His children. But if He gives Himself to this being whom He wills to bring into existence, then it is truly and properly His Son. We never think of that which is made or created as being a part of its creator, as coming forth from him. It might, of course, have been possible for the Creator to have enabled us to make beings of our own nature and substance as *8ub-sta7is, that which stands under the outward appearance and con- stitutes the reality. C 18 we make houses, but He has not given us any analogies by which we can conceive of such a process. The words, " be- gotten, not made," express to us an absolute and essential difference. Hence, if God reveals Himself as " the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ," we necessarily understand (if we are true to the right use of language) that this Son of God came into existence, not as a creature made and fashioned ah extra in relation to God, but as one proceeding forth from Him, ema- nating from the Divine Substance, from the very essence and reality of the Godhead. In a word, if God gave being to a Son, He imparted Himself to the being whom He thus brought into existence, and that being is therefore essentially Divine. It may be urged that the expression, " Son of God," if it be used as explaining the relationship of these two beings, must be figurative, referring simply to the filial character and spirit of the person thus described, not to the mode in which he came into being, and that in the earthly relationship there is a human mother as well as father. It is a figurative expression. But, I believe, the reality is in the previous and higher relationship of the Divine Father to the Divine Son ; that the earthly relationship is but a dim im- perfect type or figure of that higher and more perfect reality. Does it not seem far more probable that God should institute an earthly relationship to explain a heavenly reality, than that He should take an earthly fact to which there is nothing correspond- ing in any heavenly reality in order to explain or reveal the relationship between Himself and another being ? This would, indeed, be to mislead us by a false analogy. If the reiterated and emphatic declaration made by writers who profess to record a revelation from heaven, is that the being of whom they write, whose manifestation in this world they proclaim as glad tidings to all people, was the Son of God, surely it is more reasonable to suppose that they mean, or ought to mean, something more 19 than that this being had the feelings and disposition of a son towards God without really being His Son. All filial dispositions, rights, and duties in this world, grow out of a certain definite relation of one being to another, — viz., that by which the second being was a part of the first, and came into existence by the will of the first. These dispositions, rights, and duties do not, and cannot, exist except by virtue of that relation. And are we to be told that in the most solemn transaction that can take place between God and His people, that in which He reveals to them a Saviour, manifesting Himself and declaring His will through that Saviour as a Father, He uses an expression of so sublime a nature, referring to a relationship so unspeakably holy and awful, yet in a sense from which all that could justify its use is cut away, leaving it a mere figure of speech, without any basis of reality to warrant its employment, or to explain the existence of those filial feelings and dispositions which are thus supposed to constitute the whole of its meaning? Of course, any material emblem must needs be but a very imperfect representation of spiritual realities. But just as a parable is not intended to teach us all truth, nor to teach a hidden truth in every part of it, so neither are the earthly emblems which God has given to us. We must not expect to find the earthly relations of parents and children to be an exact analogue or counterpart of the spiritual relation, but simply teaching, at all events, two great truths, — viz., first, that a child is of the same substance and nature as its father in a sense and in a way which a mere creature is not and cannot be ; and, secondly, that the deepest, tenderest, holiest affection is naturally felt for a child by its parent. But with regard to the fact that in the earthly type of this filial relationship there are two parents, do we not obtain a glimpse into the wonderful mystery by considering how many things point to a primal unity of sex in God ; how the distinc- tion of man and woman seems to be a mere earthly and tem- 20 porary division which will one day be abolished, when we shall be received into perfect communion with God, and are wholly renewed in His nature; how our blessed Lord himself united in his character all that is noblest and loveliest both in the mascu- line and feminine types of human excellence ; how his apostle declared that " in Christ Jesus there is neither Jew nor Greek, neither bond nor free, neither male nor female." (Gal. hi., 28.) Is there not also a glorious hint of this primal unity in the divine