THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY ^ 5 ^ TiZs Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates https://archive.org/details/sermonswithmemoiOOtagg THE LIBRARY OF THE SERMO CHARLES MANSON TAGGART, LATE COLLEAGUE PASTOR OF THE UNITARIAN CIIURCH IN CHARLESTON, S. C. BOSTON: CROSBY, NICHOLS, AND COMPANY. CHARLESTON: S. G. COURTENAY & CO. LOUISVILLE: MAXWELL & CO. NASHVILLE: W. T. BERRY & CO. 1 856 . WITH A MEMOIR BV JOHN II. IIEYWOOD. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 185G, by Crosby, Nichols, and Company, the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. CAMBRIDGE: METCALF AND COMPANY. PRINTERS TO THE UNIVERSITY. 1P2.V TI2-S CONTEN TS. MEMOIR PAGE vii DISCOURSE I. RELIGION A LIFE, NOT A SPECIAL EXPERIENCE 1 DISCOURSE II. A RELIGION TO LIVE BY, THE BEST RELIGION TO DIE BY .17 DISCOURSE III. RELIGION AND MORALITY 32 DISCOURSE IV. SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH DISCOURSE V. THE FIRST SIN. — ADAM AND HIS POSTERITY. — THE DOC- TRINE OF THE COVENANT WITH ADAM , . . 04 DISCOURSE VI. THE IMMORAL TENDENCIES OF THE COMMON DOCTRINE OF VICARIOUS ATONEMENT 80 687050 IV CONTENTS DISCOURSE VII. FORGIVENESS OF SIN 96 DISCOURSE VIII. LAW OF RETRIBUTION 110 DISCOURSE IX. FALLACIOUS REASONING. — .TESUS AS JUDGE OF THE WORLD 125 DISCOURSE X. TERMS AND PHRASES. — UNIVERSAL SALVATION. UNIVER- SAL RESTORATION. — REWARDS AND PUNISHMENTS . . 141 DISCOURSE XI. THE BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS OR GOD AND THE DEVIL 155 DISCOURSE XII. USE AND MEANING OF THE TERMS DEVIL AND SATAN IN SCRIPTURE 172 DISCOURSE XIII. GOD AND NATURE 191 DISCOURSE XIV. IS SUFFERING NECESSARY'? 206 DISCOURSE XV. THOUGHTS CONNECTED WITH TIIE ORIGIN OF EVIL. — THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE 220 CONTENTS, V DISCOURSE X Y I . THE POWER OF MIND. — SOME GREAT THOUGHT 234 DISCOURSE X YI I . CONFLICTS OF FAITH, — IN THE SOUL AND IN THE CHURCH 249 V DISCOURSE XVIII. FUTURE LIFE. — IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL 262 DISCOURSE XIX. FUTURE LIFE. — IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL 277 DISCOURSE XX. FUTURE LIFE. — IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL 291 DISCOURSE XXI. REFLECTIONS ON DEATH, LIFE, AND FUTURITY 304 DISCOURSE XXII. THE MORAL MISSION OF OUR COUNTRY, WITH REFERENCE TO THE WORLD 318 DISCOURSE XXIII. THE MORAL MISSION OF OUR COUNTRY, WITH REFERENCE TO CHRISTIANITY 333 DISCOURSE X X I Y . WIIAT IS UNITARIAN CHRISTIANITY ? WHO IS A UNITARIAN ? 348 VI CONTENTS, DISCOURSE X X Y . TIIB MIND WHICH WAS IN JESUS. — DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE CHRIST AND WHAT IS CALLED CHRISTIANITY . . 371 DISCOURSE XXVI. USES OF THE COMMUNION 384 DISCOURSE XXVII. THE CHURCH OF THE FUTURE. — UNITY AND DIVERSITY. — THE SPIRIT OF DENOMINATION 398 MEMOIR. MEMOIR. A brief sketch of the life of the writer of this volume of Sermons may not be uninteresting to the reader. Charles Manson Taggart was born in the city of Montreal, Lower Canada, October 31, 1821. The greater portion of his childhood and youth was spent in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, to which city the family removed while he was yet very young. His parents belonged to the “ Old World.” Their early home was in the county of Antrim, not far from Belfast, in the North of Ireland. His mother he lost in early childhood, and for a series of years he was under the immediate care of his grandmother, a warm-hearted, devout, excellent woman. When Charles was ten years of age his father married again. Of her who thus came to hold the mother’s place, he always spoke with affection and respect, and by her his memory is fondly, reverently cherished. Very beau- tiful is the picture which she presents of him in his childhood and youth, when, by his cheerful and con- stant obedience, his thoughtful care for the younger b X MEMOIR. members of the family, his self-control, his love of peace, and his stainless purity, which never permitted profane or vulgar words to soil his lips, he made his presence a joy and a blessing to the home. Similar testimony to hers is that borne by one of the dearest companions of his youth and early manhood, Wil- liam Getty, Esq., formerly of Pittsburg, now of Phil- adelphia: — “ We were boys together. I think that he was a year or so older than myself. We went to school together when we were eight or nine years of age, and from this time until the summer of 1846 we were intimate friends. In his boyhood he was al- ways kind, generous, and amiable ; he always had full control of his feelings. I do not remember of his ever striking a school-mate, or even coming to harsh words. He was attentive to his studies, and was never behind his class. At home he was dutiful and obedient. Very early in life he lost his mother, and her memory was ever dear to him. Among his step-brothers and sisters he showed the same even temper and kindness that characterized him at a more advanced age. His affection for his grandmother was very strong.” From the dawn of his mental powers our friend loved knowledge, and gladly availed himself of every opportunity of intellectual improvement which was afforded him. His father, a man of active mind and a lover of learning, desired to have Charles thor- oughly educated, but straitened pecuniary circum- stances prevented him from giving to his son the educational privileges which he would gladly have given. The privileges enjoyed, therefore, were few, MEMOIR. XI being principally such as were afforded by the pub- lic schools of Pittsburg. Fortunately, however, mental progress and the acquisition of knowledge are not necessarily nor exclusively dependent upon the number or greatness of privileges enjoyed. The mind intent on knowledge will obtain it. If it has not opportunities offered, it will create them. We commonly speak of men who have acquired valua- ble information, or have developed their power of thought without the enjoyment of the facilities pre- sented in well-endowed institutions of learning, as self-made men, in distinction from men who have en- joyed these facilities. The term is not well applied ; the distinction drawn is not just. The privileges presented in an educational institution of high order are by no means to be undervalued, but it is not the possession of such privileges that makes the scholar or the thinker. Every real thinker, every true scholar, is essentially a self-made man, that is, a man who by wise, faithful, constant use expands his powers, and by persevering industry and profound medita- tion makes the treasures of learning his own. Such a man, above all others, appreciates and is grateful for the aid which libraries and universities afford ; but if he cannot enjoy their aid, he does, and does well, without it. As certainly will he who has a thirst for knowledge, the sacred instinct of thought, find knowledge, as the bee will find the flower-con- cealed honey. This instinct our friend possessed in full measure. He was a student by nature, and had keen delight Xll MEMOIR. in the exercise of thought and the pursuit of knowl- edge. The companion, whose words have been al- ready quoted, says : “ As he grew up to mature years, his mind sought after literary attainments. When quite a young man, he entered a wholesale grocery store, and gave entire satisfaction to his employers ; while thus engaged, his evenings were devoted to study and to attendance at the meetings of the Mar- shall Literary Institute, of which he was an active member, and of the 1 Baldwin,’ of which he was an honorary member. The exercises of these associa- tions were well calculated to develop the talents of their members, and our deceased friend stood in the foremost rank. As a presiding officer he was calm yet firm, and succeeded in maintaining good order ; as a writer he was extremely careful, and his pro- ductions always seemed finished ; as a debater he could grow warm, and as the interest increased, he became truly eloquent. His natural inclination was for literary pursuits, — in these he excelled.” The friend, who has given us this information in regard to the intellectual tendencies and culture of his beloved companion, speaks in a deeply interesting manner of his religious experience. “ His religious feelings were developed at a very early period of his life. We were both brought up in the same church, and attended the Sabbath school together. For a long time we were members of a Bible class taught on Sabbath evenings by Rev. J. R. Kerr, long since deceased, for whom our departed brother cherished the kindest feelings, and under whose ministry he MEMOIR. Xlll sat with great pleasure, and, I have no doubt,' much profit. He took delight in religious things, and was fond of theological discussions. We often differed on doctrinal points. The natural turn of his thoughts qualified him for controversy, and he engaged in it with great relish ; yet throughout he ever showed an even temper, never permitting himself to be led away by the heat of discussion.” It is very delightful in these days of sectarian narrowness and exclusiveness to meet \Vlth a Christian who can cherish warm af- fection and express profound respect for one whose theological opinions differ widely, even radically, from his own. Thus speaks the warm-hearted man in a subsequent part of his valuable communication, and his earnest, affectionate words do credit alike to his own Christian spirit and to the spirit of his beloved companion: — “Memory freshens as I think of the past, and it seems all too like a dream. The inti- macy at one time was almost as tender as that be- tween man and wife. For months we were together, talked with each other, wrote and counselled togeth- er, and, as far as intercourse on earth is concerned, we were as one. No brother was nearer or dearer. My friend has gone, the friend of early days, when the hearts of both were tender and susceptible of good impressions. For his memory I cherish pro- found respect. Although we differed on doctrinal points, still I can only believe that he has gone up higher, that he is among the throng that surround the throne of the Lamb. May it be your lot and mine to meet him there.” b * XIV MEMOIR. Would that the spirit of piety and charity which prompted the utterance of these touching words were prevalent in the Christian world. Then the soul-union for which the Saviour fervently prayed would be effected and enjoyed among his followers, and earth would have a foretaste of the peace and bliss which belong to the world of candor and har- mony, where all know as they are known, and where perfect love casteth out all injustice, as well as all fear. The family of Mr. Taggart belong to the Presby- terian Church. “ He was brought up,” to quote the language of one of his relatives, a minister of that church, u a Presbyterian of the strictest sect, and his abandoning the religion of his fathers was a source of unspeakable sorrow to all his friends.” The writer probably intended to say, that his aban- doning the theological system of his fathers was a source of sorrow ; for it is not to be supposed that he thought that one whose heart was full of reverence and gratitude, and whose life attested his loyalty to conscience and God, ever abandoned “ religion.” It is unfortunate that, even in the carelessness of common conversation or of epistolary intercourse, “religion ” and theological or ecclesiastical systems should be spoken of as identical. As well might we seek to identify God’s infinite ocean-reservoir and some petty cistern formed by human hands, as to identify religion with any system which man has devised or arranged. To depart from the theological opinions of one’s fathers is one thing, to depart from MEMOIR. XV their religion is another and a very different thing. That Mr. Taggart never abandoned the religion of his fathers his life attests ; that he rejected their theological system, is true ; and it is also true, that he never was more faithful to the religion of his fa- thers than when he gave up their theological system, for he gave it up, because, as he conscientiously be- lieved, reverence for the Divine word and obedience to the Divine will commanded and compelled him so to do ; and reverential obedience to the word and will of God surely was the essential element in the religion of his fathers, as it is in the religion .of all devout Christians. It is no light thing for a young man to depart from the theological opinions in which he has been edu- cated, and which have become almost sacred to him through their association with the church and the home. When and how was Mr. Taggart led to adopt views widely different from those in which he had been carefully instructed ? This is an interest- ing question, and perhaps the best answer which can be given is furnished in a brief extract from a let- ter written by an uncle of Mr. Taggart, a venerable minister of the Presbyterian Church, who, while he frankly says, “ I cannot think that there is anything in the Unitarian system, as far as I understand it, that meets the wants of sinners dead in trespasses and sins,” and “ I do not think that his writings will advance the cause of true religion ” ; yet cheer- fully attests to the “irreproachable moral character from youth ” of his truth-loving, manly, outspoken relative. XVI MEMOIR. The extract is as follows: — 44 In a letter to me, dated July 16, 1846 (which was some time after he went to study at Meadville, Pa.), he uses the follow- ing words : 4 Ever since I have been capable of hold- ing any views for myself, they have been the same as now, only time, observation, and experience have strengthened and confirmed them. True, I tried to believe the Calvinistic system of dogmas, but the very effort to do so, by examining for myself the grounds on which they stood, convinced me of their error.’ In speaking of his theological views in the same letter, he says: 4 I held them long before I deliberately concluded to state them to any one, nor till by careful examination of the Scripture (and the Scripture alone, for I had nothing else) I had satis- fied my own mind.’ It appears, therefore, that our friend, who has finished his course, never changed his religious views ; he had tried to embrace other 4 dogmas,’ but failed in the attempt.” The mental and religious history laid open to our inspection in these few lines is deeply interesting. Here is a young man, religiously inclined from child- hood, a member of a family connected with a church which holds the Calvinistic system of theology in all its rigidness and stern severity, faithfully indoctri- nated at home, in the Bible class, and at the church, in the distinctive principle^ of that system, heartily desirous of accepting the system if he can, and ear- nestly, constantly, studying the Scriptures to find it substantiated in them ; who, notwithstanding his de- sires, his efforts, and his prayers, is unable to discern MEMOIR. XVII proof of its correctness in the sacred volume, and who, unaided and alone, with no Unitarian books or friends to bias his mind, after long-protracted and at times agonizing study, — agonizing, for he shrank from results which he knew must separate him wide- ly from nearest and dearest friends, — came deliber- ately to the conclusion, that the Bible presents views utterly irreconcilable with the theological system of John Calvin. Such studies and struggles, such reso- lute acceptance of unwelcome conclusions, and calm determination to avow them and abide by them, im- ply, if not extraordinary mental power, extraordinary mental independence, and heroic fidelity to truth. The man who can thus think for himself, and who has the courage thus to think for himself, who feels that necessity is laid upon him to go wherever truth may lead him, may be as far from the kingdoms established by any sectarian chiefs or theological sovereigns, as John Milton or the sturdiest republi- can in Cromwell’s army was from the kingdom of Charles Stuart; but he certainly is not far from the kingdom of Him who said, “ I am a king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice.” For a young man, ‘to whom thought and study were so essential, and whose mind was, as his most intimate friend states, for years “on one object, — the ministry,” — a professional life would seem the legitimate, almost the necessary life. But, as has been already intimated, contracted pecuniary circum- XV111 MEMOIR. stances prevented him from entering upon the course to which all his mental and moral tendencies led him. He accordingly at the age of seventeen entered a wholesale store, in which he continued four years. To the duties which then and there lay before him, he devoted himself with conscientious fidelity. He brought his intelligence, integrity, and habits of in- dustry and perseverance to bear upon the work which he had undertaken, and which, therefore, was accom- plished to the entire satisfaction of his employers. But though faithful to mercantile life while in it, he never found it congenial to his tastes. His treasure was elsewhere, and where his treasure was, his heart was also. At the end of four years, therefore, he gave up his situation, and for a period remained at home, quietly pursuing his studies there. But this course could not be continued long. His self-respect and his thoughtfulness for others would not permit him to be dependent upon relatives, who, however kind, were not in a condition, as he felt, to justify him in adding to their necessary expenses. He must labor in some way to procure the means of support. After stating his thoughts and feelings to his father, he left home, to go he knew not whither, but in full confidence that a kind Providence would open the way of duty and direct his steps therein. He went on board a steamboat at Pittsburg, and sailed down the Ohio, with barely money enough in bis pocket to defray his expenses, but with heart rich in hope. In the course of a few days he reached Louisville, Kentucky, where he engaged himself temporarily MEMOIR. XIX as clerk in a store. Here he remained for a few months, and then, having obtained letters of intro- duction to prominent merchants in New Orleans, he sailed down the Ohio and Mississippi to that ever- attractive, ever-disappointing city, where many find fortunes and many find graves, but few find homes. There he spent a few weeks, but not succeeding in obtaining employment, he determined to go to St. Lodis. There also his search was unsuccessful. While there, he heard of a school in a small town in Missouri, which was in need of a teacher. He at once went on a boat bound up the Mississippi, stopped at the landing nearest the place of his des- tination, and, with carpet-bag in hand, walked to the town, twenty-five miles distant. For three months he remained there, faithfully discharging his duties as teacher. At the end of this time, becoming wea- ried with the monotony of his life, and seeing no prospect of accomplishing anything for himself, either pecuniarily, or, what was to him of infinitely more importance, in the way of mental improvement, he resigned his office, and, on foot again, made his way to the river. He took passage on the first boat that came, and went to Quincy, Illinois, in which beautiful town — made sacred to hearts of Unitarian Christians by the memory of that admirable man and devoted pastor, George Moore — and its vicinity he remained for a little while, in the hope of becom- ing a teacher in a school, or of obtaining some other congenial means of support. Not succeeding, he determined to go to St. Louis again. For hours he XX MEMOIR. sat upon the bank of the Mississippi, waiting for a boat, and as he waited meditating in seriousness, but not in despondency, upon his past history and his probable career in the future. At last a boat draws near, and he gladly goes on board. Little dreamed the officers of that boat of the deep thoughts, the elevated purposes, which filled the mind and sustained the heart of the unassuming man who then became passenger on it. In St. Louis he re- mained for a few days, and then took passage on a boat bound up the Ohio. He stopped at the town of Owensboro’, Daviess Co., Ky., where he at once was engaged as teacher in the Seminary, and where he met with fair success, having a good number of pupils, and being well esteemed as an instructor. It was in this town that my acquaintance with this beloved brother began. In May, 1845, I spent a few days there, and preached several times. In the audience I observed a young man of intellectual countenance, who appeared to listen with close at- tention and deep interest. Struck with his appear- ance and manner, I sought an introduction, and con- versation only confirmed my impression. I made inquiries of friends in Owensboro’, and learned from them that the character of the teacher, as far as they knew, was in harmony with his appearance. Soon after returning to Louisville, I addressed a letter to Mr. Taggart, in which I asked him if he would go to Meadville and pursue a course of theological study there. After due deliberation, he replied that he would go. He said that at first he had hesitated MEMOIR. XXI about acceding to the proposition, because of the pain which he knew the fact of his becoming a preacher of views regarded as heretical and danger- ous would cause his relatives, but that, on reflec- tion, it seemed to him clearly his duty to what he esteemed truth to prepare himself for an efficient advocacy of it. In September of that year he entered the Theo- logical School, and, as he long afterwards told me, with doubt and misgiving. Brought up among those who considered it a duty to be exclusive in matters pertaining to religion, who regarded liber- alism as synonymous with latitudinarianism, and viewed it with extreme aversion, not only as being indicative of indifference to vital religion, but as be- ing the very essence of irreligion, and who therefore thought it right by creeds and formularies to fence in religion ; educated in a community which held most rigidly to the sternest doctrines, and which per- mitted, or at least encouraged, mental freedom only within certain prescribed limits, it was to him a cause of surprise, an incredible thing, that any min- ister and congregation of Christians could offer the opportunity of theological education to a young man, without requiring of him a promise or pledge that he would become a preacher and advocate of the opinions held by them. So 8eep-seated was his conviction, not only of the improbability, but of the impossibility, of any religious man or denomination suffering the individual mind to pursue its inquiries in perfect mental freedom, freedom restrained only by c XXII MEMOIR. a sense of constant and direct accountability to God, that for a year he anxiously and suspiciously scruti- nized the letters which he received from me, and also the actions of the Professors atthe Theological School, to discover intimations of the plan which he was sure we must have of entrapping him, and in some way, indirectly if not directly, of interfering with his mental and spiritual freedom, and making him, wheth- er he would or no, an instrument for accomplishing some sectarian end. Especially desirous was he to discover the hidden motive which prompted me to show an interest and place confidence in him, — a stranger, — for he thought it an almost inconceivable thing that gratitude for the enjoyment of educational privileges and of liberal views of religion should be of itself sufficient motive to prompt one to offer sim- ilar privileges to any mind and heart which seemed well fitted to appreciate them. But by the end of the year he was convinced not only that no ulterior motive had prompted the invitation to him to go to Meadville, but that that institution was in reality what it professed to be, and that its Professors, whom, after becoming thoroughly acquainted with them, he never ceased to regard with warm affection and profound esteem, were perfectly true to the princi- ples of Christian liberty which they avowed. For four years he remained at Meadville, pursuing his studies with an ardor that never abated, with a perseverance which was never wearied. He was born to be a student. He loved study for its own sake. Difficulties only aroused him to new exertions. MEMOIR. XX111 He had keen enjoyment in the exercise of his own powers, and he appreciated well the results which other earnest thinkers reached in the exercise of theirs. Of his life in the Theological School, of his habits of study, of the impression which he made upon his fellow-students, and the place which he held in their esteem, the following letter from his beloved friend, Rev. R. R. Shippen, pastor of the Unitarian Church in Chicago, 111., presents a beauti di picture. “My dear Friend: — “ I gladly comply with your request to furnish a chapter of Mr. Taggart’s preparation for the minis- try at Meadville. Most happy am I to pay to his memory that grateful tribute of affection. Yet our uneventful student life furnishes little material of interest to relate. Its interest was chiefly in our friendly companionship, and” our studies, plans, and hopes in common, investing it with a quiet and peculiar charm that cannot be described. It all rises before me now as a beautiful picture ; but rapidly vanishing into the past as a delightful dream. “ It was in the autumn of 1845 that Mr. Taggart first came to Meadville. The Theological School had been in existence only one year; so that there were but two classes, and these were small. The fresh novelty of its establishinenf in the quiet village had not passed away. The coming of so many re- ligious young men into a small parish was an im- portant addition to the church, and infused new spirit into our rather monotonous social life. Into a XXIV MEMOIR. few hospitable homes, all the students were cordially welcomed, and admitted with little restraint and for- mality. Beside this, the high anticipations of friends abroad for the success of the School caused each additional student to be hailed with joyful interest. “ One other fact combined with these to make each individual a marked man. It would be difficult, I think, to collect together a band of twenty candi- dates for the ministry of more heterogeneous mate- rial than were assembled there. Our ages ranged from sixteen to thirty-five. We came from every quarter of the Northern States, from Maine to Illi- nois. Even Germany, England, and Wales were rep- resented among us. We had members of five dif- ferent denominations. Our advantages of culture and experience of life ranged from the privileges of Boston schools and society down to zero. None were graduates of any college, except of the great American institution of practical life, the people’s university. But in this no two had pursued the same course, or had been drilled alike. One came from the woods, and another from the prairies ; one from a workshop, and another from his home in a New England village. One had taught school, another had been several years preaching with the gift of tongues, if not of wisdom. Some had already had rough encounters in the battle of life, others were just starting, utterly unsophisticated and ignorant of the world and its ways. Some had known nothing but books and study all their days, and others could not read or write a sentence of English without MEMOIR. XXV blundering. It was a motley group, full of intense individuality. No affectation of eccentricity was needed to distinguish any man from his comrades. Every one rejoiced in his own original style of speech, dress, manners, and type of manhood. Yet one com- mon motive and aim filled all with kindred enthusi- asm, and a hearty religious sympathy harmonized all incongruities. It was beautiful to behold how ready all were for mutual help, and how generously each judged his brother’s faults and failings. A genial laugh, never embittered by self-conceit or con- tempt, was the only, but always effective, criticism. Thus the varied experience and diverse characteris- tics only imparted richness to our discussions, and perennial freshness to all our intercourse. “ Charles came among us as marked a character as any in all the variety. No just comparison is pos- sible ; yet all would admit that his talents and cul- ture were of the first order. His early Calvinistic education, with his change of views by his own in- dependent study and personal conviction, — his few months of school-teaching and study of law, giving him superior mental discipline, — his wanderings in the South and West, giving him an observation of phases of life unknown to the rest of us, — all com- bined in a contribution of original experience pecu- liar to himself. In debate and conference-meeting he immediately took high rank, as one of the most interesting of our number. His early practice in a young men’s literary society in Pittsburg enabled him to express himself fluently, and with elegance c XXVI MEMOIR. and precision, in extempore speech. Yet when any part was assigned him, he always came prepared. He never would speak against time, and always manifested a restless impatience when others talked only to occupy the hour. His extreme conservatism brought him into perpetual antagonism and frequent warm discussion with the radical reformers around him. And when sometimes a criticism of Southern institutions would blend the people in indiscriminate denunciation, Mr. Taggart would rise in their de- fence with a chivalric enthusiasm worthy of Clay or Calhoun. This antagonism sometimes carried him to the other extreme, and betrayed him into unquali- fied praise. But none ever questioned his conscien- tiousness, and I never knew him to transcend the courtesies of debate, for an instant to lose his calm self-possession, or to utter a hasty word that he could wish to be recalled. Though he sometimes stood alone, his courage never failed in maintaining his own independence, or advocating the most unpopu- lar opinion. Nor did his pleasant spirit ever suffer the sharpest encounter to mar the prevailing har- mony and peace. “ During the first year, however, I saw but little of him socially. The rest of the students boarded in a club, near together and near the School. Charles resided at a distance, in a family of Methodist friends or relatives, and was thus brought little in contact with us except in school hours. He came and went directly and alone to the exercises, and home again, and visited but little. He was studying hard. He MEMOIR. xxvn would, as he afterwards told me, often study all day, and for the better part of the night, and for days never leave his room except for recitation. His countenance was pale and sedate, and wore a grave and anxious expression. The students thought him cold and reserved, and little suspected the fund of humor latent within him, and afterwards revealed. He was often low-spirited, and suffered in a sense of loneliness and want of sympathy, till it seemed as if a morbid feeling approaching to misanthropy were stealing over him. Whether it was the anxious thoughts natural to the entrance on our high voca- tion, or his loneliness with too severe study and close confinement, or other causes that affected him chiefly, I know not. But probably all these com- bined, with mutual reaction. “ It was in the year 1848-49, the last year of our course, that I knew him best. We were then class- mates and intimate friends. The year previous I had been absent from home and the School; and in the intimacy of frequent correspondence, in which he gave unreserved expression to his deepest thoughts, I first thoroughly learned the worth and wealth of his spirit. His acquaintance had also extended in the parish and among the students, bringing out his varied talents, and giving free play to his wit and humor, and warm social nature. He had boarded for a time in my mother’s family, and continued in- timate as one of our household. Our house was a familiar resort for all the students in the evenings and hours of leisure, and he was a frequent visitor, xx vm MEMOIR. so that I saw much of him in the most intimate relations, and knew him thoroughly. He had be- come a favorite with the children of the neighbor- hood, joining them in their work or play, their gar- dening, or fishing and nutting expeditions, and was regarded by a large group of them as a familiar friend. Indeed, with his genial, generous spirit, he became a universal favorite in the School and the parish, among old and young. There still his name is familiar as a household word. Many felt sadly when he left to return no more. They watched his course with an affectionate interest and pleasure, and when he died, many hearts there mourned him as a brother. “ During the previous summer he had been preach- ing in Louisville. His flattering success, and the generous warmth of his reception, which caused him always after to speak of Louisville and Mead- ville as his twofold home, had enlivened and bright- ened his spirits, so that during that year he was buoyant and joyous as a different man. A larger number of students had by this time joined the School, and among them several of more than the average talent and culture. Many circumstances conspired to make that winter peculiarly pleasant. They who were there will never forget that charm- ing year of our school life, nor fail to think of Charles as one of the favorites in our pleasant group. The beautiful hills of that charming valley, so gorgeous in the rich and rare variety of its au- tumnal foliage, and the graceful banks of the gentle MEMOIR. XXIX streams, invited us to many an afternoon ramble. In our frequent walks, Charles was always a chosen companion ; and in the evening parties, musical meetings, and sleigh-rides of the later winter, he was always a certain guest, — always, too, one of the most merry and entertaining, with his ready repartee and original sayings, his fund of anecdote, and queer maxims of universal application. “In school, also, he still held a high rank. He studied faithfully, and rarely or never missed or slighted an exercise or recitation. His mental dis- cipline gave him such thorough self-command, that he could write easily, fluently, and at any time. He wrote with remarkable grace and beauty of expres- sion, never transcribing and rarely correcting. He was always punctual and prompt with themes and sermons, having them written while others were thinking about it. Indeed, he always retained the rare gift of writing a sermon as readily on Monday morning as on Saturday night. Though especially fond of poetry and fiction, he spent no time in desul- tory reading, and rambled little in any direction from the straight line of study. Accustomed to think much and digest thoroughly, he had his own decided opinion on every question. He had also learned the wisdom, rarely acquired except by prac- tical experience in professional life, of studying by subjects. He was indefatigable in his study of any subject that interested him, pursuing his investiga- tions with unyielding pertinacity through every volume he could find that would afford him any XXX MEMOIR. light. Once, for instance, he becamo engaged in a theological controversy by letter with some distant Calvinistic friend. With his whole soul he entered into it, studied every point thoroughly, as if prepar- ing for the press or pulpit, and thus gain d a reser- voir of knowledge on controversial points far beyond that of most preachers of his years. In his visit to Louisville, also, by conversation with the late Pro- fessor Caldwell, and by reading his book, he became interested in the question of the unity of origin of the human race. When he returned to Meadville, he diligently perused everything on the subject that he could lay his hands upon, and sent abroad for books. When Agassiz’s articles afterwards ap- peared in the Christian Examiner, attracting pop- ular attention and discussion, Mr. Taggart was already familiar with everything that had been written on both sides of the subject, and surprised his friends in conversation, in a lecture and an ar- ticle in the Southern Quarterly Review, with the extent of his information on what seemed to many a novel question. Thus, on such topics as interested him, he had accumulated an amount of material, and acquired a decision in his opinions, which gave a consciousness of knowledge and a positive tone of authority to his assertions, that commanded respect and carried a weight of conviction with all the words he uttered. In later years he read less and thought more. The views he held were no second- hand parrot repetitions of other men’s thoughts, but his own independent conclusions, and largely the MEMOIR. XXXI fresh products of his own brain. This I think was evident in his sermons, and gave them the charm of freshness and force of originality. u Of his sermons and preaching in the School I can hardly speak. His aims were pure and his hopes high in the ministry. But any conceptions of the work, gained only by anticipations, were necessarily vague. Our sermons written and delivered in the School were very unsatisfactory samples of what any one would do in real life. With no distinct aim or object, they inevitably became broad and commonplace generalities. They were either fiercely controversial and combative, aimed with chivalric enthusiasm at some imaginary windmill, or else tame abstractions, covering the whole vineyard of duty at once, broad and flat as a prairie, intended to regenerate society generally, and no one in partic- ular. Charles entered with very little spirit into what seemed merely ministerial gymnastics and sham preaching. For this reason I can but dimly recollect a single sermon that he preached, except one on the novel text, “Every man for himself,” and once when he came forth gravely with a discourse on the importance of having plenty of Tin , in which he gave free play to his humor, and afforded much entertainment to his hearers. “ The tendency of his mind was toward broad generalization. He was full of a comprehensive phi- losophy of life, which existed not only as abstract theory, but was expressed in definite practical views, pervaded his spirit, and gave tone to his character, XXX11 MEMOIR. His spirit was imbued with hearty trust in Divine Providence, and he was fond of dwelling on the thought that fidelity to-day is the best preparation for to-morrow, wherever in all the universe to-mor- row finds us, whether on this side of the grave or the other. This made him ever prompt and faithful to the duties at hand, gilding the present with all the brightness of sunny enjoyment and noble work, and little anxious for the future. It gave him a calm hope that never failed, and lifted him into a perfect serenity that nothing could disturb. Indeed, I never knew any one who could fairly face the darkest pos- sibilities of the future with more unfaltering calm- ness and composure. It was so in all the uncertain- ties of his school life and years of wandering, and even to the last hour of his stay on earth. His spirit was also remarkably cosmopolitan. This came from his realizing sense of the Divine Providence everywhere, making the whole world a fit sphere for a high mission to the faithful soul. He saw, too, that in every place there was noble work to be done ; and he believed and cherished the faith that there are pleasant people everywhere, among whom the generous spirit would meet responsive sympathy, and find or make friends and a home wherever the lot might be cast. This faith made him cheerful through all the wanderings of his later years, and acting upon it, he made it true in his own* experi- ence. “ I think he heartily and thoroughly enjoyed his last year in the School. Often afterwards he alluded MEMOIR. XXX111 to it as a sunny portion of his life. When spring came, he was prostrated for some weeks by a severe illness. When school drew nigh the close, he was weak and worn, pale and thin. Some friends thought that they then perceived the indications of permanent disease and certain decline, and feared that his life must be brief. In his weak condition, probably some natural perplexity as to his field of labor troubled him. His inclinations led him to the West, and his predilections were still stronger for the South. He always declared his firm faith that he could gather for himself a parish in any flourish- ing place, declaring too his preference for a church so formed. But that would involve a temporary independence or guaranty of support which he did not possess, and no place seemed open in the direc- tion of his choice. Advised by the Faculty to take a short journey to recruit his health, he visited the societies in Rochester and Albany, whose pulpits were then vacant. At the latter place, after preach- ing but one Sunday, he was invited to settle. So sudden an engagement seemed rash on both sides. Yet the call was highly flattering to a young man, and for the few remaining days of the term he was buoyant and elated in spirits. He entered upon his work with high hopes, and building many airy castles of quick success. But the post was too difficult for any young man, and utterly uncongenial to him, with his Southern partialities, and he soon set him- self afloat, with his face turned westward. “ It is yours to relate the subsequent course of his d xxxiv MEMOIR. brief career, and speak of his talents and character and work in the ministry. His abilities were rated as of superior order by his Meadville friends and companions. We felt sure that he would make a mark in the world, and, if his life were spared, take a distinguished position among the members of his profession. But it seemed his destiny to wander, and spend his few remaining years in finding the field for his appointed work. He had at last found the congenial sphere which seemed the charming realization of all his hopes and fancies, with opening avenues of inviting usefulness, when, by a mysteri- ous and inscrutable Providence, he was called away. His wandering prevented any brilliant visible success. Yet his life was not in vain, nor his mission unful- filled. It is not the quantity of our words and deeds, but the quality of our character, that makes deep and abiding impression in the world. The impression of his character, and the remembrance of his pure and generous spirit, are left in many a heart. By frequent letters I accompanied him in all his wander- ing. What might have seemed discouraging failure to a superficial observer, never disheartened him. He was cheerful and hopeful through all change and uncertainty, borne up by his cherished faith, to which he was ever steadfast and loyal. Wherever he went, he seemed to realize the majestic presence of a superintending Providence, finding everywhere the needed work and the cordial friends that his faith anticipated, and caring little where the morrow should find him, while living nobly and fulfilling MEMOIR. XXXV faithfully the duties of to-day. The lines of Festus, of which he was so fond, may be most appropriately applied to himself: — ‘ We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths ; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.’ “ Affectionately your friend and brother, “ Rush R. Shippen. “ Chicago, April 10, 1855.” Such was the life of our friend at Meadville. It was life. He lived every hour which he passed there, and when he left the institution, he bore with him a mind trained to earnest, vigorous, consecutive thought, and a high ideal of Christian usefulness. During the summer of 1848, the summer previous to that of his graduation, he preached for a series of Sundays in Louisville. His manner of delivery at that time was not adapted to do justice either to the vitality or the power of his mind. Naturally fastid- ious, and shrinking from everything that resembled or seemed to resemble “ clap-trap,” he spoke in a comparatively low tone, with little action and ap- parently little animation. His articulation was not then entirely distinct, so that many had, difficulty in catching his words, often losing parts of sentences, sometimes whole sentences. But notwithstanding these drawbacks, his preaching was interesting, to many persons intensely interesting. His sermons then, as always, were characterized by freshness, boldness, and originality. To minds of a certain xxxvi MEMOIR. class, minds which had been troubled with doubts, his preaching was pre-eminently quickening and helpful. They instinctively felt that he was one who had sufficient clearness and comprehensiveness of mind to appreciate the full force of any mental difficulty, and, moreover, that he was one who, how- ever strong his own faith might be, would never be unjust to those who had passed or were passing through the terrible ordeal of scepticism. To an- other class of minds, also, his preaching was pecu- liarly attractive, — to those who had suffered, as he had suffered, from the depressing influences of Calvinism. Persons who from childhood had had bright and cheering views of Christianity, and knew not from experience how deep and dark is the gloom cast by the system of the stern Genevan, thought his preaching too controversial. But not so thought those who had themselves suffered. To them his preaching was not too frequently nor too sharply controversial, and they always enjoyed his oft-re- peated and thorough dissections of that hard system of theology. Immediately after graduating, Mr. Taggart was ordained as pastor of the Unitarian Church in Al- bany, New York. The ordination services were # held on the evening of July 31, 1849. He entered upon his work in that city with earnestness and enthusiasm, and prosecuted it with diligence. His residence, however, in Albany was brief. The church was struggling under a load of debt, and there were other circumstances which rendered the MEMOIR. XXXV11 position a very trying one, especially to a young minister. Our friend, after laboring earnestly for a season, felt convinced that some other man, of more years and larger experience, could be found better fitted for the charge of the church there than himself, and that its best interests, as well as his own, would be promoted by his resignation. He accordingly bade it farewell, though not without emotion ; for he. had become interested in the church and the place, and was very grateful to the friends who had earnest- ly co-operated with him. The feeling with which those friends regarded him is manifested in the following extract from a letter written by one who was accustomed to listen to his preaching, but who is now himself earnestly engaged in the work of the ministry, Rev. A. S. Ryder. u I have been much grieved by the early death of our beloved brother Taggart. I was intimately as- sociated with him while he was settled in Albany, and I soon learned to love him very much. At that time Albany was a difficult place, but he entered upon his work there with a cheerfulness seldom seen, and a faithful application to the work before him, worthy of imitation by all who enter the sacred call- ing. He remained in Albany but ten months ; but during that time I seldom met him except in his study. He thought the pulpit his sphere of action and influence far more than society, and all his labor had express reference to his public services ; and even then, though he had but just entered upon the duties of his chosen profession, I heard it said of some of d* XXXV111 MEMOIR. his sermons, that they were creditable efforts, even when compared with those of the celebrated preach- er who had preceded him.” Mr. Taggart left Albany, April 30, 1850. For a few months he was not established in any place. He travelled over a large portion of onr Southern and Western country, and preached in many places, •Buffalo, Detroit, Chicago, St. Louis, Louisville, Can- nelton, Ind., New Orleans, Mobile, Wheeling, Wash- ington, D. C., Charleston, S. C., and Augusta, Ga. He preached at Charleston two Sundays, November 17th and 24th. During the services of the first Sun- day an incident occurred of most affecting character. After the morning service Mr. Taggart was intro- duced to several persons, and among them to Daniel Webb, Esq., a respected member of the church. Near the close of the afternoon sermon, and when Mr. Taggart was speaking in reference to dying scenes, Mr. Webb died, passing instantaneously from the seen to the unseen world. This event, so start- ling and impressive, but served to render more prom- inent two thoughts which were always vividly pres- ent to the mind of our brother, and which he sought to make equally vivid to the minds of others ; — that each passing day is to be regarded as a complete ex- istence of itself, and to be marked by the highest life, both mental and spiritual, of which a man is capa- ble ; and that the unseen world is not to be regarded as far remote from the seen, but as near to it and intimately connected with it. A warm climate was congenial to Mr. Taggart’s MEMOIR. XX XIX constitution, and he determined, if possible, to find an abiding place, a home, somewhere in the Southern States. He concluded at last to go to Nashville, Tennessee, where he remained somewhat more than two years, commencing his ministerial work there February 9th, 1851, and ending it February 27th, 1853. Here he gave himself up in earnestness to his life- work ; here he manifested fully what he was capable of being and doing. Years of life were those two years, of true, intense life, both mental and spiritual ; and never did two years of self-discipline, of intel- lectual improvement, of religious consecration, lead to greater development, produce more real results, than those years led to and produced in the experi- ence and character of our brother. He was no long- er the mere student, though a more thorough, more indefatigable student he never was at any period of his life than then. Books he studied with profound interest, but he also studied men. He mingled free- ly in society, he entered into earnest, searching con- versation. Those with whom he became intimate opened their inmost thoughts to him. Men in every stage of religious oij irreligious experience he met with; — some who for fashion or family’s sake were attending, and for years had been attending, churches with whose doctrines they had no sympathy ; some who had begun to doubt the accordance with Chris- tianity of much of the popular theology ; some who had found in the writings of Channing full expres- sion of thoughts and feelings which had been awa- xl MEMOIR. kened in themselves, as they had privately meditated upon the teachings of our Saviour and his Apostles ; some whose hearts were filled to overflowing with religious love and gratitude ; some who were troubled with doubts as to the reality of religion ; and some who had wandered far away into the dreary, arctic region of atheism, utter non-belief in God and im- mortality. Such were the elements which were mingled in the audiences that from time to time gathered around him. Our brother felt that he had a great, a real, and a solemn work before him, and to it he gave himself up with all the energies of his being. He felt that no formal preaching would do ; that doubts and difficulties could not be ignored or slurred over, but must be met, fairly considered and resolved, or removed in a manly, Christian way. So he took up the great themes, God, Christ, immor- tality, sin, death, belief, unbelief, as if they had been presented to him for the first time in all their grandeur and infinite importance. Upon these themes he meditated in the silence of his room, gratefully availing himself of whatever aid the wise and good could give through the books in which they live, but not relying upon them, — relying only upon his own powers, concentrated in earnestness to the pursuit of truth, and upon the gracious aid of God. Not in vain did he rely. Great thoughts, thus might- ily evoked, came majestically to him, and, being sent forth in fulness and freshness from his mind, went home with power to the minds of others. Old sub- jects were invested with new and living interest. MEMOIR. xli Difficulties were removed, doubts were resolved. Men felt that a genuine man was speaking to them, and not from prescription or for form’s sake, but from his own experience, and in obedience to the convic- tions of an honest soul. Wonderful was the effect of this earnest study, this heroic search of truth, upon his own mind. It was enlarged, expanded in all directions, invigorated. It was elevated to a higher plane. Its aversion to Calvinism never abated ; but that aversion found ex- pression less in negation and more in affirmation, — affirmation of the blessedness, the ennobling, ani- mating, liberalizing influence, of what he regarded as the genuine Gospel faith. And all this while his spiritual was commensurate with his intellectual growth. Called to visit the mourner, sunk in deep sorrow, to sympathize with the long-afflicted sufferer, he realized more and more man’s dependence upon God, and appreciated more and more the infinite blessedness of the religion which comes with balm from on high. Nor was this all the effect produced. His manner in the pulpit was entirely changed. He spoke with energy, with distinction, animation, and great power. It was no longer the student of fastidious taste, quietly reading his essay, but the earnest man, long- ing to impart what he felt to be vital truth to his brother-man. Mr. Taggart felt that his life at Nashville was of great service to him. He thus speaks, in his diary, at the close of the year 1852 : “ To me an eventful and xlii MEMOIR. also a useful year. I have read, studied, written, more than in any previous year of my life. I have labored, as I had ability, in the cause of charity and brotherhood, and what I regard as Christianity. May the coming year be less harassing and more useful.” That word, “ harassing,” used by one nev- er wont to murmur, reveals much. His Nashville experience was alike interesting and trying, and the contemplation of it, while it fills the mind with ad- miration for his noble qualities, touches the heart to sadness. A few persons appreciated him and his la- bors ; but the number was exceedingly small. His audiences ranged from eight to one hundred and fifty. For a long series of Sundays, his morning congregation did not average more than twenty per- sons. Nevertheless, and here we see our brother’s spiritual integrity, and his stern, unfaltering fidelity to his own mind and to the work to which he had consecrated himself, he prepared his sermons, each successive week, with as much thoroughness and care as if he had known that multitudes would be present to hear and admire. Any one can labor with right good-will who is surrounded with troops of friends, and whose labors are crowned with suc- cess ; but to work on in comparative solitude, and to work as well as if the eyes of a world were upon him, — it takes a man, a Christian man, to do that. But though the regular audience was never large, there were men in it of profound and active minds, and a few noble, devout women, who received im- pressions which cannot be effaced while their minds MEMOIR. xliii are in being, and who will always hold him, who never failed to bring to the temple service pure in- cense and beaten oil, in grateful remembrance as a mental and spiritual benefactor. Our brother was conscious that, notwithstanding his outward success was small, he had not labored in vain ; but after two years’ residence, he came to the conclusion that it was not expedient for him to remain longer. His friends regretted that he felt it his duty to leave, but the reasons which presented themselves to his mind were decisive to him, and he bade them farewell. And now the world is again before him, and he goes forth to labor wherever Providence may direct. Though disappointed as to visible results in Nash- ville, he is not despondent. The spirit which ani- mates him is revealed in these words from his jour- nal : “ So closes my last evening at Nashville. Two years and one month since I came here; — time spent laboriously, but profitably to me, and usefully to others. Some good has been done, and a future lies before me, should I live, as promising as at any period of my life.” After leaving Nashville, Mr. Taggart journeyed for a while. He passed two Sabbaths at Louisville, and two at Cincinnati, where he preached both in the Unitarian and Universalist churches. He then went down the Ohio, spent one Sabbath at Cannel- ton, and thenyvent to St. Louis, where he attended, with great interest, the second session of “ The West- ern Conference of Unitarian Churches.” Thence he returned to Louisville, passed up the Ohio to Pitts- xliv MEMOIR. burg, where he made a brief visit, then went to Washington, D. C., and thence to Boston to attend the anniversary meetings. He spent a few weeks there, preached June 5th and 12th, and then went to Charleston, S. C., in acceptance of an urgent invita- tion to officiate in the Unitarian church during the illness of its esteemed pastor, Rev. Hr. Gilman. On June 19th, 1853, he commenced his services in the city which was thenceforward to be his home. In his previous visits his preaching had awakened great interest, and the interest now felt in his ministra- tions was so deep and so general in the congregation, that, on the 23d of October, a cordial invitation was given to him to become associate pastor. The invitation was accepted, and he entered upon his work with great earnestness. His preaching was listened to with profound attention by that intelli- gent and highly-cultivated congregation, and friends gathered around him who were bound to him as by hooks of steel. But alas ! disease had already marked him for its own. He had on the 24th day of November a violent hemorrhage from his lungs. On the 28th, he .left home for a brief visit to Nashville and Louisville, in the latter of which cities he preached, Decem- ber 4th, two powerful sermons, the one on u Retri- bution,” the other on u Untimely Death.” He then returned to Charleston, where he preached, De- cember 18th, and where he continued to preach once every Sunday until February 12th; and even on that day he preached in the afternoon, though MEMOIR. xlv a severe hemorrhage had compelled him to leave the Sunday School in the morning. This constant preaching was regarded by many of his friends as imprudent; but he was firmly of the opinion, in which he was confirmed by some physicians, that speaking did not injure him. He concluded, however, at the urgent solicitations of friends, to cease from his labors for a while, and to visit the island of Cuba. He sailed February 15th, 1854. His visit he en- joyed exceedingly, notwithstanding his weak and precarious condition. His mind was all alive. Noth- ing of interest, within his reach, escaped his atten- tion. One in the fulness of health could scarcely have seen and learned more than he saw and learned, in regard to the natural features of the island, and also in regard to its social state. The following ex- tracts from his journal not only disclose to us his mental activity, but permit us to go behind the veil, and see the pure, grateful, reverential feelings which, like vestal virgins, ministered at the altar of his soul, and kept the flame of devotion ceaselessly burning. “ Wednesday, 22d, 7 A. M. Walked to ferry and crossed the bay. Walked three quarters of a mile back, and ascended a considerable eminence, from which the whole city, and several miles of the country on every side, were spread out before me as a map. For the moment I felt devoutly and profoundly grateful for my own existence, and for the enjoyment of the glorious scene, in the midst of which I stood. While in the distance I saw the peasant working in his field, or sitting beneath his e xlvi MEMOIR. fruit-laden palm-trees, on the other side appeared in the clear sunlight the glistening walls, domes, towers, and palaces of Havana, all protected by the mas- sive fortifications of the Cabana and Moro Castle. Among the ships, and along the shores of the bay, and down far below me in this suburb of the city, I could see moving thousands of human beings. Yet here I stood alone , .with nature and God to hold communion. This hour was one of the marked hours of my life, into which immeasurable depths of its enjoyment have been crowded. It appeared as if the loveliest summer scene of Carolina had been just presented, — the middle of February set forward into the middle of June.” “ Thursday, 23d. As yesterday morning, when alone amidst the wild luxuriance of vegetation which has overgrown the ruins of the old fortification on which I stood, — as I there, under the cloudless sky, involuntarily or irresistibly bowed my body to the ground in deep emotion and unspeakable gratitude to the Author of my life, and expressed my earnest de- sire for a yet longer life of usefulness to my fellow- man and virtuous labor in the cause of truth, — so this morning, as fresher and more vigorous blood seemed to circulate throughout my system, I again bowed body and soul in gratitude and hope to the Disposer of all things, and arose calmer, firmer, and with stronger faith than for weeks before.” And thus he speaks when on the steamship which is to bear him home: — “March 21st. The view from the deck of the Isabel was beautiful, and I MEMOIR. xlvii experienced the most comfortable and refreshing emotions at being once more on the vessel in which I hope to return to home, and friends, and work, and duty, and enjoyment. The view from the vessel of the Alemada, the Caba'as, the vessels in the clear waters of the bay, the American flags floating from the Black Warrior, the Fulton, and other American ships and steamers, the sun’s last rays gilding the palm-crowned mountain-tops around the harbor, all together formed a scene as beautiful as human eye need wish to look upon. All was so calm, and every object softened by the approaching twilight, that it seemed more picture-like than real. It was more worthy of the name than many of the scenes which I have heard even from the pulpit described as Heaven. Still I rejoiced at feeling that I was so soon to leave it all behind me, most probably for ever. There is some one place and one work for each and every one of us. That place is our home , that work constitutes our happiness, and our first duty is to find that place and enter upon that work. Heaven assist me to know my sphere, and to fulfil faithfully its duties!” And thus he gives utterance to his feelings, Wed- nesday evening, March 22d : — “8 F. M. The night is glorious, every star in the sky appearing distinctly in its brightness, — Orion, the Pleiades, and other constellations looking as calmly down upon our speck of earth, as serenely, as when they looked upon the Egypt of the Pharaohs, the Jerusalem of Solomon, the Mount Nebo of Moses, the Athens of Solon, or the Pome of Julius Caesar. xlviii MEMOIR. ‘ I love the stars, — their solemn light Hath o’er my soul a mystic charm ; ’T is not their splendor on the robe of night, — Ah, no ! ’t is their eternal calm.’ ” He reached home on March 25th. On the follow- ing day he preached once. He took a very inter- esting part in the dedication services of the new church, April 2d. To avoid the sharpness of the sea air, on the 17th of this month he went to Aiken, where he spent two weeks, returning, however, on Saturdays, to take part in the Sunday services. Regarding it as his duty to avail himself of every means which gave encouraging promise of resto- ration, or even of relief, he sailed on the 19th of July for New York, to try Hr. Hunter’s system of inha- lation. While absent he visited Montreal, which city had always had deep interest for him, but to' which he now felt drawn by that powerful, mys- terious magnetism which often attracts one to the place of his birth when the hour approaches in which he is to depart from earth. On the 30th of August he sailed from New York for home. He reached Charleston on Saturday, September 2d, “ grateful and happy ” in his return. He preached once on the next day, and once on every Sunday, with one exception, until October 15th, when he entered the church for the last time. On that day, to quote the words of a devoted friend, H. S. Griggs, Esq., “ he was very feeble ; but in obedience to duty, as he thought, he preached in the afternoon an eloquent discourse, in which he re- MEMOIR. xlix viewed a Report on Foreign Missions by some dis- tinguished clergyman of the Orthodox Church, in reference to the salvation of the heathen. It was a bold, startling, and original discourse, and was de- livered in a very loud tone of voice, though he in- formed me on Friday morning last, when I watched with him, that he was so weak when he rose in the pulpit that he trembled from head to foot ; but, said he, 4 after I had spoken a few minutes, Richard was himself again, and I could have preached an hour longer.’ Such was his indomitable will, when he had determined on his purpose.” During the following week he suffered keen pain, and his strength diminished very rapidly. On Fri- day he showed signs of delirium, on Saturday he became unconscious, and continued so until a short time before his death, when, to use again his friend’s words, “ he had a convulsion. We then thought it was the end ; he opened his eyes, which had been all day covered with the film of death. In an instant they became clear and bright, while his face seemed mantled with that smile with which he was accustomed to meet his friends. He looked around from one to another of the friends he loved so dearly, as one who had awaked from a dream ; his eye finally rested on Mrs. G., then on me, and I thought there was a look of recognition. Then he closed them again, and so continued for about three quarters of an hour, until without a struggle his spirit passed into the unseen world of glory, Sunday, 22d instant, at three quarters past five o’clock, P. M. e 1 MEMOIR. “ Such was the closing scene of his brilliant and brief life, ‘brief when counted by his years, but how long when measured by his achievements!’ Had he lived, he was destined to accomplish much good, especially among that class of educated, think- ing men who glide into the dark sea of infidelity, because they never have anything but dogmatic theology, with sterile, rigid, and cold deductions, preached to them. “ On Monday afternoon his remains were carried to the church he so much loved, where his coffin remained open until the funeral services were com- menced, in order that his devoted friends might look their last look upon that face which we shall see no more on earth. Every demonstration of respect was paid to his memory. His body was robed in his gown, and laid in a coffin covered with black broadcloth ; on the lid was a silver plate, inscribed with his name and age. Around the plate, was a votive wreath composed of white rosebuds and arbor- vitae ; below this was a beautiful cross composed of the same, both of them the offerings of woman, ‘ the last at the cross and the first at the sepulchre.’ The funeral anthem and hymns were exquisitely sung and played. Dr. Gilman’s eulogy was chaste, touching, and truthful, giving a fair estimate of character and talents, and lamenting his premature death. After the funeral service his body was borne by his most intimate friends to the grave, where it was deposited in a new brick vault, a few yards from the chancel-door of the church. This spot will MEMOIR. li ever be sacred to his friends. Here they will often linger on the Sabbath, while memory sheds a tear over departed worth.” The estimation in which our brother was held by the people to whom he ministered is shown in “The Proceedings of the Unitarian Church in Charles- ton, in Reference to the Death of Rev. Charles Man son Taggart. “ At a meeting of the congregation of the Unitarian Church, held on Sunday morning last, after service, for the purpose of giving expression to their sentiments in relation to the death of their late lamented Junior Pastor, on motion, Dr. James Moultrie was called to the Chair, and George Wm. Logan, Esq. was requested to act as Secretary. “ The Chairman introduced the proceedings by a few appropriate remarks on the sad event which called them together, whereupon the following Preamble and Resolu- tions were offered by Henry S. Griggs, Esq. ; and being seconded by Samuel Gilman, D.D.,they were unanimously adopted, and ordered to be published in all the daily papers of the city. “ Whereas it has pleased Almighty God to remove from the scene of his earthly labors our beloved friend and brother, the Rev. Charles Manson Taggart, Junior Pastor of this Church ; and whereas this congregation was deeply impressed with a sense of his eminent ability, earnestness, and holiness as a preacher and exponent of the truths of Liberal Christianity, with his fervent piety as a Christian minister, and with his purity of heart and conscientiousness as a man : therefore, be it Resolved, That, as a congregation of Unitarian Chris- tians, we deeply lament his premature death, and humble lii MEMOIR. ourselves under this afflictive dispensation of Divine Prov- idence, praying that this sad event may be sanctified to our good as a Christian church. “ Resolved , That, as an outward demonstration of our sincere, heartfelt sorrow for his loss, the interior of our place of worship be clad in mourning for the space of six months. u Resolved, That a committee of three be appointed to obtain a suitable plan for a monument to be erected over the spot, in our cemetery, where his mortal remains repose, and also for a tablet to be placed in the vestibule of the church, and that the same committee receive the offerings of the congregation towards these objects. 44 Resolved , That this Church will endeavor to carry out the views expressed in the dying request of our lamented friend, in regard to the publication of his sermons, not only because it will afford us peculiar pleasure to gratify his wishes, but because we believe that the eloquent lessons of honor to God and love for our fellow-men with which these effusions of his lofty and benevolent spirit abound, will tend to hasten the coming of that blessed day, in the certain advent of which he so confidently believed, 4 when,’ to use his own forcible language, 4 God, our Father, shall be truly worshipped, and man, our brother, shall be truly loved.’ 44 Resolved , That the Secretary of this Corporation for- ward a copy of these proceedings to his relatives, with the assurance of our sympathy and condolence in their bereave- ment. 44 Resolved , That another copy of the same be sent to the Meadville Theological School, at Meadville, Penn., of which he was a graduate, with offerings of our condolence for the early loss of one who, had his life been prolonged, would no doubt have shed lustre on his Alma Mater.” MEMOIR. liii The following is the inscription upon the tablet in the vestibule of the church : — This Tablet is erected by the Congregation of this Church in affectionate remembrance of the late Rev.* CHARLES MANSON TAGGART, their Junior Pastor ; who was born in Montreal, Canada, Oct. 31, 1821, and died in this city, on the 22d Oct. 1853, at the early age of 33 years. I As a Minister of the Gospel, he was eminently distinguished for the earnestness and eloquence with which he advocated a system of practical and liberal Christianity, based upon the simple, pure, and beautiful teachings of Jesus of Nazareth — the Christ — the anointed Messenger of God the Father ; while at the same time he evinced great originality and boldness in attacking the narrow creeds of sectarianism, the inventions of men. As a Christian, he exhibited the most fervent piety towards God, and the most comprehensive charity for his fellow-men ; ever inculcating in his public and private teachings the paternity of God, and the brotherhood of man. “ We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths ; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. He most lives Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.” liv MEMOIR. Thus early ended the life of this beloved brother, a life of rare intensity, and one which has left in- effaceable impressions upon many minds and hearts. It was a life which had its full share of trials and perplexities. But though our friend keenly felt the saddening circumstances of his lot, — his early and entire separation, as far as theological opinions were concerned, from nearest relatives, — his compara- tive isolation and want of sympathy, — he was not an unhappy man. He did not gloomily brood over the difficulties of his condition, he did not stop to ask himself whether he was happy or not, but earnestly gave himself up to the work before him, and the accomplishment of that work became more and more the great, engrossing purpose of his being. His absorption in his work, the power which he possessed of going at will into the realm of mind and living there companionless, — no, not com- panionless, for he had the presence of his own grand thoughts, and the sublime thoughts of the wise and good, a right noble company, — and his self-reliance, the distinguishing characteristic of the bold and in- dependent thinker, made him less dependent than men of less originality upon external means of happiness. And there were sources of happiness open to him which more and more poured out their rich stream. During the last few years, con- stantly, as he came to be understood and appre- ciated, friends increased around him and drew near unto him. Firmer, more genuine friends man never had ; for he employed no arts to gain friendship, but MEMOIR. lv was always true to himself, and the friends who came, came because of their respect for his intellect- ual power, his loyalty to truth, and his unreserved devotion to his great work. The love of those friends moved his heart to its very depths, and for those who, in the days of comparative friendlessness, had had the privilege of extending to him the hand of affection, he never ceased to express the warmest gratitude. Happiness, too, he found, pure and abid- ing, in his communion with the Heavenly Father, towards whom his love and reverence daily grew in intensity and in depth, and in the influence of the religion of God’s well-beloved Son, whose words were to him indeed words of eternal life, and whose religion, in its purity and transparency, its freedom from human alloy, its genuine piety, its heavenly benevolence, its jealous regard for the liberty of the individual mind, was to him man’s only hope for the present world, his only guaranty of immor- tality. Such were the sources of mental and spiritual happiness open to our friend, and we are not sur- prised that, having these, he was not cast down in sadness and gloom, even when the ominous cough announced to him, at the time when the early clouds had passed away, and life had become fairest, most beautiful, that he must leave the place of his earthly abode. Very pleasant was that place to him, very enthusiastic the friendship which glad- dened his heart and animated his hopes; intensely interesting were the labors to which his whole being lvi MEMOIR. was consecrated, fast-coming and exhaustless the large and noble thoughts which sought expression through his lips and pen ; but too deep was his reverence for the Lord of creation to permit a murmur when the angel came to summon him hence. And so he lived, labored, and preached up to the very end, his life losing none of its intensity and earnestness until he was prostrated on the dying bed ; and there, as we have seen, he remained but for a few days, and then passed on to that higher life for which his earthly existence had been a constant preparation, and which, he confidently believed, — regarding death as but an incident in being, — would prove, in all essential features, a continuation on a higher plane, and with vastly greater opportunities and powers of development, of the mental, moral, and spiritual life begun and continued here. Life is the manifestation of character. Such a life as the one we are contemplating reveals a char- acter of no ordinary kind. Our brother had a char- acter of his own. It was marked by courage and decision. The thinking for himself in early youth upon subjects of deepest importance, the coming to conclusions different from those held by the friends whom nature had bound to him by closest ties, the honesty which prompted him to avow those conclu- sions, however painful the consequences of avowal might be, the willingness to make his unaided way through life, — all this indicates a character of rare decision and independence. The independence so early manifested characterized him to the close of his MEMOIR. lvii earthly existence. He thought for himself, he acted for himself. He acknowledged no responsibility for his religious opinions to any body of men, to any system of theology. He felt that he was responsi- ble alone to God and Christ. Christian liberty, the unfettered freedom of the mind, was to him of ines- timable value. As St. Paul held fast to the glorious liberty of the sons of God ; as he protested against every endeavor of Judaizing believers to narrow the Christian platform, to fetter the individual mind ; as he would not for the sake of policy or of peace yield an inch, even to St. Peter, when he seemed ready in some measure to compromise the freedom where- with Paul felt that Christ has made his followers free ; so our brother clung with utmost tenacity to the freedom in which his soul rejoiced, which he felt that God designed as the birthright of every soul, and in which alone Christianity could achieve its perfect triumph. He came to the study of the Bi- ble as a perfectly free man. He studied it for him- self and by himself, and the conclusions which he reached as to its teachings he expressed with perfect openness, with entire unreserve. He never stopped to ask whether his conclusions harmonized or not with the popular theology, or even with the theology of that class of Christians — the Unitarian — with whom he was intimately associated, and whom he warmly loved. Sufficient unto him was it, that he believed them to be right, to be accordant with truth. In the exercise of this mental freedom, he came to conclusions on various points different from those / lviii MEMOIR. commonly held; as, for instance, upon the original unity of the race. So, too, upon the vexed question of slavery, he held opinions not shared by a large portion of his Unitarian brethren, some of whom may have thought that a Southern residence had unduly biassed his mind. Of course no finite mind exists which may not unconsciously be influenced by surrounding circumstances ; but the man never lived w’ho was less inclined than our brother to trim or modify opinions so as to make them acceptable to the community in which he lived. His opinions upon this, as upon every other subject, were his own, honestly formed and candidly avowed. As religious liberty, so Christian union, held a high place in the mind of our brother, the first being regarded by him as the pre-requisite, the essential condition of the other. Without perfect liberty, he felt that there could be no union, and no union did he desire except the genuine, manly, honest union in spirit of men who may differ widely in opinion. The passage of Scripture which oftener perhaps than any other was quoted by him, and which he desired that every body of Christians might adopt as its motto, was, “ The unity of the spirit in the bond of peace.” Such seemed to him union according to the apostolic, the Christian standard, the only real and enduring union. Union upon any other basis he thought as frail, as foundationless, as the house built upon the sand. It was because of its irreconcilableness with the great ideas of Christian liberty and Christian union, MEMOIR. lix as well as because of its dark and gloomy features, that our brother regarded Calvinism with utter aver- sion. It was to him' a cold, gloomy, terrible system. By it the Universal Father was converted into a stern, unjust despot, the embodiment of supreme selfishness, who, arbitrarily and without regard to the eternal distinction between right and wrong, selected a portion of his creatures for ineffable bliss, and doomed the other portion to ineffable and hope- less woe. He felt that the system was directly at variance with justice; that it confused and weakened men’s sense of moral responsibility ; that it made righteousness technical and artificial, instead of per- sonal, to be thrown over man as a cloak rather than to be formed within him, — the life of God in the soul of man ; that it made retribution indiscriminating, and therefore robbed it of power; that it was un- favorable to the development of tender, affectionate feeling; and that its influence upon the cause of religion was disastrous in the extreme, causing many sensitive, conscientious minds which received it to become anxious and unhappy, and driving many a bold spirit, which would not receive.it, to irreligion and atheism. Some of us, while our hearts beat in unison with his, and while we heartily joined with him in reject- ing Calvin’s stern system, felt that probably his utter aversion to it had driven him to the far ex- treme, and had led him somewhat to overlook or not to attach full importance to that feature of the Gospel which, to Augustine and all who like him lx MEMOIR. have had fearful conflicts with sin, is the characteris- tic, distinguishing feature, and which has led them in their theological systems to represent Christianity as exclusively a remedial scheme, having reference alto- gether and only to sin and pardon. But however this might be, we knew that he was perfectly true to his own convictions, and that he always spoke in regard to the Calvinistic or any other system of theology as he felt that Christianity bade him speak. In proportion to the strength and depth of his aversion to Calvinism was his love for that system which presents religion with bright and winning aspect. Through its influence, he felt that he had been prevented from losing himself in the cheerless region of distrust and disbelief. To him it was life and light, freedom to his mind and hope to his heart. It dispelled the cloud which had hidden the divine loveliness from view, and revealed God as a friend and Father. It filled his breast with love and gratitude to the Saviour, and caused him to repose with unwavering trust in the assurance of immor- tality. It strengthened his conviction in the omnip- otence of truth, and gave him heart and hope to labor for its diffusion. Under its influence, his mind put forth its noblest powers, his soul reverently went to the throne of infinite love, and the warmest affec- tions of his heart lovingly attended it there. “ How he loved,” to quote again from the friend who has given us the affecting account of the closing scenes, “ to dwell upon the exalted themes of God’s eternal love and justice, and of strict retribution for every MEMOIR. lxi sin, thus awakening a sense of personal responsi- bility ! How he loved to preach Jesus, to hold up his spotless example for imitation ! How much he dwelt upon the central point of true Christianity, — charity, human brotherhood! How clearly defined were his views of the future life, how vividly he brought his arguments home to the comprehension of his hearers, until it became no longer a specu- lation, but a reality, separated only by the thin par- tition of the event, — death ! How great was his moral courage in defence of truth, sometimes, by his enthusiasm, giving offence to those who differed with him, while those who knew him best knew that he plead the cause of humanity ; he had worn the galling yoke, and now enjoyed that freedom wherewith Christ had made him free, and his anxiety to make others happy dictated his earnest- ness in the cause of Liberal Christianity. How fer- vent and childlike were his devotions, — no effort to clothe his thoughts in language for the ear of the critic, but the simple outpourings of the heart, lifting his hearers with him on the wings of prayer, till they felt themselves near, very near, the Father’s mercy- seat! How often have I seen the large tears roll down his cheeks while engaged in his devotions, his own sufferings drawing him by the cords of sym- pathy to the sufferer, when such needed the help of Omnipotence ! ” Grateful for the influence through which, as he felt, dark and obscuring clouds had been removed, and the Gospel had been permitted to shine in all its lxii MEMOIR. brilliancy, rejoicing in the light which illumined his pathway, our brother longed with unutterable yearn- ing to have others brought under the same influence and enabled to enjoy the same heavenly radiance. To this end he labored with an energy, a concen- trated earnestness, which perhaps exhausted his physical strength and facilitated the progress of his disease, but which, for the time, seemed to hold disease and death at bay, and made every hour, almost to the closing, an hour of intense life, and caused every word and every act to tell. Using the term in no narrow or technical way, but giving to it a broad and generous interpretation, we may say that his was a proselyting spirit; for, while he held sacred the freedom of other minds as well as of his own, he regarded it as his duty on all fitting occa- sions, and in every right way, to present with clear- ness and explicitness the views which were dear to him, and to advocate them with all his power. He would have scorned himself had he shrunk in any presence from avowing and defending his faith. That faith was to him a heavenly friend, whose cheering voice had animated his heart, whose upward-pointing finger had guided his steps until he had reached the high table-land where his eye had unlimited range, and his soul exulted in the liberty of the sons of God. To the service of that faith he consecrated himself, in the spirit of Chris- tian chivalry, living, thinking, acting, as became a missionary of a liberal, and, in his estimation, a truly evangelical Christianity. MEMOIR. lxiii Thus he lived and labored. He lived ! Heaven be praised that we are permitted to say he is still living, — living to God and Christ, living in the enjoyment of that immortal existence for which his life here was a constant preparation, and in which his mind will be for ever advancing in all true knowl- edge, and his soul will enjoy the companionship of the spirits of the just made perfect, of all earnest, faithful men, who, though widely separated on earth in creed and form, had the law of truth in their mouths, the love of truth in their hearts, and whom the God of truth will accept and bless for ever and ever! DISCOURSE I. RELIGION A LIFE, NOT A SPECIAL EXPERIENCE. IF THE PROPHET HAD BID THEE DO SOME GREAT THING, WOULDEST THOU NOT HAYE DONE IT? 2 Kings V. 13. Afflicted with a disease which was probably- regarded by the Syrian, no less than by the Hebrew, as a special mark of divine displeasure, Naaman, the Syrian officer, sought relief from Elisha, the prophet, on the suggestion of a Hebrew maiden who had been taken as a captive. Regarding the leprosy as a judgment from some one of the Syrian deities, offended by some acts of his own or of his ancestors, Naaman probably expected some striking display of power from the God of the Hebrews. This expectation may have been founded on the imagined hostility of the national God of the He- brews to the national* or local deities of Syria. The compliment which Naaman viewed himself as offer- ing to the Hebrew Deity, he supposed would elicit from Jehovah a special, instantaneous, and brilliant display of divine favor in his behalf. His high- wrought expectations were painfully disappointed, 1 2 RELIGION A LIFE, and he impatiently turned away, in contempt and anger, when Elisha offered him the simple and nat- ural direction, “ Go and wash in Jordan seven times, and thou shalt be clean.” Natural laws were not suspended ; the Hebrew Deity made no marked ex- hibition of favor in his behalf ; he was only directed to test the healing efficacy of the stream of Jordan. “ Lo ! ” said the Syrian in his rage, “ I surely thought this prophet would come forth to me, and striking his hand upon me, heal me instantly, while calling on the name of Israel’s God, Jehovah. Wash me in the Jordan ! Are not Abana and Pharpar, waters of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel ? If washing is to cleanse me, may I not wash in them, and be healed of my leprosy?” But as his wrath subsided, and a milder mood admitted of reflection, a servant or friend sincerely interested in Naaman’s welfare, drawing near, said, in a friend- ly spirit : “ My father, if the prophet had bid thee do some great thing , wouldest thou not have done it ? how much rather then obey, when he only says, 1 Wash, and be clean’ ? ” This narrative of the Sy-* rian leper may be viewed as illustrating in some respects the opinions of many men with respect to religion and life. It is never gratifying to dwell upon the differences among Christians, and the alleged importance of each peculiar doctrine in the estimation of its spe- cial friends. How pleasing would it be to gain the assent of all to* some grand, controlling, practical rule, which would smooth down all the roughnesses of the way, along which, in this present and real life, we are compelled to walk together, whether ■f / NOT A SPECIAL EXPERIENCE. 3 kindly or unkindly, as mutual helpers or mutual op- ponents, retarding or promoting our common prog- ress. Could the attention of nominal Christians be attracted to, and concentrated upon, some catalogue of obvious and acknowledged duties, — such duties as demand immediate and entire attention, — sec- tarian dissensions would soon cease, and society would speedily assume another, a more gratifying and more hopeful aspect. But human imagination always has been active, and, when unrestrained by immediate realities, it has usually tended to throw the mind forward, beyond present realities, into that which is unseen and only possible. What seems most of all to be wanted in the world is something which might be in reality, if not in name, a Philosophy of pife, - — some principle of general application, so clearly defined, so rational, so solid, and so comprehensive, as to command at once the assent of every sound and reflecting mind. We have religions enough, doctrines enough, and philosophies enough, but no one of them, nor all of them combined, as yet has furnished a practical and acceptable philosophy of life. We have natural philosophies, and mental philosophies, and moral philosophies, and all these, though valuable, and in- dispensable in their respective spheres, do not sup- ply the whole demand. We have philosophies of the future life too, but these do not supply the world’s present want. They all start with some assumed original or primitive condition of man’s spiritual nature, and, at one vast leap, they pass to the final destiny of man’s spiritual nature, — leaving the whole interval of real, active existence here in 4 RELIGION A LIFE, darkness unilluminated and mystery unexplained. Then we have philosophies of human nature too ; but these do not supply the want, for they are all sectarian or theological. They are not philosophies, but only theories, connected with, and a part of, some theology. They originate in, and are based upon, some proposition in some creed or catechism, — some man’s or some church’s interpretation of the Bible. They all ask, and they all attempt to an- swer, these two questions : Whence came man ? Whither does man go ? And the reply to both seems only a conjecture, for there is no uniform and ac- knowledged interpretation, either of nature or of Scripture. Yet common observation proves, that each and every particular interpretation is by the intellect transformed into spiritual nutriment, and the most fanciful theory appears to be converted by faith into a spiritual reality; — showing the power of mind to transmute poison into food, or at least to extract the sweetness of honey from the bitter- ness of aloes. But in conjecturing something as to whence came man’s life, and whither goes man’s life, the great interval -is overlooked, leaving unpropounded and unanswered the only determinable question, What is man’s life ? Would he be esteemed a judicious instructor, who should teach his pupils that their principal duty is to wonder, meditate, and speculate on what they shall be, and how they shall feel, when they become men ? Since, speculate and wonder as they may, children never can foresee where they may be, nor what may be their feelings, ten or twenty years in NOT A SPECIAL EXPERIENCE. 5 advance of their actual experience, the obvious duty of the teacher is, to develop in his pupils their actual capacities, instructing them in a knowledge of themselves, and the nature and use of things imme- diately around them. This, not only because it would be the very best means of fitting them for virtue, success, and usefulness wheresoever they might be in manhood, but because this would be manifestly in harmony with the true design of their youthful existence, — because such instruction and knowledge would be the necessary means and in- dispensable conditions of true enjoyment, even in their youthful life, though they should never reach the maturity of manhood. The child who is taught to perplex himself in fancying where and what he may be in the maturity of his years, however favorably situated he may find himself on actually attaining manhood, can find in this no recompense for the time misspent, the anxiety endured, and the happiness lost, during his earlier years, which were passed in dreamy wonderings, profitless conjectur- ings, and painful solicitudes as to the possibilities of his position and employment in the years then far before him. Why then should the mature man neglect his mental culture, weaken his energies, and diminish his actual happiness at present, by dwell- ing on the possibilities of his locality or his employ- ment in a remote and now necessarily incompre- hensible eternity? We see how much of the pulpit discourse, and most of the church ceremonies, tend to disjoin religion from common life, as if religion related to the soul only, in the futujre, and not more directly to the whole man here in the present ; — as 1 * 6 RELIGION A LIFE, if religion were a gift from God, rather than a duty of our own, — as if it were a thing to be received, rather than a work to be performed, — as if it were a belief to be professed, instead of an action to be done, — as if religion were a mystery in God to be adored, instead of a revelation in man to be enjoyed. By chiefly looking forward to eternity, and over- looking time, religion has come to be regarded as a special divine grace, mysteriously wrought upon the heart, with sole reference to a final destiny after death. Thus the Church is sought by many, as Naa- man sought the Hebrew prophet, in the hope that some mighty agency may come forth, and by a powerful and instantaneous operation transform the soul from a condition of spiritual leprosy into a condition of spiritual health. They seek temporary excitements and extraordinary experiences. Impa- tient, and even angry, they will turn away from the suggestion of ordinary means to preserve or to re- store spiritual soundness, — as if ordinary means were less real or less divine than miraculous means. “ What! ” say they, “ discharge our daily duties and be religious ! Doing right ! is that religion ? Wash and be clean! be wise! be true! be just! be chari- table ! is this to be religious ? Why, then, seek the Jordan of the Church ? The Abanas and the Phar- pars of truth and holiness may flow through the Damascus of our daily pursuits, and the efficacy of these waters may be equal to that of all the waters of the Sabbath Israel ! ” And they turn away in- dignantly from the naturalness and simplicity of the direction, “ Go tq the stream of Truth, wash in the flowing waters of Virtue, and be cleansed from moral leprosy.” NOT A SPECIAL EXPERIENCE. 7 No ! divine as this is, it is not enough. Some great thing must be done, some storm of emotion must be raised, some astounding change must be experienced, some amazing light must burst upon the mind, or there can be no religion. Should God require them to cross an ocean, or climb a moun- tain, or fight a battle, they are ready. To support a foreign mission, to build a costly church, by pray- er and fasting to mortify the body, to do some great thing, they are ready, — if by that a debt of duty can be cancelled, or a catalogue of sins be blotted out, or the approbation of God be purchased, or a divine curse be averted, or a future heaven se- cured. Apart from all traditions of the past, and all spec- ulations of the future, the plain injunction, “ Cease to do evil and learn to do well,” is too simple, too intelligible, too practicable. That cannot be re- ligion. That is only washing to be clean, and every man can wash. “Ceasing wrong and doing right!” say they. “ Why, there is no mysterious grace, no wondrous plan, no amazing scheme, in that! Every man may cease to do evil and learn to do well.” Yet the ex- pediency of ceasing wrong and doing right, even the necessity of this, as essential to immediate, personal, true enjoyment, is universally admitted. But still it is insisted on, that this is qnly morality, and not religion. Whatever may be meant by morality, nothing but a mind carefully instructed in some de- fined system of religion could contend that this true life of right-doing is not religion. It surely is the Scriptural religion. The only sentence in the Bible 8 •religion a life, which literally describes religion is that of James, who says, “Pure religion before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their af- fliction, and keep yourself unspotted from the world.” In other words, to relieve the wants and promote the welfare of others, and carefully preserve yourself from moral evil, is pure and undefiled religion before God. This is intelligible, direct, and personal. It is not an act of instant submission to some suddenly re- vealed authority ; it is not to receive some irresisti- ble grace ; it is not to make some marked profession of faith before men ; it is not at a given moment to experience some overwhelming emotion ; it is not a mere scrupulous performance of periodical religious rites ; it is not to fight, injure, or destroy some fellow- man, whom you decide to be a wicked enemy of God ; it is not to do some great thing ; it is noth- ing sudden, local, special, extraordinary, or astound- ing. But it is the daily, regular, constant, and inva- riable discharge of ordinary duties, in strict obedi- ence to our moral sense, guided by all the divine and human light we are able to obtain. In other words, religion is ceaseless and useful activity, in grateful love to God, and fraternal love to man. He who thus reveres God and works righteousness, “ in any nation,” be he Jew or Gentile, is emphatically a religious man. The religion which confines itself to Sunday and the Church, to preaching, praying, Bible-reading, and compliance with external rites, is a formal, imperfect, unproductive, and unhappy re- ligion. The grand design of Jesus, in the principles which he propounded and the spirit which he breathed, NOT A SPECIAL EXPERIENCE. 9 was to sanctify all life , to discover to all eyes the divine beauty of perpetual holiness. Not chiefly as a means of rescuing from any condemnation to misery in a life hereafter, — not chiefly as a means of securing happiness in a life to come, — but inde- pendent of any possible suffering, joy, or any condi- tion whatever in any life hereafter as a motive or an object, — he inculcates truth, love, and strict, unde- viating virtue, as the essentials of human, spiritual enjoyment, here in this human life on earth. And we are assured by the whole known or recorded ex- perience of man, that these are the indispensable con- ditions of all that a rational being can call happi- ness. It is just here, at the very starting-point, that I object with emphasis to every church, system, cere- mony, or doctrine, which directs the attention of the human mind first and chiefly to another life, another world beyond the grave. The more care- fully I reflect, the more thoroughly convinced do I become, that the chief end of man’s existence on earth is not to receive something, feel something, or discover something peculiar, with direct reference to his possible condition after ceasing to be visible on earth. There is not a law which Jesus an- nounced, not a duty which he inculcated, not a principle which he exemplified, not a rule which he laid down for human guidance, which does not di- rectly and expressly apply to the personal action or life of the living mortal man on earth, even if whol- ly separate from every idea of reward, punishment, misery, or happiness, in the future, invisible, or spir- itual state. 10 RELIGION A LIFE, I feel the importance of placing this point, if pos- sible, most distinctly before your minds, that it may stand out prominently at all times, as a primary truth, relieving you from all obscure, confused, and double meanings of theological phraseology. Jesus did not propose to save any man from any eternal misery to which he was naturally doomed. He did not propose to secure to any man a right to any eternal heaven from which he was naturally exclud- ed. But he proposed, by his own principles, and character, and spirit, proclaimed in all that he him- self did, and all that happened to him, to teach man how to live , truly, purely, peacefully, perfectly ; and to live always so, leaving not only eternity, the fu- ture, but even to-morrow, even the next hour, to take care of itself, to come as it might, — assured that, in the course of such a life, it could never come unsea- sonably, never could come wrong. His teaching is, Take no anxiety about to-morrow, but perform the duty which lies immediately before you. Live in truth, in love, loyal to your sense of right, now, to- day, and leave to-morrow to make provision for itself. The divinest wisdom marks this instruction. It is the truest philosophy of action. A pure and perfect life, lived and enjoyed to-day, is in fact the completed preparation for every possible life which may come to-morrow, whether it should come on this side or the other side of death. As to comfort merely in the hour of dissolution, all observation proves that every religious faith, Pagan, Jewish, or Christian, is equally efficacious. Every class of religionists, sectarians, and theorists actually finds a sustaining power in its peculiar doc- NOT A SPECIAL EXPERIENCE. 11 trine or belief ; and some of every class imagine they find evidence of truth in that comforting expe- rience at death. What was I before I lived on earth ? what am I to be when I shall cease to live on earth? These are not the first and principal concerns to me. These are not the inquiries demanding my imme- diate thought. But, What am I now? what are now my capabilities ? and how can these capabili- ties be best improved ? These are the all-important points to be determined. These determined correct- ly, then as to the future all my solicitudes are at an end. You are well aware, that Christianity is re- garded by many of the good and wise who study it, as a scheme, a plan, or expedient, having reference originally and exclusively to the final condition of human souls in another world. This I think is a very sad mistake. The constant direction of the mind towards the unseen existence occasions the neglect of immediate duties, retards the present mental and moral progress of the man, diminishing greatly and unnecessarily the sum of present human happiness, by painful anxieties which weaken the moral energies, and which in any event cannot be supposed to increase our qualifications for any con- dition in eternity. He who gratefully regards this world which he beholds, as now the important place of his existence, and gives himself heartily to the development of all his own faculties, laboring for the amelioration of his fellow-men, — in that devel- opment and effort finding cheerful, rational, and pure enjoyment as he passes on, can be affected by no fears of the future, save those implanted by early miseducation, or reflected from a common supersti- tion. 12 RELIGION A LIFE, “ He that humbleth himself as this little child,” said Jesus, “the same is greatest among you.” This expression embraces a vast depth of mean- ing. The little child entertains no fear of death. It knows no traditions of a fall , a curse, or an angry Deity. Dissolution has no terrors for its spirit. Yet in the present imperfect knowledge of the laws of life among mankind the child often dies. It dies, having complied with no special terms of faith, hav- ing shown no special experience of grace, having done no great thing. Its moral condition is that of all of us at a corresponding period of life. Thus it is manifest that we learn to do wrong, that we learn to fear , as we grow in years, moulded by the theo- ries which surround us, and, perhaps, living all our lifetime under bondage to the fear of death. How- ever angular and iron-bound their theology, however their creeds may tyrannize over their intellects, but few will dare to say that any child who dies is doomed to a final misery in consequence of a fall or act of Adam, or of any man, ages before the child existed. Neither have we any ground for the pre- sumption, that the child’s spirit is instantly trans- formed, by omnipotent power, into that maturity which would qualify it for the enjoyment of a heaven adapted to the ripest intellects which pass from earth. The only reasonable supposition, if* we must sup- pose at all, is that, immediately following death, the spirit of the child is still the spirit of a child. It is not a man, nor an angel, nor a seraph, nor a cherub ; but simply the unperverted, unstained, undeveloped spirit of a child. In the spiritual state, it begins its spiritual unfolding, at the stage from which it quit- NOT A SPECIAL EXPERIENCE. 13 ted its bodily existence, and continues a progressive life of purity, in obedience to divine laws of spirit- ual being, — its enjoyment corresponding with its true capacities. Let man then restore himself as far as possible to the condition of the little child, seeking only, and ex- pecting only, truth, wisdom, and love, — unrestrained and undepressed by traditions of a cursed and fall- en nature, unembarrassed by groundless terrors and empty speculations concerning remote and eternal possibilities. Let him increase his knowledge of himself, and of the great sphere of surrounding na- ture, thus accomplishing the true object of his exist- ence, by enjoying the happiness of a rational and moral being. The mature man will then leave this world tranquilly and fearlessly as the child leaves it, and continue his spiritual existence according to his spiritual development. Such, as I conceive, is the childlike humility which Jesus inculcated, and not a mere servile, cringing homage, which expects to con- ciliate the all-perfect God by resigning itself to what it may please to style “ the mysterious ways of Provi- dence.” In such an energetic, truly humble career on earth, there seems to be something like a philos- ophy of life. Let no one seek for remarkable experiences of emotion, or mental excitement, as evidence of relig- ious change, or divinely communicated grace. For nothing is easier than to produce such experiences by the use of common and well-known expedients. Every church can produce them, and nearly every form of faith does produce them, and actually fan- cies that it finds in them divine confirmation of its 2 14 RELIGION A LIFE, peculiar creed. This presumption, therefore, can only be regarded as a very sorrowful self-deception. God never contradicts himself, truth never contra- dicts itself. Religion is never at war with common duties. However you may distinguish, you never can sepa- rate religion from morality. Every human being has his course of duties to perform, however narrow or extended may be the sphere in which he moves. The exercise of many virtues is required in all our commonest relations, and uniformly and truly to exercise these virtues is to be religious. So essen- tial are benevolent actions, honest purposes, and pure affections, to our real temporal happiness, that no special experience of religion, nor any creed or faith which we can embrace respecting the soul’s final destiny, can render them indispensable. You may seek the man, (and he is not difficult to find, for there are many such, both in society at large and in the churches,) who, from conflicting and shocking views of the future, or from any cause, loses all faith in the existence of the soul at all, after the event of dissolution, and with that man every virtuous affection, virtuous purpose, and virtu- ous action is just as essential to his personal im- provement and temporal enjoyment, as it is to the temporal happiness of the most undoubting believer, not only in a future existence of the soul, but even in eternal rewards and punishments. This is pre- cisely what I would impress indelibly upon every mind, namely, the universal necessity of a strictly religious spirit, in all the relations and all the trans- actions of a social being, as the only terms of per- NOT A SPECIAL EXPERIENCE. 15 sonal progress and temporal enjoyment, apart from every creed concerning man’s nature, and from every theory concerning the final destiny of the soul. The most decided disbelief in the soul’s existence after death cannot alter in the least these immutable conditions. So that it is obviously one of the plain- est mistakes which a man can make, to suppose that any creed he can adopt respecting hell or heaven after death can either suspend or abrogate the natu- ral laws of his present being, the invariable terms of his physical and true mental enjoyment. Were this simple truth more generally remembered, I appre- hend there would be infinitely less anxiety to define church creeds respecting the invisible state beyond the tomb. A natural, just, and manly life, lived here, would leave no room in any human bosom concerning anything now hidden in the impenetra- ble future. There is no more absolute necessity for vice and wrong on earth, than there can be in any heaven of which we have a reasonable conception. There is no more absolute necessity for sin and suf- fering on earth, than there can be in a future heaven. Let us wash then, and be clean , — not seeking to do or experience some great thing, but ceasing to do evil, and learning to do well. Let each resolute soul, whatever its measure of faith as to that which lies in the unseen before it, find in this divine world of God a blessing and a joy, a home, and something of a heaven. The call then to another stage of the eternal life, will never come at an unseasonable hour ; the voice of death will never be discordant, but will float like music to the ear of the listening spirit. 16 RELIGION A LIFE. Surely a broader light is breaking on mankind, and a more comprehensive knowledge is destined to sweeten all the bitterness of life, expanding the spirit of selfishness and jealousy into the breadth and warmth of brotherly affection. A searching and sanctified science is revealing the unity which exists in nature’s diversity, the oneness of beauty which arises from the multiplicity of forms, and the moral unity of all human souls. Human freedom and the capacities of mind are great and undeniable facts, and as the great moral interests of man are more and more seen to be similar and common, the flame of fraternal sympathy will burn more brightly, — the gloom which obscure and selfish theologies have thrown round human life will vanish away, — the grand harmonies of God’s beneficence will appear to the eyes of the human understanding, and will sound along through the experience of the soul. We are all discovering that the indispensable condition of present and all progress, of present and all true and pure enjoyment, is the divine and essential ele- ment of human love. DISCOURSE II. A RELIGION TO LIVE BY, THE BEST RELIGION TO DIE BY. BY THEIR FRUITS YE SHALL KNOW THEM. Matt. vii. 20. DELIVER THEM WHO THROUGH FEAR OF DEATH WERE ALL their lifetime subject to bondage. — Hebrews ii. 15. There is a singular attraction round a death-bed at the last hour of a human being’s mortal existence. The departing spirit may be one on whom success has ever smiled, — one whose life has been like a long summer day, only now and then interrupted by passing clouds, leaving ever a brighter sky behind. Or it may be one whose life may seem to have been one great misfortune, one whose attendants appear always to have been disappointment and depriva- tion, toil and tears. But whether one or the other, it is with intense interest, with thrilling anxiety, that we linger round the struggling spirit, when about tc leave the feeble, fainting body. We bend to catch the last whisper, and to mark the last smile of rec- ognition before the eye grows dim, and the lips be- come motionless ; and never, never do we blot from memory the pressure of the cold hand, as for the 2 * 18 A RELIGION TO LIVE BY, last time it falls powerless from our own. These are scenes of every hour’s, every moment’s occur- rence. It is computed, and the computation is quite within the truth, that every second, with every vibra- tion of the pendulum, a spirit leaves its earthly body. Every hour is the dying hour to many, every mo- ment is to some the final moment here. With deep interest we are prone to dwell on the details of incidents which mark the dying hour of those whom we revere, whom we esteem or love. Indeed, a minute description of the last earthly mo- ments of any human being seems to possess a strangely fascinating power. Again and again do we peruse such narratives, till we have fully realized their truth, and then we wonder where - — where the spirit is. What would we then give could we but for an instant draw aside the veil that hangs before the invisible world, and catch a glimpse, the faintest glimpse, of that now unseen exist- ence ! How impatient we become at times to know what we all soon, very soon, shall fully un- derstand ! It is not surprising that we are so prone to as- sociate the last moments of earthly existence with the supposed present condition of the departed spirit. The transition from this to that condition, at its final stage, is to all appearance so easy, so instantaneous, so complete, that it seems scarcely possible to draw even an imaginary line between them. This tendency of the emotions to lead us into a region of pure conjecture has been indulged so generally as to have become a serious abuse, which sober reason rarely pauses to correct. The frequent THE BEST RELIGION TO DIE BY. 19 delineation of death-bed scenes, in sermons and re- ligious writings of every kind, has led and still leads to serious misapprehension. It appears to be an al- most universal feeling, if not belief, that Religion is something designed only for the dying, — a sort of medicine prepared in heaven by Infinite Goodness, to soothe the sufferings of men in the hour of their departure. It is, not unfrequently, deemed conclu- sive -of the value of a form of religious faith, to say that “ it is a good religion by which to live, but a poor religion by which to die.” The scenes of the last hour of some distinguished professing Christian are very frequently described, and urged as evidence of the correctness of his religious views , and almost as frequently urged as indisputable evidence of the divinity of the Christian religion. It is among the most remarkable of things, that Christian writers and Christian ministers fail to perceive the utter futility of all arguments of this nature. For such arguments, if proof at all, prove more, far more, than those who employ them may at a superficial view imagine. Indeed, if they prove anything, they will prove everything, as to religious opinions. No testimony is less to be relied on, as to a man’s real character and life, than the testimony of a dying hour. There have been Christians, and those who nev- er pretended to be Christians, those who never knew of Christianity, whose whole life may be likened to a calm and brilliant day ; — its dawn clear and mild, growing brighter and brighter to its ze- nith, then growing milder and more varied in its beauty, till its last golden light has stolen away, 20 A RELIGION TO LIVE BY, and left survivors wondering at the silent grandeur of its passage. But it is mournfully true, that such lives, like such days, are very few and far be- tween. If, however, the serenity of a dying hour demon- strates the correctness of a man’s religious views, then the doctrines of every religion and of every sect have been proved true, beyond any question. .Every religion and every sect has had its martyrs. Here in our own land, have we not beheld hundreds of the followers of the sincere but visionary prophet Miller, leave their business and their homes and friends, to await the second advent of Jesus, and when death summoned them before they could behold the expected earthly glory, have they not gone joyfully, to all appearance wrapt in ecstatic spiritual visions of the future ? Have we not seen the believers in the Book of Mormon dissolve the most endearing relations, sacrifice their property, forsake the homes of their childhood and the graves of their friends, brave the ocean’s storms and a thou- sand perils, only to lay their bodies among their saints on the shores of the Mississippi ? What experienced minister of any sect, Methodist, Baptist, Presbyterian, Episcopalian, or any other, has not heard the last accents of his dying parish- ioner expressing unshaken confidence in the faith of his fathers? And when the voice has become too feeble to utter words, the dying man has smiled in satisfaction, and passed, apparently with unutterable rapture, into the world of celestial joys. Have not hundreds of Calvinists died rejoicing in the faith that God would alike vindicate his glory THE BEST RELIGION TO DIE BY. 21 by the endless songs of the elect in heaven, and by the endless groans of the condemned in hell? And have not hundreds of Universalists died also rejoicing in the faith that, by a direct exercise of the divine power, all earth’s sorrows would soon be blotted out, and every living soul unite in endless hallelujahs of redeeming love ? Have not thousands of Trinitarians died firmly re- lying on what they called the merits of the Saviour’s death or blood? And have not thousands of Uni- tarians died rejoicing in the spirit of the Saviour’s teachings, and cheered by the consciousness of hav- ing endeavored to imitate the virtue of the Saviour’s holy life ? Have not myriads of Protestants died clasping the Bible to their bosoms, and rejoicing in the ministra- tions of the church which they have chosen? And have not myriads of Roman Catholics died gladly pressing the cross to their pale lips, and breathing a last prayer to the u Blessed Virgin, Mgther of God”? f And what does all this prove as to the correctness of their respective views ? As proof it is entirely destitute of value, — for what equally proves all, proves none, certainly, to be correct. It is my own deliberately expressed conviction, that no one thing has done more, no one thing now does more, to create unnecessary suspicion, and confirm groundless scepticism, than the continual appeals of the pulpit to the death-bed scenes of in- dividuals, as evidence of the truth of particular religious views, or even as -evidence of the divine authority of the Christian religion. 