nature, and therefore in ours, afforded to us by the material and spiritual oneness of husband and wife, where there exists a true marriage, a marriage of heart and soul ? — a relation in which God seems leading us to believe in this holy unity of spiritual being, lifting our thoughts to that oneness, both of nature and of affection, which shall be fully manifested in the blessed con- summation towards which all things are tending, in a brighter, holier world, where effort, sorrow, and pain will be seen to have accomplishod their divine work in our souls, where "they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels of God in heaven." (Matth. xxii., 30.) But there is another conclusion, no less important, which flows necessarily from the last, — viz., that the Divine Son, after he is begotten, remains still a part of God, continues to be of one substance with the Father, one with Him in the Eternal Godhead. For if the Son possess the same nature and the same spirit as His Father, is it not clear that he will have perfect sympathy with Him, perfect harmony of will and thought, of feeling and purpose ? Is not this, in fact, what we mean when, in regard to any particular case, we say that such a person showed the same spirit as another? But to have this entire sympathy and perfect harmony with another being, to share his thoughts and feelings, to have a common will and purpose, is precisely what constitutes spiritual oneness between two persons. This is just the idea we have when we assert the proposition that the Son is one with the Father, a part of His Father's being — 21 so for, at least, as we have a spiritual deceiving ourselves by dwelling on material follows necessarily that since the Son is of the same" or spirit with God, we must not think of him as in any sense or way separated from God, but as dwelling always in closest union and communion with Him, in absolute spiritual oneness with Him ; therefore as much a part of God after he was begotten as before, living in Him and by Him, living His life, aiming at his Father's purposes, thinking His thoughts, loving what the Father loves, filled with His spirit, dwelling " in the bosom of the Father." This idea, also, was included under that much controverted term, spoken of above, " consubstantial ;" and the continued indwelling of the Father in the Son was contended for by the Nicene theologians as strenuously as the proposition that our divine Lord's origin was from the substance or essence of God. But while we cannot, in our present condition, understand the meaning of spiritual union and oneness, except as signifying this intense and perfect sympathy, this entire communion of thought, feeling, and will, it is important to remember that doubtless there is far more in such union than we can thus represent or conceive, — something to which material union is analogous, and which that is intended dimly to shadow forth. Thus, for instance, we distinguish the vital or chemical combination of different substances forming one body from the mere mechanical juxta position of different atoms of matter; the union of an acid and an alkali to form a salt is distinguished from a mere solu- tion of salt in water ; and the union of a branch with the parent stem, as opposed to the mere proximity of two pieces of wood nailed together. It is, of course, not possible to draw a hard line in all such cases between combinations that form one new body and those that merely present two substances in close proximity. But in the case of living bodies it is very easy to define this oneness of parts. Even in chemical combinations it 22 is evident that when a new substance is formed by union of several elements all its parts come under the same conditions, are similarly affected by similar influences, possess the same qualities, exercise the same functions. But in addition to these tests, in the case of living bodies, we may say that a branch is part of the vine, of one substance with it, a portion of the same body, when it is so united to the rest of the tree as to live in and by the same life, when the same life-giving sap circulates through it which sustains the life of the whole. In like manner, the limb is a part of the human body, one with it, so long as it is nourished by the common blood and partakes of the common life. If, guided by these teachings of the external world, we endeavour to comprehend spiritual truths, we are brought to the conclusions stated above, and we see how the union of soul with soul, of spiritual beings, implies their sharing, as far as may be, each other's thoughts, feelings, and attributes, — that is, living in and by each other's life, — how it implies, especially, that they draw that life from a common source, and therefore are pene- trated by profoundest sympathy with each other. All this we can understand to be involved in the idea of the perfect oneness of the Son with the Father. &**£. Hence we recognise the justice of the memorable claim which demanded that the Son should be declared to be not of like essence or substance (6//otovcrtos), but of the same essence or substance (o/noo-uo-tos) with the Father, " consubstantial." There is an essential and infinitely important distinction, as I have said, between the ideas which these two phrases respec- tively represent. Any other man's son is of like substance with my own child. It is my own offspring alone that is of the same substance. Both children are of the same nature, but not of the same substance. And if the derived being of whom we are speaking be indeed the Son of God, ofioovcrios was the only fitting term to describe the reality of that connection and relation. 