22 A RELIGION TO LIVE BY, For numbers of intelligent men, who either have not the inclination, or do not take the time, to dis- tinguish between Christian truth and Christian creeds, between the Christian spirit and the Christian name, have common perception and common sense enough to perceive that .all such arguments as death- bed scenes present, are mere sound and words, signi- fying nothing, either as to character, religion, or the future. They have probably read accounts of the death scenes of some of the most formidable enemies of Christianity, (that is, of those who confounded Chris- tianity with that around them which called itself Christianity, and against which they contended, on its own ground,) and they have seen men like Hume and Gibbon, (names well known among the oppos- ers of what called itself Christianity,) and others, without Bible, without priest or prayer, without a syllable about religion in their dying hours, in the full possession of their faculties, with serene confi- dence passing from the body, calmly as an infant in its mother’s arms sinks into its evening slumbers. To thoughtful men seeing, knowing all this, what folly to say, as ministers so often do, “ Ah ! you will see your error when you come to die ! ” And moreover, it is no uncommon thing to see Christians of any name, members of any church, men who leave behind them an honored memory, who have striven to live truly by their faith, and who have left lasting monuments of truly Christian excellence, — it is no uncommon thing to see such departing in almost hopeless despondency of mind, and fearful agony of body. THE BEST RELIGION TO DTE BY. 23 “ A man’s life may be all ease, and his death, By some dark chance, unthought-of agony. Or life may be all suffering, and decease A flower-like sleep ; or both be full of woe, Or each, comparatively painless.” Do not the class referred to, — those who judge of Christianity by the practice of its professors, — do they not see Christian ministers offering prayers and preaching sermons in honor of men who have fallen on the field of battle, — some of whom (for it is only just to say that it is not always so) have never made pretensions to religion of any form, under any name, but who spent their last breath in shouts of triumph to urge their fellow-soldiers on to human slaughter, to victory or death ? Do ministers pre- sume men generally to be so obtuse in their percep- tions, as not to discover the gross inconsistency of preaching religion in the church, as something indis- pensable by which to die , and at the same time be- stowing the highest honors on the memory of men who die in open disregard of all that these ministers themselves call religion ? Do we not also see men who are sentenced by the law for capital crime, dis- daining to the last all religious counsel, ascend the scaffold with an unfaltering step, with unmoved countenance adjust the instruments of death, salute respectfully the gazing throng, then, with perhaps a lie upon their lips, pass from life with a heroic calm- ness which puts to shame the unmanly indecision and unchristian fears of men who have been ac- counted saints within the church ? Still more, — to go beyond the pale of Christen- dom, — the Jew, to this day, in every land, still hopes for the Messiah’s coming, and when he dies, 24 A RELIGION TO LIVE BY, dies joyfully, in the faith that Jehovah will yet re- store to his chosen Zion their long-lost Jerusalem. The believer in the Koran, to this hour, when he feels death’s chilling finger on his brow, turns his countenance towards the pilgrim shrine of Mecca, — with his fainting voice whispers, “ Allah is God and Mahomet is his prophet,” — and without a murmur his soul passes, as his sorrowing friends believe, to eat of the fruit of the tree of Paradise, in one of the seven heavens. Even the spirit of the Pagan obeys without complaint the summons of his many deities ; and while his widow, under a sense of duty, ascends his funeral pyre, the ashes of both are soon scattered by the whistling winds. The aboriginal of our own continent, the noble Indian, never shrinks from death, but rather courts death than lose revenge, sweet revenge, for wrong inflicted on his tribe. And often, when the spirit has gone, surviving friends with songs of triumph convey the body to its resting-place, leaving it with its face turned towards the rising sun, whither the soul has gone, as they conceive, to the land of the Great Spirit, where no civilized race can drive him from his hunting-grounds, or rob him of his home. Do these incontestable facts prove that every re- ligion is true, — equally true ? Unquestionably they do, if the common use of such arguments be just. The legitimate inference, on this principle, mani- festly is, that every religion, and every dogma of every religion, that administers comfort in a dying hour, is true. But here let us discern the great distinction be- tween the nature of Christianity and that of the va- THE BEST RELIGION TO DIE BY. 25 rious systems of religion which have existed and do yet exist. Every other religion has assumed that man is sinful and must sin, and that religion is only a plan or scheme to save him from the alleged effects of sin, the wrath of an offended God, — implying the essential imperfection of both man and deity. This radical error of other religions was brought from their respective systems by the early converts of every na- tion, — especially the Roman and the Greek, — and soon was incorporated with the dogmas of Chris- tianity, — till it has become, and is at this hour, the prevailing vital mistake of almost every Christian sect, exclusive and liberal. A most serious mistake certainly this is. What is the true object of human existence ? If all nature speak not falsely, if all experience deceive us not, the whole physical, mental, and moral con- stitution of man declares, in terms too emphatical to admit of a single doubt, that the chief purpose of his being is to educe, to unfold, and to perfect his faculties. And all nature and all natural influences, all society and all social influences, the heavens, the earth, the air, all things above, beneath, and around him, are the means, the instruments, by which this purpose is here to be commenced and here to be prosecuted. The development of the man , the formation of char- acter , is the great end of all human effort. What is character, do you ask ? Character is the expres- sion, the utterance, the exhibition of the soul, of the governing spirit of the man, in the daily, hourly life. The character is meritorious or censurable, good or bad, as the life is virtuous or vicious, true or false. 3 26 A RELIGION TO LIVE BY, Christianity, far from being a mere anodyne to soothe the suffering of a dying hour, is a statement of principles on which the character is to be formed, — a statement of rules by which the life is to be governed; and Jesus of Nazareth is not only the propounder, but the living embodiment, of those prin- ciples, — a living example, a complete illustration, of the practicability of these rules. The first and most important end of Christianity is, to teach us how to live, not how to die. Read all the teachings of Jesus himself, — follow him through his Sermon on the Mount (fifth, sixth and seventh chapters of Matthew, and the completest summary of his teachings that we have left to us), — and unquestionably, if there be a Christian sermon in the world, it is the sermon of the Christ himself, — and what do you find? Constant reference to death or dying, constant representation that prepara- tion for death is the origin, the end, or object of re- ligion ? No, not a syllable of this kind ; but this satisfactory and most comprehensive discourse of Jesus is a compendium of doctrines, rules, and pre- cepts for the daily life of man, without a word of reference to death. Read that discourse, and you will find that “ Do unto others as you would that others should do unto you,” — “Love thy God and love thy neighbor,” — are the sum and substance of all the teachings of Jesus. And what gives to these principles their peculiar power is this, that he proved them to be practicable , he lived them fairly out, he enforced them even at the sacrifice of present life. A man’s dying joyfully in any certain form of faith THE BEST RELIGION TO DIE BY. 27 cannot prove that faith to be correct. The whole history of the world, as we have seen, testifies that men may die, that men have died, calmly, heroi- cally, and, in the common use of terms, gloriously, in every faith, — Heathen, Mahometan, Jewish, and Christian. It can be no credit to a religion that it is good to die by, for any religion is good enough for that ; but the religion to live by is the religion the world wants. A man may become so pervaded with a firm conviction of any religion, or may be so destitute of all religion (as thousands on the battle- field attest), or may be so sternly, stoically indiffer- ent to all things, as to be sustained in a dying hour, and enabled to bid adieu to earth without a murmur. Even the victims of ungodly anarchy in France, with the awful guillotine awaiting them, could write on their prison walls, “ When trouble comes, it is easy to despise death.” The firm Roman never shrank from death, and sometimes welcomed it with levity. It is said that the Emperor Caligula had a dispute with Caius Ju- lius, and, to cut the matter short, the Emperor said to him : “ Do not flatter yourself, for I have ordered you to be put to death.” Caius knew the certainty of what the Emperor declared, and when the officer came with a warrant for his immediate execution, he was playing at a game of chess. Caius received the summons with all imaginable indifference, and, as he had to leave the game unfinished, only desired the centurion to bear witness after his death that he had the best of the game. Then, turning to some friends, he took leave of them, saying : “ You here are disputing about the immortality of the soul, 28 A RELIGION TO LIVE BY, I am now going to be convinced of the truth ; if I make any discovery on that point, you shall hear of it.” What a time is that to determine the truth of a marts doctrine , or the reality of a man’s character, when disease has racked his body, and unbalanced his mind, and perhaps dethroned his reason ! Do you ask, then, wherein consists the superiority of Christianity ? I answer, the pre-eminence, the grand feature, the great glory, of Christianity is, that it is a body of principles and precepts of uni- versal application, to direct and guard and aid man all through life, and not a mere scheme to comfort him in death; — that so far as it is a system, it is a system of life made holy, and not a plan of death made easy. Death, — separation of body and spirit, — does this terminate existence ? No ; what we call death is not an end of life. It is only an event in life. Not indeed an unimportant event. It is important, as being the termination of one stage of being, — the end of the first term of our existence, — a landing- place an the eternal progress, — and the importance of religion in connection with the circumstance of death, whatever that importance may be, depends entirely upon the relation of religion to the previous life. If the requirements of Christianity have been dis- regarded through the whole life, all religious forms and rites and ministrations are, in the hour of death, nothing more than useless ceremonies, — or even worse, as tending to aggravate the very evils they are designed to mitigate. For the officious and THE BEST RELIGION TO DIE BY. 29 ill-timed anxiety of clergymen at the death-bed often destroys both the peace of mind and repose of body which the dying man otherwise would have. Paul coincides with Jesus in expressing the prac- tical character of Christianity. “ Though I under stand all mysteries,” he says, “ and all knowledge and though I have all faith , so that I could remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing, it prof- iteth me nothing.” The only criterion of moral or religious character that is at once Scriptural and reasonable, is this, from the discourse of Jesus : “ By their fruits ye shall know them.” To determine the value of a tree, would you view it only when its naked limbs are quivering in the wintry blast, and the last withered leaf is just falling to the ground ? Or would you trace it through its budding and its blooming, and the fulness of its foliage, till you reach the ripeness of its fruit ? So in determining human character, — as far as human judgment may determine, — we must take in our hands the golden rule left to us by Jesus, and by that rule measure a man’s deeds, through the whole general tenor of his life ; instead of daring, — for it is bold presumption, — by the last scene in the last act of this earthly drama, to pronounce upon the whole performance. Though it might not, in any given instance, be conclusive testimony as to absolute rectitude of pre- vious life, yet it evinces a mind at ease, a desirable serenity, to be able at the dying moment to say, with the lately deceased chief magistrate of our 3 * 30 A RELIGION TO LIVE BY, country, H I have endeavored to do my duty, I fear nothing, I am prepared.” “ We live in deeds, not years, — in thoughts, not breaths, In feelings, not in figures on a dial ; We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.” The last expressions and acts of our dying friends, it is true, possess to us peculiar interest as associated with the last and tenderest remembrances of those we love, and last words are often treasured as pre- cious memorials. They may indicate to us the same spirit that has pervaded and ruled the past life, — they may exhibit the ruling passion strong in death. But to the stranger they can afford no criterion for judging of past character, and they can afford no index, more than previous acts afforded, of the un- seen future. Let us but endeavor to study the precepts of Jesus thoroughly, and to imbibe the spirit of Jesus deeply, and to walk by the example of Jesus faithfully, and it matters little how or where this earthly scene shall terminate. In an instant, in the twinkling' of an eye, we may be — as thousands are by the daily accidents of life — hurled from the visible realities of time into the now invisible realities of eternity ; or, protracted, painful, withering disease may strain every heartstring to its utmost tension, before the last mortal cord be broken ; and howsoever it may come, let but the fainting vision of the struggling spirit be cheered by the retrospect of a conscientious and generous activity, and death will be welcomed by us as a heavenly escort to a higher sphere, where the disencumbered soul may discern more clearly, THE BEST RELIGION TO DIE BY. 31 expand more freely, and advance more rapidly, — while hosts of friendly spirits may greet us with a long, inspiring burst of sympathetic joy, joy inex- pressible and full of glory. DISCOURSE III. RELIGION AND MORALITY. PURE RELIGION, AND UNDEFILED BEFORE GOD AND THE FATHER, IS THIS, TO VISIT THE FATHERLESS AND WIDOWS IN THEIR AFFLICTION, AND TO KEEP HIMSELF UNSPOTTED from the world. — James i. 27. The term Religion is one of those terms which are in universal, but vague and uncertain use. It has become a technical, a professional term, and yet it might be supposed, by one unfamiliar with our language, that the term had and could have but one obvious signification. Were the question pro- pounded to those in daily employment of this term, What is Religion ? thousands would find themselves involved in unaccountable mystery, simply because they supposed that they had always had a distinct and satisfactory understanding of the term. Has a man found religion, or obtained religion ? is a very common inquiry. But, What is religion ? is a very rare one. Does a man profess religion ? is an in- quiry you may frequently hear made. But, Is that man a “ religious man”? is a question seldom of- fered for reply. RELIGION AND MORALITY. 33 Has a man obtained religion ? implies that it is some essence or substance, which is somehow to come into a man’s possession, — a kind of treasure which, when once found, is never to be lost, but to be preserved as a sort of talisman or charm around the person. Does a man profess religion ? implies, that it is a creed or system of some sort, — a doctrine or belief which is to be declared or professed, — this profession constituting one a possessor of religion, or in some way securing to him its benefits. But both these ideas are incorrect, — they are es- sentially defective ; for religion is not an essence or a substance, which, like silver or gold, is to be ob- tained and secured in a man’s possession. Neither is religion a doctrine or belief to be professed, and by such profession to secure some favors or privileges. It is neither something to be procured, nor is it a belief to be professed. Religion is a term expressive of the quality of certain human actions, of certain human characters, — just as purity or patience, gen- tleness or goodness, describes the quality of certain actions, or the quality of certain characters in man. Religion is a word descriptive of certain relations and certain duties of man. In strict propriety, no one possesses purity, no one possesses patience, — that is, he does not find or obtain them as he finds money or obtains property ; but he may be a pure man, or a patient man ; these terms simply describe his mental or moral qualities. In strict propriety, no one ob- tains or holds gentleness or goodness as a possession, like a house or tract of land ; but he may be a gentle- man or a good man, these terms being descriptive of his personal characteristics. 34 RELIGION AND MORALITY. So is religion a word applicable to certain relations, duties, actions, of a man, personally ; and it is not a something material, a species of property to be ac- quired. There is no propriety, therefore, in asking whether or not a man has obtained religion, or whether a man has professed religion ; but there is a proper and all- important question, namely, Is he a religious man ? Are his actions and his life such as may be de- scribed by the word religious ? For the word relig- ious cannot describe a man’s person, a man’s body, — it cannot describe his business or profession, — it cannot describe his property, his houses or his lands ; it can only describe his spirit and his life, as manifested by his actions. To say that a man is religious, is not to express a peculiarity of a single act or series of acts at a given time and under pe- culiar circumstances, but it is to express the whole character, the uniform tenor, of a man’s life. He is not logically, or necessarily, or strictly a religious man who offers prayers, who hears sermons and reads Bibles, who supports foreign missions and be- longs to some society called a church. Religion does not consist in doing these things except so far as these are portions of a whole life, a uniform course of actions in conformity with these. A man may most cordially and liberally support a mission in India, and at the same time be supporting a gam- bling-house in his own vicinity. A man may be- long to some church, and at the same time belong to some association whose direct design is to de- fraud and take advantage of his fellow-men. A man may hear sermons most patiently, and read RELIGION AND MORALITY. 35 the Bible most seriously, every Sunday, and at the same time he may read the most immoral works, and listen patiently to the most wicked plans, all through the week. A man may every morning by his bedside, or every evening at the prayer-meeting, utter most fervent and hearty prayers, while at the same time through the day little else than curses, reproaches, and abuse may be uttered by his lips. Now such a man — and there are such men — may be profuse in his professions, and ardent in con- fessing sinfulness ; he may be generous in support- ing missions, and may be eloquent in prayer : he maybe a faithful church-goer, and a diligent Bible- reader ; he may be called a devout man and a pro- fessor of religion ; — but whatever he is, he is very far from being a religious man in any proper sense, — in any Christian sense he is anything but a religious man. One of the most unhappy distinctions, that is, one of the most pernicious in its effects ever drawn, whether by logicians or theologians, is that drawn between religion and morality. Religion seems to be understood as expressing only our relations and duties toward God, and morality as only expressing our relations and duties toward man. The grand defect in all doctrinal systems or revelations pre- ceding Christianity, and all beside Christianity, is, that they undervalue or overlook one class of duties in their scrupulous observation of another class. They have been devised with relation to God only, and not with relation to man also. So it has been with every Pagan system or form of worship ; by sacrifices and prayers and rites they have endeav- ored to conciliate the various deities, and so to se- 36 RELIGION AND MORALITY. cure personal favor or exemption from some fancied or real evil. The same defect was characteristic of the Hebrew dispensation. Sacrifices and ceremo- nies, burdensome rites and external worship, were the means employed to win the favor and avert the anger of the omnipotent, and, as supposed, offended Jehovah. By the early converts, of whom the first Christians were composed, from the various forms of Paganism, as well as from the superior and more spiritual form of Judaism, this essential error was engrafted upon Christianity, and has been perpetu- ated till this hour. Nothing is more common among the churches of Christian denominations, than to hear religion exalted and eulogized, as the inestima- ble grace of God, and morality depreciated, as only the filthy rags of righteousness of man. Thus reverence for the Divine Being becomes all in all, — beneficence to our fellow-man is little, or even worse than nothing ; — as if God were but a universal monarch, whose happiness consisted in receiving confessions of humility from his subjects, offerings of incense and songs of praise and words of adulation, — all the more acceptable as man may humble himself by acts of bodily homage, and forget his fellow-man in devotion to his Sovereign, and despise the world out of reverence for its majestic Ruler. A most woful perversion of the whole spirit of Christianity ! To remedy this defect of all pre- vious forms of worship was a purpose of Jesus the Anointed, the Divine Teacher, — prominent in his whole career, — alike discernible in his precepts and his example. u Peace on earth and good-will among men,” are the words which describe his message. RELIGION AND MORALITY. 37 “ He went about doing good, rejoicing with those who rejoiced, and weeping with those who wept,” are the words which describe his life. To show the futility of sacrifices, ceremonies, rites, and external forms, — except so far as these may be made beneficent agents of man’s improvement, — was a design most manifest in all his addresses to his Hebrew country- men. This passage of St. James is remarkable, as being the only instance in the Bible in which religion is literally defined. The word religion is never used in the Old Testament, and except in this chapter is but three times employed in the New Testament. In all of these three instances it is used by St. Paul in its most general sense, to signify the dispensa- tion or religion, the mode of worship, in which he was educated ; as we say, the Hindoo religion, the Mohammedan religion, the Christian religion, not alluding in detail to opinions, doctrines, or rites. But in this solitary instance is the term religion defined in its particular and practical signification. St. James is advising Christians generally, and naming certain practical tests of a true Christian character; and having just declared in reference to the man who seems to be religious, yet bridles not his own tongue, as he expresses it, — does not speak in charity and kindness, — that such a man’s relig- ion is vain, that he deceives his own heart, probably substituting some external observance for the exer- cise of a fraternal spirit, then he makes this distinct announcement : “ Pure religion, and undefiled be- fore God and the Father, is this, To visit the father- less and the widow in their affliction, and to keep 4 38 RELIGION AND MORALITY. himself unspotted from the world.” Now this un- ambiguous description of religion, and the only one in the Bible, is considered very defective if judged by the doctrinal standards of our times. It an- nounces no fundamental doctrines, not one of the articles of faith which all church creeds declare to be essential. It says nothing of any irresistible grace to be received, it mentions nothing to be professed, but something to be done. And that something, moreover, is to be done to our fellow-man, the fa- therless and the widow representing every other human being who may require our aid, our sympa- thy, consolation, or encouragement. This active beneficence, with the preservation of the individual himself unspotted from the world, that is, unstained by the vicious influences operating in society, is relig- ion according to St. James. Nothing is said of our direct relation to God, our special duty to him ; but the sacred writer places in bold relief our duties toward our fellow-men and to ourselves, — implying clearly, that in discharging these duties in the spirit of true fraternity, we are acting in obedience to the require- ments of God our Father. We are thus offering him the highest homage ; our sacrifice is that of a loving soul, the purest and noblest of all worship. But this is only morality , say many systems and teachers, — these are only moral duties, — these may be performed without religion. But admit that these duties toward our fellow-men and toward ourselves may be measurably discharged without religion, the converse of the proposition is the one before us, Can there be a Christian religion , can there be a relig- ious character, without the performance of these du- RELIGION AND MORALITY. 39 ties ? This definition of St. James, says an exclu- sive critic, is correct so far, that it implies religion, — it is a part of religion, but not the whole. There are essential doctrines not referred to. But is it not truly singular that there should be in the Scripture any definition of religion, and that a most direct and literal definition, and the only one in all Scrip- ture, and that definition make no allusion to any one of the dogmas which the confessions declare to be essential to salvation ? Of the inherent corruption and total depravity of human nature, — ecclesiastical and unscriptural phraseology, — there is nothing said in James’s description of pure and undefiled religion. Of the infinite merits of Christ, — another church, but not Scripture phrase, — St. James says nothing. Of faith in the blood of atonement, — another phrase of the books , but not of the Bible, — St. James says nothing. For none of these, nor any of their kindred fundamentals, but simply an active and disinter- ested benevolence toward our human brother, and the preservation of our own purity, — this is before God and the Father pure and undefiled religion. The same tendency existed in the time of St. James, only in a greater degree, to exalt belief or faith, and to depreciate morality or good works ; and he pointedly inquires in this same Epistle, “ What doth it profit, though a man say he hath faith, and have not works ? Can faith save him ? If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, and one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be you warmed and filled ; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body ; what doth it profit ? Show me thy faith without thy works, 40 RELIGION AND MORALITY. and I will show thee my faith by my works For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also.” St. Paul expresses in strongest language the same sentiment when he says, “ Though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.” Pe- ruse carefully all that sermon by Jesus, on the mount, — the only one of his recorded, — study every sen- tence of the Lord’s prayer, the only form which Jesus bequeathed to us, and you will not find even an allu- sion to one of the dogmas concerning the divine na- ture or human nature of the Messiah, which church systems now proclaim as essential to the faith of every human being who would be saved from severe judgment and ceaseless suffering beyond the grave. What then ! were all, Jesus and his disciples, teach- ers of morality ? Yes, all ; to every system-framer I give an emphatic and affirmative reply, Yes, Jesus and his followers were all teachers of morality, you being judge. To live a righteous, sober, and godly life, was the sum and substance of all their teach- ings, the chief end of all their efforts ; and this they taught by their words and their deeds, their lives and their deaths. So distinctly and emphatically is this grand design declared, that every interpretation of Scripture incompatible with this must be defec- tive. Every obscure passage, every doubtful word, all figurative language, must be construed to har- monize with this great and manifest design, the purity and elevation, the present and immortal prog- ress, of man’s spiritual nature. This is Christian Morality and this is Christian Religion. In exact harmony with this is that explicit saying of Jesus, RELIGION AND MORALITY. 41 “ If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine whether it be of God.” Reversing the com- mon order of ideas, he places action before knowl- edge, practice before principle, doing before doctrine. This he means, — that there is in existence some principle of duty, so general, so universal, that strict adherence to that will afford to any man a safe and conclusive practical test of all abstract truth, all ab- struse speculative doctrine. Now what principle of action is there so natural, so rational, that may be so generally, so invariably recognized, as this by which St. James defines “ pure and undefiled relig- ion before God, even the Father,” — namely, to dis- charge the duties of benevolence to our fellow-men , and to resist every temptation to disobey our own enlightened moral sense ? Jesus affords the corre- sponding rule in his own language, which furnishes the same practical test of the value of doctrine, and is recognized as the Golden Rule , — “ As ye would that others should do unto you, do ye even so unto them.” Every doctrine, every interpretation of rev- elation, at variance with the practice of this un- equivocal rule, it is safe to reject, as unsound and untrue. St. John, the friend of Jesus, the beloved disciple, expresses the same practical identity of virtue and piety, religion and morality, in terms so forcible as to startle us by their positiveness and abruptness : “ If any man say I love God , and hateth his brother , he is a liar ; for he that loveth not his brother, whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen.” In other words, how can we discharge our duty to God, but by the discharge of our duty 4 * 42 RELIGION AND MORALITY. to man ? How can there be religion without mo- rality ? How can we love God but by loving God’s creature, man ? How can we cherish, how can we even know, the sentiment of love, but through par- ents and friends, whom we have seen, and towards whom our affections first open and expand, and thence by gratitude extend to God, whom we have not seen , but who is the author of these precious gifts ? By God’s own appointment, the law of our spiritual nature, our love is first awakened and elicited by man, and passes through man to God, through the seen to the unseen, through the visible creature to the invisible Creator, through the mortal child to the Immortal Father. How simple and how sublime, how comprehensive and comprehen- sible, the principles, the doctrines, of Jesus and his Apostles, compared with the unintelligible and un- satisfactory statements of the systems, articles, and confessions of ecclesiastical councils ! How different this Scriptural description of pure religion and unde- filed, from those alleged essential doctrines concerning church authority and church forms, — theories of the divine nature, and theories of human nature, — theo- ries of the nature of Jesus, and theories of the death of Jesus, — certain professions of belief and certain modes of baptism ! How these dwindle into insig- nificance before the simple, sublime, heavenly, and universal element and principle of love, — love of the human, and love of the divine, — at once th q principle and proof the fountain and the stream, the begin- ning and the end, — without which all faith is vain, by which every man may know his character, may test his religion, may prove his doctrine ! RELIGION AND MORALITY. 43 There is no more deplorable characteristic of much of the preaching of Christendom than this which en- tirely separates religion from morality. It has been, and still is, a fruitful source of particular evils to in- dividuals and churches, as well as general evil to the cause of Christianity. In the long catalogue of Sabbath complainings, none is more prominent than that referring to the absence of a consistent, virtuous life on the part of those who, in the common phrase, 11 profess religion.” What is it at which the incredulous and scoffing so scornfully point, as their objection to Christianity, their objection to Religion ? Is it not the want of pure principle and upright action during the six-day business life of those who are most patient, punctil- ious, and devout on Sundays ? And yet what can religious teachers expect, but that hearers will be true to their Sabbath instructions, by which they are informed that a very religious man may be very far from being a moral man, by which they learn that a strict morality is not the invariable attendant and only testimony of true piety, — that indeed a “ man’s righteousness ,” a man’s good works , are rather dan- gerous, and to be deprecated, as tending to lead him to attach importance to them ? So long as religious teachers continue to reproach men for valuing per- sonal righteousness, and apply to good works, to virtuous acts, to daily morality, epithets so gross and offensive as “ filthy rags,” “ worthless or worse than worthless,” they will continue to complain of the inconsistencies of their people, who profess religion and practise religion as they are taught, but who do not afford to society the only evidence of religion 44 RELIGION AND MORALITY. which society will accept ; that is, a pure morality, a daily life of progressive virtue. Men whom churches call pious or religious may be satisfied with certain feelings and Sabbath exer- cises as the fruits of piety, but society will know nothing of such fruits, and reasonable, intelligent, virtuous men, who make no professions of remarka- ble experiences, can never be brought to credit the soundness of any religion which does not prove it- self by unquestionable morality. “ Men do not gather grapes from thorns, nor figs from thistles,” Jesus teaches; and all men acknowledge the just- ness of the rule, “ By their fruits ye shall know them.” Professed experiences of grace will never be accepted as substitutes for acts of goodness, by the thoughtful, who judge of Christians from their conduct. Men of irreproachable virtue, who will not subscribe confessions, and who are often styled, re- proachfully, u men of the world,” will never admit the piety which can only declare itself by a mysti- cal faith, instead of positive good works; visitations of grace, instead of an excellent moral character; waters of baptism administered in the church, in- stead of honest dealings in the field, the storehouse, and the street ; acknowledgments of the truth of the Bible, instead of constant regard for truth in men’s own words ; tears streaming from men’s eyes at the sufferings pictured on Calvary, instead of streams of human kindness flowing constantly from charitable hearts. Missionaries to foreign lands will still encounter great obstacles, and meet with small success, so long as the actions of those who bear the name of Chris- RELIGION AND MORALITY. 45 tian preach louder than their words. The Heathen, Mohammedan, or Hebrew sees the beam in the Christian’s eye, as easily as he perceives the mote that is in his own eye. They will not plant the Chris- tian’s tree in their garden till they find it productive of better fruit than their own tree. You cannot allure the Heathen to Christianity by promise of a far future heaven, — for his own religion offers him the joys of a heaven as inviting to his eye as any that the Christian can describe. You cannot intim- idate him by terrors of a far future hell, so long as he sees by their conduct that the dread of that hell produces so little good effect upon Christians them- selves. How truly we may mourn, and how earnest- ly strive to remedy, the sad perversion of Christian truth ! The very mission of Jesus, the very design and proper tendency of Christianity, in contradistinc- tion from all systems and superstitions, is to identify pure morality with true religion, — to place duty to man on the same platform with duty to God. Chris- tianity teaches us not to crucify nature and despise the world, but to develop nature and use the world ; not to honor God by dishonoring his works, but to employ his works as agents to his honor ; not to en- hance the splendor of the divine by despising the weakness of the human, but to elevate the human towards the divine; not to worship the Almighty with a servile fear, but to draw man the subject nearer to God the Sovereign, to bring man the child into a closer intimacy with God the Father, — “ God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself”; not merely to escape the malignity of the Devil in a distant world, but first to exclude by righteousness 46 RELIGION AND MORALITY. the accusing devil of guilt, which daily seeks a har- bor in our own bosoms ; not to be saved only from the flames and torments of hell in the unseen division of human life, but to be saved first from the hell of fear and suffering which sin and outraged con- science always kindle in a guilty heart; not to win a dreamy rest in sensuous happiness in the yet unseen heaven, but by a patient, generous, and hopeful activ- ity to keep our spirits continually in a heaven of purity and peace, and joy and hope, like an exhaust- less fountain, upward springing towards an everlast- ing life. For so much and so far as it will exist, the hell of that life will grow out of the hell which begins in this life, and the heaven of this life will grow up into the heaven of that now unseen part of the eternal life which is the inalienable heritage of every soul. DISCOURSE IV. SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. GOD HATH NOT GIVEN US THE SPIRIT OT? FEAR, BUT OF POWER, AND OF LOVE, AND OF A SOUND MIND. — 2 Tim- othy i. 7. These lucid and significant words of Paul may justly be employed, not only by the Liberal Christians of the times, as descriptive of their own condition, but also as describing a characteristic of this coun- try and this generation. It is true that much of the religion existing around us is founded on the senti- ment of fear. It is not gratitude, not reverence, not the feeling of dependence expressing itself in wor- ship. It is apprehension, or dread of some supposed or possible evil, which is to be deprecated, and if possible averted. This remark is not intended as an assertion that most of the external observances of religion are made under the immediate influence of fear. This would imply more direct reflection than is usually given to each personal act. But on a close analysis it will be ascertained, that the original motive of 48 SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. many, if not most persons, in acts which are called religious, is an apprehension of some ultimate per- sonal evil to themselves. Yet it is certain that, among nominal Christians generally, the spirit of fear is not predominant, whether as to the future of what is called time^ or the future of what is called eternity. Follow men out into their various voca- tions, into the business of all professions, into the daily and constant occurrences of domestic life, and ascertain if possible how much the element of fear enters into their immediate motives or feelings, prompting them to action or restraining them from action, impelling them to one course or restraining them from another course. You will probably find that fear is the very lowest in the scale of consider- ations by which they are influenced. Fear neither of God, of Satan, of hell, of suffering, or punish- ment of any kind, temporal or eternal, is found to be a powerful, ever-present motive, impelling to or de- terring men from action. In the study of the stu- dent, in the office of the lawyer, in the counting-room or warehouse of the merchant, in the workshop of the artisan, in the store, in the market, or on the street, where is the man who pauses over every act, and every transaction, and asks himself, What evil may this possibly bring upon me, in a future existence after death ? Where is the man who at every act pauses and puts the question to himself, What evil may this possibly bring upon me twenty, ten, or five years after this, here in the present life ? Can you find one such man ? It will scarcely be deemed presumptuous to allege, that among the three-and-twenty millions of this nation there is no SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. 49 such man. No, — the spirit of fear , whether as to temporal or eternal things, is not the spirit of our people. It is not the characteristic of our age. In this respect some old things have passed away, even if all things have not become new. It is more than probable, that, with a respectable portion of the relig- ious world, the spirit of fear is predominant during the worship hours of the first day of every week. But among those who fear the most, even one day in seven, the pulpit presents Christianity as a scheme of redemption , which serves somewhat as an anodyne to soothe their spirits, and gently and speedily to dissipate their momentary apprehensions. Then every Monday morning, most, if not all, enter upon the routine of ordinary business, with hearts almost free from every shadow of fear which annoyed them for an hour on the previous day. Why is this so ? Perhaps it is because of the increase and prevalence of a spirit of power, of love, and of a sound mind. In the course of human progress, man has ac- quired a larger knowledge of his own power, and has a deeper confidence in his own capacities. The discoveries in science by the few have developed the faculties of the many, and man now finds revealed what was always true, though unperceived, — the great law of adaptation in the universe, and the natural tendency of all things to good. Men now perceive, with more or less distinctness, that all which is called evil , is not inherent in things, — is not the natural order of things, but is the result of restrain- ing, perverting, or in some manner departing from the divine order of nature. Even the proudest 5 50 SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. city of Greece in her most palmy days, with all her art, philosophy, and elegant culture, referred everything to gods, and found gods for everything. When overtaken by calamities, in the spirit of fear they erected an altar to the “ Unknown God.” They seemed to regard each particular evil as the visita- tion of some one of many conflicting deities ; and lest the author of some special visitation should not be numbered in their catalogue of known divini- ties, the propitiatory altar to the unknown deity was supposed to meet the exigency, and avert the divine displeasure. God is not now believed in as a local, national God, arbitrarily blessing one man or one race, and arbitrarily cursing another man or another race. The Deity is now worshipped as the sustain- ing power and life of the universe, leaving man free to bring joy or sorrow to himself by improvement or misimprovement of his powers, yet in boundless wisdom directing all things toward some grander destiny than any now within our actual comprehen- sion. Human knowledge is both more profound and comprehensive now. Probably better than ever be- fore are perceived the true relations of things, ani- mate and inanimate, spiritual and material. The practical application of this knowledge to human wants and comforts indicates clearly the control which man, or mind, may have over the material or visible elements of nature. Man understands better his just pre-eminence in the order of things, and the spirit of love supersedes the spirit of fear, the spirit of power supplants the spirit of superstitious servil- ity. This spirit of power and spirit of Jove are now the spirits in the Church. SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. 51 Why then, do you inquire, does so much of the external worship or religion of the times find its support in the sentiment of fear ? This Sunday fear is only the homage rendered to the images set up by the instruction of early years, before we enter into the commotion of life around us now, which inculcates and enforces self-reliance, and inspires with the spirit of power. The Church, with its mix- ture of error and of truth, is associated with the purest period of most men’s being, — the period when with unquestioning trust they receive the tenets of a mother’s faith, confirmed by first instructions from the revered lips of teachers and of preachers. The impressions thus made upon the plastic mind are never easily effaced. But the man has developed, while the Church has ceased development. The man makes progress, while the Church regards prog- ress in theology as dangerous, if not impossible. The venerable institution still remains, and by force of habit the footsteps of the early worshipper are directed towards the altar venerated in his youth. Though it has lost its power to instruct him, (I speak of the Church in its popular or sectarian sense,) its services still somewhat soothe and solace, while they touch tenderly some memory of his earliest, his home affections. The Protestant churches of this day make a sim- ilar mistake to that under which Rome has labored for fourteen hundred years; namely, the presump- tion, that all truth has been discovered; that religion is and has been fully understood in all its relations, and that the Church, as its organ, is infallible. More than two centuries ago, when at Leyden some 52 SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. of our forefathers were about to embark and brave the perils of the sea, that in this Western wilder- ness they might find “ freedom to worship God,” John Robinson, who was their devout and sagacious pastor, gave them, as part of his farewell address, this solemn charge. Said he : “I charge you before God, that if God reveal anything to you by any other instrument of his, be as ready to receive it as ever you were to receive any truth by my ministry, for I am verily persuaded God hath more truth yet to break forth from his holy word. For my part, I cannot sufficiently bewail the condition of the Re- formed churches, which are come to a period in relig- ion, and will go at present no farther than the instru- ments of their reformation. The Lutherans cannot be drawn to go beyond what Luther saw, — what- ever part of his will God revealed to Calvin, they will die rather than embrace it; and the Calvinists, you see, stick fast by that great man of God, who yet saw not all things. This is a misery much to be lamented, for though they were burning and shin- ing lights in their times , yet they penetrated not the whole counsel of God, but, were they now living, would be as willing to embrace further light as that which they at first received. I beseech you remem- ber that it is an article of your church covenant, that you be ready to receive whatever truth shall be made known to you from the written word of God” But this sensible charge of a far-seeing mind has long since been forgotten by many of the descend- ants of those who heard it. They have fallen into the error of the early Calvinists and Lutherans, who, SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. 53 even in the lifetime of their leaders, seriously quar- relled ; and what Robinson said of them may be truly said of the existing churches of Protestantism, — they have come to a period in religion, and will go no farther than the limits prescribed by confes- sions made at least three centuries since. No profound reflection is needed to account for the comparatively small influence which the church- es now exert upon the principles and conduct of the great mass of men, both within them and without. The whole secret is, the churches and the times are not in harmony. The churches are standing still, while the world around them is in motion. The world of mind, matter, reason, nature, is agitated, — has disclosed and is disclosing God and man, the life within and the life without, in new relations and new forms. The church is unpractical and unpro- gressive, the times are testing all things by the stand- ard of utility, and compelling all things to advance with them, or to go back and disappear entirely. The old body which has been inhabited by the spirit of fear, though it still remains, is outwardly respect- ed and endured, — not even from remembrance of its past services, but only because of its age and its infirmities. All observing and reflecting minds per- ceive, that if a church would perpetuate itself, if there be a church at all, it must be a vigorous and healthful body, inhabited by a spirit of power, of love, and a sound progressive mind. When a church decays and dies, its cold remains, like other dead bodies, should be decently interred, and not kept to endanger the health and progress of the living. If the burial cost some tears, let them be shed, and let 5 * 54 SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. the mourners turn again with energy to the serious work of life. Of those who from force of habit most regularly at- tend the Sunday ministrations, how many will frankly tell you, that Sunday is the saddest and most unprof- itable day of the seven ! After the driving business and harassing cares of the week, they seek, and they all need, some spiritual ministrations. But they come away from the services of the church, with as- pirations suppressed, rather than increased ; with ar- dor dampened, rather than hope kindled ; with per- plexities doubled, rather than burdens lightened ; with minds confused, rather than doubts dissipated. Not a bright ray has been thrown upon the dark coloring of life, and, wearied with the dulness of the time, they rejoice at the approach of Monday morning, to plunge again into the whirl of their pursuits, and forget the temporary shadows which the gloomy picturings of the pulpit had thrown around them. The fall and curse of the whole unborn world of man, — original sin, — the plan of salvation by vica- rious atonement, — the gracious gift of faith through which some are to be profited by that atonement, — the unutterable miseries of the eternally lost, — four fifths of human kind in Pagan darkness, perishing everlastingly for lack of knowledge, — these are the same old strings which have been struck ever since the first dissensions of Lutherans and Calvinists, and they produce as dismal and discordant music to-day, as they did when John Robinson bewailed the condition of the Reformed churches. There is as much need of reform and revival now, as when Luther blew that “ blast from the iron SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. 55 trumpet of his mother tongue, which shook Europe, from Rome to the Orkneys.” Consider the dis- putes which now convulse the churches, — whether one minister or another is in the true succession, — whether the Apostolic line came down through the Church of Rome, or down by another way outside of the Papal realm, — whether baptism is regenera- tion, or only typical of regeneration, — whether a handful of water in the font is sufficient, or whether immersion is essential, — whether certain versions of the Psalms, or certain hymns, should be sung in public worship. Such as these are the topics of discussion in this practical, inquiring, thinking nine- teenth century, — varied with now and then a groan or a tear over the millions of “ perishing souls who have no interest in the blood of Christ.” Without any protest, and as certainly with but little profit, hundreds sit each Sunday and listen to these insipid and interminable controversies. With like indiffer- ence, they listen to denunciations, threatenings, and lamentations over a graceless, God-forsaken, mam- mon-loving world, not included in the pale of the divinely constituted Church, which pulpit authori- ties declare to be the sole agent of eternal salvation. As a people, we may truly say of ourselves, as did St. Paul of the early Christians who were re- deemed from servile attachment to Hebrew, Greek, and Roman ritualism, li God has given us, not the spirit of fear, but of power, of love, and of a sound mind.” With all the materialism of the times, with all the money-loving characteristics of the acting generation, there has never before been exhibited so much of the power of a spirit of love. 56 SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. The thousands who on Sunday listen with appar- ent patience to the clergy who deliberately divide them off into saints and sinners, friends and enemies of God, children of grace and children of wrath, — these same thousands, when they pass without the portals of the church, no longer recognize the author- ity of their pulpit judges. They grasp each others’ hands as cordially, transact business with each other as freely, co-operate in benevolence as frankly, inter- change the courtesies of domestic life as readily, and devise and execute plans for the general prosperity with as much harmony and mutual enjoyment, as if they all repeated the same Shibboleth, — as if all were alike saints and children of grace, — as if all were alike the true sheep of the true Shepherd, des- tined to places on the right hand of the Judge. The actual visible advancement which has been made in developing mind and matter, restraining influences which degrade, and increasing influences which ele- vate, has awakened in the world’s heart a conscious- ness of power. It has made man to feel that he is the rational creature and moral agent of God, and not a corrupt and helpless thing, tossed to and fro between an angry Deity and an angry Devil, as one or the other may chance to gain the mastery in a contest, continued ever since Satan, as Milton de- scribes, “ raised impious war in heaven,” and was “ Hurled headlong, flaming from the ethereal sky, With hideous ruin and combustion, down To bottomless perdition, there to dwell In adamantine chains and penal fire.” The immeasurable influence of a free press, famil- iarizing all with the history and condition of the SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. 57 races and nations of the earth, discovers to all ob- servers, that whether one is a saint or a sinner, a child of the church or a child of the world, depends not so much upon special providences, supernatural visitations, and gifts of grace, as upon the social agencies which surround and seize upon the young mind and body, training them up in the way they should go, or in the way they should not. In catechisms, books, sermons, and Sunday pray- ers, the dogmas of original sin and total depravity of nature may remain — and precious as they are to those who retain them, they are only kept there like the gold, silver, gems, and jewels which sur- round the relics and bones of departed saints in the convents and cathedrals of the Church of Rome — only to be looked at, and believed in, but not to go forth with men, in the spirit of power, to assist and bless them in the practical affairs of life. The fact of the existence of these doctrines, even in the old creeds and the common sermons, is not wholly harmless. They greatly retard, but they cannot stop, the wheels of progress. The actual experience of this energetic day, the social improvements and common interests of the enlightened world, have virtually destroyed the power and deadened the spirit of these fundamental doctrines, framed by speculat- ing and contending human councils, in an almost semi-barbarous age. In alleging that man is now, more than ever be- fore, conscious of his real power, — that, as a moral agent, man controls his own destiny, — I do not in- tend to allege that man finds himself omnipotent. Great as is his power, the resistless forces of destruc- 58 SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. tive elements, which as yet he has been unable to sub- due, remind him of the limits of his present attain- ments, of his dependence upon a power above him- self, while at the same time it stimulates him to more ceaseless activity in extending the boundaries of his knowledge, in enlarging and confirming his dominion over nature. Man lives and walks amid innumerable mysteries, but at every step some- thing before hidden is revealed to his observing eye, encouraging his efforts and animating his hopes. The contest between love and hatred, truth and error, is not yet ended. With all the instrumental- ities of benevolence, all the monuments of philan- thropy, and all the combined and individual efforts for the redemption of the world from sin and wrong, there is still much ignorance, selfishness, and sad indifference to human happiness and human dig- nity, both in the Church and without the Church. Through many a stout struggle, many a hard-fought contest, truth has yet to pass, before she achieves a final triumph. Long indulged and pampered super- stition will contend as long as her organic life con- tinues, for the “bad eminence” to which she has been raised by spiritual ambition. But the throne of the spirit of fear, has been gained by crafty usurpa- tion, and craft must be conquered, for all injustice is doomed and must perish. The relinquishment of any effort for enlargement of human intellect, the elevation of human hopes, and achievement of spiritual freedom, — no matter from what particular or local causes, — cools the en- thusiasm, and shakes the otherwise growing confi- dence of some in the progress of goodness, if not their SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. 59 faith in divine beneficence itself. The spirit of fear regains temporary ascendency over the spirit of love, of power, and of a sound mind. Cracked-voiced big- otry croaks its exultations, and, pointing back to its inauspicious predictions, sets up its claims as a true prophet divinely inspired. But the spirit of love has a vital energy which can never be extinguished. The seeds which it sows, though chilled by the frosts and buried by the snows of ages, are sure one day to be reached by some animating heat, and germinate and spring forth in beauty to the light. The spirit of fear can never prosper nor maintain its foothold, but by calling to its aid a troop of spirits dismal as itself, like avarice, envy, selfishness, and revenge. But the spirit of love is in itself immortal, possessing an inherent power which cannot be even temporarily subdued, but by a malignant combination of hostile forces. To the spirit of fear the spirit of love never surren- ders in a fair fight. The spirit of fear, though nur- tured in creeds for ages, and exhibited from pulpits at this day, is mortal in its nature, for it is born of error, — it is born of dust, and unto dust it must re- turn. But the spirit of love is immortal and divine. It is the spirit of divinity itself, — for nature re- sponds to the written word, in declaring that “ God is Love.” Let no one, therefore, falter for an instant in his faith, but observe the tendencies of the time, the unfolding sympathies between man and man, the melting down of every icy barrier before the warm breath of human brotherhood, and he cannot fail to see that ignorance, superstition, and ecclesiastical authority are declining, withering, fading away, be- 60 SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. fore the spirit of power which has been roused into consciousness in millions of bosoms of this enlight- ened generation. The activity of the age, the absorbing interests of business, may leave multitudes but little time, and as little inclination, to investigate the respective claims of doctrines, rites, and churches. Many, therefore, may still remain in a degree of servitude to the spirit of fear, through silent assent to the old principle of exclusiveness, of which the preacher is now the only recognized embodiment. For out of the pulpit it has but few representatives, and no champions. The inconsistency between the Sunday worship of such and their week-day practice, they themselves may fail to detect. Nevertheless, that inconsistency continues and increases, till one day they will find that they have been insensibly and gradually un- clasping their spiritual fetters, and now stand clearly out in the fulness of a sound mind, armed with moral power , under the inspiration of a spirit of love. The apparently retrogressive movements in some portions both of Church and State in Christendom, as in England and France, and to some extent in our own country, afford no argument against human progress. These are but scattered and floating clouds, obscuring the brilliance of the sun. The sun of popular intelligence is already too high in the heav- ens for its penetrating rays to be easily averted, or its animating fervor to be easily cooled. The mind of the acting and rising generation is in motion, and it is not motion backward, nor mo- tion in a circle, but it is motion onward. As Liberal Christians, it remains for us who are unrestrained by SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. 61 ecclesiastical dictation, who are under no half-bond- age to early associations of external religion, who are unalarmed by the spiritural terrors of early life, to whom God has given, not the spirit of fear, but the spirit of power and of love, — it remains for us, without the smallest measure of self-complacency, with reasonable and grateful humility, to remember that our responsibilities are commensurate with our advantages. Collectively, we may not be able to accomplish all which the wants of the times appear to demand. Yet each one in his place and at all times can fearlessly and manfully speak the truth in love. By his daily actions, if not by his words, each one may bear testimony to the reality and power of an inward faith, which not only as to an existence beyond death, but as to the triumph of holiness, lib- erty, and love, among men on the earth, “ is the sub- stance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” The spirit of power and spirit of love which mark the energy of the age, represent and enforce the spirit of unity which is the true TJnitarianism ; — that which unites men in heart and action, despite all theoretic or speculative differences ; — that which re- gards all names, rites, forms, and churches as noth- ing in themselves, but as symbolic expressions, visi- ble organs, or modes of declaration, all valuable more or less, as means , as helps, but not as ends , — the ends being integrity of life , a harmonious, intel- ligent, and spiritual growth, to which all expressions, forms, and words must be subservient, — and useful only in proportion as they subserve these ends. Not even forms and ceremonies which subserve these ends 6 62 SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. should be despised. We should address the imagi- nation as well as the understanding, and cultivate taste as well as reason. We must collect and com- bine the dispersed elements of truth, and consolidate them into a substantial faith. Such appears to be the tendency of the times. Such is the felicitous consummation of an approaching period in the world. Whatsoever occasion may appear at times for discouragement to persons and personal exer- tions, there is abundant ground for cheerful and deepening trust in general progress, peaceful unity, and the reign of fraternal love. Some timid souls, wanting confidence in the power of faith to win its way, feeling a new and stronger pulse throbbing in the Church, are alarmed lest it should prove an un- healthy symptom. They seem to fear some feverish phase to which death itself may follow. Instead of faith, this shows a sad distrust of the religion they profess, — a want of confidence in God himself. Some spirits in the Church are busy enough to re- pair the breaches in the old walls by which the flocks have been fenced in. But their zeal is unavailing, for every moving train of steam-cars shakes down as much brick and mortar as the Sunday preaching builds. Every flash along ten thousand electric wires rejoins and mends the threads of human sym- pathy, as rapidly as ten thousand pulpits can con- sume and separate them. The tree of human brotherhood, which Jesus trans- planted from its narrow nursery in Palestine into the unfenced garden of the world, — though by mistaken husbandmen it has been tied down and dwarfed, and the dew and sunshine shut out by ec- SPIRITS IN THE CHURCH. 63 clesiastic coverings, — has still been growing, and has now reached a growth so stately, that it cannot be inclosed in the hot-house of a narrow church. Its roots have deepened, and its trunk has strengthened, and its boughs expanded, till it rejoices in the light and heat and showers of heaven itself; sweet birds are singing in its foliage, and men of every name are gathering in its grateful shade, and beginning to enjoy its delicious, unfailing, and immortal fruits. DISCOURSE V. THE FIRST SIN. — ADAM AND HIS POSTERITY. — THE DOCTRINE OF THE COVENANT WITH ADAM. WHY EVEN OF YOURSELVES JUDGE YE NOT WHAT IS right ? — Luke xii. 57. Probably no one concise embodiment of doc- trines is so well known, or read and remembered by so large a number of both children and men, as the Westminster Shorter Catechism. The 16th question in that Catechism is, “ Did all mankind fall in Adam’s first transgression ? ” The answer is, “ The covenant being made with Adam, not only for himself but for his posterity, all mankind de- scending from him by ordinary generation sinned in him, and fell with him in his first transgression.” “ The covenant,” — these words suggest the first inquiry. What evidence is there of any covenant having been made with Adam ? A covenant is an agreement, a contract, or bargain, between two par- ties, who mutually pledge themselves to certain conditions. Now what does the Genesis account represent as having passed between Adam and his THE FIRST SIN. 65 maker ? In chap. ii. ver. 15, it is said : “ The Lord God took the man, and put him into the garden of Eden, to dress it and to keep it. And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat ; but of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it; for in the day thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely die.” This is the only language in this whole account which can be made even a pretext for this theory of a covenant. And every word in it is at variance with every idea of a covenant. Instead of an agreement between two parties, there is an imperative command given in the most authoritative manner by one party, without even a promise of obe- dience by the other party. For anything the account gives us to the contrary, Adam may, at the very moment of hearing this command, have resolved to exercise his own choice as to whether he would obey or disobey. There is not a single instance, in the whole Old or New Testament, where the term covenant is used with reference to anything that oc- curred at the creation, or this account of the crea- tion or formation of man. And yet, as if expressly to contradict this account and all that is said in Scrip- ture on the subject, the 12th question of the West- minster Catechism is, “ What special act of prov- idence did God exercise toward man in the estate wherein he was created ? ” The answer is, “ When God had created man, he entered into a covenant of life with him, upon conditions of perfect obedience ; forbidding him to eat of the tree of knowledge of good and evil upon the pain of death.” But there is not a syllable of any such covenant, on any such 6 * 66 THE FIRST SIN. condition, in the Bible ; only a positive command on the part of God, implying capacity to obey or dis- obey on the part of man. “ The covenant being made not only for himself, but for his posterity ,” says the Catechism. This suggests the next inquiry. What is said about Ad- am’s posterity in the Genesis account? You have seen that, in the passage we have read, there is no allusion whatever to posterity. “ Thou shalt not eat,” — “ in the day thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die,” — is the emphatic language, without al- lusion to any other being than this man himself, — not even to his wife ; and according to the account it was after this — how many years after is not stated — that the woman was formed from part of this man’s body. But perhaps you may suppose them to have been directly referred to in what is called the curse, after Adam had sinned. All that is represented to have passed between God and Adam on that occasion is stated in the next chapter in these words : “ Unto Adam he said, Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it, — cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life ; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee, and thou shalt eat the herb of the field ; in the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground ; for out of it wast thou taken ; for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.” This is all that God is represented as having declared to Adam on that occasion, and you perceive that there THE FIRST SIN. 67 is not the remotest allusion to posterity ; and as to anything that is said to have occurred between God and Adam, the whole idea of posterity, good or bad, is a gratuitous assumption. To the woman God is represented as declaring that she should become the mother of children, without a word descriptive of the nature or character of the children, whether good or bad, sinful or sinless. So obvious is the utter groundlessness of this theory, as far as Scripture is concerned. But still further says the Catechism, 11 All man- kind sinned in him, and fell with him in his first transgression.” That is, all mankind sinned and fell before a single human being had been born. Deplorable condition of us all ! Every one of us was guilty of sin, six thousand years ago. If we were capable of guilt and sin so many centuries be- fore we had existence, how melancholy are our prospects now! infirm mortals, living here amidst so many wrongs, temptations, and evil influences. But not to insist upon Scriptural authority for this doctrine, suppose a covenant had been made (ac- cording to the creed) between God and Adam, is it supposable for an instant that God would im- pose such conditions? would make the guilt or innocence, the ceaseless happiness or eternal sin and pain and misery, of all the countless millions of human beings that have lived, and do live, and may yet live, depend on one act of one man, who is said to have been so ignorant as not to know the difference between good or evil, — one act of one man, who was so weak as to be unable to resist what was, as far as we know, the very first temptation 68 THE FIRST SIN. that was offered to him ? Is it at all conceivable, that heaven with all imaginable bliss, or hell with all possible horrors, — peace, joy, and felicities eternal, or wrath, agony, fire, and burnings everlasting, — to Noah, Abraham, and Moses, John, Peter, and Paul, and every human being besides, were suspended on that one act of that one weak man ? This theory reverses the whole order of nature and justice. If there be any transfer of guilt at all, Adam should be held responsible for every sin that we commit, and the guilt of all of us, past, present, and to come, should be heaped upon his devoted head, to weigh down his dark, suffering soul through an eternity of eternities. This could be only sufficient punish- ment for presuming to enter into such a covenant, and consenting to such conditions ; for of course it could be no covenant, if he did not voluntarily agree to the terms. If he were forced to stand in that position, then it was no covenant, but an act of omnipotent tyranny. If the supernal powers saw Adam forced into that awful attitude, then we could not wonder that, as Milton in his poetic frenzy represents, Satan and his friendly hosts should rebel against such monstrous oppression, but rather we might wonder that a single angel, archangel, cherub, or seraph should be content to remain in heaven. We should wonder rather that they should not all plunge down together with the arch-fiend, with him exclaiming : — “ Here at least We shall be free : the Almighty hath not built Here for his envy ; will not drive us hence ; Here may we reign secure, and in our choice, To reign is worth ambition, though in hell. Better to reign in hell, than serve in [such a] heaven.” THE FIRST SIN. 69 But stop, says one; you are forgetting Paul; he says (1 Cor. xv. 22), “ As in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.” Yes, but be less hasty in your reading, friend. Paul does not say, “ As in Adam all sinned, even so in Christ shall all be delivered from the effects of sin.” There is no allu- sion in the passage to Adam’s sin, or any other person’s sin. Still you say, u In Adam all die.” True, but still you read too rapidly. Paul does not say that “ in Adam all died,” — all did die, — but “ as in Adam all die ” ; he speaks in the present tense. Certainly if all men had died in Adam, no one would be living now ; and had we all died six thou- sand years ago in Adam, it would have relieved us all of life’s vexations, for then we should never have had existence. Besides, you must be careful not to bring Paul into conflict with the other Scripture writers, who tell us that both Enoch and Elijah were translated, or removed from this world with- out the agency of death. Since the passage does not signify what you sup- posed, what does it mean ? you ask. The passage is one of many, which, like Jesus himself, have been falsely accused, and nailed to the cross of theological systems, and made to suffer exceedingly. It is sim- ply a sentence used as a rhetorical illustration, in the midst of an argument in support of existence after what we call death. The preposition in being changed to with , which it should be, the passage is clear enough. Paul, being a Jew, goes back to the Jewish writings for his illustration, and he says, “ As with — in like manner with — Adam all men now die, even so — in like manner — with the Christ shall all be 70 THE FIRST SIN. made alive.” There is no reference to the condition of the life, whether good or bad, happy or unhappy. But then again do you remind me that Paul says, “ By one man’s disobedience many were made sin- ners , so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous.” Precisely so ; — but by the dis- obedience of the one man to whom he refers, Paul does not tell us how many were made sinners, he only says many. And it is as true to-day as it was when Paul wrote it, that the evil influence of one man’s bad example is not easily limited, and who of us has not had fall upon him the poisonous shadow of some other one’s bad habits? Those who follow the example of that one man, Adam, may rely upon their becoming sinners ; and those who imitate that other one, Jesus, may by righteous deeds become conquerors over sin. But they who ^have never heard of Adam, if they become sinners it cannot be through his example ; and they who have never heard of Jesus, however righteous they become, must be unaided by the light of his example. Still you say, God brought destruction on the world because he “ saw that the wickedness of man was great, and every imagination of his heart was only evil continually.” In reply, I ask, are you to interpret this, so as to make Moses contradict his emphatic and unqualified declaration (Gen. vi. 9), “ Noah was a just man and perfect in his genera- tions, and Noah walked with God ” ? David in his shame and grief exclaims concern- ing himself, that he was “ conceived in sin and brought forth in iniquity.” But because David under a sense of personal guilt and self-abasement THE FIRST SIN. 71 spoke thus, — David, who had been even till manhood one of remarkable purity and excellence, but with his accession to power had become so perverted, that he had grossly invaded the sacred sanctuary of domes- tic virtue, and to his dark passions added the crime of murder, till his hands bore “ smell of blood that all the perfumes of Arabia would not sweeten,” — it cannot be argued from his exclamations that he either asserted or believed that every human being “ is conceived in sin and bom in iniquity.” Because he thought his own heart to be u deceitful above all things and desperately wicked,” we are not to con- tend, directly against our personal observation and experience, that all hearts are, or that David thought or intended to allege that all hearts are, naturally deceitful above all things and desperately wicked. If this were true of David’s heart, there is no good evidence that it has been true of any other human heart, either before or since the time of David. When it is said, “ There is none that doeth good, no, not one,” — you cannot understand it so as to contradict the established facts of the world’s history, — facts which show that the most depraved and cruel being that ever lived has done some good, — you cannot so in- terpret such general exclamations of David, as to contradict the distinct declaration of Luke (i. 6), that Zacharias and Elizabeth “were both righteous be- fore God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord, blameless.” And Zacharias and Elizabeth were not Christians either, but Jews. They had no Westminster Confession and Cate- chism, — they had no Thirty-nine Articles. They had never dreamed or heard of total depravity, vicarious 72 THE FIRST SIN. atonement, or any one of the doctrines or external rites now regarded by so many as absolutely essen- tial to salvation. Yet u they were both righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord, blameless.” The 26th question of the Larger Catechism says, “ Original sin is conveyed from our first parents unto their posterity by natural generation, so as all that proceed from them in that way are conceived and born in sin.” The answer to the next question says, “ The fall brought upon mankind the loss of communion with God, his displeasure and curse ; so we are by nature children of wrath, bond-slaves of Satan, and justly liable to all punishment in this world, and that which is to come.” As a fair offset to this, read this explicit language of the Hebrew prophet Ezekiel (xviii. 20): “ The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son ; the right- eousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him.” Now you may judge between the inventors of the Westminster Catechism, and the prophet Ezekiel. With which lies the weight of reason and authority? But permit me to remind you, in quoting this assertion that “ Original sin is conveyed from our first parents unto their posterity by natural genera- tion, — that we are conceived and born in sin, and by nature bond-slaves to Satan,” — that it is not the language of an effete and obsolete creed. Not by any means. It is the creed of the whole Presby- terian Church, Old and New School, of the Unit- ed States, numbering thousands of the respectable THE FIRST SIN. 73 men and women of every State in the Union, — a creed in which every minister, ruling elder, or deacon of the Presbyterian Church is required, be- fore ordination, to express his belief. This is therefore the doctrine believed and taught by every honest minister and elder (and we must suppose them all sincere) in the Church. But this is not all. I give you another section of this same Confession now believed. I do not know how many members of that Church — all of whom are expected to know and believe, — I do not know how many have read this, or how many who have read it actually believe it. (Chap. X. sect. 3.) “ Elect infants dying in infancy are regenerated and saved by Christ, through the Spirit, who worketh when, and where, and how he pleaseth. So also are all other elect persons, who are incapable of being outwardly called by the ministry of the word.” Then sect. 4 says : “ Others not elected, although they may be called by the ministry of the word, and may have some common operations of the Spirit, yet they never truly come to Christ, and cannot therefore be saved.” How many intelligent men and women really know, from personal examination, in what doctrines they are professing their faith, when they subscribe to this Confession, by becom- ing members of that Church ? Here let me recall to your minds a passage from the creed of the Andover Theological Seminary, a creed which, by the terms of the founder of the institution, every Professor in it is required ev- ery five years to declare on oath that he believes. The passage is this : — “ That Adam, the federal 7 74 THE FIRST SIN. head and representative of the human race, was placed in a state of probation, and that in conse- quence of his disobedience all his descendants were constituted sinners ; that by nature every man is per- sonally depraved, destitute of holiness, unlike and opposed to God, and that, previously to the renew- ing agency of the Divine Spirit, all his moral actions are adverse to the character and glory of God ; that being morally incapable of recovering the lost image of his Creator which was lost in Adam, every man is justly exposed to eternal damnation.” This is the creed which the Professors are bound by an oath, renewed every five years, to believe and teach in a Theological Seminary, which probably sends out annually over the United States more ministers than any other institution, except perhaps Prince- ton. We have now examined this common doctrine of the covenant with Adam. We have found that the account in Genesis, so far from declaring a covenant made between Adam and God, says not one word about a covenant between God and Adam, or between Adam and any other being ; but simply gives a command on the part of God, implying in Adam the capacity to obey or disobey that com- mand. Still further, we find that Adam, so far from making a covenant not only for himself, but for his posterity, had no posterity till after his sin, and that, in all the consequences declared to follow upon his sin, no posterity are in any way alluded to. And we see, moreover, that the assertion that all mankind sinned in him, and fell with him in his first transgression, is untrue in fact, absurd in rea- THE FIRST SIN. 75 son, and impossible in the very nature of things. No being could sin and fall, act and incur guilt be- fore he is born ; and especially we at this day, six thousand years at least from Adam, could not, so long before we had existence, act and incur re- sponsibility, and sin and become guilty. Moreover, we see that, even on the supposition that Adam had made a covenant involving all man- kind in evil, it is reversing the whole order of nature, propriety, and justice, for his descendants to be deemed guilty for the evil he entailed upon them ; for justice would require that he should bear the guilt of all mankind, instead of mankind becoming guilty for his sin ; that it would be as unjust and cruel in God to punish all mankind for the acts and guilt of Adam, as to punish Jesus for the acts and guilt of all mankind. And we see that the partic- ular passages from Paul’s writings, and the other parts of Scripture, to prove this doctrine of all men becoming sinners by the act or by the covenant of one man, cannot be so interpreted without bringing those passages into direct contradiction of other passages of Scripture, which inform us in the clear- est manner that Noah was just before God and per- fect in his generation, that Enoch walked with God and had this testimony that he pleased God, that Zacharias and Elizabeth were righteous before God, walking in all the commandments of the Lord blameless, and that Nathanael was an Israelite with- out guile; and because such an interpretation ex- pressly contradicts the teaching of Jesus concerning children, “ Of such is the kingdom of heaven.” Moreover, we perceive that the common supposi- 76 THE FIRST SIN. tion, that labor was a punishment or curse on Adam for his sin, is utterly unfounded, positively contradict- ed ; for long before, we know not how long before, his sin, before the woman was formed, at his creation, it is distinctly stated, he was placed in the garden to dress it and keep it. So that labor was with Adam, as it is with us, one of the ends of his existence, the condition of his support and improvement, — not a curse, but a blessing. And we also see, that natural death was not a curse or punishment on Adam for his sin, but, like labor, was one of the conditions of his being. In declaring that he should eat his bread by the sweat of his face, till he should return to the ground from, which he was taken, it is clearly implied, that he would under any circumstances have restored his body to the ground. The reason of his bodily death is explicitly given, “ because dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return.” Moreover, had it been a curse, there is not a syllable to warrant the applica- tion to any other than Adam himself; for all that is said, is said to Adam alone, without reference to pos- terity, and without reference even to Eve, his wife. It is unnecessary, or I might furnish you a catalogue of names of the most eminent scientific clergymen of every denomination, Roman Catholic and Protes- tant, who now repudiate the idea of death being a curse on animals and men, because of Adam’s sin. As these same men clearly show, the statements of the Bible agree perfectly with the volume of nature, in declaring by the strata of matter which compose the earth, that millions of animals lived and died ages before Adam had existence*, that THE FIRST SIN. 77 the very dust composing Adam’s body had probably undergone a thousand transformations, and com- posed the body of many an animal during the pre- ceding ages; and that natural death, so far from being a curse, a king of terrors, is a blessing, a heav- enly messenger, disenthralling the soul from its ma- terial tenement, from a decaying encumbrance, that the freed spirit may rise to a spiritual, ever progress- ing, immortal life. Now, friends, I again urge you, with all the ear- nestness of my soul, to submit these questions to the most thorough examination. Prevailing systems of doctrines concerning the nature of God, and con- cerning human nature, are not founded on the ex- plicit language of the Bible ; but on old and barba- rous traditions, which have been brought by Chris- tians from the several religions to which they origi- nally belonged, and from which they were convert- ed to Christianity. On this unscriptural theory of the fall of all men, the guilt of all men, in and with Adam, are based the doctrines of total depravity, and of arbitrary election, and of vicarious atone- ment. It is the corner-stone of the prevailing the- ology. It is the fountain of evil from which have been flowing streams of error, for century after cen- tury, over the Christian world. Certainly, if for a thousand years before the day of Luther the whole Christian Church was immersed in degrading superstition and vice scarcely supe- rior to the darkest darkness of Paganism, — and he then brought truth and virtue and righteousness into a clearer light, — surely it is time now that we all, in the determined spirit of Luther, should bring 7 * 78 THE FIRST SIN. truth into a still clearer light, and decide on the au- thority or the groundlessness of this doctrine of the origin of sin, — this doctrine of man’s guilt before he is born, — which is now deemed a fundamental doctrine. As much now as in the time of Luther is needed an effectual shaking among the dry bones of a theology, which has been framed and re-framed, by councils of violent and angry church disputants, to suit the times in which it was formed, but which is unsupported by any rational interpretation of the Bible, and refuted by the consciousness of every intelligent being. It is full time, that reason and science and history and experience should be considered in the interpretation of Scripture lan- guage, and that atheism and infidelity should not for ever be permitted to point the finger of scorn at the Bible, as a boot which they allege controverts nature, and cannot therefore be from nature’s God, for God never contradicts himself. Scripture and nature harmonize completely, when reasonably com- pared, and it is time this should be fully verified, and men delivered from the bondage of distrust and fear. But no, no, say churches and theologians ; you sinned in Adam before you were born, sixty centuries ago; your nature is corrupt; your reason is depraved ; history is false, and experience is falla- cious. Yes, this is the tyranny this revolting doctrine is practising on the world. It robs you of your di- vine dignity, deprives you of the exerpise of reason, and then dooms you to woe for your misfortune. You seek for knowledge, and light, and truth ; but it tells you that you are spiritually, naturally blind, THE FIRST SIN. 79 and could not know the truth if found by you ; that your conscience cheats you, and your experience de- ceives you, and you are a helpless, miserable wretch, and you must submit yourself to the guidance of the church, and obey the preacher who has been illu- minated by the special grace of God. Be men , worthy of your divine lineage , throw off the spirit- ual yoke, and stand forth in the unobstructed sun- light of divine love, communing freely with your Father and your God. Obey the injunction of Jesus himself \ “ Why even of yourselves judge ye not what is right ? ” DISCOURSE VI. THE IMMORAL TENDENCIES OF THE COMMON DOC- TRINE OF VICARIOUS ATONEMENT. Men sometimes possess pictures, which they re- gard as correct likenesses and admirable specimens of art ; but they are suspended in drawing-rooms, and are rarely looked at and seldom thought of, ex- cept when some guest presumes to criticise, and doubt their correctness and question the good taste of their possessors. Men possess books, which per- haps they once read, approve, and place upon their shelves, to rest quietly in their owner’s library, unob- served and perhaps unremembered, till- some visitor and reader presumes to call in question the philos- ophy of the book which has at one time received the approbation of its owner. It is the same with sys- tems of religious doctrines. Some men receive a doctrine or a system of doctrines, perhaps submit it to a cursory examination, perhaps to no examina- tion, but receive it implicitly on the authority of friends or teachers, approve it as no doubt logical and Scriptural, and, having thus decided on a relig- ious faith, go undisturbed about their ordinary pur- THE VICARIOUS ATONEMENT. 81 suits, — their doctrines, their religion, remaining qui- etly at home with the picture in the drawing-room or the volume in the library, — the possessors of this religious faith being governed in all the pursuits of life by the laws, and rules, and usages, and influ- ences, which control society. But scarcely any relig- ious doctrine is entirely a dead letter, however great- ly modified in its tendency by social influences. Of the prevailing system of doctrines, no one is more universally or frequently enforced, nor is there any one more objectionable in its practical tendencies, than the doctrine of vicarious atonement, in its va- rious phases or theories of redemption, substitution, and satisfaction. First, it is objectionable because it tends to con- fuse our minds, and degrade our conception of the Supreme Deity. It represents one part of the God- head as sacrificing or atoping to another. The wrath of the Father is appeased, his justice satis- fied ; but to the Son and Holy Spirit no satisfaction has been made. And no atonement has been made to God, for all of them make God ; one part has made atonement to another, while a third part neither gives nor receives satisfaction. One theory degrades God by making him a mere combatant of the Devil, who is represented as one of his own creatures, who is contesting with the Almighty the government of the universe ; and in the end, it is to be difficult to know who is lord or victor, for the enemy of God, notwithstanding all God’s plans of salvation, is to be the eternal master of the great- er part of God’s human creation. Another theory degrades God by representing him as vindictive, 82 THE IMMORAL TENDENCIES OF THE and inexorable, toward man ; that he has pro- nounced a sentence against all mankind, and in his vengeance is determined it shall be executed, unless an equivalent is offered to him, and his anger is bought off by a price. I may ask here, as has been asked before, “ What real economy is there in the transaction ? What is effected, save the transfer of penal evil from the guilty to the innocent? If the great Redeemer, in the excess of his goodness, con- sents, freely offers himself to the Father, or to God, to receive the penal woes of the world in his own person, what does it signify, when that offer is ac- cepted, but that God will have his modicum of suf- fering somehow, if he lets the guilty go, — will yet satisfy himself out of the innocent ? In which [pro- ceeding] the divine government, instead of clearing itself, assumes the double ignominy, first, of letting the guilty go, and secondly, of accepting the suffer- ings of innocence ! ” (Bushnell.) The practical tendency of this degrading view of God is apparent, now, in the preaching and worship of the churches. Christian worshippers offer to God the worship of fear, but to Jesus the worship of love. They seem to shudder at approaching God as approaching an enemy, while they seem with confidence to seek for Jesus, as a friend. They worship God as an awful, inexorable Sovereign, while they pray to Jesus as a kind Mediator, a tender intercessor, interposing be- tween human frailty and divine anger ; and not con- tent with this, the majority of the Christian world, at this hour, pray to Mary, the mother of Jesus, as the Mother of God, to exercise her maternal influ- ence, and avert the vengeance of her Son. Enter COMMON DOCTRINE OF VICARIOUS ATONEMENT. 83 the churches called Episcopal, everywhere, and when, in repetition of the creed, the name of Jesus is ut- tered, every head is bent in grateful homage, while * not a muscle is moved at the august name of “ God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth.” Such is the degraded conception of God which this doctrine occasions in the minds of worshippers. But further, the common doctrine of vicarious atonement is objectionable, because of its immoral tendency, in confusing all our ideas of justice , and degrading the justice of God below the justice of man. For no human government now existing could act upon the principle involved in the doc- trine of vicarious atonement, and exist for a single month. Human governments on this theory are stricter in their justice than the Divine government, for they neither demand, nor will accept, the penalty of the law from any other than the guilty person, the offender. Let us see how this vicarious justice would operate under human governments. The fifty men who were so summarily despatched at Havana were taken under circumstances which, to say the least, might lead the Cubans to suspect hostile de- signs on the part of these men. With some show of justice, having tried and found them guilty, sen- tence of death was pronounced. But instead of executing these men, suppose the government had said, We will acquit these men, provided we can ob- tain a substitute of sufficient dignity to suffer and satisfy the demands of our law. Suppose the Gov- ernors of Louisiana and Florida to have been pres- ent to intercede for the prisoners, and the government should propose to accept them as substitutes for the 84 THE IMMORAL TENDENCIES OF THE fifty prisoners, and as a last resort they generously agree, and on these conditions the prisoners are dis- charged, and the two Governors are taken out on the public square and executed. Much as the world might have admired the generous heroism of the Governors, what would the world have said of this act of the Cuban government? That it was fair and just? Would not an exclamation of horror have burst from every civilized nation of the globe at this act of monstrous inhumanity ? Could any human power have prevented thousands from rising, in their irrepressible indignation, and with a stroke sweeping that government from the face of earth ? When during the Revolutionary contest Major Andre was arrested as a spy, military justice pronounced on him sentence of death. But suppose that, instead of executing the sentence, Washington had accepted General Lafayette as a substitute, and, discharging Andre who had been pronounced guilty, had hung Lafayette by the neck until he was dead. Would this have been considered satisfying justice ? Would not every soldier in the army have cursed Washing- ton, as a monster of cruelty? Would they not at once have unanimously deposed him from his com- mand, and, instead of living for ever as the father of his country, would not the name of Washington have lived only in company with those of Nero and Caligula, to have received the execrations of succes- sive generations ? It is but a few months since two negroes were legally tried in this city for the crime of murder. The legal justice of the State pronounced - them guilty. But instead of executing the sentence of the law, suppose the Governor of Tennessee had COMMON DOCTRINE OF VICARIOUS ATONEMENT. 85 proposed to discharge the criminals, provided the honorable chief magistrate of Nashville should suf- fer the penalty pronounced on them ; and he, accept- ing the proposal, had been executed on the gallows, and the criminals released. Would this have been regarded as satisfying' justice ? Or would not the Governor, instead of retiring with distinguished hon- or, have been driven in disgrace before the unani- mous indignation of an outraged people ? Yet this appalling cruelty in man is what this doctrine calls satisfying the justice of God. And thus is the im- mutable attribute of Deity changed from a ground of human confidence into a cause of human terror. For what human being can repose confidence in the perfect justice of God, when the only idea he can entertain of the justice of God is one of the most re- volting cruelty? For the government of this State to act on this idea of justice, and to be obedient to the injunction of Jesus, “Be ye perfect even as your Father in heaven is perfect,” the Governor should persuade the wisest and purest among the dignita- ries of the Commonwealth to satisfy the demands of justice , endure the penalty pronounced against the criminals of the state-prison, while they should be released from confinement and discharged from obli- gation. But this doctrine of atonement is further objec- tionable, because of its immoral tendency to foster the spirit of dissension and of ivar. Jesus is styled the Prince of Peace ; Christianity is called the re- ligion of peace, and its chief design, it is declared, is to bring peace on earth and to produce good-will among men. But it is doubtful whether any relig- 8 86 THE IMMORAL TENDENCIES OF THE ion that ever blessed or cursed the world has caused more blood to flow by persecutions among its own devotees, than what has called itself Christianity. And this cruel, bloodthirsty, vindictive, and unfor- giving spirit, among the professed believers of Chris- tianity, in direct contradiction to the plainest teach- ings of Jesus, is fairly attributable in a great degree to this doctrine of vicarious atonement, — inexorable divine vengeance demanding satisfaction, determined to have blood, if not of the guilty, then the shed blood of innocence. Can human beings be expect- ed to be less resentful, more forgiving, than their God ? If God will have his modicum of suffering, if God will have his “ pound of flesh,” somehow, from one or from another, from the wicked or the righteous, then is it not unreasonable in the highest degree to expect, feeble, irritable, passionate man to love his enemies, and bless them that persecute him, and do good to them that hate him? Surely, this is expecting man to be superior to his Maker. A doc- trine which makes God a Shylock, cannot expect man to be an angel. This hour, there are probably in the world called Christian more weapons of death, more instruments expressly invented and fabricated for the destruction of human life, than in all the Mahometan and Pagan world besides. And we have only to read the pages of 'ecclesiastical history, to read the heart-rending history of Christian men, and women and their chil- dren, slaughtered by tens of thousands by Christian men, because of a difference of opinion in the inter- pretation of some words of this book called the Bi- ble. It is not long since men were condemned and COMMON DOCTRINE OF VICARIOUS ATONEMENT. 87 burned ; but now and here our laws protect us from the fire and sword. Still, what the laws permit to be done is done, and here in this community, within a few weeks, a minister and half a dozen men constitute themselves a church tribunal, and arraign one of their neighbors, a man of irreproach- able character, refuse him the privilege which he re- quests of silently withdrawing from their worship, and, acknowledging that they find no fault in him, brand him with what they regard as the reproach of heresy, and suspend him, and threaten to ex- communicate him, unless he retract, and change his opinions ; his only sin being that he interprets some language of Scripture differently from them. It is thus that men, imitating their God, exact their atonement and satisfy their justice. Thus man, “ Dressed in a little brief authority, Plays such fantastic tricks before high Heaven As make the angels weep.” Thus men assume the office of champions of God ; and thinking his honor intrusted to their custody, they feel authorized to fight God’s battles, and sub- due his enemies. One of the most eminent living clergymen of this country declares that “ the great end of God is war and conquest. The incarnate God is not chiefly an educator, but a warrior. There is a God, and a king and a kingdom to be destroyed, and he is the great destroyer.” Such ministers may pray for a reign of love and charity and peace ; but it is crying Peace! peace! when there is no peace, and can be none while the chief office of God is represented to be that of a warrior, a mere combatant of the Devil, 88 THE IMMORAL TENDENCIES OF THE who is regarded as his great enemy. Ministers may exhort their auditors to shun resentful and vindictive feelings ; but what avail such exhortations, when accompanied with arguments to convince them that God executes vengeance, and exacts the penalty to the utmost, and that not only upon the sinful, but upon the sinless ? Men desire not to be better, holier, than their Deity. They do not aspire to such a su- periority ; they are content to fall far short of such a standard. There is too much truth in that remark attributed to a British statesman, that, “inasmuch as God has made man in his own image, man has re- turned the compliment, and made God in his image.” It is a melancholy fact, a standing reproach to the profession, that among clergymen, as a class, towards each other, there is less fraternal feeling, less social intercourse, less delicate courtesy, less true gentle- manly bearing, than among members of any other profession or any other class of society. Each one, with a haughty, frigid self-complacency, seems to feel himself dignified as the special conservator of divine truth, and so he passes by on the other side from his clerical neighbor, thanking God that he is not as other men, not even as that publican. Men imitate the Deity they worship, and such a poison- ous tree as that of vicarious atonement could only produce such deadly fruit. Still further, this doctrine is objectionable, because of its immoral tendency to weaken the sense of hu- man obligation. If Jesus assumed the obligations of the world, if all their sins and guilt were antici- pated centuries before their birth, and the full penal- ty of infinite suffering paid, — and there cannot pos- COMMON DOCTRINE OF VICARIOUS ATONEMENT. 89 sibly be more than infinite suffering, — men, notwith- standing the continual self-contradictory preaching as to human duty, will argue that human agency has nothing to do in the matter of their salvation. What obligation are men under to God, when he has exacted the full payment of their debt from an indorser, who assumed their obligations before they had existence, and discharged the whole debt in ad- vance of its contraction ? Men feel that God is bound to meet his engagement, and has no claim on them, can justly exact nothing, their indorser having to the very utmost met his inexorable demands. Men feel that they owe God nothing, and it is unjust for him to ask anything of them. Deity demanded sat- isfaction, and satisfaction he has obtained, — what more does he want ? This language is painful ; but the subject demands it. But after describing the dealings of the Infinite in the language of debtor and creditor, and degrading the sublime death of Jesus into a mere bloody signature to a certificate of discharge from obligation, on the ground of uni- versal bankruptcy, preachers continue to be singu- larly amazed at the coldness and indifference of men to the claims of the Gospel. Claims of the Gospel ! By this theory, what claims can the Gospel have on men ? Has Jesus failed to answer these claims to the utmost for the world ? Or did he only answer them partially, — only on conditions, — suffer infinite wrath, equivalent to eternal misery, only to give man a chance of doing as he pleased, a chance of attain- ing endless felicity or securing his own damnation ? What a tissue of absurdities and immoralities does this doctrine place before us at every turn ! It is 8 * 90 THE IMMORAL TENDENCIES OF THE useless for preachers to treat the repugnance of rea- son and affection to this doctrine as the sign of a depraved and graceless heart. It is nothing beyond truth to say, as some one has said, that some men feel, “ that to accept the offer of such a doctrine would be unworthy of a noble heart; for he who would not rather be damned, than escape through the sufferings of innocence and sanctity, is so far from the qualifications of a saint, that he has not even the magnanimity of Milton’s fiends.” Why should the clergy so deplore the unright- eousness of men who profess Christianity, when they themselves are daily teaching those men, that righteousness is dangerous, that man’s righteous- ness is worse than nothing, because he may rely up- on his righteous deeds as the conditions of inward peace and the grace of God, by which means his good works become the means of his perdition? He must repudiate all righteous deeds, as being wholly valueless, and must rely solely on the merits of Christ. It is dangerous in the extreme to have any merit of our own. We must attach no merit what- ever to any deeds of ours. Too much, alas ! too much is this doctrine re- duced to practice. It is not wonderful, but perfect- ly consistent with the religious instructions which many men receive, that we frequently see those who are most devout on Sunday the most dishonest on Monday; those who on Sunday sing loudest, and pray longest, and groan deepest, and look gravest, all through the week take the greatest advantage, pay the least regard to truth, are everything but be- nevolent, and scorn amiability as a weakness. Hon- COMMON DOCTRINE OF VICARIOUS ATONEMENT. 91 esty, truthfulness, good-will, and courtesy ! what are these but morality ? and morality is dangerous, says the preacher, and the hearer echoes it. It is religion that is the essential thing. Religion with- out morality is a whited sepulchre. Christian mo- rality without religion is a contradiction in terms. Merit! righteousness! you can have none, says the preacher; you must rely solely on the merits and righteousness of Christ; and the hearer echoes it, and he lives so as to do something like justice to the preacher’s teachings. Sins ! what has the man to do with sins ? of course he sins, but Jesus is a “ good legal tender” for his sins, and the account is always kept square, — provided only — if sufficient inconsistency be tolerated to have any provision in the case — provided he have religion ; that is, attends punctually to what the preacher calls the “ means of grace,” goes to church promptly, listens attentively, prays fervently in the prayer-meeting, calls himself with great ardor “the very chief of sinners,” and then on Monday morning proves the truth of his acknowledgments, by showing that, if not the very chief of sinners, it is his misfortune, not his fault, for he does the best to make his con- fession good. Some years ago, the whole country was agitated by what were termed revivals of religion. Hear what Mr. Finney, one somewhat notorious among revivalists, says now, at this distance of time look- ing round upon the remains of those efforts. “ Where are the proper results of the glorious revivals we have had ? I believe they were genuine revivals of religion, and outpourings of the Holy Ghost, that 92 THE IMMORAL TENDENCIES OF THE the Church has enjoyed the last ten years. I be- lieve the converts of the last ten years are among the best Christians in the land. Yet, after all, the great body of them are a disgrace to religion. Of" what use would it be to have a thousand members added to the Church, to be just such as are now in it? Would religion be any more honored by it, in the estimation of ungodly men ? Of what use is it to convert sinners, and make them feel that there is something in religion, and then, when they go to trade with you, or meet you in the street, to have you contradict it all, and tell them by your conform- ity with the world, that there is nothing in it ? ” Such are the issues of what he believes to be “ genuine outpourings of the Holy Ghost.” But what, in the name of reason, would such a preacher expect, after having given to these converts assur- ance that Jesus satisfied divine justice, and they are relieved from the burdens of their guilt ? Their whole debt being cancelled, and everything they have being clear, unembarrassed capital, it is the most natural thing in the world that they should recommence business, open a new account in sin, with the comfortable assurance of a similar acquit- tal at another outpouring of the Holy Ghost. This doctrine is immoral in its tendency, as unscriptural and unreasonable in itself. This doctrine of vicarious atonement is immoral, I contend, in all its logical tendencies. Because it degrades our conception of the Supreme Being, by making one part of God submit to suffering and murder in order to appease the wrath and satisfy the justice of another part. It is immoral, because COMMON DOCTRINE OF VICARIOUS ATONEMENT. 93 it confounds all our ideas of justice, in making inno- cence to suffer in the room of guilt, in discharging the sinful, and punishing the sinless. It is immoral, because it fosters the spirit of bigotry and of war, by causing men to imitate its representation of God, in resentment, vindictiveness, retaliation, cruelty, bloodthirstiness, and by justifying intolerant and uncharitable action. This doctrine is immoral in its tendency, because it weakens the sense of human obligation, by repre- senting the entire burden of guilt to have been placed on Jesus, by making him pay the whole debt of the world’s sin. It thus becomes equivalent to a divine certificate qualifying men for evil, — an indulgence authorizing men to commit sin, — a system for cher- ishing which Protestants so bitterly denounce the Church of Rome. It is immoral, because it destroys in men’s minds the necessary connection between acts and their effects, — the invariable law, by which wrong is followed by retribution ; it closes men’s eyes to the very facts of hourly experience, and en- courages men to look for a theory to exempt them- selves from the effects of wrong, instead of a princi- ple, and purity, and purpose, that will preserve them from the commission of wrong. It is immoral, be- cause it dissociates religion from morality, and piety from the concerns of common life, by substituting a mystical faith for actual beneficence, a mere belief for positive good works, formal prayers for pure prac- tices and outward rites for inward holiness. This doctrine is immoral, because it tends to retard all true social, intellectual, and moral progress, by de- preciating human efforts, and undervaluing human 94 THE IMMORAL TENDENCIES OF THE science, human wisdom, benevolence, and righteous deeds. In the thirty-nine articles which form the creed of one of the large and respectable denominations of this country, the thirteenth article says: “ Works done before the grace of Christ and the inspiration of his holy spirit are not pleasant to God.” The eighteenth article reads : “ They also are to be had accursed that presume to say, that every man shall be saved by the law or sect which he professeth, so that he be diligent to frame his life according to that law and the light of nature. For holy Scripture doth set out unto us only the name of Jesus Christ, whereby we must be saved.” The Westminster Shorter Catechism, which is learned and repeated by probably ten thousand chil- dren in the United States this day, says : 11 Christ executeth the office of a priest in his once offering up of himself a sacrifice to satisfy divine justice.” Again : “ Christ’s humiliation consisted in his under- going the miseries of this life, the wrath of God, the cursed death of the cross.” Truth is worth search- ing for, and when found richly does it repay the la- bor it has cost. There is no doctrine more frequent- ly enforced, in some one of its phases, than that of vicarious atonement. Examine it fearlessly, analyze it closely, trace it back to its origin, observe its ef- fects, and follow it out in its tendency, and decide upon its character. Decide upon its authority, de- termine whether, by any rule, principle, or process of interpretation, the Scripture, the Gospel record, is even to be forced or distorted into the support of such a doctrine. COMMON DOCTRINE OF VICARIOUS ATONEMENT. 