23 And by thus understanding the word "substance," and always bearing in mind that " God is a Spirit," we avoid that rock of stumbling which caused the Arian bishops of the fourth century to complain that the word consubstantial implied that God was corporeal and had been divided. The objection never would have been made had they understood the word substance in its true and original sense, as signifying simply that which constitutes the real being and essence of God, which of course is wholly spiritual, and must not be spoken of as if it came under the laws of matter. But we see that even a material substance may impart itself without being divided or suffering loss, as when one flame kindles another, and the two continue burning together, — united and consubstantial, though one has been derived from the other.* These, then, are the speculative conclusions on which I ven- ture to arrive in reference to the nature of the Son of God, if there exist such a being at all, — viz., that he must be of the same substance or spirit with God ; — that in whatever consti- tutes God he shares ; — that he is a partaker of the Divinity (S-eorifs) of the Godhead of God, living in and by the Father ; — that as a Son begotten he must necessarily be subordinate to the Father who begat him, but superior to every creature, and, as the First-born, superior to any subsequent child of God, though such would be his brethren ; — that his Father must be the supreme and only God ; that he must be wholly dependent on his Father, but that whatever limitations he must be sub- ject to as a being proceeding forth from God, whatever outward manifestation he may assume, in whatever form he may be clothed, he must be of the same nature, and of the same essence, as that which constitutes the being of the Eternal Deity. * It is a pity that this illustration did not occur to Constantine when he was so grievously disappointed by the Bishop of Nicomedia's symbolical reference to his garment. — See " Priestley's Hist. Christian Church;" Period vii., Sect. 6. CHAP. IV.— SCRIPTUKE. But have we been left to rest upon uncertain conjectures, on & priori or inductive reasoning, or merely on definite proba- bilities in so deeply important a matter ? Has not God given us some full and explicit revelations of the truth ? Once in the course of bygone ages a Divine Man appeared in this world, who claimed to be the Son of God, to have come from God, and to be returning to God. He declared to men the relation in which they stood to his Father — what they ought to do and to become — how they also were children of God, and were to receive their sonship in due season. He claimed authority over them both to teach and to govern them. He declared that he came with the will and the power to save mankind from sin and death, and to bring to God and heaven all who would trust and obey him. His visible manifestation in this world was by no means the first commencement of a revelation of God's will and power, only the continuation and climax thereof. His coming was the fulfilment of promise and prophecy. The kingdom which he said he came to establish had been revealed and set up on earth, as well as in heaven, ages before. Brave and faithful men had known of it, fought and suffered for it, — had known of the invisible God and King who rules it, and "had endured as seeing Him who is invisible." The record of this Divine man's advent to earth, and of his existence here in the body, with some of the results that followed, has been preserved in certain books called the New Testament, even as the record of God's previous revelations and dealings with man are to be found in the Old Testament. We are not given such a statement in the documents composing those books as necessarily precludes all differences of opinion, or all exertion 25 of our own faculties to discover the truth, any more than we have the treasures of earth or truths of science so laid open before us, as to preclude the necessity of human skill and labour to discover and use them. But as in nature and in the whole course of providence, so also in the Bible histories, certain great facts are found to have taken place. They are recorded in those histories, and a few comments upon them given. From their united teaching, which (as all these facts alike come to pass either by God's permission or direction) must mutually illustrate each other, we have humbly and prayerfully to endeavour to learn what God is thus pleased to reveal, and by the help of His holy spirit