95 Friends, I speak earnestly on this subject, for I feel deeply. This is no question to be dismissed from your minds, with your exit from this edifice to- night. I stand not here to entertain you, to help to kill the dulness of Sunday-time ; but, if possible, to awaken thought and quicken consciences. The truth on this question is of direct, personal, practi- cal, and perpetual interest to every man, — as much so as your statute-books, and day-books, and ledgers, your stocks and your exchanges, your bills payable and your bills receivable, your legislative business and your office business, your store business and your shop business, your home enjoyments, and your most private, sacred, inward happiness. Then if you have considered it, reconsider it, and still again consider it; weigh it solemnly in all its bearings, and, never presuming that you have found all truth, continue in unceasing pursuit of truth, and boldly, firmly, with more than the firm- ness of your mountain rock, yet with the Christian gentleness of a childlike spirit, hold fast ever to the good ; for good, like God, is eternal. DISCOURSE VII. FORGIVENESS OF SIN. WHEN HE WAS YET A GREAT WAY OFF, HIS FATHER SAW HIM, AND HAD COMPASSION ON HIM. — Luke XV. 20. IF WE CONFESS OUR SINS, HE IS FAITHFUL AND JUST TO forgive us. — 1 John i. 9. The more closely I observe, the more am I per- suaded that nearly all controversies, discussions, and even calm inquiries, might be narrowed down to a definition of terms, — an explanation of the sense in which we understand the words which we employ. For men are constantly using the same words as if they meant the same thing, when they differ widely in their meaning; and, again, using the same words as if attaching a different sense to them, while both are using them in exactly the same sense. Forgive- ness is a term frequently employed in Scripture, and it is often employed in the common language of life. There appears to prevail much confusion of ideas in connection with it. On coming to ex- amine closely the idea expressed by the term for- giveness , there seems indeed to be a peculiar indefi- niteness in the word itself, though it should stand FORGIVENESS OF SIN. 97 for a very definite idea. In a religious, or scriptural, or theological sense, it is said that God forgives man’s sins. Religion appears to be regarded by many, perhaps by most persons, by most Christians of every name, liberal and exclusive, as a plan, means, or agency by which men may obtain par- don, i. e. exemption from effects, entire justification from the Deity, for the commission of sin. That sinful acts are necessary appears to be as- sumed, so far that the chief object of Christianity, it is alleged, is to secure, in some way, pardon or forgiveness from God for committing those neces- sary acts; i. e. that the Supreme Ruler shall over- look, or forget entirely, by some means, the wrong which man does, and regard him with approbation, as if no sin had been committed. In consistency with this view, several things are taken for granted. First, it is taken for granted that men must sin. Next, it is taken for granted that God is personally angry with men, and will punish them, not retribu- tively, but vindictively, for sin. In the third place, it is taken for granted that God can, if he will, over- look, forget, or blot out, literally and entirely, the remembrance of men’s sins, or, in other words, that he can allow men to sin without allowing any evil consequences whatever to result from sinning. And finally, it is taken for granted, that, by the use of some certain means, men may conciliate the divine favor, induce God, or place him under obligation, to turn away the consequences of sin, and secure that which is expressed by the term forgiveness. The subject is one of universal, profound, and en- during interest, and worthy, therefore, of the most 9 98 FORGIVENESS OF SIN. earnest consideration. This consideration let us en- deavor to give to the subject in the simplest and plainest language possible. What is meant by forgiveness, either on the part of God towards man, or as exercised by man towards man ? To obtain something like a satisfactory reply to this inquiry, we are not to assume that sin is ne- cessary, that men must sin, and that to forgive is to remove responsibility for sinning, to deliver from the natural and just consequences of sinning. This would be simply to take everything for granted, and leave no room for inquiry. Further investigation would be useless. What, then, is sin ? In the words of St. Paul, sin is the transgression of law ; where there is no law, there is no transgression. What law is meant? In general terms, the law of our being, which is the law of God ; the laws established by the Creator for the government of man, and by which our physical and intellectual and spiritual existence and action must be ruled. Of some of the principles or laws which the Cre- ative Intelligence has established to govern our exist- ence and action, we are, in a greater or less degree, ignorant. With most of them, however, most men are acquainted. By intuition, or by reason, or by revelation, or by all combined, most men know when they do wrong; most men know when they violate the natural law, which, as proceeding from the Cre- ator, is also the divine law, which should rule the body, or the mind, or the spirit. But whether or not men know, to search for, to discover, and sub- mit to the principles or laws ordained by the Creator for our welfare, appears to be the chief end of our FORGIVENESS OF SIN. 99 temporal or visible existence. And in such inquiry, discovery, and submission consists our highest earth- ly happiness, our true well-being. And first, let us illustrate as to forgiveness be- tween man and man. What is effected when one person forgives another? A man with knowledge and design wrongs you in property and person. He thus occasions privation of outward comfort, bodily pain, and mental agony. What then is meant by your forgiving him ? Is it meant that the injury which he has done ceases to be an injury, in con- sequence of your pardon ? Does your forgiveness cause what was wrong to be no longer a wrong, but absolutely right, or blot it from existence and cause it to be nothing? Certainly not. Does your for- giveness of the injury restore to yourself your lost property, or recover to yourself your lost comfort and health ? Certainly not. But he may replace by other property that which he has destroyed ; he may measurably mitigate your pain of mind, and relieve your pain of body. Then does your forgiveness leave him innocent, as though he had never done the injury ? Does the time in which he did the wrong cease to be time ? does the property cease to be prop- erty ? does the pain cease to be pain ? is the act no longer an act? In a word, does your forgiveness cause all that was real to be unreal? does it anni- hilate fact ? does it make something to be nothing ? This is impossible, absolutely, in the very nature of things. Then what is meant by the pardoning or forgiving of that same wrong, by the Supreme Ruler? For wrong, or sin, being the transgression of the laws of 100 FORGIVENESS OF SIN. our being, whether the injury be immediately to our- selves, or to another, is equally sin against God, the author of those laws. When one prays for pardon for his sins, does he desire, and does he expect, that by forgiveness he is to be absolutely innocent, and the same as though he had never sinned? Does he desire and expect that God will annihilate the time in which he did wrong, and continue the thread of his existence as though no such time had ever been ? Does he de- sire and expect that forgiveness shall cause the fact of his actions to be no longer fact ? Or, in fine, does he desire and expect that by forgiveness God’s re- membrance, and his own remembrance, of the fact or identity of his act, shall at once and for ever perish ? If so, I only ask, does he not desire and expect what is against nature, against reason, against experience, against revelation, which declares all shall receive for the wrong they do, and against all that be himself knows of the world, or of man, or of God ? Or does he desire and expect either more or less than positive annihilation of his own being, the loss of his iden- tity? The question still remains with undiminished in- terest, What is meant by forgiveness ? Here we have to confess, that we are limited on every side, by the imperfection and ambiguity of human lan- guage, — we fail to express in terms the realities of thought and feeling. Let us here follow experience, and listen to her voice, as far as it is capable of dis- tinct enunciation, and bring the result to the inter- pretation of Scripture language. For an instance, — you are a parent; you desire FORGIVENESS OF SIN. 101 your child, under certain circumstances, to pursue a course which you carefully prescribe. In your ma- ture wisdom, you provide what you consider a suita- ble rule or law, by which the child is to be governed. Obedience to this law, on the part of the child, is to secure his own comfort, and your gratifying appro- bation. Disobedience is to bring injury upon him- self, and perhaps discomfort and even pain to you. Under the circumstances against which the law was provided, the child violates, transgresses the law, and brings upon himself the injury and pain which you declared and indicated as the legitimate result, in case of disobedience. We now readily perceive the mental condition of the child. He first experiences the bitterness of suf- fering brought upon himself by his own wrong act ; to this is superadded the thought of disobedience, — the feeling of guilt. How shall he meet the parent whom he has disobeyed, whose authority he has disregarded, whose law he has violated ? He shrinks from the look of reproach, he dreads the pain of punishment. True, he remembers the un- failing kindness of his parent ; but this remembrance only aggravates his sense of guilt; he reproaches him- self still more for his ungrateful disobedience. Still he seeks the presence of his parent sorrowfully, ac- knowledges his guilt, and implores forgiveness. You as the parent meet him ; you discover instantly the wrong that he has done ; you affectionately embrace your disobedient child ; you mingle your tears of compassion with his tears of anguish and repentance; you assure him of your pardon, of your aid, of your unabated love. He feels, he knows, that he is for- 9 * 102 FORGIVENESS OF SIN. given ; he no longer looks for your word of reproach, he no longer dreads to meet an angry countenance ; in your tears and smiles he sees the bow of promise, which gives him the fullest assurance of your par- doning love. But now that he is actually forgiven, does it cease to be a fact, that he disobeyed his parent, violated law, and brought suffering upon himself? While his wounded body lives, will it not bear the mark of the injury which he has inflicted on it? While memory remains, can he wholly forget his disobe- dience ? Can time be rolled back to cover the fact of his wrong-doing? Can a portion be taken out from the eternity of the past, and sunk into the dark- ness of oblivion ? This is something of which the mind can form no possible conception. Still he is forgiven, and now, with increased love, with a great- er debt of gratitude, he obeys and honors and re- veres his forgiving parent. Then for a parent to forgive a child is simply this, namely, for the parent to assure the child that no feeling of resentment is cherished, that he still loves the child with the true affection of a parent, although this assurance, this forgiveness, can never destroy the fact of the child’s disobedience, — can never efface from the child’s mind the capacity of remembering the wrong with which it has once been justly charge- able. . Now we must be careful not to press too far the analogy between the relation of a human parent to his child, and the relation of the Infinite Father to his earthly children. Neither can we press the lan- guage of the Scriptures, which is adapted to our im- FORGIVENESS OF SIN. 103 perfect conceptions of infinite perfection. For our view of God is only the view by a finite mind of a Being who is absolutely infinite. God is repre- sented in Scripture, now as being angry, now as being pleased, now resolving and now repenting, as now stretching out his hand, as now uttering his voice, now walking abroad, and now sitting on his throne. But these are all only the imperfect signs of absolute perfection and of absolute truth. You may be angry with your child, God cannot be angry. It is not a passion belonging to his nature. You may be pleased with your child, God cannot be literally pleased by us. For God is immutable and eternal. We literally can neither augment the pleas- ure, nor diminish the happiness of the One Infinite and absolutely Perfect. Now without considering each particular incident in the illustration by Jesus called the parable of the Prodigal Son, the parable, as a whole, illustrates forcibly, as it seems to me, the nature, conditions, and results of forgiveness. In its parts, it was de- signed to have a special signification to some of the persons to whom it was immediately addressed, but in the breadth of its spirit it affords a vivid repre- sentation of the repentant man and the forgiving God. The son, it is said, received his portion ; he voluntarily surrounded himself with evil influences; his resources were soon exhausted ; he found himself in a destitute and miserable condition. By this he was brought to reflection ; he remembered the kind- ness of his parent ; he resolved to return to the home of his childhood, to confess his guilt, implore forgive- ness, and enter upon a new and virtuous career. 104 FORGIVENESS OF SIN. He carried his resolution into effect ; he started for the paternal mansion ; his parent discovered him while yet at a great distance ; instantly the compas- sionate father divined the condition of his delinquent son; and, waiting for no confessions, asking no prom- ises, demanding no satisfaction, he ran and met him, and embraced him, assuring him at once of forgiveness and of favor, and of true affection. And now he is actually forgiven, i. e. he is assured of his father’s love, and no longer expects frowns, re- proach, and punishment; yet the health and time and treasure he has lost and misspent and wasted, are gone beyond all possible recovery. However he may improve the time to come, and whatever new health and treasure he may acquire, the evils he has brought upon himself, the wrong that he has done, can never cease to be facts, while the framework of the world remains ; nor can he cease to remember them, while he retains his personal identity. Now for man’s relation to God. Does God change towards man, or man towards God? Man received from God his portion, his high endowments as a moral being, for the improvement of which he is re- sponsible. He misuses and injures the powers in- trusted to him ; the consequences, sorrow, suffering, and remorse, soon appear. With his imperfect view of the Divine Being, he regards God as angry with him and inflicting punishment. He now humbles himself before the Great Intelligence, and while he is yet a great way off, while he yet dimly appre- hends the character of God, before he experiences that God is and always has been love, the compas- sion of the Heavenly Father meets him and comforts FORGIVENESS OF SIN. 105 him, by imparting to his troubled mind the assu- rance that God is not angry, but is ever gracious ; that God is not resentment, but is grace ; that God is not only a stern Judge, but a loving Father. He now feels that he is forgiven, but his forgiveness does not restore his mutilated body, does not of necessity strengthen his injured intellect, nor does it recall his misspent time. It is clear, then, that in the sense of entire exemp- tion from, a complete obliteration of, the natural re- sults of sin, the transgression of the laws of our being, the common expectation of forgiveness is unfound- ed. It is true, that, as in civil government, the oper- ation of one law is modified and restrained by the operation of another law ; so may the legitimate consequences of the violation of one law of our moral being be modified and restrained by the strict observance of another. But this is no departure from, but within, the established conditions of our existence. For within the whole range of human experience there is no warrant for the belief, there is no instance where it has ever occurred, that actual guilt has been converted into innocence, that wrong has been converted into right, or that the natural and legitimate consequences of the violation of the law of being have been wholly obliterated by any- thing called or understood to be forgiveness. The grace of God, as Scripture declares, is given to us that we may live soberly, righteously, and godly ; not that we may live sinfully, and escape the results of sin. The very term forgiveness is an accommodation to our imperfect conception of the perfect God. 106 FORGIVENESS OF SIN. Accordingly, when we find in Scripture the phrase “forgiveness of sins,” whatever it truly did signify to the minds of those who wrote or uttered it, we may not always clearly distinguish. But one thing, unquestionably, it does not signify to us; it does not signify complete exemption from the natural and just consequences of sin. The fact of having sinned can only perish with the individual himself. The marks and remembrance of the wrong can only cease with the person and the memory of the being who commits the wrong. Time and truth and in- nocence, once lost, can never, as all feel and know, be recovered, howsoever the effects of their loss may be moderated by time, and by subsequent fidelity to truth and virtue. New truth and new innocence may be acquired ; the lost innocence can never be regained. When we realize the natural result of sin, the vio- lation of the laws which rule our being, it is so or- dered, as one result of sin, that we regard God as angry with us, and inflicting arbitrary punishment upon us. In this frame of mind we seek relief in humble confession of our guilt, in reflection on our own misdeeds, and in contemplation of the Divine character. By this examination of ourselves, and contemplation of God, the mist which obscured our moral vision disappears, and we perceive more dis- tinctly the tenderness, the protection, the unceasing love, of the Supreme Father. The frown which our minds imagined on the countenance of the Deity passes away ; we find relief ; and this experience, be- cause no other words describe it, we call forgiveness. For at that same instant that we experience this FORGIVENESS OF SIN. 107 sense of pardon, we are the more humbled, the more profoundly reverent and grateful, because we remem- ber the wrong which we have done, the evil we have brought upon ourselves, the very marks of which we still bear about upon our bodies, and within our minds. The unchangeable God has not changed in feeling or in action, but our relation and feeling towards him have been changed by repentance and reform. Such are now, as far as we can discover, the na- ture and conditions of forgiveness, here in this world, and such, so far as we can discover them, they will be in all worlds, so long as man may need and call for forgiveness. Even for ever, if for ever there should by any possibility be any souls needing and calling for forgiveness, such will still be its na- ture and conditions; namely, not God changed to- ward us, but a restored consciousness in us of the eternal compassion of God, a sense of alienation re- moved, on condition of repentance, reform, confi- dence, and love. From these considerations, we perceive — as no one man by pardoning another can annihilate the fact of the injury which the other has done, nor efface the rememberance of guilt from the other’s mind — that by forgiveness, between man and man, we must understand simply this ; namely, the assurance, on the part of the one injured, that he will not retort upon the injurer the wrong which has been done by him ; that instead of anger, there shall be favor; instead of indignation, there shall be compassion ; instead of resentment, there shall be kindness ; in- stead of retaliation, there shall be self-control. 108 FORGIVENESS OF SIN. Whether from God towards man, or from man towards man, a correct understanding of forgive- ness, if a correct understanding be attainable, is a concern of the most practical, continued, and univer- sal moment, lest we persist in wronging others, or indulging in the violation of the laws which should rule our own nature, under the presumption that by the expression of good-will, by the disinclination to resentment, which we call forgiveness, guilt can be converted into innocence, vice into virtue, sin into holiness, and remorse into happiness ; — a presump- tion unwarranted by revelation, without a shadow of ground in reason, and against all human expe- rience. There can be no substitution of persons, no vicarious atonement, no annihilation of realities. It was thus, by his living, his teaching, and his dying for the truth, that Jesus proposed to save us from our sins ; to point out the only way by which we should work out our own salvation from the consequences of sin, both temporally and eternally, by saving from the sins themselves. Fellow- Christians, worshippers, and searchers after truth, let us earnestly endeavor not to darken the im- age of the Deity within our own bosoms. Let us not, by injustice, unkindness, inconsiderate passion, or other voluntary wrong, stain the mirror of the soul, which, when unimpaired, reflects truly the glory of the attributes of God. But when, in our weakness, we fall before temptation, let us hasten in humble penitence to that prayerful meditation which shall quicken our blunted spiritual faculties into a just perception of the immutable love of the Divine Father, which shall bind us all more closely, in bonds FORGIVENESS OF SIN. 109 of gratitude, to a life of more perfect purity. For the pure in heart never lose the sense of a Divine presence, never distrust the Infinite beneficence. God forgives me when I sin, not by a miraculous suspension of the natural operation of his laws, not by reversing the conditions of my being and destroy- ing my identity, — for he executes righteous judg- ment, rendering to every man according to every man’s own work, — but by affording to my imperfect, sorrowing, and bewildered spirit the comforting as- surance of his immutable goodness, infinite love, and perfect justice. Sorrow, penitence, and prayerful meditation are ministering angels to our troubled minds. “ How beautifully falls from human lips That blessed word, Forgive ! Thrice happy he whose heart has been so schooled In the meek lessons of humanity, That he can give it utterance : it imparts Celestial grandeur to the human soul, And maketh man an angel.” 10 DISCOURSE VIII. LAW OF RETRIBUTION. THE RIGHTEOUS JUDGMENT OF GOD ; WHO WILL RENDER TO EVERY MAN ACCORDING TO HIS DEEDS. — Rom. ii. 5, 6. The substance of this declaration is a number of times repeated in the New Testament. Matthew reports Jesus as saying, “ The Son of Man shall come, and then shall he reward every man according to his works.” St. Paul elsewhere frequently uses a similar form of expression, saying, “ We must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.” “ If there be first a willing mind, it is accept- ed, according to that a man hath, and not according to that he hath not.” “ Every man shall receive his own reward, according to his own labor.” Was this a new principle, a new Divine decree, and thenceforth to be universally applied, because of its freshly declared authority? Most manifestly it was no new principle, which had just flashed in ce- lestial light from the Divine mind. It was not true only because St. Paul declared it, but St. Paul af- LAW OF RETRIBUTION. Ill firmed it because it was true, — always had been, and always must be divinely true. It was now peculiar- ly revealed and enforced, but it had been always true as God is true. These words, in connection with those other words, “ God is no respecter of persons; but in every nation, he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him,” — embody the grand truth of Christian revelation, the grand principle of Christian life, and the grand idea of Christian justice. For you remember St. Paul says of other nations than Hebrews, — those who have not a written or declared law, — that so far as they do by nature the things contained in the law, they are a law to themselves, having the work of the law (that is, the requirements of the law) written on their hearts, their consciences accusing or excusing. This principle of strict equity is well termed by St. Paul, “the righteous judgment of God.” What other principle would be righteous, i. e. rigidly right to each and every moral being, variously circum- stanced, as each human being is, from his birthday to his death ? But how does this equitable principle comport with the theologies which have been systematized by ecclesiastical councils, during fifteen hundred years of the Christian era ? No ; say the theologies. God does not render to every man according to his deeds, but according to God’s grace, or according to the merits of Christ. Here the principle of equity is emphatically denied, and a principle of substitu- tion is adopted. Our idea of strict justice is utterly confounded by the adoption of a vicarious theory. Instead of order, law, and harmony, disorder, un- 112 LAW OF RETRIBUTION. certainty, and confusion are asserted. The moral government of God is then irregular, unsettled, lia- ble, like human governments, to convulsions and revolution. In other words, the moral administration of God becomes a mere system of failures and cor- rections; of mistakes and expedients; of painful exi- gencies, and painful devices to meet the exigencies ; of defects in the original arrangements, and plans adapted to the supply of those defects. Christianity, by this view, becomes a mere system of machinery, designed to work out, to some limited extent, what was to have been much more perfectly wrought out by the original plan, had not the Divine intentions been all deranged by the stealthy interference of a heaven-born malicious enemy of God, a mighty prince of evil. In the face of this theology, what is the actual experience of mankind ? and what has been the ex- perience of every nation, race, and family, of which we have historic knowledge? It is, that in the case of every individual, from the first man or men cre- ated to this hour, pain, privation, suffering, and all the common ills of life, have been exactly propor- tioned to the ignorant or wilful transgression of the divinely appointed and irrevocable laws of nature ; whilst enjoyment, peace, confidence, hope, and true superiority to common evils, have been always, with equal exactness, proportioned to the knowledge of, and obedience to the knowledge of, those same di- vinely appointed, unvarying conditions. But is there not, inquires an objecter or doubter, has there not always been, favoritism practised by nations ? Does observation prove that all men are similarly LAW OF RETRIBUTION. 113 affected by similar acts of obedience or disobedience, of ignorant or of wilful transgression ? Most cer- tainly not. Let us beware of misinterpretation. Nature, which is the expression of God, always acts in harmony with itself. Nature has always preserved its entire consistency, and justice has always been administered by nature. Similar effects have not appeared to follow similar acts, because no two act- ors have ever been similarly constituted and simi- larly situated. See the innumerable differences of age, of capacity, of knowledge, of external circum- stances of physical, mental, and moral constitution ; and on reflection you at once perceive that the re- tributive effects of similar actions must in equity cor- respond, both in appearance and in fact, with these countless shades of variation in man and his environ- ments. Here is a man of feeble physical and mental con- stitution, who transgresses law ; shah there be a spe- cial providence to supply him with vigor of body and mind, so that the retributive operation of his act shall manifest itself in the same manner as on one of naturally superior strength ? This would only be another form of the inequitable system to which we object. Here, then, is another more powerfully con- stituted, who is chargeable with a similar transgres- sion ; shall there be a special providence to reduce his natural state, so that the retributive operation of his act shall, in his case, manifest itself in the same way as on one of a much feebler constitution, and differently situated ? This would only be a different exhibition of that arbitrary interference and suspen- sion of the order of nature, which we oppose as in- 10 * 114 LAW OF RETRIBUTION. equitable and unjust. The effects of similar trans- gressions are equal, but they are not similar; just as we would expect the effects of firing a cannon-ball from a gun of metal to appear very different from those produced by the firing of the same ball from a gun of glass. No, no ! men never, never have brought good from evil, nor right from wrong, any more than they have gathered grapes from thorns or figs from thistles. As the summer follows the spring-time, so the harvest succeeds the summer, and whatsoever a man soweth, that, and not some- thing else, shall he also reap, whether it be good, or whether it be evil. It is vain for theologians to persist in forcing upon human judgment a system which outrages man’s natural sense of justice, by representing God as either demanding or receiving from innocence and purity, sacrifice, and suffering, and infinite an- guish, as an equivalent or satisfaction for a pen- alty due to real offenders ; then, in order to give plausibility to gross injustice, to represent God the Infinite and Supreme as himself reduced to an ex- tremity which rendered such a terrible alternative necessary to preserve his own honor, to vindicate his own character and conduct, and save his king- dom from subversion by powers of darkness, called the Devil and his angels. Diligently inculcated from the earliest dawnings of intellect, many may sincerely acknowledge such a theology as a dead letter ; but by rational, enlightened minds, it is never received as a living faith. Not only all the unper- verted instincts of humanity, but the almost uni- versal action of the world, repudiate and refute as LAW OF RETRIBUTION. 115 abhorrent and unjust the notion of wrath poured out, and suffering inflicted, on one who is purely in- nocent, as an equivalent or satisfaction for just retri- bution to real guilt. To preserve any idea of jus- tice, there must be, or appear to be, some proper connection, both in kind and degree, between the act of man and its consequence as cause and effect. This relation and proportion is clearly preserved by the Christian rule of rendering to every man ac- cording to his deeds. But all idea of relation or proportion is destroyed by the theologies, which overlook entirely the facts of life and law of retribution, as far as they are ac- tually seen, and known, and felt. Prevalent the- ology refers everything to the future beyond death, or back to Adam ; makes no account of the differen- ces of birth, capacities, and opportunities here, but divides all men into two unchangeable classes, one infinitely happy in heaven, and one infinitely wretch- ed in hell, and both conditions alike immutable and eternal. All idea of proper and just connection be- tween a man’s life and a soul’s destiny is destroyed, and, instead of having rendered to him according to his deeds, each one finds himself arbitrarily dis- posed of, according to something else than his deeds, according to the merits of another person, the merits of Christ, or the absolute pleasure, or, as it is styled by systems, “the unmerited grace of God.” This is virtual annihilation. It is not reward, for the soul can see no proper connection between such an un- changeable heaven, and the life which he had, as a rational, moral agent, previously lived. It is not punishment, for neither did the soul anticipate, nor 116 LAW OF RETRIBUTION. can it then trace up, any relation between its pre- vious existence and the miserable condition in which it finds itself. All rational distinction has been blotted out, an arbitrary line has been drawn, and there is nothing to show where right ended and wrong began, where knowledge incurred re- sponsibility, or where ignorance exempted from re- sponsibility, among those who in life, together, seemed to stand as nearly as possible on the same level, whether as to virtue or vice, righteousness or sin. Concerning persons whose bodily life is suddenly destroyed, there is a very common manner of speak- ing, both among exclusive and liberal Christians, which is calculated to perpetuate erroneous impres- sions both of the nature of God and the relation of the human soul to God. Of persons executed, mur- dered, or removed from visible life by accident, it is common to say, that they were hurried into the presence of their Maker. Without warning, they were sent into the presence of their Judge. This language tends to perpetuate the notion of a local deity, an imperfect God, and also to degrade the true dignity of the present world and human life. Must a man die, to go into the presence of the Cre- ator of the universe ? Is it only beyond the grave that man stands before the bar of divine justice? From this lax use of language on the part of many Christians, one might suppose that each human constitution, each united soul and body, is nothing more than a little piece of machinery, a sort of clock- work, wound up, set in motion, by the Deity ; and while he turns aside to superintend the greater con- LAW OP RETRIBUTION. 117 cerns of his government, it is left to move on, till death in some shape stops it, when it is again brought into the presence of its Maker, who in his infinite pleasure, or free grace, is then to decide, whether it is to be set up again in a place of celes- tial splendor, as an everlasting ornament, or to be thrown aside as common rubbish, to be abused and bruised and trodden under foot for ever. Thus it is that life on this side of the grave is disjoined from life on the other side of the grave, — that this world is left without God, in order that those only who die may be in his presence, — and there is no judgment and retribution now, so that there may be a great judgment away somewhere in the unseen, which by way of distinction is termed eternity. Hence men speak of religion as if it were only a prepara- tion for death, and speak of being pious, only that they may prepare to meet their God. What won- der that the divinity of the soul is depreciated, and the dignity of life lowered, and the sacrednesss of this world denied ! So it must be, till men see and feel that there is goodness, and beauty, and sanctity, about this present life ; that, various and myste- rious as nature and providence may seem, incompre- hensible as those distant suns and shining stars, and these complicate frames and throbbing hearts may be, they are all still within the boundless em- brace of the arms of the Omnipotent, the All-wise, All-merciful, All-just; that there is not a planet which rolls, nor a leaf which falls, nor a meteor flash, nor a human breath, which is not seen and known by the Supreme Sovereign ; that “ the eye of God is on all, and hallows all”; that the smallest, feeblest 118 LAW OF RETRIBUTION. human voice may in reverence and hope say, “ Thou, God, seest me ; I am in thy presence ; thou art my Creator, thou art my Father.” Though nowhere visible in person, God is every- where visible in power. But will some one freeze up the fervor of my reverence, and darken the image of my hope, by asserting that this all-embracing law, including and controlling high and low, great and small, the world seen and the world unseen, tangi- ble and intangible, — that this is the law of nature only, and not the law of God? Well, without con- tending about words to no profit, let the stern the- orist change the term God for Nature, and tell me how much he has gained. See that order and sta- bility, birth and preservation, life, death, and renova- tion, which you would call the operation of the law of nature, — is it any more explicable as the law of nature than as the law of God ? Do you more clearly comprehend Nature as the originator and perpetrator of this ceaseless uniformity of vicissi- tude, than you can comprehend God as its origin and author ? Give me the new and clearer light, which by this change of terms you throw upon the universe, or upon life, or upon the human heart, give me your illumination, or be silent and leave me to my trust, and hope, and reverence, and worship. But here is the truth which is overlooked and where mistake is made. It is by law and not by impulse, by order and not by confusion, that God regulates worlds, and judges human actions. It is not by special plans, and counter-plans, to circum- vent the ingenuity of a mighty foe, an arch-fiend, and prevent his empire from invasion and disrup- LAW OF RETRIBUTION. 119 tion, but by harmonious and universal regulations, leaving man free, within limits, to decide on the tar- diness or the rapidity of his own progress, the devel- opment or the debasement of his own faculties, the increase or the decrease of his own enjoyment. God judges righteously, rendering to every man accord- ing to his deeds, and not to any man according to any other man’s deeds, nor according to any arbitrary or impulsive pleasure of his own, which men call free and unmerited grace. As to the varied allotments of men externally, the history of every age and com- mon observation unite to prove that they are not to be regarded as the standard of human enjoyment. It may be, as it often is, that the man who for to- morrow has not the means of procuring food for his appetite, or a garment for his body, may possess a largeness and loftiness of soul, a serenity of thought, a depth of repose, a firmness of trust, and a brillian- cy of hqpe, to which the possessor of broad estates and luxurious abundance is an utter stranger. It is not in the number of acres a man owns, nor the sums he has invested in profitable stocks, nor in the spaciousness of his mansion, nor the costliness of his surroundings, nor the sumptuousness of hi. tables, that a man finds exemption from care, or freedom from anxiety. It is not by satiating his appetite, that a man can escape the pangs of re- morse. It is not by sinking languidly amid the downy cushions of his carriage or his palace, that a man can escape from the searchings of his insulted and offended conscience. No, let no sufferer among the poor and unfortunate of earth raise his weary, tear-moistened eyes, in envy or in execration of his 120 LAW OF RETRIBUTION. opulent neighbor, thinking that God has been par- tial, in permitting that neighbor’s path to be strewn with flowers, and the air he breathes to be enriched with perfumes. No, no, poor sufferer though you be, who look upon that splendor, know that you cannot reach the inner depths of that neighbor’s being, or with compassion you might see beneath those rich vestments a heart corroding with dark- ness, or burning with bitter remorse, or festering with foul passions, or writhing in the fetters of shadowy fears or well-grounded apprehensions. For the nature and degree of his retribution beyond the event of death is known only to Him who exe- cutes righteous judgment. True, the conscience may sometimes be temporarily stunned, stupefied, seared, and almost deadened, and what should be the life of a noble man approximates to the life of a senseless brute. But then I would ask any poor one, who has peace, — any humble one, who has a high, honest mind, — any landless, purseless body, which is inhabited by a healthy, enlightened, world- observing, and enjoying soul, — would you exchange your poor, manly life, for that rich but sordid ani- mal life ? Let no one then be rash, lest he misin- terpret the externals of existence, in their relation to the righteous retribution of the Supreme Ruler. There are indeed those who are successful in life because they are worthy of being successful. There are men who are rich in worldly wealth, who feel themselves to be stewards of God, to dispense bless- ings to their fellow-men. They are centres of light, and joy, and gladness. Honestly they have gained, and freely they bestow, and like the meal and oil of LAW OF RETRIBUTION. 121 the widow in Sarepta, they find that their abun- dance fails not. They give, and yet gain by giving, having had faith enough to learn the heavenly les- son that it is more blessed to give than to receive. This surely is a happiness so exquisite and deep and holy, as to be almost enviable. But even here envy would be selfish ; for those who taste this joy of pouring blessings on their fellow-men have fairly earned it. It is theirs. God renders to them ac- cording to their deeds. To all such we should rather say, Peace be on you, and prosperity within your walls ; may you be like God’s sun in the skies, which loses nothing by long shining, and like the clouds, which are not exhausted by repeated show- ers. Let Fortune flood her favors round such men while they live. If others feel as I have felt, it must create con- fusion, and painful questioning in the minds of worshippers, to hear ministers in their prayers, one moment adoring God for his perfections, the ful- ness and completeness of all his attributes, es- pecially for his infinite justice, and then in the next breath thanking God devoutly, that he has not been just to deal with them according to their deeds ; or had he been just to mark their transgres- sions, they would — and the world would — have long since been in darkness and misery everlasting, where hope and mercy can never enter. What can this mean ? Is it meant by praise, by flattery, to win his approbation, and so avert the wrath they may inflame by insinuating the want of justice in the Divine administration, — an absence of strict jus- tice, by which the worshippers are to be great gain- 11 122 LAW OF RETRIBUTION. ers? The more I reflect over it, the more surpris- ing it appears that reasonable men can insist upon interpretations of Scripture, and upon the necessity of faith in substitutionary or vicarious doctrines, which reduce them to the necessity, even in their very prayers, of impugning and denying the strict justice of God himself, the Creator and Ruler of all worlds. Such seems always to be the .desire of many to evade responsibility, and by some art or scheme of salvation escape from exact and rigid personal retribution. This earth is not a distant outpost, barely within the remote jurisdiction of the Almighty, but it is for ever under the Omniscient eye, it is filled and is sacred with his presence. Let us make no such mistake, then, as to suppose that we are left here for a period, only to prepare ultimately to meet our God. Let us not fancy that it is only death which ushers us into the presence of the Supreme Disposer of things, the Infinitely Just. Prepare to meet our God ! What is the import of that one of the beat- itudes of Jesus, “ Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” and of his declaration, “ The kingdom of God is within you,” but that the incorrupt and unsullied bosom shall here, in propor- tion as it is incorrupt, see God in the wisdom and beauty and beneficence of his works ? “ He that dwelleth in love,” says the beloved disciple, “ dwell- eth ” — not merely shall dwell, but now dwelleth — “in God.” Our great object is not to prepare for death. We are here first and chiefly, and it is the most solemn and noble thing, to prepare to live, — to live LAW OF RETRIBUTION. 123 well. For our living well is the only just prepara- tion for death, and for every conceivable vicissitude. Life is not incidental to death, but death is an inci- dent in life. Death performs no miracle, destroy- ing moral distinctions, but introduces man into the spiritual state of being at the precise point where as a moral agent he quitted this mortal state. Men speak of bringing the soul into eternity. Why, when does eternity begin ? Does eternity begin only when the last breath has expired from the body ? What is this life to you, to me, from the first dawn of our existence, but a portion of the eternal life which is allotted to us ? God, by the presence of his power and his justice, is as much in the birth-chamber and the sick-chamber, as in the death-chamber or the grave. Engaged in our pur- suits, in our most active hours, amid the busiest throng, it is still 11 in Him we live, and move, and have our being,” as much as when the eye has been shut in death and closed down in the darkness of the tomb. Let us with scrupulous caution avoid even the use of words which, either in ourselves or others, may tend to imbue us with low views of the real dignity of the soul; to degrade the standard of excellence, which should be perpetually before us; to rob life of its sanctity, and reduce this world in our esteem to a mere nursery or school-house, a work-shop, or an inn on the way-side to the in- visible portion of our eternal life. Let this be to us divine and beautiful, a world of God ; to all of us, the beginning and an important portion of eter- nity ; a world in which it is a high, and sublime, and 124 LAW OF RETRIBUTION. solemn thing to live ; assured that now and always, here and everywhere, in the world visible and the world invisible, God is no respecter of persons, but his judgment is righteous judgment, and he renders to every man according to his deeds. DISCOURSE IX. FALLACIOUS REASONING.— JESUS AS JUDGE OF THE WORLD. There is much fallacious reasoning among men on almost every topic. As parties, sects, and indi- viduals, we have each some point or posture to de- fend, and any process of reasoning which supports or gives countenance to our cherished cause, we eagerly accept without strictest scrutiny. With many, time is so engrossed by ordinary pursuits, by business life, that plausibility is readily mistaken for proof, especially on metaphysical or religious questions. The acutest perceptions are obtuse enough, and the widest range of actual thought is incompre- hensive enough, in any given instance, to expose man to the danger of fallacious reasoning. Yet it becomes us to subject to the severest ordeal every proposition involving an article of religious faith. For though it is possible to hold a doctrine firmly, as an article of mere belief, exerting the least con- ceivable influence on our character, still every doc- trine concerning the nature, character, and purposes 11 * 126 FALLACIOUS REASONING. of God, every doctrine concerning the nature, ca- pacities, and destiny of man, every doctrine con- cerning the nature, character, and offices of Jesus, wili have its practical effect, in some measure, in the formation of individual character, in coloring the thoughts and influencing the actions. And this is all that gives importance to particular doctrines, and theories, and religious speculations. If the rules of practical life were all so distinct and manifest, — if the principles which should govern human action in all the social relations were so obvious as to be recognized and adopted by all, in- dependent of all conflicting systems and doctrines, of religions or of churches, — then it would matter little how perfect or imperfect were a man’s reason- ings on theology. Were universal rules and prin- ciples invariably embraced for the transaction of daily business, and the enjoyment of social inter- course between man and man, it would matter little what sectarian denomination one man or another man might bear. Were creeds all merely things to be read in books, to be thought of and talked of, and speculated over in leisure hours, and not in any way affecting the attitude of one person towards another in the common affairs of every day, it would be a concern of small consequence what creed one man or another kept in his book, or what title he should give that book, or what theologian he should regard as its legitimate expounder. Were the im- pulses of the heart, were the affections, so naturally and universally developed among men, that the same words would at all times be pronounced true and worthy and beautiful, and their opposites at all FALLACIOUS REASONING. 127 times untrue, unworthy, and repulsive, and the same actions universally pronounced unkind, unmanly, and unjust, and their opposites at all times generous, hu- mane, and just, it would then be of little moment where one man or another should spend two hours of every Sunday, or what should be the ritual of his church, or the theology or the philosophy or meta- physics of his ministers. But unhappily for the general good, as well as for individual comfort, this is not the common rela- tion of theory and practice, of doctrine and of action. There are, indeed, exceptions. There are many in- stances where theoretical believers in a scheme of doctrine, and scrupulous observers — not hypocriti- cally, but sincerely, honestly, scrupulous observers — of external religion, and Sunday ceremonies, and church enterprises, never permit their sentiments of respect, or their feelings of attachment to friends or acquaintances, to be changed or modified, or in any measure influenced, by the fact that those friends or acquaintances entertain different religious views, or attend some other form of worship, or express no particular views and encourage no particular sect. But where such relations exist between a rigid ad- herent of one sect and a rigid adherent of another, or between a scrupulous religionist and an unsec- tarian, a liberal man, there is implied a general ob- servation of the world, a large experience of life, or, over and above religious training, a clear, acute, practical, and philosophic mind. Either the heart overrules the head, the intellect being in subjection to the affections, or both mind and heart exercising their proper influence over all the departments and 128 FALLACIOUS REASONING. concerns of human life, they are at the same time indifferent and uninquiring as to all religious specu- lations, taking their theology on trust, incurious, unquestioning faith according to the training of early life, or to the first religious associations into which they have been thrown. In hundreds of in- stances, in our day, as every observer must per- ceive, this is the actual position of church-members. Still, this is far from being universally descriptive of sectarians. Were the ties of early association the only ties which bind men to exclusive churches, there would be ground for a more speedy reconcile- ment of profession and of practice, and generous action would become the fruit of active, generous principle. But the theologic lines continue to be drawn round little circles, by those who, instead of compassionating and seeking out and warmly en- treating others, who by their neighbors’ creed are consigned to untold woe, as the enemies of God, actually pass them by with coldness, if not with scorn. This is the fruit of holding a system of doc- trines as essential to the Divine favor ; and though much is usually said, by those who thus constitute themselves the favorites of God, of a certain inde- finable faith, and much to the depreciation of human reason, yet in every such instance it will probably be found, on close inquiry, that the indefinable faith which proves itself by such unamiable, unsocial, and unbrotherly works, is invariably founded on, or sup- ported by, fallacious reasoning, together with forced and partial interpretation of certain passages or words of Scripture. So obvious is this, generally, that, as evil communications corrupt good manners, FALLACIOUS REASONING. 129 even the earnest and active liberal Christian is some- times betrayed into a similar scornful and unfra- ternal sentiment toward his self-satisfied exclusive brother. And as the Baptist says to the Methodist, Stand off, I am holier than thou, — as the Methodist says to the Episcopalian, and the Episcopalian says to the Presbyterian, and the Presbyterian says to the Roman Catholic, Stand off, I am holier than thou, — so even the liberal Christian, in a sort of indigna- tion, is perhaps betrayed into the expression of a similar unworthy sentiment, exclaiming, like the haughty Pharisee, “ Thank God, I am not as other men, not even as these foolish sectarians.” And thus he falls, too, into the inconsistency of retorting in coldness and scorn, as if he were the favorite of Heaven, in view of his superiority to sectarian tram- mels, his more extensive knowledge, and liberality of faith. This, I apprehend, is no very remarkable pic- ture of liberal Christians, and it should cause us to beware of that perilous and unlovely point at which extremes often meet. As already said, wherever any doctrine derived from interpretations of Scripture language is main- tained as absolutely essential to the favor of God and the ultimate welfare of man, narrowness, self- righteousness, and exclusiveness, if not unkindness and violence, under the pretext of pious zeal, are the legitimate results. But my purpose at this moment is to consider briefly at least one instance of fallacious reasoning, in support of what is termed an essential doctrine ; I mean the argument for the Supreme Deity of Je- sus, founded on his appointment as Judge of man- 130 FALLACIOUS REASONING. kind. As a theory, it matters little whether Jesus be regarded as God or the reverse ; and I do not propose to discuss the question now, which I have frequently discussed at length, whether the Scriptures teach that Jesus was God, or whether they teach the op- posite of this. But as those who maintain essential articles of belief search diligently for reasons, and offer reasons and interpretations in their support, these reasons invite, and are entitled to, the most rigid examination. Here is the argument commonly offered : Jesus is the Judge of the world ; in order to judge the world, Jesus must be omniscient; therefore Jesus must be the Supreme God. Let us analyze the logic of this argument. In order to be judge of earth and of mankind it is necessary that Jesus should be omniscient. What is it to be omniscient? To be omniscient literally signifies to have an un- derived and absolute knowledge of all things, objects, beings, thoughts, words, and actions, past, present, and future, perpetual and eternal. What is this world? Does it embrace the centre and circumference of creation ? Is this the only abode of intelligent beings ? All earth is no more than an atom float- ing in the immeasurable space, only a grain of sand on the shore of the boundless and invisible. To man himself, who by aerial conveyance may rise some distance in the atmosphere, earth diminishes, at the distance of only a few miles, into the merest point; all the sounds of land and ocean leave the stillness of the upper air unbroken, and we, bustling mighty lords, with all our most immense perform- ances, become less than the ants in the little mounds which we may crush beneath our feet. We know FALLACIOUS REASONING. 131 our sphere to be but a smaller sphere in a single system, which is itself, as the telescope reveals, but one of myriads of systems of the inconceivable, the infinite universe. Nothing could be more presump- tuous than the fancy that this atom of a globe is the only habitable or inhabited portion of the ma- terial, the illimitable universe. As the microscope reveals it to our astonished sense, the globule is an ocean, and the mote a world of countless animated beings. We cannot, therefore, for a moment enter- tain the thought, that the innumerable majestic spheres, of which in the starry skies we catch some feeble glimpse, are mere passive balls of dead mat- ter, sparkling through space. But as the distance from the molecule to the man is marked by succes- sive series of existences, so may we reasonably sup- pose that rank upon rank of various intelligences have their abode on the innumerable vast spheres which science has brought within the range of even our confined knowledge. • To suppose, then, a knowledge of all the beings and things, and of all the thoughts and actions, of all on or in this earth, in all time past and time to come, is to suppose a knowledge as far short of ab- solute omniscience, as we can possibly conceive of distance of the finite from the infinite. Jesus, there- fore, might have conferred on him knowledge suf- ficient to qualify him for present, or perpetual, or eternal Judge of earth, and, besides earth, of a thou- sand other spheres of an hundred times the magni- tude of earth, and still remain at the greatest con- ceivable distance both in nature and attributes from the Supreme God. The fallacy is obvious. Power 132 FALLACIOUS REASONING. or capacity to judge the earth or all mankind does not, of necessity, imply omniscience, nor scarce a conceivable approach to omniscience. Jesus might even be supposed to be personally present in not only fifty places on our globe, but also in fifty other and greater worlds beside, and still this would not by any means imply absolute omnipresence ; for there might be millions of wprlds remaining, of which he would have not even the remotest knowledge. Admitting Jesus, therefore, to be judge of all man- kind, to infer thence that he must be the Supreme God is most inconclusive, illogical, fallacious rea- soning. This obvious fallacy extends itself into the interpretation of Scripture, leading to the plainest disregard of the most explicit language. There is but a single passage which refers fully and distinctly to this point, and an examination, a bare perusal, of the passage causes amazement, at the facility with which the theorist can close his eyes upon the most unambiguous terms, which are not only at variance with his dogma, but as clearly op- posed to it as if written expressly for its refutation. Here is the passage (Acts xvii. 31) : “ He (God) hath appointed a day, in which he will judge the world, in righteousness, by that man whom he hath or- dained.” Here it is not only not declared to be necessary to be God in order to judge the world, but it is expressly affirmed, that Jesus is simply the ordained agent or minister of God in judging the world ; and even admitting the theory which is now maintained of two natures in Jesus, God and man, in one person, then it is not even the God or di- vine nature which is the ordained judge, but the FALLACIOUS REASONING. 133 human nature, the man, — that man who, as St. Luke states, increased in stature, and in knowledge, and in favor, — that man who rejoiced and wept, who hun- gered and slept, who suffered and died. God will judge the world by that man whom he hath ordained. So, by this unequivocal statement, even suppose Je- sus to have had two or any number of natures, sup- pose him to have been at the same time the supreme God, still, so far from omniscience, omnipresence, being necessary to constitute him judge of the world, it is affirmed in the plainest manner that the or- dained man is made the judge. Nothing but the strongest attachment to a previ- ously imbibed doctrine could induce religious men, in the face of this most distinct New Testament language, to persist in declaring it necessary that Jesus should be God, in order to be judge of this world. You know I have been accustomed to illus- trate the language of Scripture writers by similar or analogous language in use in our own day. Let me give you now an instance in point, of much stronger and less qualified terms in describing the influence of a modern jurist, or writer on international law, than any terms in the New Testament applied to Jesus as a judge. This illustration derives addi- tional consequence from the fact, that its author is a clergyman, who himself, with reference to Jesus, would employ this fallacious reasoning which we have just considered. In an oration on Human His- tory I find this passage : — “ Go now with me to one of the Italian cities, and there you shall see, in his quiet retreat, a silent, thoughtful man, recording with a visible earnestness 12 134 FALLACIOUS REASONING. something that deeply concerns the world. In the silence of his study he stretches forth the sceptre of law over all potentates and people, defines their rights, arranges their intercourse, gives them terms of war and terms of peace, which they may not dis- regard. In the days of battle, too, when kings and kingdoms are thundering in the shock of arms, this same Hugo Grotius shall be there in all the turmoil of passion and the smoke of ruin, as a presiding throne of law, commanding above the commanders, and, when the day is cast, prescribing to the victor the terms of mercy and justice, which not even his hatred of the foe, or the exultation of the hour, may dare to transcend On the sea and on the land, on all seas and all lands, he shall bear sway. This is the man to give law to all the nations of mankind in all future ages.” Here, you perceive, a minister of the Gospel, without any conception of impropriety, without any thought of being misunderstood, affirms of a distin- guished jurist who lived several generations since, that he shall bear sway on all seas and all lands, that he shall give law to all the nations of mankind in all future ages. Now does not this imply omnis- cience ? and must not he who can thus bear sway over sea and land, and give law to all nations of mankind in all ages, — must not he be God ? Can any being less than the Supreme Deity perform such an office? Still more: he says, that “when kings and kingdoms are thundering in the shock of arms, this same Hugo Grotius shall be there, as a presid- ing throne of law, commanding above the command- ers, prescribing to the victor the terms of mercy and FALLACIOUS REASONING. 135 justice.” Must not the great jurist be omnipresent, and therefore God, when in the midst of conflicts, ages after his death, he is still present, command- ing and prescribing terms ? These inquiries are needless. Your good judg- ment and corpmon sense at once recognize the beau- ty, propriety, and truthfulness of the description of the moral power of the principles laid down by Hugo Grotius. And were the same faculties ration- ally exercised in construing the language of Scrip- ture, most of the obscurity and mysticism thrown around it would disappear at once and for ever. “ Lo, I am with you always,” skid Jesus, “ unto the end of the world ” ; and this is true in precisely the same sense in which it is true of the Dutch lawgiv- er, who is present in all nations commanding and prescribing terms of justice. Jesus is present in the power of his principles, and in no instance more strikingly than this of the power of law. Hugo Grotius was a Christian ; he had all his life been drinking at the fountain of Christian truth, and ' his rules for the adjustment of difficulties, the govern- ment of nations, are only applications of Christian principles of justice and mercy; and thus it is in re- ality Jesus who is present, giving law, command- ing nations, and prescribing terms. Thus is Jesus, through the agency of others, present in every age ; and will be till the end of time. Not Jesus himsejf, but the truth which he expressed, — his word, as he terms it, — is the judge of men. These are the terms, as St. John records them (xii. 47, 48) : “ If any man hear my words and believe not, I judge him not ; for I came not to judge the world. He that rejecteth 136 FALLACIOUS REASONING. me, and receiveth not my words, hath one that judg- eth him : the word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him.” In the same conversation he says, “ Now is the judgment of this world ; now shall the prince of this world be cast out ” ; intimating clearly, that whensoever and wheresoever men hear and rec- ognize his teachings, those teachings, that doctrine, will be the judge ; approving or condemning the life and conduct. The enlightened conscience will judge the character, always approving righteousness and disapproving wrong. And by the phrase, “ If any hear my words and believe not,” he implies that those who do not hear his words are not judged by his words, but by their fidelity to their opportunities, their own consciences, as St. Paul observes, accusing or excusing them. Having not the Christian law, they may do by nature the things contained in the law, and are thereby a law to themselves. Those not born nor instructed in Christian countries, not hearing of Christian principles, are not Christians in name ; they do not live by Christian rules, their character is not formed on Christian principles, their conduct is not regulated by Christian precepts, and they are not judged as we are judged, but in strict justice, according to their works ; their moral condi- tion being determined by the improvement or misuse of their moral powers and their opportunities, neither the life, the teachings, nor the death of Jesus having any direct relation to them nor bearing on them, whether for evil or for good, except so far as Chris- tian principles are universal principles. The conception of one great day hundreds of cen- turies distant, when the water, air, and earth, and FALLACIOUS REASONING. 