seek to be guided "into all truth." I do not now propose to examine the evidence for the claims which the Bible puts forth upon our faith, but, considering how thoroughly that work has already been done, I wish simply to receive the statements made there as true, and to see what they teach us. If, as it has been truly said, they came from God, they can vindicate their own divine origin to the candid mind. Our present business is to see what light they throw on the great questions which we have hitherto been considering in the light of reason and natural analogies, and thereby, I hope, preparing for the more satisfactory understanding of the Holy Scriptures themselves. We may proceed, then, to consider those passages of the Scriptures which bear upon this great topic. I shall examine them very briefly, suggesting considerations rather than attempt- ing an exhaustive analysis, not merely because there would be little chance of such an analysis being read except by a very few (even if made by a far more competent critic), but also because the subject of this essay being the work of Christ in atoning man with God, it treats of the Saviour's nature and his relations to God only indirectly, and as bearing upon that main topic. 28 In the introduction to St. John's Gospel, then, we find the following delaration made respecting the origin of that remark- able person who, according to Roman as well as Jewish histo- rians, appeared in this world some eighteen centuries ago. "In the beginning was the "Word." This announcement seems to point to some definite period when the Word began to exist, because there could have been no beginning to eternity. St. John does not say " The Word was from all eternity," but " It was in the beginning." As if he would carry back our thoughts to some remote period in the abyss of a past eternity, but still would declare a beginning. Now, as this expression is used at the commencement of the book of Genesis by Moses to signify the period of creation ; in the same sense by Solomon in his sublime description of Wisdom or the Word (Logos), Prov. viii., 22; and also by our Lord when referring to the creation of man (Matt, xix., 4), there is some probability that when St. John is commencing his history of Jesus the Son of God, he uses the word with a similar meaning. It seems in conformity also with the general prin- ciple of the Bible histories that the record in question should commence in the period at which God's power and love were first manifested in relation to the beings whom He created in His own image, and for whose benefit these histories were pre- served. Other cosmogonies go back into the far depths of eternity, and profess to give us the relation of matters transacted ages before men were born into this world. But the Bible records all cluster round humanity, and God in His relations to mankind. It would be contrary to the whole spirit of the Scriptures generally, and of St. John's writings especially, to suppose he refers to any beginning before that spoken of in the first chapter of Genesis. But these considerations are equally strong against the sup- position that the apostle meant the beginning of the Christian dispensation j and in his first epistle (iii. c, 8 v.) he shows t M 27 plainly in what sense he uses the word, " The devil sinneth from beginning." Certainly the apostle did not mean " from the be- ginning of the Christian dispensation." But is it not a sound rule of criticism, to interpret doubtful passages by those that are clear? It has been argued, indeed, that the way in which the word is used in other parts of St. John's epistles shows that he must have intended us to understand him as referring to the more recent period. For instance, 1st John ii., 7-24, iii. 11, 2nd John, 6, where it is written, " The commandment which ye had from the beginning," "That which ye have heard from the beginning," &c. ; and whence some argue that the apostle must refer only to the people then living, and to whom he was writing. But is it not quite possible that he is addressing his brethren as members of the great human family — the divine society which God had established on the earth, and to whom from the beginning, from their first creation, He had given the commandment to love one another, writing His law in their hearts, in the very constitution of their nature. The words " Not as Cain " seem to confirm this view. He disobeyed this great law given to him, given " from the beginning." Our Lord, indeed, calls it "a new commandment" (John xiii., 34), but the context shows that he only meant it was to be viewed anew in the light of his own illustration of it — in the light of his own love for his disciples. In the same way St. John speaks* as if it might be regarded, not only as an old commandment given from the begin- ning, but as a new one also from the new light it has gained since Christ's death. Then, again, there seems no sufficient reason for understanding the third verse of the Proem to mean the new and spiritual creation of the Christian era. There is nothing in the connection to lead to that supposition. Still more difficult is it to account on that theory for the fourteenth * 1st John ii., 8. 