137 rocks and trees, shall be transformed into living hu- man bodies, to appear in one grand assembly to be judged and sentenced to ceaseless ecstasy or endless woe, raises again the question, Where, in the vast interim of unknown centuries, are the unnumbered millions of human souls ? Do they sleep ? Are they annihilated ? Are they without a resurrection, without judgment, without sentence, — preserved through ages in some unlocated, undescribed and indescribable, temporary heaven and temporary hell? These are inquiries not to be overlooked or slighted. That temporary existence, or non-existence, whatever it may be, is itself an eternity compared with the longest earthly life ; and it becomes those who hold to a distant day for the judgment of the whole uni- verse of human beings, to give some satisfactory and consistent account of the condition or abode of human souls, who are to exist, if they exist at all, unsentenced, unjudged, for hundreds and myriads of ages. These questions are never met, but are always avoided, as if ignorance were bliss, and it were folly to be wise. They must be fairly answered, or anoth- er more rational and consistent view must be taken of what the judgment is, and a corresponding inter- pretation given to the New Testament language. But my purpose at this time has been to afford you an instance of the fallacious reasoning so com- monly used in support of theological doctrines de- clared to be essential. You perceive how easily the acutest natural per- ceptions become blunted by attachment to an early learned and strongly inculcated system of theology. Minds thus biassed assume, as necessary, proposi- 12 * 138 FALLACIOUS REASONING. tions which are not only destitute of evidence, but which in themselves are illogical, and at war with all common sense and direct knowledge of mankind. Here you find it boldly affirmed that Jesus must be omniscient and be God in order to be the judge of earth ; while the fallacy of the argument is obvious on a moment’s reflection, when you remember that this earth is but a speck in the great creation, and therefore that capacity to be judge of this, and an hundred other and superior worlds, would not neces- sarily imply omniscience, or proper Deity, for thou- sands of worlds might remain of which the judge of earth would have no personal knowledge. And this fallacious reasoning is practised by those who loudly declaim against all reason. Yet further, you discover that attachment to al- leged essential doctrines also leads to the most ob- vious disregard of the plainest statements of Scrip- ture, and a defiance of all just rules of interpretation. You have seen how, in this very instance, the only passage which fully and distinctly refers to the ap- pointment of Jesus as judge of earth, declares ex- pressly that he is appointed as the minister of God. “ He hath appointed a day in which he will judge the world by that man whom he hath ordained.” Yet in the very face of this unequivocal declaration, the victim of a creed inculcated from infancy will assert that the judge of earth, Jesus, must therefore be omniscient and be. God. What I desire to im- press upon your minds is the perversion of Scripture and the fallacy in reasoning presented in the argu- ment which we are examining; for, even admitting that Jesus might be omniscient, and might be the Su- FALLACIOUS REASONING. 139 preme Deity, yon perceive that no proof to this effect can be derived from the fact that he judges the in- habitants of earth ; while all that is revealed in the New Testament on this point is strong testimony against the popular presumption as to the nature of Jesus. You see, moreover, the confusion of thought which arises from the earnest defence of certain doctrines as essential to the favor of God ; a want of acuteness and comprehensiveness, in consequence of which men constantly speak of death and judg- ment, and entrance upon eternal existence, as si- multaneous events, and at the same time will con- demn you as heretical and unregenerated, should you fail to believe that the only resurrection and judgment are events not to occur at death, but hundreds, millions, or myriads of years hereafter, they being unable to furnish you a single clear or reasonable idea of the condition of existence, or non- existence, of human souls during this vast interval of time. As we remarked in the opening of this discourse, it is not a subject of grateful reflection, that so many men hold religious doctrines as they hold articles of ornamental furniture, to be believed in, to be looked at, but never to be used; — their character being formed not by their theological faith, but in despite of that faith ; their conduct in the relations of life being determined by observation and common sense, while their creed is held in a book, to be used on Sundays, and then only to be regarded in an indis- criminating faith, as one regards or believes in a volume written in a language which he does not understand. Truth, a love of truth, enthroned as 140 FALLACIOUS REASONING. sovereign over our noblest passions, — without this we must ever remain bondmen to unfounded preju- dices and indefensible doctrines. A love of truth supreme over all our affections, — to the divine sovereignty of which we can yield the fondest illu- sion of our intellectual life, — a love of truth which will melt our obstinacy into the surrender of the most finely cherished sentiment, and inspire us with a manly courage to walk fearlessly in accordance with her high behests, — without this it is in vain that we attempt to appropriate the priceless possession of a peaceful mind, — an unshaken soul, on whose brow sits the serene image of divinity, as it moves joyfully on through all the vicissitudes, commotions, and convulsions of the world. DISCOURSE X. TERMS AND PHRASES. — UNIVERSAL SALVATION.— UNIVERSAL RESTORATION. — REWARDS AND PUN- ISHMENTS. CHARGING THEM, THAT THEY STRIVE NOT ABOUT WORDS to NO PROFIT. — 2 Tim. ii. 14. Many of the controversies which now vex the world, many of the sorrowful dissensions among theologians especially, might be easily obviated by a careful examination and a simple and natural definition of the terms employed in the propositions which are the subjects of division or dispute. It not unfrequently occurs, after a protracted and warm discussion, that the disputants by the merest acci- dent make the mutual discovery, that a previous ex- planation of the words of the proposition which has been the subject of difference, would have obviated the need of most, if not all, of their discussion. Their real difference has been a misunderstanding, which a verbal definition would have satisfactorily explained. They have been using the same words in a different sense, or each has been ascribing to the 142 TERMS AND PHRASES. other an understanding of terms very far from the correct one ; both, as they find on verbal definition, understanding the same terms in precisely the same sense. It is of the highest importance, therefore, to exam- ine and explain at the outset the terms or words of a proposition, that all misunderstanding may be avoided. Many of the fiercest quarrels have origi- nated in mutual misapprehension, when the slightest preliminary inquiry would have made all clear and comprehensible, averting the direst calamities, and • preserving peace, concord, and happiness. Let us illustrate by the consideration of some instances. Universal Salvation, Universal Restoration, Future Rewards and Punishments, — these are phrases in- volving ideas of the most general interest. The words themselves are only signs of ideas ; let us see what ideas they are understood to signify. Do you believe in universal salvation? is a ques- tion very easily propounded ; but it is not so easily nnswered, without a mutual understanding of what salvation signifies. In popular theological usage, salvation unquestionably is meant to signify a rescue or deliverance from an infinite misery after death, a condition to which, it is supposed, all are condemned by nature. The myriads wfio entertain this view plainly understand by universal salvation a univer- sal deliverance from a universal misery after death, to which mankind are naturally condemned; whilst one who professes a faith in universal salvation may mean this, or may mean some very different thing, by salvation. The term salvation may mean de- liverance from hell or suffering, in another world ; TERMS AND PHRASES. 143 or it may mean deliverance from the effects in anoth- er world of sin in this world, or from the effects in this world of sin in this world ; or it may mean de- liverance from the habit of sin itself. Now, in no one of these senses can universal sal- vation be understood as literally true. It cannot mean universal deliverance from hell and suffering in another life, for it never can be shown that uni- versal man, that all human beings, were ever cursed or doomed to, or in danger of, eternal hell and suffer- ing after death. It cannot mean universal deliver- ance from the effects in another world of sin in this world, for a majority of human beings who enter this world never sin. Sin being the transgression of law, and transgression of law implying knowledge of law, probably a majority of mankind leave this mortal life in childhood, before any capacity of sin has been developed, before any voluntary act of moral agency has been performed ; consequently they never sinned, and they need no salvation, whether in this or any other life, from the effects of sin. It cannot mean universal deliverance in this world from the effects of sin committed here, for we observe continually, and know from actual experi- ence, that there is no such thing as universal deliv- erance from the natural effects of voluntary wrong. "What these legitimate effects are, we cannot always certainly determine ; but we see that there is not, there never has been, universal deliverance from them. It cannot mean universal deliverance from the habit of sin itself, for we see that, up to this hour, nearly all — perhaps all — mankind who reach the age of re- sponsible action do actually commit more or less of 144 TERMS AND PHRASES. sin. Thus we discover, on close examination, that the phrase universal salvation is destitute of any definite and satisfactory meaning. For if salvation signify deliverance from actual evil, suffering, or dan- ger, there can be no real meaning in universal sal- vation, unless it can be shown that there has actu- ally been a universal suffering or curse from which there has actually been a universal deliverance. Neither Scripture, nature, nor human experience has yet demonstrated any such universal evil, suffering, or curse, requiring any such universal deliverance. To the interrogatory propounded, therefore, I should be forced to reply : I am no believer in universal salvation, nor am I a disbeliever. For the phrase itself conveys to my mind no distinct idea ; it ap- pears to be simply a misuse or misapplication of words, frequently confusing the minds of those who suppose it to express their belief, and equally mis- leading those who suppose themselves to be contend- ing against that belief. The next phrase, universal restoration , is this more clear and comprehensible than the other ? To restore signifies to recover or replace something which has been removed or lost, to reinstate some- thing, or some person, in a condition which has be- fore belonged to the same thing or person. Univer- sal restoration is usually understood to signify the universal reinstatement of mankind in a condition of holiness and happiness. When were all mankind removed from a condition of holiness and happiness? When did all mankind ever fall from or lose such a condition ? When were all mankind ever in pos- session of such a condition ? Here we observe the TERMS AND PHRASES. 145 misapplication of two additional terms, the words holiness and happiness. Both these words express intelligence, consciousness, and action ; they both imply personal moral agency. Holiness expresses a conscious condition of goodness, or piety, or moral purity. Happiness also expresses intelligent enjoy- ment, a knowledge or experience of bliss, of felicity. Millions, therefore, of the human race, who leave this world in infancy, have never been conscious of either holiness or happiness, as they never have of the opposite conditions of guiltiness or misery. A condition then which they never enjoyed, they never could fall from, — they never could lose ; and there is neither reason nor propriety in the idea of their being restored to a condition which they never pos- sessed. Whatever may be the idea conveyed to the minds of those who employ these phrases, universal salvation and universal restoration , to express what they regard as their religious faith, others, who object to the doctrines thought to be conveyed by these terms, without much question, associate the phrases with the idea of a primitive fall of mankind through Adam, accompanied with a universal curse, or sentence of condemnation. Both the phrases universal salvation and universal restoration are understood by theologians, and the generality of nominal Christians, to express deliverance of man- kind from that original curse, or final restoration to the primitive condition, or what is supposed to have been the primitive condition, of innocence, holiness, and happiness, belonging to the man Adam. But the term salvation never has such a reference in Scripture, and the phrase universal salvation can 13 146 TERMS AND PHRASES. with no propriety be so understood, till it can be clearly and conclusively proved, that all mankind had both physical and moral connection with the man Adam, that such a universal curse was actually pronounced, and that a corresponding deliverance from that curse has been, or will be, finally effected. Such a physical and moral connection with the man Adam is not asserted by Scripture, it is unsupport- ed by reason, and is refuted by the general experi- ence of the world. Neither Scripture nor science proves that all men are descended from the man Adam, or any other one man. Neither revela- tion, reason, nor all the history of human kind, favors or warrants the idea of any such original curse pronounced upon the unborn world of man. Examine the Scriptural account in Genesis, and you will find that no covenant was ever made between God and Adam, nor between any other persons ; that there was no curse pronounced upon Adam. There was a curse pronounced on the ground, and that is all which is represented as passing be- tween Adam and God ; there is not the remotest allusion to posterity, one way or the other. Were there, at all events, a possibility of transfer or impu- tation of sin, guilt, or curse from one person to another, there would at least be some appearance of justice in causing the parent to endure the pen- alty of his children’s misdeeds, because he exposed them to the dangerous influence of his pernicious example. But the common theology reverses the whole order of this apparent justice, and unreason- ably causes the unborn child to be guilty, cursed, and condemned to ceaseless woe, for the wicked act TERMS AND PHRASES. 147 of his parent or ancestor, ages before the child’s ex- istence. The condition of the man Adam previous to any sinful act may be perhaps described by the terms holy and happy , because he was a mature, free, in- telligent, moral being. But these terms cannot de- scribe the condition of the thousands of human beings who through countless ages have daily departed from this life, in infancy and childhood, before they were conscious of any action good or bad, — before they could possibly be in a condition of either holiness or happiness, guiltiness or misery. They entered upon life, and they passed from mortal being, with no moral character whatever, but simply in a state of innocence ; they were neither righteous nor unright- eous, for they were not responsible. And this is all that can be said of them. Their whole moral and spiritual nature was undeveloped here, and to be developed in the state into which they passed through death. All mankind, then, are not to be finally saved from the wrath of God and eternal woe, because it cannot be shown that all mankind were ever sub- jected to any such terrible calamity. All mankind are not to be finally saved hereafter, from the effects of sins committed here, for it is morally cer- tain that millions of human beings have lived and died who never did sin here. All mankind are not saved, now in the present life, from the effects of sins which they commit, and universal experience is the unquestionable proof. All mankind are not saved from sin itself, for all history to this hour bears witness, that nearly every human being who has 148 TERMS AND PHRASES. lived to years of responsible action has committed sin, though a period may come, and is devoutly to be desired, when many souls shall reach maturity and pass through life, of whom it may be said, as it is recorded of the great teacher, Jesus of Nazareth, that they were “ in all points tempted, yet without sin.” It is not improbable that both the phrases univer- sal salvation and universal restoration are most gen- erally misunderstood by those who oppose them, and as greatly misapplied in many instances by those who favor and employ them. What universal calamity is it, from which there is to be universal salvation ? What universal blessing has been lost, to which there is to be universal restoration ? By propounding these inquiries, and endeavoring to an- swer them, it is seen at once, that neither the one phrase nor the other conveys to the mind any dis- tinct and satisfactory idea, or they imply conditions of universal sin, and universal happiness, which are groundless, imaginary, and never have existed. Mankind cannot be saved from an evil to which they have never been exposed, nor restored to a hap- piness which they never have possessed. How much uncharitable and profitless discussion might be avoid- ed, by clearly defining the original terms of a propo- sition, so that the purport of each separate word might be distinctly understood ! Future rewards and punishments , — let us bestow a moment of consideration on this phrase. The term reward is manifestly used and understood to signify a requital, or equivalent, or mark of favor, hereafter to be given by God, in return for certain good ac- TERMS AND PHRASES. 149 tions of man in this present life. At the same time it is an essential doctrine of the popular theology, that man is fallen and lost, and can never possibly perform any meritorious action ; that future heaven is not a reward or equivalent for any good done by man, but a free, unmerited gift, to which no human being is or can be in any way entitled, but is be- stowed by the pure grace of God. Both of these views cannot be, and perhaps neither of them is, correct. The word reward is frequently used in Scripture, * but it is never used to signify heaven or happiness in a future world, whether paid as an equivalent, or bestowed freely, without merit, as a gift. In ordi- nary speech the term reward is used to express both the idea of a payment and the idea of a gift. We describe a man as rewarded, who receives something as a requital or compensation for something which he does. Money, property, office, honor, or enjoy- ment, received in return for some service done, we call a reward, and we do so properly. Sometimes it is used to signify a gift or present, bestowed as a mere mark of respect, and not as an equivalent for any service which has been performed, and without the expectation of anything to be given in return. In this sense the term reward is not used with strict propriety. The word itself, in its true sense, means something received in lieu of something given. Both these ideas of payment and of present ap- pear to be singularly blended and conveyed without discrimination by religionists, who use the word re- ward to signify heaven or happiness in a future life. Heaven is described as a place and condition of eter- 13 * 150 TERMS AND PHRASES. nal bliss, to be bestowed as a free gift from God ; and almost invariably it is described, in the same breath, as a reward hereafter which is sure to all who perform certain righteous actions. The unkind, uncharitable, and vicious man, through a long life of eighty years, complies with certain conditions an hour before his death, and he receives the heaven of eternal bliss as a reward. The virtuous, pure, and pious youth, through only a short life of twenty years, complies with certain prescribed conditions, and he receives the same heaven of endless joy as his reward. The little child, who never performs an act either virtuous or vicious, and who neither complies nor refuses to comply with any conditions, opens its eyes in wonder on this world, then moves away, through the door of death, into the same heaven of eternal happiness, as his reward. There is nothing but confusion in this use of the word re- ward with reference to the life beyond the grave. To use it in all these cases in the sense of a be- stowal, a free gift, unmerited, adds nothing to its distinctness, but leaves it as indefinite as ever. I do not hesitate to assert, that no satisfactory idea can be conveyed by the word reward , associated with heaven as an unchangeable and eternal condition after death. Such an idea of heaven and such a use of the word reward , either as a payment or a gift, are totally irreconcilable, in view of the differ- ent circumstances under which men die, and these terms leave the innumerable variations of this pres- ent life involved in impenetrable darkness. Still more, I do not hesitate to say, that until a clear and satisfactory idea can be expressed by the word TERMS AND PHRASES. 151 reward , it should never be employed to express the condition of enjoyment or existence in a future life. The word punishment is used with as much vagueness and obscurity as the word reward. Some- times it is used to signify an arbitrary infliction of pain or suffering, as a satisfaction for some wrong done. Sometimes it is used to mean arbitrary chas- tisement or discipline, not for the satisfaction of the person who inflicts the suffering, but for the correc- tion and warning of the person who endures the suf- fering. But in both cases it is usually understood as being arbitrary, without any invariable law, but at the mere pleasure of the one who inflicts the suf- fering. It may be much or little, for a long period or a short period, according to his pleasure at the moment ; whether inflicted vindictively for his own satisfaction, or only as a proper correction and warn- ing for the sufferer. In both these senses the word punishment is used by religionists with reference to the future life. By one, God is represented as consigning all the wicked of every degree, old and young, civilized and savage, to an eternal and unmitigated hell of misery, and this is called the expression of God’s anger, his wrath, his vengeance, satisfaction for offending by the transgression of his holy law. By another, God is represented as subjecting all the wicked, who die without penitence and reform, to a suffering for dis- cipline, for correction or preparation, after which they shall be transferred to the place and companionship of the virtuous and holy. To describe this condition as well as the other, the word punishment is used, implying that chastisement or correction is arbitrary 152 TERMS AND PHRASES. also, — much or little, long or short in its duration, according to the pleasure of God, — only that it will ultimately terminate, and then the soul be trans- ferred to the place of unbounded and everlasting fe- licity. The word punishment almost invariably con- veys to every mind the ideas of wrath, vindictiveness, ideas which never can with any propriety be asso- ciated with the attributes and character of the Su- preme Being. God is love, and infinite love ; and God is infinite and unchangeable in every perfection. Unless the word punishment can be used and always understood as dissociated entirely from every idea of wrath or vindictiveness, it never should be used to express the action of God, whether with reference to the condition of souls beyond the grave, or the condition of human beings in this present mortal life. After this examination of these several phrases, you will easily understand how one may say, with the greatest propriety, I am no believer in universal salvation, no believer in universal restoration, no be- liever in rewards or in punishments in a future life, nor in rewards and punishments in this present life. For as they are commonly used and commonly un- derstood in religious speech, in theological and pulpit phraseology, no one of these phrases conveys any reasonable, consistent, or satisfactory idea to the mind. Of the author of such a declaration you might inquire, What then do you believe? That you might weigh it carefully, and test its reasonableness, its consistency, and its reality, he might give you this plain reply : I believe that there is but one life TERMS AND PHRASES. 153 of the soul, which begins at the soul’s beginning or its birth, and continues on for ever ; a life of freedom, of development, of retribution and progression,— death being but a single event in the soul’s life, — an event which relieves it from the restraints, propensi- ties, and peculiarities of a fragile and decaying frame, — the moral character of the spirit being the same a moment after death which it was a moment before death, only that the soul finds itself in a new and larger sphere, ready to proceed in the unfolding of its spiritual life from the exact moral point at which it left this mortal existence. This one life of the soul is a life of retribution. There is no partiality, no favoritism ; there are no elect ones as the recipients of anything called sal- vation. God rules the whole material world by a uniform and established order. He also rules the whole moral world, the whole world of mind or spirit, by uniform and unvarying laws. The most enlightened man in the most enlightened Christian country, who through ignorance or wilfulness trans- gresses a natural or moral law, must and does ex- perience similar effects to those experienced by the Pagan or barbarian, on the opposite side of the globe, who transgresses the same natural or moral law. In both cases, if the transgression be one of ignorance, the natural effects must follow, but it is no sin. And in both cases, should the transgression be wilful, the effects must follow, and the transgres- sion is a sin. The difference in both cases between the transgression which is sin, and that which is not sin, is in the moral effects upon the mind or conscience. So that every human being each day 154 TERMS AND PHRASES. and hour, in the exercise of free will, forms its own moral character. Each action of every being reacts in some way and to some extent upon himself, for good or evil, and not only upon himself but on oth- ers, and this reaction is retribution. This is what I mean by a life of retribution. Each being at the event of death continues its existence and develop- ment, from the moral life which it had formed up to that moment for itself, and proceeds in the spiritual state, enjoying happiness according to its own moral capacities ; and this is what I mean by a life of pro- gression. Thus we discover the necessity of a clear idea of words. And the words salvation , restoration , re- ivards and punishments , should never be used, un- less they can be separated in the mind entirely from the ideas of wrath, vindictiveness, or any arbitrary action on the part of God, whether favorable or un- favorable to man. God is no respecter of persons in this life, nor in any other. He appoints laws to regulate the whole of man’s nature, and leaves man free to learn, un- derstand, and experience the effect of those divine and universal laws, to increase enjoyment or reduce his capacity for enjoyment in proportion as he obeys or disobeys them. DISCOURSE XI. THE BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS ; OR GOD AND THE DEVIL. THOU THOUGHTEST THAT I WAS ALTOGETHER SUCH AN ONE as thyself; but i will reprove thee. — Psalm 1. 21. Though there may be occasionally found among us a stranger who is a Mahometan or Pagan wor- shipper, and though numbers of Jewish worshippers are frequently found, yet our civilization is called Christian. We are said to live in Christian society. Most men directly encourage the external offices of religion, and nearly all pay more or less regard to religious observances. But among those who encourage the external offices of religion directly, many appear to regard only its externals. Their re- ligion appears to be unexpressed by any controlling principles regulating their general transactions ; it appears to be expressed by no uniform spirit pervad- ing their whole lives, manifest in their words, acts, and whole deportment, by characteristics correspond- ing with what are agreed by all to be the peculiar features of the religion to which they avow their 156 BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. adherence, — the Christian religion. This class of persons may be rarely absent from the churches on occasions of public worship, and they are prompt in meeting all obligations originating in the temporal or business concerns of the congregations with which they worship. Having done this, they appear to think their part performed. Why this immediate unprofitableness of religion, this practical unproductiveness of Christianity, is an inquiry at once just and pertinent. That in a very considerable degree it originates in prevailing mis- conceptions of the character of the Deity, will be obvious on a careful examination of facts. Whilst it is reasonable that the barbarous or unenlightened mind, untaught entirely with reference to God, should form a conception of the Deity compatible with its own character and condition, it is just as true that those who receive all their views of the Deity from the dogmatic systems and teachings of others, as an almost universal rule, accept the views of God in which they are instructed, their own con- duct taking its coloring and character from their conception of Deity. The man untaught concern- ing any Deity, but left to frame his own, frames a Deity corresponding with his own characteristics. The man instructed from the first in certain views of Deity is likely to frame his own character on principles corresponding with the character which he has learned to be that of God. Let us see, then, how far an observation of facts may exhibit this analogy between human conduct, human character, and the prevailing conception of the character of God. Inquire of Christian wor- BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. 157 shippers generally, whether or not the Deity is the most unresentful, unretaliating, forbearing, and beneficent of beings, and you will probably receive a univer- sal affirmative reply. But notwithstanding this, the prevailing theological systems and confessions, the generality of books, sermons, and preaching in Christian society, represent God so as necessarily to imply that, while he is the most powerful and majestic, he is at the same time the most irritable, unforbearing, resentful, and vindictive being in the universe. The prevailing representations of the De- ity among Christians imply that he is imperfect and unfortunate, sorrowing, suffering, angry, and jealous, sometimes forbearing, sometimes petulant and inexorable, always fighting or contending, either with man, or angel, or devil, — in his conflicts with Satan, his arch-enemy, sometimes victorious and sometimes defeated, sometimes triumphing and sometimes mourning. I might here appeal to the personal knowledge of every one accustomed to the common representa- tions of Christian doctrine, in the weekly ministra- tions of the various churches. You hear the frequent allusions to God and to Satan, the two great oppos- ing beings, engaged in open and unceasing warfare, of which man is the poor, feeble, disabled, and un- happy subject. You hear of the devices to which Satan resorts, to retain every human being under his subjection; and you hear of the councils held in heaven by persons of the Godhead, and the wonder- ful plan, the ingenious and never sufficiently to be applauded scheme, by which the Deity checks the triumphant career of his inveterate and mighty foe, 14 158 BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. and accomplishes the rescue of a few of the unhap- py human victims of Satan’s cunning', cruelty, and unmitigated enmity to God. But the theological literature of the age assumes a more permanent form, and is likely to be more general and lasting in its influence. I might cite articles and confessions and catechisms, but, passing by these for the time, I ask you to examine a few passages from the writings of one of the most dis- tinguished religious writers of the generation just passing from the stage of active life. I mean Dr. Chalmers, most of whose writings have been given to the world within the short time since his decease. He was, during his life, one of the most noted of the Calvinistic or Presbyterian ministers in England and Scotland, and his writings have been extensively cir- culated wherever the English language is vernacular. In the passages I am about to cite to you, several great doctrines of the system which he supported are assumed. You will perceive that he takes for granted the existence of an Almighty Deity, and of an only less than almighty demon. He takes for granted that man is the subject, and this earth is the theatre, of a great fight, an awful contest, which has been carried on for six thousand years or more, be- tween these two inveterate foes, God and the Devil. His purpose is then to exhibit the immense interests at stake, and the spirit and sentiments which con- tribute to render the warfare worthy of the two powerful combatants. In meeting the objections of the more or less scep- tical, who suggest that the earth, in comparison with the universe, is but an insignificant field, and that BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. 159 man, in comparison with the worlds and ranks of intelligences, is but an insignificant subject of a con- test so amazing, he illustrates the considerations which arise to give weight to the conflict as it pro- ceeds, by supposing a battle between two great na- tions. This illustration he closes in these notable words : — 11 But other principles are animating the battle, and the glory of nations is at stake, and a much higher result is in the contemplation of each party than the gain of so humble an acquirement as the primary objects of the war, and honor, dearer to many a bosom than existence, is now the interest on which so much blood and so much treasure is expended, and the stirring spirit of emulation has now got hold of the combatants ; and thus, amid all the insignificancy which attaches to the material origin of the contest, do both the eagerness and the extent of it receive from the constitution of our na- ture their most full and adequate explanation.” He then applies the illustration of interests which become involved in a national contest, to the strug- gle between higher natures, or God and Satan. He does it in these notable terms : — u Now, if this be also the principle of higher natures ; if, on the one hand, God be jealous of his honor, and on the other there be proud and exalted spirits, who scowl defiance at him and his monarchy; if, on the side of heaven, there be an angelic host rallying around the standard of loyalty, who flee with alacrity at the bidding of the Almighty, who are devoted to his glory, and feel a rejoicing interest in the evolution of his counsels ; and if, on the side of hell, there be a 160 BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. sullen front of resistance, a hate and malice inextin- guishable, an unequal daring of revenge to baffle the wisdom of the Eternal, and to arrest the hand and to defeat the purposes of Omnipotence, — then let the material prize of victory be insignificant as it may, it is the victory in itself which upholds the im- pulse of this keen and stimulated rivalry. “ If, by the sagacity of one infernal mind, a single planet has been seduced from its allegiance and been brought under the ascendency of him who is called in Scripture ‘ the god of this world,’ and if the errand on which our Redeemer came was to destroy the works of the Devil, then let this planet have all the littleness which astronomy has assigned to it, — call it what it is, one of the smaller islets which float on the ocean of vacancy, — it has become the theatre of such a competition as may have all the desires and all the energies of a divided universe embarked upon it. It involves in it other objects than the sin- gle recovery of our species. It decides higher ques- tions. It stands linked with the supremacy of God, and will at length demonstrate the way in which he inflicts chastisement and overthrow upon all his ene- mies. “ I know not if our rebellious world be the only strong-hold which Satan is possessed of, or if it be but the single post of an extended warfare that is now going on between the powers of light and of darkness. But be it the one or the other, the parties are in array, and the spirit of the contest is in full energy and the honor of mighty combatants is at stake, and let us therefore cease to wonder that our humble residence has been made the theatre of so BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. 161 busy an operation, or that the ambition of loftier natures has here put forth all its desire and all its strenuousness.” Presented in this way, and for the purpose for which I now cite it, this language no doubt appears strange and peculiar, as referring to the Christian Deity, and as exhibiting the nature of Christian reve- lation. But its apparent peculiarity is only in the manner in which it is now presented to your consid- eration, for language equivalent to this, and frequent- ly almost verbally the same, is common in pulpit dis- courses every Sunday. You hear man spoken of as the lost, sinful, ruined, and helpless victim of the Devil’s artifice, at the time of his supposed conversa- tion with the wife of the man Adam, though not one human being had then, as far as we are informed, been born into the world. You hear God spoken of as being irritated and angry with the Devil for his cunning and cruel deception, and with the woman for being deceived by the Devil, and with man for being persuaded by the woman. Then you hear God spoken of as declaring war against this power- ful enemy, who is represented as one of God’s former subjects, who rebelled against Divine authority, and was expelled from the Divine abode for his audacity, and who has ever since been filled with burning ha- tred against the Almighty and all that pertains to him. Chalmers here represents God as being moved by the passions which characterize the human duellist and soldier. He represents both God and his ene- my as losing sight of the original insignificant issue, and, by the impulse of a keen and stimulated rivalry, contending for victory itself. He says the contest 14 * 162 BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. has arrived at a stage where more than the single recovery of our species is at stake ; that it involves higher questions, because it is linked with the su- premacy of God, who is jealous of his honor, and is resolved not to be outdone by the sagacity of an in- fernal mind, who with other proud spirits scowl de- fiance at him and his monarchy, endeavoring to baffle the wisdom of the Eternal, and defeat the purposes of Omnipotence. But Chalmers does not stop at this. When he comes to expatiate upon the grand expedient, the blood of atonement, he indulges in this strain, so strikingly resembling the delineations of human bat- tles, military tactics, and grand generalships : — “ It was only in that plan of recovery of which Jesus Christ was the author and the finisher, that the great adversary of our species met with a wisdom which overmatched him. It is true that he had reared, in the guilt to which he seduced us, a mighty obstacle in the way of this lofty undertaking. But when the grand expedient was announced, and the blood of that atonement by which sinners are brought nigh was willingly offered to be shed for us, and the Eter- nal Son, to carry this mystery into accomplishment, assumed our nature, then was the prince of that mighty rebellion, in which the fate and history of our world are so deeply implicated, in visible alarm for the safety of all his acquisitions : — nor can the rec- ord of this wondrous history carry forward its narra- tive, without furnishing some transient glimpses of a sublime and a superior warfare, in which, for the prize of a spiritual dominion over our species, we may dimly perceive the contest of loftiest talent, and BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. 163 all the designs of heaven in behalf of man, met at every point of their evolution by the counter-work- ings of a rival strength and a rival sagacity. “ Surely, it is no more than being wise up to that which is written, to assert, that, in achieving the re- demption of our world, a warfare had to be accom- plished ; that upon this subject there was among the higher provinces of creation the keen and the ani- mated conflict of opposing interests ; that the result of it involved something grander and more affecting than even the fate of this world’s population ; that it decided a question of rivalship between the right- eous and everlasting Monarch of universal being, and the prince of a great and widely extended rebellion.” * This is the carrying out of that idea of which you hear so much in Christian theology from the various pulpits, — of a council, in which expedients were dis- cussed, and a plan devised to alarm and conquer, if possible, the prince of that mighty rebellion in which the fate of our world is so deeply implicated. Here the supreme Spirit and beneficent Father of the uni- verse is represented as inflamed by ambition to car- ry on a sublime and superior warfare for the prize of a spiritual dominion over our species, met as he is at every point by the counter-workings of a rival strength and a rival sagacity. This contest is repre- sented as a keen and animated conflict of opposing interests; yes, it becomes a personal quarrel be- tween the combatants, involving, as this writer’s excited imagination declares, something grander and more affecting than even the fate of this world’s * Sixth Astronomical Discourse, on Colossians ii. 15. 164 BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. population; for it decided a question of rivalship between the everlasting Monarch of universal being, and the prince of a great and widely extended rebel- lion. This is a Christian minister’s description of the Christian’s God; — a Deity moved by ambition, rival- ry, jealousy, and revenge; a Deity characterized by every base and degrading and ignoble passion, which the principles of Christianity, as taught by Jesus, pronounce unjust, improper, and unnecessary, even in frail and erring humanity. And this, moreover, is no extreme and peculiar case ; the same description of the Deity, his actions and character, in terms more or less distinct, is given in thousands of churches from week to week. The whole doctrine of the sub- stituted suffering of Jesus, or vicarious atonement, as the systems term it, is predicated on the idea that Dr. Chalmers presents so vividly, — the presumption that God permitted himself to be by one of his own creatures entrapped into an almost inextricable dif- ficulty, — a difficulty so great, that, in order to relieve or justify himself, and to prevent his eternal purposes from being wholly defeated, it taxed the utmost in- genuity, or, as it is styled, the rival sagacity, of the Divine mind to devise a plan, which is so frequently admired as the scheme of salvation ; — a scheme for the discovery of which almost every prayer that is offered and every sermon that is preached by thou- sands of clergymen is replete with flattery, congrat- ulations, and compliments to the Almighty. A very common thing it is for ministers, in com- parison with the work of redemption, as it is styled, to depreciate the work of creation. To command BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. 165 into existence not only sun and moon and planets, but the system upon system of worlds which form the universe, and bid them roll in silent grandeur through the realms of space ; to create ranks of intel- ligent beings ; to form this mortal frame, so fearfully and wonderfully made ; to inspire these minds which surmount, subdue, and measure the objects and events of time, and look forward to an eternity of life beyond this sphere, — all this is considered a small affair, an unimportant work, compared with the amazing ingenuity which devised a scheme to wrest and save from the malicious arts of Satan a few human souls, a fraction of the number of human be- ings whom Satan has continued to deceive and tempt and steal away from the Creator, — from the Supreme Being to whom Satan himself, as it ap- pears, owes his existence. Thus do expounders of the Christian faith compliment the skill of God, and measure the relative importance of his acts and pur- poses. But this contest between Deity and demon, Creator and creature, has not yet terminated, as it seems. That plan by which God, under the appear- ance of a man, i. e. the Christ, contended with and vexed and circumvented Satan, was imperfect, and the warfare still continues. Here let me cite the de- liberate expression of a noted Calvinistic minister of our own day, Dr. Edward Beecher of Boston, who describes God as a mighty warrior, and declares that the great end of God is to fight and conquer and destroy. “ According to the Bible, the system of this world is an exception to all that precedes it and all that follows it. It is the great, singular, anomalous dis- 166 BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. pensation of the universe. Time was when sin did not exist. Time will be when its power will be subdued. All between is one great moral conflict, and thrice blessed is he who in this conflict shall overcome. The human race is a peculiar race. Of their own kind they had no predecessors, they have no contemporaries in other worlds, they will have no successors (the confident assertions of Swedenborg to the contrary notwithstanding). The whole sys- tem implies the contrary. The great end of God now is not education and development according to fixed and eternal laws, but war and conquest. The incarnate God is not chiefly an educator, but a war- rior. There is a God, a king, and a kingdom to be destroyed, and he is the great destroyer. For this end, he reigns and wields universal power. For this end, angels and principalities and powers are subject- ed unto him. And he will reign till all enemies are put beneath his feet : then cometh the end. Then a new and immutable system of the universe shall take the place of that which now is, and shall en- dure for evermore.” * Here, in order to maintain his theory of God as a warrior and unrelenting enemy of the great spirit of evil, he assumes what science will not warrant, and what is without foundation in Scripture; namely, that this world is an exception to all that precedes and all that follows it. Indeed, he alleges that noth- ing can follow it. He assumes that the human race is a peculiar race, that they had no predecessors, that * Article on “ The Incarnation,” in the Biblical Repository and Classical Review for January, 1850. BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. 167 they have no contemporaries in other worlds, and that they will have no successors. This is an extent of knowledge which never before has been ascer- tained or positively asserted, as far as I have ever known ; and you will observe that Beecher directly conflicts with Chalmers, who regards other worlds and other species as having interests at stake in this magnificent battle between God and Devil. There is one singular inconsistency prominent in this. In saying that time was when sin did not ex- ist, and time will be when the power of sin shall be subdued, and that all between these times is one great moral conflict, and thrice blessed is he who in this conflict shall overcome, he implies that man is himself engaged in this warfare, and that his being blessed depends upon his proving victor. At the same time, the chief purpose of the writer is to demonstrate that the great end of God’s exertions is to fight and conquer his arch-enemy, Satan, and to destroy his kingdom, man being entirely silent and inactive. To this end, he says, God reigns and wields universal power. There is another remarkable difficulty. God wields universal power, yet so nearly equal in power is the great enemy and rebel against heaven, that it is as much as the Deity can do to keep his crown and throne, the “ forces ” and cunning and “ rival sagacity ” of heaven and hell being so nearly • equal. There seems to be less disparity between the power of the two combatants than between any two warriors of earth ; for the warfare has been waged for six thousand years, and to all appearance has thousands of years to continue before the issue 168 BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. can be seen, and even then, by this same theory, it could scarcely be determined in favor of God, since his enemy is to carry away into his dominions for ever far the greater number of captives. Man is rep- resented as the weak, passive, and helpless subject of the contest between the two great powers, and yet his blessedness is to depend on his coming off conqueror over an antagonist whom the Almighty himself, as it appears from the theory, is to leave in possession of a power so great that the larger num- ber of those concerning whom the war was declared are to be subject to his fiendish malice and cruelty eternally, God having retired more than half defeated from the contest. Nowhere, except in the history of the passions and disputes of pagan deities by Homer and Virgil, — no- where else could a parallel be found to these views by Christian ministers of the Christian Deity. And what must be the effect of such representations ? While God himself, the first and best of beings, is a warrior, jealous of his honor, at ceaseless enmity with his powerful antagonist, is it reasonable to ex- pect man to see aught objectionable in the human battle-field, or to regard the passions of jealousy and enmity as wrong ? Whilst Christians are taught that the supreme God is moved by low ambition to conquer a wicked • and fearful enemy, whilst the very existence of God appears as a contest to decide a question of rivalship between him and another being, and that one of his own creatures, how can Christians be expected to mean anything by peace and forbearance and love, but warfare and retaliation and undying hatred ? BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. 169 Here Jesus himself loses his character of a bearer of glad tidings from the Eternal Father to his erring, toiling, hoping, and aspiring children. Jesus, the di- vine messenger, by this theory dwindles away into an emissary or agent of an omnipotent warrior, or even worse, the omnipotent warrior himself, dis- guised as a sort of spy, that by some stratagem he may defeat the plans of his vigilant arch-enemy. Are mere mortal beings expected to be superior to the God whom they adore ? How can Christian ministers thus representing the Creator expect the people who rely on them for religious instruction to regard forbearance or charity as a virtue, or to culti- vate the arts of peace as blessings, whilst the high- est virtue in God himself is resentment, and the great object of his existence is war and conquest? Be ye perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect, is the injunction of Jesus ; and this, if it mean any- thing in consistency with the common representa- tions of God and the Devil, means, Be the most per- fect warriors, and foster the most unrelenting enmity toward every one that may oppose you ; for if the Creator himself is always engaged in a hateful and jealous conflict, with a being of his own creation, surely we feeble creatures are expected to gratify our sordid passions, and cease to retaliate only with the extermination of each other. Read the history of Christian lands ; visit the thousand battle-fields en- riched by the blood of Christians who have destroyed each other ; see the altars and the walls of Christian churches crimsoned with the current from murdered Christian hearts ; see the red hands of Christian priests and people, Roman Catholic and Protestant, 15 170 BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. from the time of Constantine to this time of Pius the Ninth, opening the Gospel to read of peace with stained swords hanging at their sides, — and how and when can we expect the nominal disciples of Jesus to beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning-hooks, and learn war no more ? When shall there be peace on earth and good-will among men, if God himself is unable even to con- quer a peace from his fiendish adversary ? God must reign supreme in the world’s heart, not sharing sovereignty with an omnipresent being who is his sworn and eternal foe. God must be received as a Father, infinite in power and goodness and love, before each man shall see in each his brother, and by gentle deeds and pure and holy speech shall ear- nestly labor to make the kingdoms of this world truly the kingdoms of our Lord and his Christ. By examination, we have found that the prevailing view of the relation subsisting between God and the Devil implies that the Deity is as imperfect in some respects as he is perfect in others ; that he is moved by rivalry, jealousy, hatred, and revenge, and never ceases his bitter hostility to one whom he regards as his uncompromising enemy. We find that it is im- plied in the common theory of Christianity, that the Devil is a being who is wholly wicked, without any redeeming quality ; that while in some respects in- ferior, he is in some all-important particulars supe- rior to God, inasmuch as he first opposed and de- ceived God ; that he so far prevents God from re- covering what he had lost, that he defies God, and is still waging war with him, and that finally he is to triumph by defeating the benevolence of God toward BATTLE OF THE INVISIBLE POWERS. 171 his creatures, the vast majority of God’s creatures becoming the irrecoverable captives of God’s invet- erate enemy. And we have seen that, by this same common theory of religion, man is esteemed a mere football, tossed to and fro between these two mighty antagonists; that we are wretched, helpless, de- praved, and wicked worms of the dust, so trifling that, as Chalmers says, the two almighty warriors lose sight of us in their terrific contest, which merges into a fight for the honor alone, the supremacy, of the two parties. And so all this representation in Scrip- ture, of man as akin to angels ; as a being crowned with glory and honor, the image of God, the lord of creation, an heir of God and joint heir with Jesus; as a being with powers so exalted that he may raise himself to a heaven of progress and felicity, or sink himself to a hell of remorse and fear, — all this, on this view of religion, becomes mere mockery, tanta- lizing us with dreams and fancies never to be real- ized, and u this world is all a fleeting show, for man’s illusion given.” All enlightened conscience, enlight- ened reason, and human experience unite in pro- nouncing these views of God, of man, of Christian- ity, and of the world, unjust, unworthy, and untrue. A question remains to be answered. These words, Satan and Devil, are found in Scripture. Can we reconcile what we know to be true with the use of these terms in Scripture? This question I will en- deavor to answer in my next Discourse. DISCOURSE XII. USE AND MEANING OF THE TERMS DEVIL AND SATAN IN SCRIPTURE. We have seen by a brief examination the views that have been entertained and are still taught by many theological and religious writers, respecting the relation alleged to exist between God and Satan, — between the Supreme Deity and an almost .supreme Devil. If, as we supposed, this common view of Deity and Devil, as two great antagonistic pow- ers, two mighty persons necessarily and eternally hostile to each other, waging an interminable war, unless it be terminated, as many allege it will, by a surrender on the part of God to Satan of an im- mense majority of the human family, thus closing the contest by crowning the Devil conqueror, — if this view be, as we supposed, incompatible with every reasonable view of the attributes of Supreme Deity, if intellect, affections, and conscience unite with all external nature in pronouncing against this conception of the Creator, then we properly inquire, What is the signification of the terms found in the Bible, holding the Scriptures, as we all do, to contain THE TERMS DEVIL AND SATAN. 173 the highest, best, and sufficient record of truth and duty to mankind ? What is the use and what the meaning of the terms Satan and Devil in the Scrip- tures ? It would be impossible in a single Discourse to con- sider all the passages in which these terms are found. But we may examine some of them, and endeavor to do something to elucidate the subject. First, as to the word Satan. This is a Hebrew word, and wherever found in Scripture is to be regarded as a Hebrew word, not translated. Many superficial readers no doubt suppose this word, being Hebrew, to be very frequently used in the Old Testament, and will probably be surprised to find that it is only used seven or eight times in all our English transla- tion of the Old Testament. It is frequently used, however, in the original Hebrew, and this fact assists us in determining its use and signification. In these seven or eight instances, it is used as a name or per- sonification, that is to say, as if applied to a par- ticular being or person. And concerning some of these passages there is considerable diversity of opinion, among critics calling themselves orthodox, as to whether the personage referred to was an evil or a good personage. For instance, the difficulties arise in this way. 1 Chron. xxi. 1, it is said, “ Satan stood up against Israel, and provoked David to number Israel.” Referring to the very same trans- action, Samuel (2 Sam. xxiv. 1) says, “ The anger of the Lord was kindled against Israel, and he moved David against them to say, Go, number Is- rael and Judah.” The writer of Chronicles says it was Satan provoked David to this act; Samuel 15 * 174 USE OF THE TERMS says it was God provoked David to this act. Hence some, desiring to reconcile the statements, say this Satan must be a good angel, and not a being hostile to Jehovah, but one acting by the direction of the Lord, so that the Lord himself and Satan, his good angel, may be said to have done the same act. Again, in the second chapter of Job, it is said, “ There was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan came also amongst them.” Here the critics are perplexed again to determine whether this Satan denotes a ma- lignant spirit, an enemy of God and man, or a faith- ful but suspicious servant of Jehovah, one of the sons of God here spoken of. Eichhorn, Herder, and other eminent critics defend this view ; for otherwise they cannot well account for the presence of the Devil in heaven amongst the angels of God, and he especial- ly holding a conversation and argument with God. This view may find some support from the fact that the angel of God is in another place in the original expressly called Satan. Numbers xxii. 22, alluding to Balaam who went to curse Israel, it is said, “ Be- cause he went, the angel of the Lord stood in the way for an adversary (Satan) against him.” Here we begin to receive some light when we come to the meaning of the word Satan. It literal- ly signifies an adversary, enemy, or opposer, and it is so translated in every instance in which it is translated, and in every case except the few disput- ed instances already referred to, and where it remains untranslated, it alludes to human beings without any doubt. I mention a few instances. 1 Kings xi. 23, 25, it DEVIL AND SATAN. 