28 verse. The work attributed to the Word, in the third verse, is clearly anterior to his taking flesh, even as the Word is mani- festly declared to have existed before he was made flesh. The words, therefore, " In the beginning," must signify " When God first manifested forth Himself" — first communicated Himself, His thought, wisdom, power, love. But what was the Word? Not an audible voice, surely. Nor yet merely any abstract quality, such as power, wisdom, goodness. For these, before they are exerted jn outward acts or manifestations, would be described as thoughts rather than as words.* A word is an outward manifestation of a thought. Hence we are led to conceive that by " the Word " St. John described God's "revealed thought," a thought in some way outwardly em- bodied or manifested. But if God were alone in the universe — before any other being was brought into existence, before ever anything was created — this outward embodiment could only be the revelation or representation of His thought to Himself, His own consciousness of it, and reflection upon it. Is not this idea conveyed to us by the next sentence, " And the Word was with God ?" Since the Greek 71730s, " with," in this con- nection, conveys the idea of residing in, as a part of, or belonging to, we learn that this realised, embodied thought of God was still a part of God, united with Him, as a portion of His substance, essence, being. Our next inquiry must be what was this thought of God to which existence was thus given? The succeeding clause throws a flood of light on the great theme. "The Word was God." And thus we are shown the divine nature of this realised thought of God. It must have been the manifested thought of Himself. His own self-consciousness brought into individual existence. The Word was God's reflection of Himself — God representing Himself, * The " Word " is never used in Scripture to signify an attribute of 'God, nor the divine reason, or mind. In classic authors, also, Aoyos never signifies the subjective faculty of reason, but the reason of anything to be given objectively. (See Alford, Gr. Test, in loc.) 29 His own divine nature and perfections, unto Himself. Surely Melancthon's conception expressed above exactly corresponds with this declaration. But how can it be said that this Word was God ? The self- consciousness of God is necessarily in a most important sense different from God, as is indicated by the phrase " The Word was with God." If it was God Himself it could not be said to be with Him. And it is also evident that both the thought and the word of God must be distinguished from God Himself, or all meaning in language is lost, and we can retain no idea of a personal God. And here we are brought to the shore of a vast truth, too deep for the plummet of earthly reason ; but one," nevertheless, from which even in this world we can gain some great and blessed thoughts, full of power to redeem and glorify our being, intimately blended with the very essence of " the glorious gospel of the blessed God." We find a clue to the mystery in the tenth chapter of this gospel, 34th, 35th, and 36th verses. " Jesus answered them, is it not written in your law, I said, ye are gods? If he called them gods, unto whom the word of God came, (and the scripture cannot be broken), say ye of him whom the Father hath sanctified, and sent into the world, Thou blasphemest ; because I said, I am the Son of God ?" These words evidently point to the truth that God communi- cates Himself in various ways to inferior beings, and that in consequence of such divine communication they become more or less divine. They become gods in some lower sense of that word. God imparts Himself to some other being, who is then called in the Old Testament " a god." The distinction between the one supreme God and these recipients of divinity is much more strongly marked in the original Hebrew than either in the Greek or English language. In the Greek, we find it signified by the word S-eos for a god, and 6 S-eos for the supreme God ; 30 in the English Scriptures, by the indefinite article and the small g, "a god" or " gods." In the Hebrew, after Genesis, "Jehovah" and "Elohim," &c. It is not intended, of course, to assert that the mere omission of the article in and by itself in the first verse of St. John's Gospel, proves that the word S-eos is there used in the lower sense, but that the omission in connection with the preceding clause, "the Word was with God," necessarily does. In that clause the article is used. Common sense tells us that if the Word is said in one clause to be with God, and in another, close to it, to be God, the word God must be used in somewhat a different sense in the two passages. St. John points out what the difference is by dropping the article, and our Saviour com- pletes the proof by telling us in what sense beings inferior to God might be, and in the Hebrew tongue were, called god, — viz., when divinity is communicated to them. It