175 is said, “ God stirred him up another adversary (or Satan), Rezon, the son of Eliadah ; and he was an adversary ( Satan) to Israel all the days of Solomon.” Again, 1 Samuel xxix. 4, the Philistines say of David, “ Make this fellow return, lest in the battle he be an adversary (or Satan) to us.” 1 Kings v. 4, Solomon, alluding to the wars which had prevented David from building a temple, says, “ But now the Lord hath given me rest on every side, so that there is neither adversary (or Satan) nor evil occurrent.” From these passages it is clear that in Hebrew usage whatever was an obstacle, an enemy, or adversary, whether personal or impersonal, was called Satan. But how does it happen that, in the few instances in which the term is left untranslated, it is employed as a name, or personal substantive ? This is readily understood when we remember that Chronicles, Job, and Zechariah, the books in which the word is found, were all written after the return of the He- brews from captivity, or within 500 years before Christ, that is to say, 3,500 years, according to com- mon chronology, after the events referred to in Gen- esis. Eichhorn and other critics (called orthodox) regarded the belief in the Devil as having no exist- ence among the Jews till after their captivity in Babylon, having acquired this idea from the good and evil deities of the Babylonians. But whether these critics are correct in supposing that the Jews believed in a personal Satan, an evil deity, any more after than before the captivity, we need not be anx- ious to determine. For agreeably with the use of language at that day with them, as with us at this day, it was natural and rhetorical for them to per- 176 USE OF THE TERMS sonify evil, and designate every person, object, or in- fluence that was inimical, adverse, or opposed to them, as a Satan, an opponent. The term is obviously employed in the same sense in the New Testament, as in Rev. ii. 9, where it is said of the church in Smyrna, “ I know thy works, and tribulation, and poverty, (but thou art rich,) and I know the blasphemy of them which say they are Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan.” Here the persons of Jews are called “the syna- gogue of Satan.” And still more distinctly is the Jewish use of the term apparent in the reply of Jesus to Peter, when, Peter rebuking Jesus, Jesus turned (Matt. xvi. 23) “and said unto Peter, Get thee be- hind me, Satan ; thou art an offence unto me,” — al- most the very words which Matthew (iv. 10) repre- sents Jesus as saying to the Devil in what is called the temptation : “ Get thee hence, Satan.” This is a most expressive illustration of the real signification of this term Satan. An obstacle, an opposition or adverse influence, an offence, was termed a Satan, the word being used as a proper name, as if desig- nating a person. Jesus called Peter Satan, because he offended or opposed him. More abstract and logically accurate as our language is, it is not sin- gular to meet with the same use of terms among ourselves. We say of a man who pertinaciously opposes another’s prosperity, that he is Satan to that man, and in an excited state of mind we would in addressing such a man say, Begone, thou Satan, from our presence. We now come to the term Devil. This word is entirely confined to the New Testament. It is DEVIL AND SATAN. 177 never used in the Old Testament. The plural, devils , is found three or four times in the Old Testament ; but in every instance it plainly refers to gods instead of evil spirits, — it refers to images, idols, satyrs, nymphs, or forest gods. For instance, Levit.xvii. 7, the Israelites having sacrificed in the open fields to pagan deities, it is said, “ They shall no more offer sacrifices unto devils, after whom they have gone.” Deut. xxxii. 17, Moses, referring to the de- fections of the Jews, says, “ They sacrificed unto devils, to gods whom they knew not, to new gods, whom your fathers feared not.” And, 2 Chron. xi. 15, it is said that Jeroboam “ ordained him priests for the high places, and for the devils, and for the calves which he had made.” These are different Hebrew words from those which are so translated in the New Testament, and are the names of divin- ities in the nations around the Hebrews, and should all have been translated deities , instead of devils. So we discover the term Devil is never used in the Old Testament. Our inquiry, therefore, is necessarily confined to the New Testament. There are two words which are indiscriminately translated devil or devils ; one is daipoviov, the other 5m/3oXos. The pertinent questions here are these : Are these terms, or is either of them, always applied to one and the same being? Does either of these terms invariably apply in Scripture to a malignant, spirit- ual, invisible being, or are they both applied various- ly to beings living and dead, to human beings and inanimate objects? We must answer by an exam- ination of some passages. First, as to the term daifiovia. 1 Corinth, x. 20, 21, 178 USE OF THE TERMS Paul, addressing a church of Greek converts to' Chris- tianity, says, “ The things which the Gentiles sacri- fice, they sacrifice to devils (daifioviois), and not to God ; and I would not that ye should have fellowship with devils. Ye cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of devils ; ye cannot be partakers of the Lord’s table and of the table of devils.” Referring to this passage, an eminent theologian of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland says : “ Considered abstractly, the pagan worship and sacrifices were not offered to God, whom they knew not. But as little were they offered to that being whom Christians or Jews call the Devil or Satan, with whose character or history they were equally unacquainted.” Again, speaking of a similar passage (Rev. ix. 20), he says : “ It is equally manifest here that the word rendered devils ought to have been demons (or gods) ; nor is it less manifest that every being who is not the one true God, however much conceived to be superior to us, whether good or bad, hero or heroine, demigod or demigoddess, angel or departed spirit, saint or sin- ner, real or imaginary, is in the class comprised under the name demons , and the worship of them is as much demonolatry as the worship of Jupiter, Mars, and Minerva. A great part of the heathen worship is confessedly paid to the ghosts of departed heroes, of conquerors and potentates, and of the in- ventors of arts, whom popular superstition, after dis- guising their history with fables and absurdities, had blindly deified. Now to all such beings they them- selves, as well as the Jews, assigned the name daimonia .” The correctness of these remarks as to the use of DEVIL AND SATAN. 179 the Greek term is demonstrated by the fact, that the translators have actually rendered the same word gods instead of devils. Acts xvii. 18, some of the Greeks at Athens say of Paul, “ What will this babbler say? He seemeth to be a setter forth of strange gods (dai^ovl(ov). ” These considerations as to the word sometimes translated devils and sometimes gods in the New Testament, assist us in understanding the same word when applied to the men and women said to have been possessed of devils. Speaking of these instances in which devils (8ai[xovia) are said, to have been in or cast out of persons, the same Presbyterian writer referred to says : “ Though we cannot discover with certainty from all that is said in the Gospel concerning pos- session, whether the demons were conceived to be the ghosts of wicked men deceased, or lapsed an- gels, or (as was the opinion of some early Christian writers) the mixed descendants of certain angels (whom they understood by the sons of God men- tioned in Genesis vi. 2) and of the daughters of men, it is plain they were supposed to be malignant spir- its. They are exhibited as the causes of the most direful calamities to the unhappy persons whom they possess, — dumbness, deafness, madness, epilepsy, and similar affections.” Dr. Jahn, the able Roman Catholic archaeologist, in presenting the arguments to be offered against a real possession by a malig- nant devil, says: “Jesus and his Apostles teach us that all things, even the most minute, are under the direction of God. They could not therefore for a moment suppose that so great miseries were inflict- ed by demons (whether the spirits of dead men or 180 USE OF THE TERMS other evil spirits), or that God would be accessory to such evils by permitting them to exist in such a way. They would not countenance such an opin- ion the more especially, because it had its origin among nations which were given to idolatry. It was a common belief among such nations, that the celestial divinities governed the world by proxy, in- trusting it to inferior deities and to the spirits of the dead.” * Now as to the other Greek word, &d0oXoy, let us ascertain how this is employed. Like Saifioviov, it is also applied to men and women, to diseases and evil influences ; though it is always understood in a bad or malignant sense, and never as referring to gods, both good and evil, as the word ba^xoviov does. Aid/SoXor, applied to men and women, is translated in our Eng- lish version, sometimes as slanderer, sometimes as false accuser, and sometimes as devil. 1 Tim. iii. 11, Paul says, “ Even so must their wives [the wives of deacons] be grave, not slanderers (BiaficXovs) ” ; and, 2 Tim. iii. 3, he says, there shall be evil men “ with- out natural affection, truce-breakers, false accusers (Sm^oXot).” And Jesus himself is represented as call- ing Judas devil (didpoXos). John vi. 70: “Jesus an- swered, Have I not chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil (&d/3oXos).” But not only is this word applied to women and men of a bad moral character, but in general terms to classes of sick persons, as appears by the fact that the removing of these devils, or of this influence of the devil, is called healing the persons. Acts x. 38, Peter, in a sermon he was preach- * Jahn’s Archaeology, 3d ed., Section 197. DEVIL AND SATAN. 181 ing to a crowd, says, “ God anointed Jesus of Naza- reth with the Holy Ghost and with power ; who went about doing good, and healing all that were oppres- sed of the devil (roG &a/3oXou) for God was with him.” From this, says Dr. Jahn, the Roman Catholic writer already mentioned, u it clearly appears that, in the view of the sacred writers, to be a sick person, and to be a demoniac, or vexed with the devil, were only different expressions for the same thing. The sacred historians frequently say that the demoniacs were made whole or restored, which is an intima- tion at least that they were previously diseased. If, moreover, Luke, who was a physician, uses such ex- pressions as these, viz. to heal, to be healed from spirits, to heal those oppressed with a devil, — if he uses such expressions in reference to demoniacal possessions, it is clear we are to understand posses- sions in his language to mean the same with dis- eases, and nothing more.” (Sect. 196.) During their captivity of seventy years, the He- brews were familiarized with the Persian idea of two principles, the evil principle and the good, by which they accounted for the good and evil of the world, good things being created by the good deity, and evil things by the evil deity. Two generations of Jews growing up in the midst of those who enter- tained this doctrine, they naturally came to use the same method of expression, though not to convey the same ideas. They began to employ the Hebrew word Satan as a name, a personification, which, as their writings show, they never had done during thepre- vious three thousand years. It at once appeared a strong and forcible manner of expressing an adverse 16 182 USE OF THE TERMS or opposing influence to call it a Satan. And the same of a person. An enemy, a spy or informer, they designated Satan; and so, as we have seen, Jesus himself calls Judas &d£oXos (devil), because Judas was a spy or betrayer, as he had before called Peter Sa- tan. This was according to his uniform custom, using the common language to give strong expres- sion to his own ideas ; and there was no misunder- standing on the part of those who heard him. In- deed, the same use of speech is not remarkable among ourselves. We do not misunderstand a speaker when he says of a notoriously vicious man, that he is the very devil, that he is a perfect Satan. Nor do we misconceive when it is said of a man repeatedly unfortunate, severely tried, that his evil genius, his demon, seems to drive him, — the devil thwarts and vexes him. The term is often poetically applied to men, and we find the great dramatist, speaking of hypocrites, say : “ They clothe their naked villany With old odd ends, stolen forth of holy writ, And seem as saints when most they play the devil.” In the first centuries of Christianity the sect of Gnostics and Manichaeans introduced this very doc- trine of good and evil principles, good and evil dei- ties, the one creating and controlling darkness and evil, the other controlling light and good. A theological historian tells us of a sect of Chris- tians called Satanians, “ a branch of the Messalians, who appeared about the year 300. It is said, among other things, that they believed the Devil to be ex- tremely powerful, and that it was much wiser to re- spect and adore, than to curse him.” DEVIL AND SATAN. 183 Thus far in our inquiry we have seen that the word Satan is a Hebrew word, and that it is applied in the Hebrew Scriptures to Rezon, son of Eliadah, to King David, and other human beings, and to war, — to any thing or influence that may be called an enemy or opposer; and that in the New Testament, Jesus, according to the then common use of lan- guage, distinctly applies this term to Peter, calling him Satan, and the words three or four times trans- lated devils in the Old Testament should be trans- lated deities or gods, and that the word devil is never used in the Old Testament. And coming to the New. Testament, we have found that the word daifiovia, generally translated devils , is sometimes also translated gods, as when Paul is called “ a setter forth of strange gods ” ; that the same word is applied to satyrs, forest gods, im- ages of wood or stone, good deities and bad deities, and also to men and women, to sick and insane per- sons ; and we have given you the testimony of most eminent Presbyterian and Roman Catholic theolo- gians, that Jesus himself employed the term in this sense, as did also the Gospel historian, Luke. And we have found that the term didfioXos, ren- dered the devil most generally, is by St. Paul ap- plied to both men and women, translated by our English version sometimes by the word slanderer , sometimes false accuser, and sometimes devil, as when Jesus said of Judas, u I have chosen you twelve, and one of you is a devil ” ; and that, agree- ably to the testimony of Dr. Jahn, the same term (8cd/3oW as well as Satpmoi/) is applied to insane and diseased persons, as when Peter says, “ God 184 USE OF THE TERMS anointed Jesus, who went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil.” We have found that the word Satan is used as a name or personification only in the books of the Old Testa- ment written subsequent to the captivity, i. e. within 500 years before Jesus, and that while in captivity the Jews became familiar with the Persian doctrine of two principles or deities, — one creator and ruler of evil, and the other creator and ruler of good ; and that the Jews used their own word Satan, mean- ing adversary or opposer, to express the Persian idea of the evil principle or deity ; and that this was a natural use of language, not misunderstood by them- selves, and not implying that they had adopted the doctrine of an evil, as well as a good, deity. This much is established beyond all question, that these terms, Satan and Devil, are not always in Scrip- ture applied to angels or spirits, or invisible beings of any name, evil or good ; but that by the Hebrew writers, by St. Paul and by Jesus, both these terms are applied to men and women, and diseases, influences, and inanimate objects. And whether or not the ex- istence can be proved of such a person as the being commonly meant by the words Satan and Devil, — a person who, like God, is omnipresent and invisible, — who is at the same time present in every quarter of the world, instigating human hearts to evil passions, and human hands to evil deeds, — who is the eternal enemy of God, and is at war with the Almighty as much as he is with human beings, and who is to defy God, and before his face to carry away, eventually, most of God’s creatures, to torture them for ever, — whether or not the existence of such a person, or DEVIL AND SATAN. 185 deity, or devil, can be demonstrated, this much w^ have now established from the words of the prophets, and apostles, and Jesus, that the words Satan and Devil (Satan and dia(3o\os ), in the Old and New Testament, do not teach, at least do not establish, the being and authority of such a person. Or should it still be insisted on, that these terms do prove the existence and power of such a person, it must also be accepted as a logical and necessary inference, that the disciple Peter was Satan, and the disciple Judas was Sta/3oXo?, and this on the incontestable author- ity of Jesus himself, who calls the one Satan and the other Devil, so that both Satan and the Devil are hu? man beings, and, if they are distinct persons, were both disciples of Jesus ; or if identical, then he seemed to deceive the Great Teacher, by appearing in two characters, one of which Jesus detected in his base- ness, and the other of which remained undetected, and became one of the great preachers of the Gos- pel, so that Satan, the Devil, becomes the author of two of the Epistles of the New Testament. But keeping in view the literal signification of the term, namely, opposed to, contrary, adverse, spy, in- former, and keeping in view the fact, that the word Satan is always employed in the Hebrew books written previous to the captivity to signify a human enemy or adversary, or an opposing influence of any kind, as we have shown by several examples, we conceive that it cannot be difficult to understand how naturally the Hebrew writers who had become familiar with the heathen doctrine of two creat- ing and ruling principles, the evil and the good, should employ their own term to personify every hos- 16 * 186 USE OF THE TERMS tile being or agency, whether hostile to good or to evil purposes of theirs. And as naturally the Greek term fim/3oAos, by which the Hebrew Satan is trans- lated, appears as a similar personification in the New Testament writings. As James (iv. 7) says, “ Resist the devil (fita/3oAoy), and he will flee from you,” — an obvious personification of temptation or evil, — i. e. resist evil, and you will conquer it. And only by this use of the term fit dfioXos as a personification can we perceive the significancy and appropriateness of that passage in the Epistle to the Hebrews, ii. 14, 15, “ that through death he might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime sub- ject to bondage ” ; — a virtual declaration that wher- ever the principles and spirit of Jesus are brought into contact with wrong or evil, they will subdue and destroy it, thus delivering man from that moral death, — death to truth, goodness, love, and peace. The devil here is obviously a personification, signify- ing everything inimical, adverse, or opposed to, the true welfare and enjoyment of man, every evil thought or evil passion. Otherwise, on the com- mon understanding of the terms, the unequivocal declaration must be admitted, that the design of the death of Jesus was to destroy this person, fiia/3oAos, the devil , and it is vain to attempt any longer to alarm the world by pointing them to the remains of a destroyed and dead devil. In Scripture language we find almost every princi- ple, virtue, and sentiment personified. When we find wisdom personified, as in Proverbs i. 20, “ Wisdom crieth without, she uttereth her voice in the streets, DEVIL AND SATAN. 187 she crieth in the chief place”; Proverbs vii. 4, “ Say unto wisdom, Thou art my sister, and call under- standing thy kinswoman”; Proverbs viii. 2, “ She standeth in the top of high places ” ; — when we find patience personified, as by James i. 4, “ Let pa- tience have her perfect work ” ; — when we find char- ity personified, as by Paul, (1. Cor. 13,) “ Charity suf- fereth long, charity envieth not, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked ” ; — when we find sin person- ified, as when Paul (Rom. vii. 8, 11, 17) says, “ Sin, taking occasion, wrought in me all manner of con- cupiscence ; sin deceived and slew me ; now it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me ” ; and this personification of sin is strikingly similar to the use of the term Devil ; — when we find every book of Scripture abounding with personifications like these, can we be perplexed to understand such injunctions as this from St. Paul (Eph. iv. 26-31): “Let not the sun go down upon your wrath, neither give place to the devil; let all bitterness and anger and evil-speaking be put away from you.” The devil here can mean no mighty invisible and omnipresent being, for it is clearly implied that it is something that man possesses power to oppose, and the phrases, “ neither give place to the devil,” and, “let all anger and evil-speaking be put away from you,” are ob- viously only different ways of expressing the same thing. With this natural and reasonable view of the Scripture use of these terms, a personification of ev- ery trying or opposing influence, tempting thoughts, suggestions, passions, and by applying it to the in- stance of the word Satan in the trial of Job, and of 188 USE OF THE TERMS the word Devil as employed by Matthew and Luke in narrating what is called the Temptation of Jesus, we may discern a depth of meaning and a force and beauty of illustration which are utterly lost on the application of the common theory, which only pre- sents these narratives as strange and unintelligible combinations both of ideas and of words, neither profitable nor instructive, natural nor beautiful. Both these narratives, especially that called the Tempta- tion of Jesus, afford valuable illustrations of truth, experience, and duty, which cannot now, for want of time, be noticed. In seeking for an interpretation of these terms of Scripture, which may render them intelligible and bring them into harmony with consciousness, expe- rience, and nature, let no one imagine that he dis- covers a desire to escape from, or weaken the im- port of, that strong Scripture language which repre- sents the inevitable results of voluntary wrong, ha- bitual and cherished sin. By no scheme, plan, or atonement can any man evade a righteous retribu- tion. The hourly observation of human life may sufficiently admonish us, that the Supreme Father, infinitely merciful and just, requires no such agent as an omnipresent and malignant being to carry into execution his retributive laws. A ubiquitous Devil, full of unmitigated malice, and a roaring hell of material flames, attended by the satellites of Satan, have long ago lost their charm, even with those who think they believe in their existence. Such delinea- tions do not much alarm the most ignorant and de- praved. Unprincipled, dishonest, and immoral men, however firmly they believe in the Devil, dread a DEVIL AND SATAN. 189 constable or a sheriff much more than they do Satan or the Devil ; they are more alarmed at the thought of a county jail or state prison, than they are at the thought of a hell of fire and brimstone. Do we not all know, have we not all experienced or discerned, something of that fearful inward sense of desolation attendant upon wrong ? To every wil- fully vicious and habitually wicked man, there is, in the loss of reputation, in the loss of sympathy, in the loss of self-respect, in the loss of spiritual enjoyment, in present remorse, and in gnawing fear of the in- visible future, in which all the capacities of discern- ing the present and reviewing the past may be so unspeakably enlarged and quickened, — in all this, to such a man, there is a deep, burning hell, more real and more awful than any hell of fire and flames and angry devils. There is such a capacity of deep an- guish in the human heart, as may crowd eternity into an hour, or stretch an hour into eternity. And still more, in denying that our Creator and Father shares his sovereignty with a great, eternal, and wicked spirit, who now mars God’s happiness, and is ulti- mately to defeat the Almighty in his loftiest pur- poses, — in repudiating this, I would not be under- stood to dogmatize, and to deny the existence of all invisible spiritual agencies, whether evil or good. There may be permitted in some sense evil spiritual agencies. And not for beds of pearls, not for mines of gold, would I lose the soothing, sacred influence of the impression that the pure spirits of departed loved ones are still the servants of the Holy One, by gentle ministrations, unseen but not unfelt, warning and encouraging us, shedding over our hearts a 190 USE OF THE TERMS DEVIL AND SATAN. heavenly peace, and inspiring ns with heavenly hope of a heavenly reunion. And I cannot close this Dis- course without remarking that, in the prosecution of this interesting inquiry, to already all-sufficient evi- dence I find added superabundant testimony, that this revered Book is a rich and exhaustless treasury of truth, of human experience and history, indicating and illustrating with power and beauty the sublimest principles of human action, the highest standard of human duty, and the purest and most lasting source of human enjoyment. A time is dawning, is at hand, when, by a reasonable, scientific, natural in- terpretation, these long honored and much pervert- ed Scriptures will be rescued from the ridicule of thoughtless ignorance, from the scoffs of the incred- ulous but uninquiring, and from the scorn of cold- hearted infidelity, and become an ever-flowing foun- tain of spiritual life, from which toiling, hoping human hearts shall drink, and find peace and joy in holiness of spirit. DISCOURSE XIII. GOD AND'NATURE. HAYING NO HOPE, AND WITHOUT GOD IN THE WORLD. — Eph. ii. 12. Were yon to exhaust thought in attempting to frame a fitting description of a rational being who has found his residence on our globe, and who is the living embodiment of moral gloom, unmitigated sorrow, and deep, unutterable woe, no language could you find more concisely expressive or more thoroughly complete than this thriliingly descriptive sentence, “ without God and without hope.” This is a description to which it must be trusted that no human being could be found to answer. Yet it should not be disguised, it cannot have escaped the observation of any close observer, that in not a few, in many instances, there appears a tendency towards such a condition of spiritual desolation. In our day, restless, indefatigable Science is extending her researches in every quarter, as if affording assur- ance of a literal realization of those Scriptural words, “ There is nothing covered that shall not be re- vealed, nothing hid that shall not be made known,” 192 GOD AND NATURE. bringing “ to light the hidden things of darkness, and making manifest the counsels of the heart.” As with a thousand hands she is opening a thou- sand hitherto unopened pages in this stupendous volume of nature, discovering new facts, new opera- tions, new laws, or, if not new, facts, operations, and laws hitherto unknown or unobserved. But wisdom does not always increase in a corresponding ratio with knowledge, as appears from the momentary" exultation over every fresh development. With every slight discovery, some voices are heard echoing the Eureka ! of the Greek philosopher. “ I have found it! I have found it! The world’s mystery is ex- plained ; the problem of the universe is solved.” As if they had eaten of the tree in the Eden of the Mo- saical cosmogony, they seem to be conscious of veri- fying the serpentine prediction in having become gods, knowing both good and evil ; but unhappily for themselves, and sometimes unhappily for the world, they do not, as to their intellectual being, make that other discovery which the two occupants of Eden made, as described in this concise language : “ They knew that they were naked.” Though not always, yet the poet’s apothegm is sometimes true, that “ a little learning is a dangerous thing.” But peril is the true element of progress, and every slight in- crease of knowledge, with all the dangers it may bring, is preferable to the most blissful security of ignorance. The sagacity, however, which in our day has detected a few of the latent properties of light, and heat, and electricity, and steam, fails in a just improvement of its discoveries, when it assumes a haughty and scornful attitude, and with a self- GOD AND NATURE. 193 complacent pride affects to despise the paternal roof under which it was nurtured, and to which it is in- debted for its present expansion and maturity. Con- tempt and ingratitude are as ungraceful features in the character of science, as they are in that of igno- rance. Pride goeth before a fall, is not only a He- brew proverb, but it is the expression of a fact which all history attests. Superstition, as she becomes proud, ambitious, and despotical, weakens confi- dence and awakens foes ; and just in proportion as Science assumes an air of haughtiness, and scorns the steps by which she rises, she too will weaken confidence in her own worth, and retard her own advancement; for all experience testifies that men prefer old tyrants to new ones, and if it be only a change of masters they are to have, they will more respect the superstition which is hallowed by their earliest and tenderest associations, than the unwar- rantable presumption of a new-born science, which rudely shocks all that their pure childhood has held dear and holy. Our human nature is indeed great in its capacities, but it is yet small in its acquire- ments. The wisest of our nature who have passed from earth, and the wisest of our nature who now live, are standing only on the sandy and wreck- strewn shore of the boundless sea of knowledge. Ever and anon a swelling wave casts up some weed or shell, unfolding to us some new beauty and sug- gesting to us some fresh thought, but the inestima- ble treasures which lie deep down in that ocean’s bed are only intimated by the little we observe. And is it not often cited as an evidence of Newton’s greatness, as the richest gem that sparkles in the 17 194 GOD AND NATURE. diadem that crowns his memory, that he deemed himself, even in the zenith of his fame, but as a little child playing with a few pebbles on the shore, while the illimitable sea of truth lay before him still undis- covered ? I would not presume to say that this manly humility, this ingenuous spirit, which is not ashamed to recognize the boundaries which circum- scribe its knowledge, — I would not presume to say that this is no characteristic of our day. Indeed, the vast extent of elements still unexplored is not only admitted, but urged by the most unspiritual as a plea for the most unrestrained inquiry and incessant effort. Yet strangely incompatible with this is the degree of dogmatism which marks the infidelity of our time. In much of the scepticism of this gener- ation there is an arbitrary positiveness, which is as repulsive as the authoritative claims of superstition. As to respect, I frankly confess that I respect as much the honest doubt of the sceptic, as I respect the honest ^faith of the devotee. But it is neither the doubt of the one nor the faith of the other that I respect, it is only the honesty of both ; and if there be any merit, it is that only which has merit in one case or the other. When scepticism becomes intol- erant and disrespectful, it is no more to be admired than superstition. A harsh and scornful infidelity can no more win our love, than can a threatening and domineering faith ; — spiritual despotism is the same, whether an unbeliever or a fanatic sway the iron sceptre. The yoke of the superstitious ty- rant is as easily worn as the yoke of the sceptical tyrant. Man, with mind developed and with large acqui- GOD AND NATURE. 195 sitions of science, stands at this day on this little speck of earth, and, raising his telescope towards the star-studded skies, through the vast space catches glimpses of faint light from worlds so distant that no ray of theirs has ever reached the earth. He gazes on, till conscious that he is standing only on the threshold of the great temple of the universe. Through the slightly open door he has caught some faint reflection of the ineffable splendors beyond the reach of mortal vision ; and while his eyes are yet dazzled with the mere conception of the incompre- hensible grandeur of countless worlds, he will ven- ture without a qualifying syllable to pronounce the decision of his wisdom, and declares as with author- ity, “ This is nature, and there is no God.” Then he looks down into the slime and sand beneath his feet, and observes the ceaseless vicissitude of life and growth and decay and death ; and with his proud positiveness confirmed, he contemns the world’s ig- norance, and declares, u Yes, I know this is law ; there is no God.” Without a reproachful word, and without a tone of harshness, but calm in the confidence that truth and love must triumph, must reign and be eternal, I would say, “ Pause in your rash decision, child of earth ! pause and ponder. If you can feel no rever- ence, at least exercise some humanity. In order to have God thrust from the universe, will you crush man to nothing ? Will you rob man of trust in a beneficent Ruler, in order to gain trust in a theory which you can never prove? What conceivable advantage do you expect by attempting to deprive mankind of the solace which they find in recogniz- 196 GOD AND NATURE. ing the disposing power of a Supreme Intelli- gence ? ” You ask me in return, perhaps, to prove there is a God. Prove there is a God ! No, I never wrote a ser- mon, and cannot think I ever shall write one, to prove there is a God. As well might I attempt to prove my own existence. Read the metaphysics of four thou- sand years, and see the bungling logic and the end- less circle in which human thought revolves in fruit- less efforts to prove its own existence, wherever it begins and wherever it ends, taking for granted the very thing that it would prove. “ I think, therefore I am,” says one ; “ I am, therefore I think,” says another ; amounting to this, “ I am, because I know I am,” and u I know I am, because I am.” u There is no God; it is only nature.” Well, mighty mind, thou who but yesterday wast a helpless infant, a small, unreasoning handful of breathing dust, sob- bing on a mother’s bosom, how much wiser and better, tell me, will the world be, when you have taught it there is no God, but only nature ? What is nature ? teach us this wisdom. Nature ! Nature is what is, — what is, is nature. Whatever is, is, — and whatever is, is nature. Such is the resplendent light which bursts upon us, in exchanging God for nature. Then what is law ? shall I inquire. You answer, Law is the principle on which nature acts, the rule by which nature controls her motions. Nature acting by principles ! Nature controlling herself by rules ! Principles, rules, without intelli- gence, without cause, without origin ! Action and control without life ! The stability of nature implies intelligence, or it is intelligence. The uniformity GOD AND NATURE. 197 you call law implies of necessity a controlling power which gives that uniformity. I stand with you before the complex machinery of the huge engine, as its thousand parts harmoniously move. We stand securely and gaze on admiringly. I turn and ask you, What is this? This, this, you reply, is nature. And this motion ? I still further ask. This motion ! this is law, the law of nature, you reply. Shall I ask you to prove that this mo- tion is simply law, to prove that this complex, har- monious mass is nature ? When you prove to me that it is nature, — simply, only nature, — then I may undertake to prove to you that there is a God. Till then I stand in silence. I stand securely too, amidst these elements of fire and earth and air and water. I stand admiringly, and from this frame so fearfully and wonderfully made, to yonder sun on whose brilliant face I cannot look, but only catch reflected rays, — from the mysterious fragrance rising from the delicate petal of the blushing rose, to the mysterious light that beams from the innumerable worlds far off in yon illimitable space, — from this mysterious thought, which grows and expands with this growing frame from helpless infancy, to that mysterious death, which in an instant severs the connection and leaves this form to crumble back to dust and reappear in other forms, — before all this I stand in a silence which itself is adoration, amidst all this I stand safely, fearlessly, and I seek no proof. I ask no mortal to prove that there is a God, as I ask no mortal to prove to me that I myself exist. Superstition, indeed, has represented God as the most revolting and monstrous of all beings ; and in- 17 * 198 GOD AND NATURE. asmuch as we can only yield affection to that which is congenial, can only love that which is lovely, — since we cannot for itself love disease or deformity, — since we cannot for itself love either pain or peril, — it is not amazing and inexplicable that, in preference to a God so unjust, vindictive, and monstrous, some have felt willing, some are willing, to have a world, and are seeking to prove that there is a world, without God, even on the condition that it be a world without hope. But because frail human sys- tems defame God, would you deny God ? Because human systems rob the world of justice, need you deprive the world of hope? Because warped and mistaught minds presume without authority and without cause to threaten you with a distant and possible evil, need you strive to bring upon your fellow-man a present and real calamity ? Hope is well styled the anchor of the soul. Take God, the thought of God, from the world, and you leave the soul without its anchor ; for a world without God is a world without hope. I supposed that you stood before, that we together stood before, the majestic proportions of a harmoniously moving engine. Stand again there as a parent, with your little loved one, the child of your affection, and as you point out the beauties of this remarkable production of nature, a rapidly revolving wheel attracts the garments of the little listener, and ere you have time for thought drags him beyond your reach. Round and round goes on the resistless wheel; an instant more, and a few scattered fleshy fragments are all that remain to you of the object of your tenderest love. Shall I soothe then your agony by whispering, “ This is only nature ; GOD AND NATURE. 199 be at peace and dry up your tears, for there is no God ; this is law, it is nature’s law ” ? Shall I seek to comfort you then with the terms of your own phi- losophy ? Shall I say, “ Shudder not, nor weep, fond parent ; your dear one is not so lovely in its aspect, but it is there, there it is before you ; it is only mat- ter, and matter is eternal. Your child is immortal, for you believe in the eternity of matter ” ? But, sobbing through your tears, you say, “ The little bright intelligence, the spark of innocence, so pure, so beautiful, so full of promise and of hope ! ” “ O no, friend! shake off your superstition ; be manly, and revive your courage ; innocence is a fancy, beauty is a dream, and hope is but a shadow ; there can be no hope, for there is no God. Accident is unlimited, there is no bound to chance ; why may not nature re-collect the mutilated fragments? Wait, look^ a little while, perhaps some law may restore the form of beauty, and reanimate the body, and return your dear one to your bosom.” Is this the consolation you desire? Is it for this that you cultivate the sweet affections, and guide the opening mind, and direct the rising thought, and guard the unstained soul from peril, from the discord that may mar its joy, through all this present life ? There is no obli- gation, no responsibility, no wrong, no evil; all is nature. O no! nature is sublime, and so is law; but this is rather more nature than you need, this is an exhibition of law that you do not seek, this is a manifestation of eternal matter that you do not want. Again I say, If you have no reverence, do not sacrifice humanity. Do not deprive our nature 200 GOB AND NATURE. of its highest and only real consolation. Do not wrong yourself by ignoring your own experience, by attempting to extinguish the only sun that sheds light on your own path. To deprive a spirit of the thought of God, is indeed to shroud the world in gloom, and to extinguish hope. You may talk of nature, but what is nature ? You can only answer, It is what is. The volcano belching forth fiery lava is as much nature as the field of waving grain or blushing fruit. Law! what know we of law? Law has neither instinct nor intelligence, and it may be law that the land of to-day shall be the sea of to-morrow. Who decides that war is not nature, as well as peace ? Who tells us that ignorance is not nature, as well as knowledge ? If ignorance is bliss, is it not folly to be wise ? True, there are poverty and misery, injustice and cruelty, and groans and tears ; but why not find comfort in the thought that this is nature ? Go to the child ministering to a suffering parent, and the mother bending over the couch of a dying child, and tell them it is nature, it is only law, there is no God ; and see if, by leaving them without God, you will not leave them without hope. Go to the myriads in the crowded cities of the world, the myriads of starving, sick, degraded, outcast, suffer- ing poor, and, godless as many no doubt wish the world to be, convince them there is no God, and their condition is nature, and see how much you will add to their comfort, how much you will increase their virtue, how much you will reconcile them to their place, how much you will improve the welfare of society. And see whether, in relieving them from superstition, as you think, you do not also relieve GOD AND NATURE. 201 them of virtue and honor and integrity and hope, and degrade them in many cases to the level of the brute ; for with no intelligence, no ruling, no dispos- ing power, no God, what stimulus, what motive, to rise or to advance ? Nature’s greatest good to-day may to-morrow be her direst evil. This hour’s min- ister of pleasure, nature’s laws may make the next hour’s minister of misery. Nature is only accident, chance. Nature is only a fortuitous combination of matter, and life is only a concatenation of events. Why then toil or strive or hope, for there is no God to control ? But it is nature itself that declares itself the agent of a power supreme. It is law itself that bears testimony to the fountain of law. Great as man is, he knows not the past, he knows not the future. Beyond the hour when but the other day you became conscious of existence, what know you of the past? Nothing. Beyond this present moment, what know you of the future ? Nothing. What is “ This spot of earth we press, This speck of life in time’s great wilderness ? A narrow isthmus, ’twixt two boundless seas, The past, the future, two eternities.” This life is all we surely have, all we positively know. Take then from this present life, this world, the thought of God, and you divest it of its dignity. The past is not even a dream, the future is not even a phantom ; and nature ! who then knows what nature is, jvhat nature was, what nature will be ? It is only that the eye of God is on it all, and hal- lows all, that it has worth or beauty, that we have joy or hope. It is only because we feel God lives, that we 202 GOD AND NATURE. live, that we are above the beasts, who, while they live, yet live in death, for they know not that they live. Remove the thought of an all-ruling power, directing all, light and darkness, good and evil, joy and sorrow, past and present, towards some end beneficent, all- wise, — take away this thought, and you leave the earth a body without a soul. “ Dark- ness above, despair beneath, around it flame, within it death : — our origin a mystery, our life an enigma, our end a tragedy.” With no intelligence originat- ing and executing law, no power above controlling nature, nature is only accident, only chance, and the law of to-day may be confusion to-morrow. The life which you call nature this hour, may be death and darkness the next hour. Now go even to the low- est of human society, whose only inheritance is pov- erty, and whose only employment perhaps is crime, and if they have a reasoning power at all, if they have a ray of light above the animal, — go to those who are not superstitious, who have little reverence for churches and Sundays and Bibles and priests, — go to them and find what reconciles even them in any measure to their sad condition, and you will find it is consciousness of a power above, a God. Were it not for this, why should they live ? But they live in it may be an unuttered, but a conscious hope of better things, — hope that the controlling power, that God, somehow, some time, — to-morrow or next week or next year, in life or after life, — will in some way better their condition. And though the word faith they never heard, yet this is faith ; this is to them a faith which is the substance of things hoped for. And who dare say this may not be to GOD AND NATURE. 203 them a sustaining, a saving, a redeeming faith ? Would you convince them, if you could, that there is no God ? O how cruel, how unkind, to throw them godless upon themselves, heartless upon so- ciety, and hopeless upon the future, — to rob them of the only precious sparkling jewel which they hide beneath their rags and wretchedness, their poverty and profanity ! In kindness I say to the believer in nature as su- preme, Be content, if you can, to live amidst the blind forces round you ; if you can, be at peace and await the chance or fate that must dispose of you ; be content, and hope, even be happy if you can ; but do not doom other hearts who feel their ignorance, weak- ness, and dependence, — do not overwhelm them with the desolation of spiritual orphanage. Leave us not like little helpless children, who, being left an inheritance of wealth, are ignorant or know lit- tle of its value and its uses, bereft of parentsv and with no father’s wisdom to direct them. Let us rather cheer and sustain ourselves with the convic- tion, that “ From God we spring, to God we tend, Path, motive, guide, original and end.” The honest believer in atheism is not an unbe- liever. He does not believe there is a God, but he does believe that there is no God ; the one is a belief as positive as the other. Do you reply, that you do not believe in God, because you cannot believe in a God without a cause ? What is this but an ex- change of terms ? You believe in nature, and you are as ignorant of the cause of nature as of a cause of God. How can you believe in nature without a 204 GOD AND NATURE. first cause? You only deify nature, and worship that, believing nature has no cause, instead of ador- ing God above nature, believing that God has no cause. The atheist does not believe in the reality of God, but he does believe in the reality of nature. He does not understand how the little inert and lifeless seed, buried in the soil, should have a principle of life, which bursts from its confinement, and shoots above the ground, and rises and hardens into wood, and spreads out its hundred arms, and puts on its ver- dant robe of beauty, and lives, and grows, ancLrepeats itself through countless generations. And just as little does he understand the light that shines at mid- day ; he knows not whether the sun is a great globe of fire, or whether, like the moon, it is only a sphere reflecting rays from some greater, but remote and invisible orb. He only believes that it is nature, while another, who believes that it is nature, believes also that nature is but the expression of God ; and while the one stands lost in mystery and silent reverence before incomprehensible but blind nature, the other stands in mystery and reverence and confidence and gratitude before incomprehensible but intelli- gent God, rejoicing to believe, with the German poet, Leopold Schafer, — “ All that God owns he constantly is healing, Quietly, gently, softly, but most surely : He helps the lowliest herb with wounded stalk To rise again. Deep in the treasure-house of wealthy nature A ready instinct wakes and moves, To clothe the naked sparrow in the nest, Or trim the plumage of an aged raven. GOD AND NATURE. 205 Yea, in the slow decaying of a rose, God works, as well as in the unfolding bud, — He works, with gentleness unspeakable, In death itself, a thousand times more careful Than even the mother, watching by her sick child.” In the most kind and brotherly manner, for the comfort and peace of his own mind, as well as for the comfort of those around him, I would say to the sincere sceptic or disbeliever, Be mild in your man- ner, and beware of harsh epithets. You can exhibit as much bigotry and show as much fierceness of spirit in defending your heterodox creed, as the most abject devotee in contending for his doctrine. Tol- erate the superstitious faith of your church brother, even should he condemn you for your faith of scep- ticism. And, above all, be cool and cautious that you do not confound a rational and fraternal relig- ious faith with the fiery zeal of persecuting secta- rians. Do not mistake the extravagances of men who profess a form of religion for the fruits and spirit of religion itself. Search and try ; receive what you can receive; live lovingly, and die peacefully and fearlessly, if not hopefully. r 18 DISCOURSE XIV. IS SUFFERING NECESSARY ? perfect through sufferings. — Hebrews ii. 10. Suffering ! Who has not experienced suffering? Who has not, at some hour, been led in thought to ask the cause of suffering, — to venture a specula- tion as to the good of suffering? We are prone to form theories, and who has not some theory of suf- fering ? The element of suffering enters largely into human experience, though by no means so largely as many, as most persons, will be found to imagine. Enjoyment, or the opposite of suffering, at least the absence of suffering, greatly preponderates in the experience of ninety-nine in a hundred of the human family. But I am not now about to consider the extent of suffering, nor, except incidentally, the uses of suffering, but only the question, “ Is suffering ne- cessary ? ” In these times, perhaps more especially in these times, and even among the more liberal of religion- ists, there is a tendency to frame a philosophy of suffering, by which, as it would seem, to vindicate IS SUFFERING NECESSARY ? 207 the Creator. Wherever there is a theory of any kind to be supported, men are prone to become champions of the Deity. One class of Christians, holding one theory of the final destiny of human beings, seems to regard the justice of God as com- mitted especially to its defence. Another class, de- claring a different theory of human destiny, claims for itself the special defence of God’s boundless mercy. It is possible that in either case the cham- pionship of Deity is alike gratuitously assumed, and that the Divine character is not dependent, in any great degree, on the vindication by one of his jus- tice, or by the other of his mercy. There is a great disinclination among men to let that alone which they are not likely to improve. It is a rare thing to find a man willing to take things as they are, and endeavor to make the best of them, without perplex- ing himself sadly as to the best apology he can make for the Supreme Wisdom, in permitting to exist some things which, it is thought, might be easily dispensed with. We may hear not a little said of the necessity of suffering in the world. We may be told that it is necessary man should sometimes suffer, that he may know the better to enjoy; that without sickness he might not appreciate health. Now, this is very far from proving a necessity for suffering ; it is no elucidation of the problem ; it throws no light upon the subject; it is simply assuming, that because suf- fering is, therefore it is necessary. This is only arguing after the fact, and the argument may as well be reversed, — suffering is necessary because there is suffering. Why not contend as well, that cruelty 208 IS SUFFERING NECESSARY ? and dishonesty and hypocrisy are necessary, because without them we might not appreciate kindness, honesty, and piety ? This reasoning would, in this case, be quite as logical and forcible as in the other, so far as it is designed to vindicate the Supreme Being. Is it necessary to find an apology for the Deity in permitting the existence of suffering ? Then is it any less needful to apologize for his permission of falsehood, fraud, and cruelty. If men, in their wisdom, must defend the Deity by showing a neces- sity for suffering, they should remember that they are only placing the difficulty a step farther back, with- out in any way reducing its dimensions. If a de- fence be at all essential, why not begin the defence at the right place, and, instead of begging the ques- tion by alleging or illustrating the necessity of suffer- ing, defend the Almighty for permitting the exist- ence of such a necessity ? Some, in past times, and probably not a few in our own times, have thus apologized for the Deity, till either for themselves or for others they have apologized the Supreme Being out of existence en- tirely, leaving the world godless and themselves without God in the world. And then, when they have enthroned that which they chose to designate as nature, what have they gained in knowledge, and how great is the addition to their comfort ? Does nature need no champions ? In what respect is the relation of things changed -by the substitution of nature for God ? What flood of light then breaks in upon their minds as to the existence of suffering, or the existence of anything ? I would appeal directly to the experience of any mind which may have found IS SUFFERING NECESSARY ? 209 itself a worshipper of nature as the only God. I would ask, were such a one before me, How much farther now have you penetrated into the cause or ten- dency of things, — into the origin or destiny of man, of yourself, your own being ? Tell me, if you know more of what nature is, and how nature operates, than your neighbor knows of what God is, or how God operates ? When you have looked upon your own body, and thought upon your own mind, and traced back your own experience, and asked the whence and the why of your own existence, have you not felt the twilight pass suddenly into starless, moonless, rayless night ? Have you not felt the darkness round you deepen into a blackness palpa- ble and impenetrable ? You who would depose God, and enthrone nature, and worship law, what are you but a weed, or the merest drift floating on the stream of life ? You have come into conscious being, you know not how ; you are passing along, for you know not what ; to go whither, you cannot tell ; or to dis- appear for ever, you know not when. You may any instant become the helpless victim of blind but some- how antagonistic forces, which blot you from being or crush you into dust ; and not a trust can you have in anything, not a hope can you have for anything. Men should be very cautious about constituting themselves keepers of God’s attributes. God needs no such gratuitous championship. Does it not always betray an amazing arrogance in man to stand before his fellow-men in the attitude of an attorney who has the Creator for his client, as if he had committed to this puny mortal the guardianship of his interests and the vindication of his honor? 18 * 210 IS SUFFERING NECESSARY? And yet what is more common than for men, sin- cere, religions men, to tell us of the necessity of cer- tain plans on the part of God, in order to support the honor of his name and the integrity of his gov- ernment ? It is passing strange that man, wise as he may be, yet conscious of the rudimental character of his attainments, has not learned to be satisfied with declaring facts within his positive knowledge, instead of declaring necessities of which he can pos- sibly know nothing. To declare that God was under the necessity of adopting certain plans to accom- plish certain results, and that because certain events transpire around us, is only to abolish all distinc- tions between right and wrong, good and evil ; for then everything is right, because it is, every event is necessary, because it occurs. Even on the supposi- tion that he was so, yet if it was necessary, as we hear frequently alleged, that Jesus should be the Almighty God, and that he, as both God and man, should suffer and die, and that necessity be argued from the facts that Jesus did suffer and did die, — what is this, but confounding every conception that we have of either right or wrong, obliterating all distinctions, and paralyzing all exertion ? for then, with equal certainty, all suffering is necessary, because of the fact of its existence. Vice and virtue, kindness and crime, falsehood and truth, are alike necessary, be- cause they exist. But then an objector interposes : It is revealed, — this necessity is revealed in Scripture ; therefore it is to be believed, however it may con- found our conceptions or controvert our observation. Here is just the place for difference of sentiment. When, not content with acknowledging the fact of IS SUFFERING NECESSARY ? 211 that suffering, you allege such necessity to be re- vealed in Scripture, you should add, By my inter- pretation ; for, in reply to such objector, I state em- phatically that I find no such necessity of God re- vealed in Scripture. This is your induction, your inference from certain words, and no more. How- ever such necessity might be predicated of man, how can it be presumed of God ? The Infinite Ruler, because an infinite ruler, could be reduced to no extremity. The honor of God could not be exposed to any peril ; the stability of God’s government was dependent on the adoption of no peculiar plan. As concerning Jesus, suffering occurred ; it is ours to discern and appropriate its uses ; but when man as- serts its necessity, he transcends his knowledge. But leaving this particular instance, what do we know of human suffering, its origin and nature, its conditions and results ? Is it something entirely be- yond the control, independent of the agency, of man ? Certainly not. And yet, to prove suffering necessary, it must be shown to be, in whole and in part, utterly beyond all human knowledge and control. In what sense soever it may be necessary, there can be no ques- tion as to the facts, that suffering has been, and may often be, averted, — may be mitigated, — may be, as in many instances it is, removed by certain precautions and applications. This much we know of its nature. On certain concurrences of circumstances, on the personal disregard of certain established regulations, suffering ensues. This much we know of its condi- tions. As to its effects, suffering sometimes subdues and sometimes excites, sometimes softens and some- times irritates ; we are sometimes admonished and 212 IS SUFFERING NECESSARY ? sometimes alarmed, sometimes injured and some- times profited by suffering. This much, at least, we know of its results. At one time, suffering declares a mail’s misfortune ; at another, it declares his fault. One time it is an evidence of ignorance, and, again, it is an evidence of sin. Either an infant who has never reasoned, or a mature and accomplished man, may in any one of a thousand ways ignorantly contra- vene the regular and proper law which pertains to things, and so bring suffering upon himself. This we may term misfortune or evil. Again, one may voluntarily disregard his actual knowledge of the quality and tendency of things, and by his own act bring pain and sorrow to himself, and then he sins and is conscious of his guilt. In either case, the suffering is no less suffering, but its moral relation in one case is very different from its moral relation in the other. But then, when suffering is expe- rienced, will you console its subject by arguing its necessity? You would only console him, then, by argument against all reason ; for you are yourself assured, that by a little knowledge in the one case the misfortune could have been averted, and in the other, by a slight effort of the will, an effort which he was abundantly capable of making, the sin might have been avoided, i. e. the event would not have occurred, and neither would the suffering attend- ing it. The uses of suffering are unquestionable. Some- times K sweet are the uses of adversity.” It has been true, as the world’s history demonstrates, that obstacles have been the steps up which the sons of men have climbed to knowledge, power, and place, IS SUFFERING NECESSARY ? 