may, of course, be communicated in various ways and in different degrees. The prophets and rulers spoken of by Christ received communications of divinity by the Word of God coming to them. But the original Word spoken by God in the beginning, this primary manifestation or expression of God, became a Divine Person, became a god in this sense, through his being "the express image,"* the realised likeness of God communicated to or pro- jected on outward existence, as the reflection of the human countenance may be cast on the photographer's metal plate. And this Divine Word, therefore, was the " Only-begotten Son of God," who, " when the fulness of the time was come," was manifested " in the flesh," " full of grace and truth." God is ever communicating Himself, giving Himself forth, as it were, in creation, because creation is the reflection and result * The original is the very word, as I have previously remarked, used to signify the impression taken from a seal ; but the wonderful discovery of pho- tography illustrates this verse and the whole idea under consideration in a far more complete and striking manner, because the likeness in this case comes direct from the original by a simple look, and remains permanently. 31 of His attributes. But it is manifest that the Word is said by St. John to be God in a far higher sense than can be predicated of any other being or thing. The Word was filled with God, because it was God's thought of Himself, and this must be " the fulness of the Godhead," — he must be filled with God in a way and to an extent that no other being or thing could be. For God could only have one thought of Himself — one self-conscious- ness. As He is one, so the reflection or image of Himself must be one. It is, in fact, the reproduction of Himself, of His own glorious being, by communicating Himself in an embodied thought ; hence, as I said, the being thus brought into existence is called His Son. When, therefore, St. John announces that the Word was God, we understand that this embodied idea, this Divine Son, was indeed "the brightness of God's glory and the express image of His person " (Heb. i., 3) — the outward expression of God's inward thought, the reflection of Himself in a new existence, realised in a second person, a second self. The sacred writer then brings before us again the all-important thought that the Word was a part of God, that though a new dis- tinct personal existence, he was still united with God, of one spiritual substance with Him, soul with soul, spirit with spirit, in holy unity and union.* And doubtless in thus dwelling upon the companion- ship of the Word with God, St. John designed to indicate the holy and blessed fellowship that existed between the Father and the Son, and without which, indeed, it is hard to conceive at all, as I said before, of Him whose name is love.t These, again, are * " Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father in me." John xiv. 11. + There have been various attempts to show that the Word, as thus spoken of in this Proem, should be viewed as impersonal. And no doubt in all the English translations previous to the Common version, the neuter pronoun was used in reference to the Logos — " all things were made by it" &c. — while other languages, including the original Greek, afford us no clue to the answer, because the gender of Aoyos, verbum, &c, determine the gender of the pronouns. But the declaration that " the Word was witb God, and the Word was God," seems to me conclusive on this point. For 32 heights and depths of thought into which we cannot venture ; but as the idea of God dwelling utterly alone, without com- panionship of any kind, without any intelligent being of like nature with His own to love, is insupportably painful, so the sacred writer appears to give us just a glimpse into the mystery to satisfy, not our intellect, but our heart, until that time when * we shall know even as we are known." Till then we must remember, as before remarked, that time, like space, has nothing to do with God. By these first and second verses, then, in St. John's Gospel, the divine nature and origin of the Word is declared, and at the same time the Neo-Platonic errors con- cerning the Logos are opposed. In the third verse the solemn truth is announced that all things came into existence by means of this Word. And this brings us to a consideration of considerable weight against the notion of the impersonality of " the Word," which has been thus ably urged. If the creation be by a word (not person), is not the person uttering the word the real creator ? It is mere verbiage to call the Word, if simply a word, an instrument in creation. Either the Word meant an indwelling person or Son, or it meant nothing beyond the voice of God. In I cannot see how, in any scriptural sense, a thing can be spoken of as being •j-cos, " God." In the eleventh verse, moreover, the Word is plainly spoken of as a person. Common sense, to say nothing of other arguments, seems decisively against supposing that the Evangelist intended us to read here—" It came unto its own, and its own received it not." Things cannot hold property, or claim intelligent beings as their own, except in highly poetical personification, which would surely have been the last thing the sacred writer would have resorted to in so solemn, nay, awful a task, as was being here performed by him. And if the Word is a person in the eleventh verse, there is nothing to indicate any change of nature from that set forth in the first verse. It is quite true that we can conceive of a time before which the divine thought was not realised in a living person ; but I do not understand how at such a period that thought could be spoken of as the Logos, the Word, for, as I said before, this surely, by all but universal consent, means the embodied, realised, manifested thought. 33 which, case, it is certainly hard to see how St. John could assign to it such a lofty place in the creation and subsequent conduct of the world and of mankind." " All tilings were made by Him." The next clause ex- cludes the gnostic heresy of the independent and eternal existence of matter, which they viewed as the source of all evil. "And without Him was not anything made." The three last words of this verse should be joined with the first of the fourth verse,* and then they would explain the whole thus, " That which came into existence in, by, or through the Word was Life." Even so in 1 John i., 1, 2, he speaks of the "Word of Life" ["which was from the beginning"], "for the life was manifested, and we have seen it, and bear witness, and show imto you that Eternal Life, which was with the Father, and was manifested unto us." The Word of God was made the fountain of life. And the general sense of the passage thus appears to be that while the Word itself rose into being as the Father's thought gradually realised in a living person, even His Son, all other things and beings were created by means of the Word thus realised. The Word became the Son of God, and then was made the source of being and life to a universe. Only through its connection with the Word of God has anything life. Apart from God all lieth in death, i .e., in non-existence. Through His Divine Word He gives being, life, to all, because through that Word they are created and sustained in vital rela- tions with Himself.f "And the life was the light of men." Light is the vivifying fructifying, principle of the material universe, and seems given as an emblem of the same principle in the spiritual universe. * The authorities in favour of this punctuation are overwhelming — Erasmus, Griesbach, Lachmann, Koppe, and J. G. Miiller. (See Alford's Gr. Test, in loc.) + The Cerinthian heresy of the world being created by the Demiurgus- out of eternal matter, was therefore excluded by this passage. D 34 The life which the Word of God imparted unto men, filled them with light ; i.e., it so acted upon their spiritual organism, upon their reason, intelligence, conscience, affection, will, as the solar light acts upon the material organism of plants and animal bodies. It comes to the soul of man filling it with "the Life of God." For "God is light" and " love." Hence, we are shown, by this declaration, how myriads of intelligent beings are re- plenished with the divine elements of being, with the Spirit of God, through that life and light which flow to them from the Divine "Word, and which is thus made to them the fountain of a divine and glorious existence. "And the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehendeth it not." The influence, however, of the divine light was only gradual. It was surrounded by darkness and penetrated, dissipated it only by degrees. Men were placed in an element of matter, in an animal body, and darkness held possession of them. The light was not welcomed and retained.* " There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. The same came for a witness of the light, that all men through him might believe. He was not that light, but was sent to bear witness of that light. That was the true light which liglitcth every man that cometh into the world." The "true light" stands here, as it has been justly remarked "in antithesis, not to the false, for the Baptist was no false prophet, but only to the relative, the derived." f It is con- trasted, as the original light, with those lights which were only derived from it, — viz., the prophets and all men who had been " moved by the Holy Spirit." epypfxevov seems now to be generally considered by the best expositors as connected with " the true light," not with "every man;" because "all men must come into the world, i.e., * KareXafitv, retained, held it not fast, after receiving or admitting. 4 Olsh. in loc. 35 must bo born." And the rendering therefore should be, was the true light then coming into the world, which lightcth every man." But the fact, declared in this and the two follow- ing verses, of chief interest is that this divine light, the Son of God, the Word of God, which, as was said above, is made the fountain of light and life to all men, descended from his heavenly state of complete union with God into the koo-{jlo