213 and even moral excellence. Who are the sages whom the world admires ? They who, by persever- ing research, and by protracted thought, foregoing ease and health, have opened doors which were long closed, and revealed mysteries long undiscovered. Who are the heroes whom the world honors ? Those who have resolved and acted, removing obstructions, surmounting obstacles, bravely encountering, and proudly vanquishing, numerous opposing forces ; se- curing peace, or property, or liberty, or all of them. Who are the martyrs whom the world reveres ? They who, through persecution and hatred, through tortures and fires, through tears and blood, and pain and death, at the stake or on the cross, have witnessed a sublime loyalty to duty and to truth, as they esteemed it ; who, with unfaltering fidelity to their convictions, have shown the power in man to forfeit even life rather than to forfeit rectitude. Such are the facts, in all past history, of human experience. Historically, suffering has been, and in fact is, one, but only one, powerful agent in the formation of human character, in developing the noblest virtues and the sweetest graces. The highest perfection yet attained has, perhaps, been a perfection attained “ through suffering.” Yet, after all this, it would be neither good reasoning nor true philosophy to insist, that because there has been suffering, and because it has been overruled, so as to be instrumental in the development of character, in the cultivation of hu- man virtues, it is therefore a necessity, a univer- sal and inevitable law, or a special ordination of God. First, consider other questions. Is there no reality of enjoyment without a reality of suffering ? 214 IS SUFFERING NECESSARY ? Must we always endure in order to enjoy ? Con- sider facts again. A swelling flood in one country, or one neighborhood, sweeps away a habitation and destroys a human life, whilst it irrigates and renders fruitful many miles of land ; but are not whole king- doms or states equally irrigated and made fruitful at the same time, without the destruction of a single dwelling or a single being ? As to the development of human virtues, men are very differently affected. One man loses the accumulations of hard-hearted avarice, and becomes generous only as he becomes poor. Another man acquires wealth by his exer- tions, and grows generous only as he grows rich. So far from suffering being a necessity in his devel- opment of virtues, one man is haughty and cruel in his power, and grows kind and gentle as he feels his power passing from his hands. Another is unsocial and forbidding in his poverty and obscurity, and he grows agreeable as he grows eminent, and his virtues keep pace with his riches and honors. One man ac- quires great knowledge, and benefits his race only at the sacrifice of comfort and of health. Another gains equal knowledge and confers equal benefits upon the world, gaining in ease as he gains in knowledge, and growing healthier as he grows wiser. Many men now, as in the days of St. Paul, may exclaim with him, “ We glory in tribulation, know- ing that tribulation worketh patience, and patience experience, and experience hope.” It is most true that tribulation has wrought patience, and experience hope. St. Paul declared then a truth, which may be echoed now as truth ; but St. Paul did not, and we now need not, announce this as a divine decree, a IS SUFFERING NECESSARY ? 215 universal and inevitable law of God ; for it is just as true that there have been among men great patience, great experience, and great hope, without the endur- ance of great tribulation. Whenever men have defined theories of religion to maintain, verbal systems to defend, they are in dan- ger of giving to every subject a narrow and super- ficial examination. They are likely to turn their faces and pursue researches in one direction, whilst above them, and behind them, and on every side, are wonders of truth, as broad and high and everlasting as that which engrosses their attention. In fortifying theories, we are always in danger of ignoring facts ; in speculations on what may be, we usually over- look what is ; in supporting a doctrine, we may neg- lect a duty ; and by anxiety to establish a possibility, we often lose the enjoyment of a grand reality. What then ? do you inquire. Am I not attempt- ing to demolish some one theory, only to win spoils to enrich and adorn some other ? No ! most assuredly no ! I have not been avoiding the whirlpool only to be dashed upon the rock. Standing on the shore of a broad and rapid stream, with sand and soil, and shell and rock, and tree and shrub, around me, and but a single day to learn something of their nature and their uses, and communicate that knowledge, should I spend my time and exhaust my strength only in heaving my line and lead, to gratify a mor- bid curiosity as to whether the sands in the bosom of the stream’s dark depths correspond with those beneath my feet ? Speculation up to the acknowledged limits of our knowledge is proper, and should be useful ; but too 216 IS SUFFERING NECESSARY ? brief, at longest, is human life, to waste it in pro- tracted and dreamy conjecturings as to the possible origin of suffering, or its possible design. Your apologies or mine are unneeded to preserve untar- nished the lustre of divine attributes. Our vindica- tions of the Deity are wholly gratuitous. The char- acter of the Infinite and Supreme, whether for justice or for mercy, is not likely to suffer in the absence of our defence. Here we are, in the midst of this brief passage of existence, with its vicissitude of joys, sor- rows, regrets, and anxieties, its learnings and its labors. As the world is, the best of us must expe- rience our share of goods and evils, disappointments and successes, enjoyments and sufferings. Why can we not be so truly wise, so truly philosophical, so truly Christian, so apostolic and so Christ-like, as to accept the world as it is, and, during the brief period for which it is our field of action, avail ourselves of actual knowledge justly to improve that which is obviously within our reach, and gratefully enjoy that which we improve, using this world as not abusing it ? Man is great, — great in his nature, great in his capacities ; his duties are great, and great is the des- tiny before him ; yet, withal, he is only relatively great. On every side we perceive the confines of our knowledge. Ignorant of the hidden forces which may every hour combine in the atmosphere around us ; unable by our most piercing vision to penetrate one inch below the surface of the earth beneath our feet ; unable to foresee or distinguish the elements of nutriment or destruction, life or death, which we inhale in our momentary breathings ; unable to look through this thin casement of flesh and read the IS SUFFERING NECESSARY? 217 heart of a single human being, as to whether it throbs with hatred or with love ; unable in our pro- foundest wisdom to comprehend the formation of a single bud, or leaf, or seed, the most diminutive ; — in such comparative ignorance of the very objects, the material objects, immediately before our eyes and beneath our hands, shall we bring down the Infinite Life? Shall we arraign the Creative Power and Supreme Disposer before the court of our puny, trembling judgment ? Shall we, who cannot see one hour before us, — shall we challenge the controlling Power which moves myriads of worlds, and judge God for his deficiencies, — pronounce to be imperfec- tions in God’s work, the merest vicissitudes within our narrow observation? The instinct of common modesty alone would pronounce these the most un- reasonable pretensions of a reasonable being. As to corporeal suffering, the fact of its existence is unde- niable ; but these other facts must also be acknowl- edged, namely, that by proper precautions much suffering may be averted, and by proper applica- tions most suffering may be mitigated, and much of it removed. All vindications of Providence, all de- fences of Deity, therefore, on the ground of the ne- cessity of suffering, are unreasonable, as they are gratuitous, alike unbecoming to the philosopher, the man, or the Christian. We perceive that the occa- sion of suffering is either our ignorance or our sin, our want of knowledge or our wilful disregard of knowledge, except in case of voluntary pain for others’ relief, and even then it is disregard. Though the proportion of suffering in the world is very small to that of enjoyment or the absence of suffering, yet 19 218 IS SUFFERING NECESSARY? there is enough to enlist our attention for its allevia- tion, and both the brevity of human life and the nar- row limits of human knowledge forbid all dreamy and profitless conjecture as to its possible origin or design. By lightning-rods we avert the lightning, with the destruction and suffering which it might occasion. By precaution we actually avoid much disease, and by medicine we actually remove much disease and the suffering it brings. These facts, then, that suffering may be, to a great extent, avoid- ed or alleviated, are those which most concern us, which demand all the time and thought and aid, which, as moral agents, we have to render. True, suffering has its uses ; it sometimes incidentally leads to health, and develops character, and elicits virtues. So cold winter leads to genial spring, and revival follows decay, and life proceeds from death. But it would be presumptuous indeed to deny that all the good which actually follows human suffering could not, in the natural order of Providence, be equally effected by other agencies, in the entire absence of corporeal pain or mental anguish. It would be as reasonable to allege that man cannot enjoy health without first a course of sickness, or enjoy food without a previous period of starvation ; that man could not be innocent or virtuous without first being guilty or vicious. We now know something — let us diligently study and know more — of the occasions of human suffering ; and by enlarging the boundaries of our knowledge, by quickening the acuteness of our perceptions, by deepening our sympathies and stimulating our energies, we may elevate ourselves and do much toward accomplishing one of the no- IS SUFFERING NECESSARY ? 219 blest ends of our individual existence, in ameliorat- ing the present condition, and thus increasing eter- nally the aggregate happiness, of mankind. In lov- ing, we become godlike, for God is love. Blessed are the pure in heart ; for pure-heartedness, integrity of soul, unoffending conscience, — these alone con- stitute now, and shall eternally constitute, that king- dom of Heaven in which suffering can achieve no victories, for death itself only opens the door to the full glory of its infinite riches. DISCOURSE XV. THOUGHTS CONNECTED WITH THE OKIGIN OE EVIL. THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. CAN I DISCERN BETWEEN GOOD AND EVIL? — 2 Samuel xix. 35. / In meditating on the original design of things, and the adaptation of means to ends, the reflecting mind is led to inquire whether all that we call evil and all that we call good, all we regard as mis- fortune and all we regard as prosperity, may not be justly described as a matter of knowledge, more or less, — all things being good with a true knowledge of their capacities and uses, and all evil in propor- tion to our want of knowledge and consequent misuse of things. Does not all past history of human action strongly indicate that the object of human life is simply to acquire and to improve, and, as we acquire and im- prove, to appropriate and enjoy ? Every faculty of our human nature, as far as we can discern, is adapted to ends which we recognize as good. Why then is there not a correspondence between each faculty and each one of its operations ? May we THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. 221 not determine that every instance and degree of want of correspondence testifies to the absence of a true knowledge of the faculty employed and its true uses ? Shall I not, then, by constant observation and by protracted experience, enlarge my knowledge of each faculty and its adaptations, and by the just exercise of every organ, already understood to some extent, enlarge its powers and continue to acquire and to enlarge, and so fulfil the true design of being? Want, sorrow, disappointment, disease, death, — these are what we call evils. This much ordinary experience has taught us all, — that these evils, as we term them, are occasioned or increased by our want of knowledge, and in individual cases are reduced or diminished in proportion to a com- prehensive knowledge of the nature and laws of men and things. At least each of these, and every form of evil, is magnified to our perception by our inability to discover with accuracy how it arises, how it makes progress or is sustained, when and what will be its termination. The circumstance of an individual’s birth is one over which he can have no control, and yet it is one which, more than any other, perhaps, determines all the other events which form his character and make up his life, for evil or for good. Why one should enter upon life an heir to poverty and ignorance, perhaps to the shame and disgrace of vicious parents, and another enter upon life an heir to affluence and intelligence, and to the honor of distinguished and virtuous parents, not only affords room for meditation on the varied al- lotments of human existence, but occasions fre- quent murmurings against the apparent partiality 19 * 222 THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. of the creating Power, the ruling Providence. But is there here in reality any partiality or favoring of one above another ? Is there in the varied allotments of life any proof of departure from established condi- tions, natural and universal laws of being, — of the relations of things? Could we in any given in- stance trace up the history of a human being, not only through its own but through a parent’s life, we might discover that whether poverty or disease, suf- fering or sorrow, be the apparent evil in the case, it is the natural and necessary result of voluntary action on the part of some one ; a consequence which could not, according to any natural order of things, — which could not without a miraculous in- terposition of power, — have been averted. Such is the essential relation we sustain to each other as so- cial beings. To inquire why the Supreme Power permits one to begin existence under circumstances so different from those under which another begins it, — is it not asking why the Creator rules by-laws, instead of interfering miraculously to rectify each particular error, each and every departure from the natural order of things ? Is it not asking why it is that, when a parent by ignorance, improvidence, or habitual vice brings upon himself want, disease, and suffering, the Supreme Ruler does not suspend the operation of natural law, which connects parent and child as social beings, and secure to the child, mi- raculously, comfort and health and enjoyment from the moment of its birth ? Is it not simply asking why God does not destroy the connection between cause and consequence ? For we certainly cannot conceive of all at birth beginning life under equally THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. 223 favorable circumstances, without supposing all par- ents to be of like physical and moral qualities, and in an exactly similar state both as to temporal and spiritual concerns. But why permit evil to exist at all ? is probably the next inquiry. Is this anything more than asking- why we are not made machines instead of men, things instead of souls, unintelligent instead of rational beings ? It is only the possession of will under the control of understanding and reason which distin- guishes man from the mere animal, and we cannot well conceive of a rational being with the exercise of free will, yet without the capacity to discern and to choose either what we term good or what we term evil. God might have made us to vegetate and decay like trees, or to crystallize and^ dissolve like minerals, or to form and breathe and die and perish like brutes ; but trees, or minerals, or brutes, we should then have been, and not men, not souls, — ra- tional or accountable beings we could not be. I do not affirm that there cannot be rational and account- able beings without any power to choose one way from another, one thing from another, — without power either to know a rule and to act by that rule, or to disregard that rule, — without power to perform a wrong act as distinct from a right one, to choose either evil or good ; but this I affirm, that we cannot possibly conceive of such a being, we can form no conception of a free, accountable agent, without both reason and will to perceive and choose what we call right and what we call wrong, what we call good and what we call evil. But perhaps you are sceptical, in the common acceptation of that term, 224 THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. and you like not the term God. You believe there is no God because there is evil. Well, you being earnest, permit me in like earnestness to inquire, and ponder the inquiry with deliberation, What is it that you gain, how much clearer is your thought, what mystery do you solve, by denying God and attributing all to nature ? for we must suppose you to exchange God for nature. How much more dis- tinct and satisfactory are your apprehensions of evil as permitted by nature than as permitted by God ? By nature you do not understand intelligence, but fate, chance, a fortuitous concurrence of atoms or events. Does not the mystery then become doubly mysterious ? Can you any better explain this fact of one class of beings, human beings, distinct from all others, the only rational, accountable, and indefi- nitely progressive beings ? Then the evil and the good, the endurance and enjoyment, do these be- come more explicable than before ? Why should nature be thus partial in her gifts and her arrange- ments? Why should nature, blind, unintelligent nature, thus operate at all, as the fact is undeniable, by laws ? How comes connection between cause and effect, this stability, uniformity, regularity, this distinction between things and beings, between various classes of beings? No intelligence, blind chance, a fortuitous concurrence of things, — is not this the most mysterious of all mysteries, the most incomprehensible of all incomprehensibilities ? Is it not more terribly wonderful than God himself? Still, in inquiring mind, you may return and ask how I can tell that the animal creation — what we style the inferior orders of being — are wholly irra- THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. 225 tional and unaccountable? With frankness I reply, I do not know that the inferior orders of creation are wholly destitute of reason and sense of obligation. They may have reason, they may have will, they may have a law of duty, with capacity to regard or disregard; but this much is obvious, namely, that between them and man there is a line distinct and broad, — a line so uniform, invariable, and universal, and, as far as we can see, perpetual, that to account for this by chance, by accident, by mere blind force, by any fortuitous commotion of unintelligent mat- ter, by anything you can call nature, is to exer- cise credulity and to defy reason to an extent un- equalled by the blind, unquestioning belief of the most superstitious devotee of a perverted religion. Such a believer in nature may well afford to believe in anything, for as to credulity he is unsurpassed by the most unscrupulous worshipper of a wholly su- pernatural faith. Certainly he has no room for a syllable of boasting over Mohammedan, Jew, Ro- manist, or Protestant ; for not one iota more of rea- son can he furnish for his faith in these operations of nature, than can the devoutest religionist on earth for his faith in his God, whatever his God may be. It is only a change of terms, and the one adores nature with as blind a trust as the Moham- medan or the Jew adores Allah or Jehovah. I can easily perceive how some, indignant at the follies of mankind, and mystified by what are called the evils of the world, fearlessly and sincerely deny a God ; but the facts of the world and man and life remain, and remain the same ; so, to be consistent, they should deny nature too. Why repudiate God and 226 THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. go about to build a temple to an abstraction you call nature or law ? No, if on the ground of life and its evil you depose God, do not without shadow of reason enthrone nature or law, but consistently and boldly assert there is no God, no nature, no law. Whatever is, is, and whatever is, is right. This is the beginning and the end of all we know or can know ; and this we do not know, for we are sure of nothing and can be sure of nothing. This is the only consistent ground for one who denies the exist- ence of a Supreme Intelligent Power. But to return to the question of the evil of the world. Is it not so, that what to one would be en- durance, suffering, intense pain, is to another not pain, not suffering, not even endurance ? Poverty and want, and even disease, and much that we call evil, — are not these very different things to different persons ? In one case, all of these combined may not be an evil, in the sense of causing pain or an- guish. In another case, any one of them may be a serious evil, producing deep suffering of mind or body. Constitution, temperament, habit, and asso- ciation determine the character of these circum- stances. There is vastly less of actual evil than probably any of us suppose, and what are called evils, — are they not the soil ofttimes from which the sublimest virtues spring, to nourish the truest human enjoyment? Who can define evil ? Who can with confidence assert that “ All nature is not art, unknown to thee, All chance, direction which thou canst not see, All discord, harmony not understood, All partial evil, universal good ” ? THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. 227 “ Ask of the learned the way, the learned are blind : This bids to serve, and that to shun mankind ; Some place the bliss in action, some in ease, Those call it pleasure, and contentment these.” This recalls the question, Are want and disap- pointment and disease things necessarily pertain- ing to human society, or are they anything more than proofs of our imperfect knowledge, our unde- veloped faculties? Here we must view the subject from another stand-point. In one sense our igno- rance itself must be deemed an evil. As being the occasion of the evil, it is the evil. In other words, we may deem it a misfortune that we do not have sufficient knowledge to avoid or obviate the ordi- nary ills of life. Yet there must be conflicting forces, or we can perceive no moral achievement; there must be restraint and obstacles, or we can see no ground for exertion ; there must be imperfection, or we can see no room for development. But specula- tion ceases on this point. These facts are beyond all controversy : our nature is but partially developed, — there are obstacles to be overcome, exertions must be made, — we must acquire, we must advance, we must achieve. This is the law, the universal law, of life and true enjoyment, and these conditions of being can neither be ignored, nor altered, nor de- stroyed, whether the author of this law be called nature or called |God. Here we are brought back to the proposition with which we began, that good and evil may be only other terms for knowledge and a want of knowledge, faculties developed and faculties undeveloped, — all things being good with a true knowledge of their capacities and uses, and 228 THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. all evil in proportion to our want of knowledge, and consequent misuse of things, — nothing being evil in itself, but evil being only a term descriptive of good misunderstood, or good perverted. From which proceeds again this other proposition, that, as indi- cated by all present observation and all past history of human action, the true object of human life is simply to develop, acquire, and improve, and, as we develop, acquire, and improve, to appropriate and enjoy. Our life, therefore, our development, ac- quirement, and enjoyment, have no special reference to the past, nor any special reference to the future ; for these conditions would be unaltered though we had no knowledge of the past and no conception of the future. I am to seek to-day all just means to improve, acquire, appropriate, and enjoy, not that I may avoid pain or secure happiness beyond the grave, but to live thus to-day because this is the law of my being, the true condition of a true life, and there is not a single circumstance within the range of human wisdom to show me that it would be in any wise different, were this day the only day of life I should ever have in this or any other world. Hell or no hell after death, heaven or no heaven after death, this law of improvement and enjoyment here, from all that we can possibly discover, is and would be absolutely universal, unchanged, and un- . changeable. Religionists of every name, including most Christians of every sect, have made, and still represent, the chief ground of duty and chief object of life as pertaining to the invisible state beyond the present. Yet, with a singular inconsistency, many Christians of every sect regard the condition THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. 229 of that future state, whether happiness or the re- verse, as something which is neither to be avoided, averted, bought, bribed, or won, or in any measure shunned or obtained, by any act of theirs, by any- thing which they can do on earth. They insist that the happiness of that state is to be procured, for those who shall enjoy it, by some sacrifice, atone- ment, arrangement, or plan, devised and executed by the Deity himself, so that all — as they appropriate certain phraseology to express it — all will be of grace and not of works. And still, in the face of this dis- dinctly delineated theological device, which is pro- claimed and defended continually by thousands, by these same defenders all men are daily entreated and exhorted with earnestness and zeal to believe and perform that which will secure them heaven and happiness, and not to believe and perform that which will insure them hell and misery in the invis- ible world ; • — all of those referred to thus seeming to agree in these two propositions first : that the great object of human life and exertion is, by some means or management, to avoid misery and secure heaven beyond the grave ; and second, that, by reason of their entire sinfulness or helplessness, nothing they possibly can do in this life can either obviate the one condition or secure the other in the future and eternal state. These two clashing propositions, the one completely neutralizing the other, embody the sum and substance, the theory and practice, of the religion of the greater part of the Christian world. And what is the result ? The result, as far as it is apparent, is this. The one proposition impresses and takes strongest hold on some minds, and the 20 230 THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. other proposition impresses and takes strongest hold on other minds. For both cannot be entertained and adopted as principles of action by the same person. The lives of some, therefore, — those im- pressed most deeply with the proposition that the grand object of all human exertion is to avoid mis- ery and secure heaven, — are characterized by more or less effort to correct and improve themselves, in view of the great end to be attained finally. While as to those most impressed with the other proposition, — that by reason of natural sinfulness they are entire- ly helpless, either as to avoiding misery or securing happiness hereafter, — we may find their lives less marked by any moral exertion, development, or prog- ress. Having no faith in their own nature, they live in conformity, to some extent, with their want of faith. But neither of these appear to conceive of develop- ment, acquirement, progress, and enjoyment as form- ing and comprising the true and complete objects of human life, human life including death as part of its experience, death not being the end, but only an im- portant but natural vicissitude in the life of the soul, which life begins not at dissolution, but at birth, or when the soul began to be. All experience establishes beyond reasonable ques- tion, that the conditions of our present existence and enjoyment are invariably and universally the same, — effort, progress, virtue. Find one whose trials have been neither few nor small, one who long has been a son of sorrow and has borne a heavy burden, whose path in life has been both rough and thorny, — find such a son of earth, and comfort him if possible with the description of a peace and joy and glory in re- THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. 231 serve for him hereafter, — assure him of happiness and heaven in the remote and unseen future, — and when you have done this, how much will you have done to explain the mystery of his present trials ? What ray of light will you have shed upon the dim- ness of the dusty road which he has travelled ? How much will you have done to explain the fact of his present suffering, sad, and weary existence ? Either to vent his own complainings, or to test the depth of your comforting philosophy, he may turn and exclaim, in reply to your well-intended consolations : “ Peace and joy hereafter, do you tell me? happiness and heaven my reward beyond the grave ? What can you mean by this ? There is my nearest neighbor, whose sky through life has scarcely ever known a cloud ; sor- row has scarcely visited his door, and scarcely a bur- den has he been called to bear through all the years that he has walked on earth. How then ? are there not also peace and joy and glory in reserve for him here- after ? Is not his assurance of future heaven and hap- piness equal quite to that which you have given me ? ” How then, tell me, would you answer him ? Where- in would be the special value of your consolation ? How could you make a future heaven appear in any way a reward or compensation for the trials of this present earth ? How much would your promises of possible and invisible joys reconcile him to his actual experience of real sorrows ? Now, I know that men do find and take comfort in these hopes of rewards and heaven and happiness hereafter, and the fact bears witness to the disposition we ever have to em- brace and dwell upon even the prospect of a good, and to overlook and leave out of Sight even a present 232 THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. real evil. It bears witness to the affinity of the soul for what is bright and promising, rather than for what is dark and threatening. But it is strange still, that mankind have so long been satisfied with this, — content to bind up their wounds, and in the hour of weakness and helplessness to soothe themselves with a sort of selfish dream of glorious rewards or gracious gifts bestowed, — of unspeakable and heavenly joys in another and unseen world beyond the grave. They seem to be content with the philosophy, that “ Hope springs eternal in the human breast ; Man never is, but always to be, blest.” This may be poetry, but it is not truth. The senti- ment is as unworthy as it is untrue. Man is — man oftentimes is greatly blest, and knows it too ; and more, O how much more blest might he still be than he is ! I would detract nothing from the most ardent fancy of felicities in a future world. I would cherish the clearest convictions of a future heaven, which a firm and ever-growing faith can give ; but I would not have the strongest convictions concerning the future silence my earnest inquiries as to my own present welfare. We wilfully close our eyes, or we must see that no theory of an unchangeable hell or heaven in the future explains, resolves, and reconciles the varied and nameless differences, troubles, and evils of this present life. May not the sum of human joys on earth be greater? May not the magnitude of present evils be diminished, and the number of pres- ent evils be reduced ? May not the standard of human comfort, and of human aspirations here, be elevated ? May not the vast aggregate of human THE OBJECT OF HUMAN LIFE. 233 enjoyment in this present life be greatly, indefi- nitely increased ? These are no fanciful inquiries. These are questions of deep, direct personal con- cern to every human being. And no creed, theory, or doctrine concerning a future world should ever be permitted to overshadow or drive these ques- tions from our earnest thoughts. For surely, by elevating the condition of this life, we cannot be degrading the condition of that which is to come. Surely, by multiplying the true joys of earth,, we cannot be detracting from the true joys of heaven. And when, by submitting to the closest scrutiny all the faculties and all the organs of our nature, we find each and every one, in common with every object in creation round us, adapted to beneficent uses, de- signed by nature in every case for good, we are not without reason to believe that the mystery of evil yet may be explained, and the tears be wiped from the cheek of earth’s sorrowing children, and the pres- ent woes of our world be found only in the records of human history. 20 * DISCOURSE XVI. THE POWER OF MIND. — SOME GREAT THOUGHT. AS DYING, AND, BEHOLD, WE LIVE ; AS CHASTENED, AND NOT KILLED ; AS SORROWFUL, YET ALWAY REJOICING ; AS POOR, YET MAKING MANY RICH; AS HAYING NOTHING, AND YET POSSESSING ALL THINGS. — 2 Cor. vi. 9, 10. “ Give me some great thought,” were the last words of a great author to his weeping friends around his bed. And this is what every mind is long- ing for, not only in a dying hour, but in every hour of weariness, or doubt, or trial, or mental darkness. As something to lean on, something to repose on for relief, the mind seeks for some great thought ; — something which may task the highest powers, draw them out, and raise them up above the vexations of the hour ; — something which seems to be commensurate with the mind itself, corresponding with the soul’s dignity. When the common cares of life annoy us, and seem to draw us down and tie us fast as cap- tives to their littleness, do we not feel an indescrib- able sense of shame, a sort of degradation, as if in a place which is unworthy of us ? We feel as if strug- gling to throw off some vast weight, which, in spite of ourselves, oppresses us. We feel something within, THE POWER OF MIND. 235 which tells us we are made for something higher, nobler, better, than this which we endure, — which we resist, but are unable wholly to repel. There must be, I think, times of such consciousness, such expe- rience, to all of us. The mind feels itself dishonored by submission to these perplexities and trials, and yet it sees that submission is inevitable. Still it does not see that these painful and prostrating effects are wholly inevitable. It has an impression that it may live in earth’s cares, and yet live above them ; that it may move among them, and yet not be of them ; that there is an inner life, which, if it may not destroy the outer life, may triumph over it. The majesty of the mind may assert itself, and declare its supremacy over the body and all material things, over disap- pointment and all contingencies. This is the state of mind of which St. Paul speaks, — as dying, yet living; as chastened, not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing all things. But what was there in the circumstances of Paul explanatory of these paradoxes ? Who was St. Paul ? He was one who had been among the fiercest of the Pharisaic Jews. His Jewish piety had led him to the most implacable intolerance. And though Jesus was himself a Jew, and his followers principally Jews, yet so entirely obnoxious did he regard Jesus as a teacher, so utterly at variance with the Hebrew expectation of a Messiah or Deliverer from national bondage to Rome, that he persecuted those followers with unmitigated severity. He even hired himself to the high-priests, that he might obtain the privilege of seizing on all, regardless of age or sex, on the way 236 THE POWER OF MIND. to the city of Damascus, and bring them down bound to Jerusalem, where pretext might be found for their punishment. But on his way to Damascus, a mid- day vision changed entirely the purposes of the man, and the faith which once he would have destroyed he now preached. Though the views, principles, and object of the man were now changed, his tempera- ment, his nature, was unchanged. He was the same ardent, fearless, zealous man. He regarded himself as the chosen Apostle to the Gentiles, — that is, of the heathen nations, Greeks, Romans, and all beneath the Roman sway, — rather than as the Apostle to the Jews. He brought with him into his new work all his native energy and per-severing industry. This appears in the fact, that he is the writer of full half of the New Testament, or more than twice as much of it as any other of the writers ; — while no doubt a much larger number of his letters were never circu- lated beyond the churches to which they were ad- dressed, than the whole of those which have been transmitted to this day. The threatenings and slaughter which it is said he breathed out against the disciples were now ex- changed for a determined zeal, which led him to hazard threatenings and slaughter in defence of what he deemed the truth. His ardor supported him through every vicissitude, and, as he himself de- scribes, he learned both how to be abased and how to abound, how to enjoy and how to suffer need. He was in perils by sea, in perils by land, in perils among false brethren ; yet through all he was borne triumphantly, by a tranquil, trustful, earnest, and ever-active spirit. A similar spirit was strikingly SOME GREAT THOUGHT. 237 manifest in most of his fellow-disciples of the new religion. The exigencies of the time demanded such a spirit, and the demand was answered. The hos- tility of the Hebrew was deep and ardent, while the rage of the Roman and Greek was easily aroused. To profess interest in the new faith, was to subject one’s self to privations and afflictions of every form, and even to endanger life. Yet feeling assured there was something superior to popular approbation, something better than bodily comfort or even bodily life, — a knowledge of duty discharged, a sense of rectitude adhered to, a love of truth, and a life of peace within, — they went on, waited on, worked on, with cheerful, trustful hearts, which raised them above all depression from the appalling perils to which they were exposed. This was the condition which St. Paul described as dying, yet living ; sor- rowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, yet possessing all things. This state of mind was not peculiar to St. Paul, nor even to the early Christians. There always have been those who by exalted views of duty have cre- ated round themselves an atmosphere so inspiring and life-giving, as to keep them raised above the de- pressions so frequently attending the common dis- appointments and trials of life. Sometimes, indeed, the true inspiring principle has been based on unreal dangers. Men have shown the highest courage, and performed admirable deeds, in order to avert some imaginary evil, or to achieve some uncertain good. Very much of the privation and suffering heroically endured by martyrs to a creed or church, has been heroically endured not so much from unwavering 238 THE POWER OF MIND. attachment to truth, not so much because they felt that they must adhere to principle and obey the voice of right which spoke within, as because of the ultimate evil it might avert from themselves, or the approbation it might win from God. It was not duty, it was not principle, but it was an honest and sincere, though misguided, selfishness. Many of those who have devoted and are devoting themselves now with earnestness to the work of missions, — who leave home and friends, — who, like St. Xavier in India, or Father Marquette in our country, bravely encounter every form of endurance, — with lofty spirits are car- ried on in their zealous work, never wearying in ef- fort, never turning back discouraged by small results, never sinking under disappointment, resisting and repeatedly overcoming hunger, thirst, sickness, by the force of a determined will, till the exhausted corporeal nature can finally resist no longer, and they die, — and all, not because they simply, clearly felt it to be right, and that they must do right, but because of their compassion for souls; — not from a desire to enlighten the minds, improve the actual condition, of savages and heathens, — to give more elevated views of their own nature, and advance them as intellect- ual beings, — but simply to save their souls from the eternal wrath of God. They see, as they conceive, a cursed, fallen, and perishing world. They do not stop to answer the Scriptural inquiry, “ Can a mor- tal man be more just than God ? ” but they feel that on their feeble efforts, — such is their view of God’s justice, — on their faint and limited exertions, God has made to depend the salvation of many of these souls from an eternal misery to which they were SOME GREAT THOUGHT. 239 doomed from the beginning of the earth, — for ages before they had existence. On the mere choice of their will, whether they go or stay, these Christian men can persuade themselves to believe the alterna- tive of eternal happiness or eternal misery to pa- gans is suspended. They are more just, they are more merciful, than the Infinitely Good, the Author of nature ; and away they hasten, and fearlessly do they contend and perseveringly labor to save some perishing souls from the endless fury of an unrelent- ing Deity. In this life, this labor, this sacrifice, suf- fering, and premature death, these enthusiasts rejoice. By the all-conquering power of will, they rise above the fear of ordinary trials. They feel that, though poor, they are making others rich; for they are secur- ing to accursed and ignorant pagan souls salvation from the ceaseless anger of the Christian’s God. They feel that, although having nothing, they yet possess all things, as being themselves secure of eter- nal happiness ; and in their zeal they can despise the wealth, power, and distinctions of this life, for they possess all things in possessing a triumphant faith in themselves as chosen, elect of God. We thus see how men can, through the most unreasonable and offensive proposition when embraced as a conviction, draw out from within a spiritual force, which, like strong wings, bears them up above the power of dis- appointments, depressions, and pains; and though sorrowful for others perishing, yet they are always rejoicing in themselves ; though dying, they yet live, for they fear not, they defy, death. If such narrow and shocking views of the character of God, and des- tiny of ignorant and helpless souls, can be made the 240 THE POWER OF MIND. basis of a sustaining power so great, so inestimable to the human mind, what might we reasonably sup- pose to be the sustaining, inspiring, life-giving in- fluence of a profound, firm trust in the infinite good- ness and perfect justice of God, the author and ruler of all, and an equally firm trust in the certain value, efficiency, and power of every effort on the part of man to be right and to do good, — to preserve himself from wrong and to promote the purity and progress of others ? This trust was the source of St. Paul’s superiority to the vexations and perplexities of life. It was not because he felt that he was more com- passionate than the Almighty ; not that he believed he would himself do more for souls of Gentiles than the Creator of souls would do ; not that he be- lieved the eternal destiny of Greeks and Romans to depend upon the courage with which he or any other should go forth and offer to them a plan, a scheme of escape from the universal and eternal curse of that Being whom Jesus had taught his fol- lowers to call “ Our Father.” No, not at all. But because he became alive to the true dignity of man, the inherent power of the human soul, the superiority of mind as the representative of God and sovereign of earth, and felt it dishonorable in man to bow and sink in despondency before the evils and sorrows inci- dental to this visible stage of his existence. He was conscious of a power within, by which he might en- joy a high and serene condition, neither “ Thrown into tumult, raptured, nor alarmed, By aught this scene can threaten or indulge.’’ Not that he was to become stoically indifferent to the pains, pleasures, joys, sorrows, or sufferings of SOME GREAT THOUGHT. 241 others. This was not the case with St. Paul. The many epistles of the New Testament of which he was the author, bear abundant witness to his indus- try and energy. His superiority to common afflic- tions was no fatalism, deadening his zeal, and in its tendency destructive of real progress. He was al- ways rejoicing, yet he was sorrowful. Like him, we are to be sorrowful over the ignorance and selfish- ness which dry up the fountains of charity and dis- turb the peace of the world, the brotherly fellowship of man with man. Like him, it is for us (each in his own sphere and in his own way) to exert our- selves for the amelioration of society. And, like him, we may always rejoice in the unwavering faith, that, limited as may be our means* imperfect as may be our efforts, imperceptible as may be results, still we may do our duty, and the almighty, eternal, and beneficent Power who directs and overrules all will permit nothing truly good, nothing well intended, to be wholly vain, to be entirely lost. Without this faith, it is not wonderful that many grow indifferent to their own and to the world’s condition, it is not wonderful that zealous hearts grow languid, and eyes, which for a time looked hopefully, come to look with coldness and despondency upon the evils and trials of this life. In some minds, rejoicing, as used by St. Paul, may mean more than he meant. It was not designed to signify a self-complacent spirit of exultation, resulting from any feeling of personal safety or personal superiority. It was no outburst or expression of rapture or ecstasy in view of an eternal heaven. By rejoicing, St. Paul meant an enduring tranquillity of mind, an inward, spiritual 21 242 THE POWER OF MIND. repose, a deep, trusting peacefulness, which, though more or less disturbed it might be, could never be destroyed. But, like the spreading circles caused by the momentary agitation of still water, the tran- sitory depressions caused by personal endurance would soon cease and fade away from sight, and all be still and deep and bright again, — the serene soul, like the still water, reflecting the eternal bright- ness of the stars, or the deep blue sky in sunlight, glorious as a smile from the face of God. Such real, inward tranquillity is true rejoicing. He who is in possession of this mind may in a literal sense be poor, yet in a true sense making many rich. What a sad, sad thing it would be, if current coin, or stocks, or deeds of real estate, were the only wealth, the only things in which a human being could be rich ! How few then who could help their fellow-man! how few then who could scatter blessings where they go ! But no one need live in himself, no one need live for himself. Advice, counsel, comfort, encouragement, are often the most precious gifts which a human being can bestow. Every one who has an eye to look a kind look, every one who has a hand to give a friendly grasp, every one who has a countenance to wear a smile, every one who has a voice to speak comfort or to speak sympathy, to in- form, to warn, to instruct, to encourage, — every such one, though poor in houses, lands, or coin, has a fund of wealth the true worth of which he cannot estimate. It is not only inexhaustible, but it grows by use, and the more you give away, the more you have remaining ; every such one may make many rich. Nothing is further from my pur- SOME GREAT THOUGHT. 243 pose than to depreciate the actual need and real power of substantial, material wealth, as the means of outward comfort, the support of physical life. Very far from this. It is one of the trials of those who can manage to subsist, and who are yet poor in the world’s goods, that a word or look, advice or encouragement, is frequently all that they have to give, while they feel that it does not meet all the want, — that more than this is needed. Sentiment has its place, but sentiment cannot always supply the place of substance. There are times when neither sympathy nor advice is needed, but when one feels compelled to say : “ I see that what you want is not counsel, not comfort, but clothing, or food, or a home, or the means of providing yourself with them by your own labor, and none of these have I to give you. You must trust in God, and trust in your own exertions to succeed, to live ; and as you best can, you must wait and seek for opportunities.” Still, what sorrow and poverty and unrewarded toil the inquiring spirit of our times discloses to us, which might be greatly mitigated by inspiring in the minds of sufferers a true sense of human dignity, by call- ing out the real power of human will, by kindling in the soul “ some great thought.” How many who have labored and hoped, and been unceasing in their industry, and yet, through defective mental training, through injudicious management, or un- foreseen contingencies, have been unfortunate, and become sad and weary of the world and of life, who sink into a listless feeling that they do not care and are not cared for, — who neither hope much nor fear much, — who look for little better in this life or in any 244 THE POWER OF MIND. life, — who scarcely think clearly enough to think whether there are good men, or whether there is a good God or any God, — but who just do what they can, and take what they can get, and live on till they die ! How many such might be warmed up into en- joyment, something more like the existence of a hu- man being, less like the existence of an unreasoning animal, by remembering some great thought, by being made sensible of the majesty of mind, by feel- ing that the soul, the spirit-power, the vital, thinking man, is not of necessity dependent on externals, — that the life of a man does not consist in the abun- dance of things which he possesseth ! How many widowed mothers and orphan daughters, and, besides widows and orphans, those born in lowly life, to toil through all their days, — how many such in our large cities, who with eyes dimmed by tears in day-time, and dimmed by feeble lamplight in night-time, sew and sob and work for a mere pittance, which employ- ers give them grudgingly, — how many poor weepers and workers are there like these, who literally make others rich, in whose breasts some great thought might be kindled which would burn there perpetu- ally, illuminating all their pathway here, down to the grave, and even there throwing its rays far over into the spirit- world ! Even the unfortunate, the poor, who are not closed up in cities, confined in dark and narrow rooms, — who walk abroad where open skies are over them, and fields and hills and forests round them, — even these, if intelligent, observing, thoughtful, might yet be possessing all things, though having nothing. For no earthly proprietor, selfish as he might be or SOME GREAT THOUGHT. 245 might wish to be, can shut up in his enclosures the sunbeams and the stars, the hills and streams and rocks and trees, and the humblest observer, though having them not, can yet appropriate and enjoy them all. Yet few, very few, perhaps, even of those who live surrounded by this exhaustless wealth of nature, truly observe or truly enjoy it. The little world of vexations, of small wants and wishes of the person, selfish and absorbing passions of the moment, contract their vision, blunt their perceptions ; and the countless glories round them, soliciting their inspec- tion, their admiration, are unheeded. But without even the opportunity of observing and enjoying na- ture are thousands, who live and die in hovels, garrets, and cellars, in all our populous communities, or who spend their time on the thronged streets, eagerly watching for something to occur to favor them. They need to be inspired with some great, elevating, sustain- ing thought, with some high resolve, — the power of a strong, clear purpose, — a will to maintain their intel- lectual sovereignty even in their heaviest misfortune, — never to surrender to despair ! But alas ! how diffi- cult is it to reach them ! They are kept so constantly looking down and thinking how they are to live at all, that they rarely look up to seize a glimpse even of the pure skies which may be seen from the pave- ment of the narrow streets on which they walk. Ministers or city missionaries may sometimes search some of them out, and give them Bibles, and tell them to read,* and whisper a word about another and a better world than this, — a heaven in which they will feel themselves rewarded for all present trials. But when do they find time to read the Bible 21 * 246 THE POWER OF MIND. which is given to them ? Should they open it, their eye may fall perchance upon some paradoxical and obscure passage, over which for ages theologians have wrangled ; and after looking till their eyes grow dim, perhaps they feel uncomforted and unim- proved, and they lay it away as something which does not meet their wants. Then as to heaven, even that is a mysterious thing ; for they can see no heaven which they are to enjoy which will not be equally enjoyed by the good, but fortunate, prosper- ous ones, who have never in this life experienced their sufferings. No, if possible they must be made to feel a divine element within them now, — a will not to be crushed and degraded utterly, and a pow- er to execute that will ; — a trust in goodness and in God now, — not that some time God will be, but that God is now, — and that every human spirit is a reflection of God, and not a mere motive-power to flesh and blood and bones. This is what we all require. Sorrow we must have, for we are social, sympathetic beings, and can- not, if we would, be indifferent to the griefs and pains, the disappointments or the joys, of others. Yet we may always have a background of rejoi- cing, an abiding, inward sense of spiritual dignity, a firm trust that what is seen, what is visible, is not all of us ; that there is a power, a will, which raises us above common depressions, — a power which cannot be destroyed. Be the legal proprietor or possessor of what we may, there are times when sickness, suffering, or some gi;eat bereavement comes, and the knowledge of any possession extrinsic to the mind, the soul, the inner man itself, is valueless. We want then SOME GREAT THOUGHT. 247 the might of a great purpose, — a high resolve not to be borne down, not to sink and despond, and shut our eyes and see no light. We want a strong will then, to look up and say, “ The heav- ens are mine”; to look abroad and say, “The earth is mine ” ; to feel that, while having noth- ing, we are possessing all things; that all things are ours, and yet we are above, superior to all things. We want a great thought, which lifts up and en- larges the soul, as if bringing it closer to its foun- tain, to God, that we may adopt and appreciate that other saying of St. Paul to the early Christians : “ Let no man glory in men, for all things are yours ; whether the world, or life,- or death, or things pres- ent, or things to come, all are yours, and ye are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.” None of us are without some sense of this majesty of mind. We have all felt that “’T is the mind which makes the body rich.” In times when we have yielded to temptation, or sunk under affliction, even at the very moment of our weakness, have we not felt an inborn dignity of soul reproaching us, and telling of a latent power and purpose by which we might throw off the burden, and rise up in majesty? Let us indulge no vague dreams of reaching every soul, even of our age, and kindling up the divine consciousness within it, but resolve to draw out more of the soul’s power, and live in a higher realm ourselves, raising the light of our example to shine down upon the way of others. Living in tran- quil self-command, “ neither raptured nor alarmed,” yet active, energetic, subduing selfish passions by a lofty purpose, a pure, powerful will, to others let us be as 248 THE POWER OF MIND. “ A beacon, shining o’er a stormy sea, A cooling fountain in a weary land, A green spot on a waste and burning sand, A rose that o’er a ruin sheds its bloom, A sunbeam smiling o’er the cold, dark tomb.” DISCOURSE XVII. CONFLICTS OF FAITH, — IN THE SOUL AND IN THE CHUKCH. I HAVE FOUGHT A GOOD FIGHT. — 2 Tim. IV. 7. In this one, no doubt among the last, of his let- ters, Paul’s peculiar style and illustrations are ap- parent. He is accustomed to represent the Christian life — the true life of the man — as a race, a battle, in some sense a contest ; and now, near the close of his own career of singular vicissitude, he declares, — not perhaps in a spirit of exultation, but in a spirit of satisfaction, of contentment, — “I have fought a good fight.” As he now stood near the summit of life’s mountain, and reviewed the devious and rugged path by which he had ascended, he enjoyed the tran- quil satisfaction of feeling, that, taking his life as a whole, he had, as he elsewhere expresses the same idea, come off conqueror. One of the best descriptions of human life is that in which he presents it as a conflict. It matters lit- tle what names some may like or dislike : facts are not altered by the names which men choose to give 250 CONFLICTS OF FAITH. or to withhold. You may call it accident or design, chance or law, — you may call it nature, or you may call it the appointment of God, — it is none the less fact, confirmed by all human history, that improve- ment is the result of effort ; that most of what man calls good in life is the attendant of exertion ; that success is to follow toil. And not only so, but im- provement, success, good, even when achieved, are only preserved by continued exertion and unwearied vigilance. Thus, in an important sense, life, every life, is a fight ; and in every case it is, or it is not, a good fight. There is, in many, a propensity to in- dolence, which shrinks from effort, because it finds nothing worth contending for. Possessing an inher- itance, or through the abundance and liberality of friends, or by some concurrence of happy accidents, they contrive to live, — they live on, making no sign, and, dying, leave, for good, no mark behind them. But it is not only a constitutional or acquired pro- pensity to indolence, — it is sometimes a theory of life deliberately adopted, which deems nothing worth contending for ; and so some, adhering to a theory, pass through the whole period of existence, doing nothing positively, but leaving the effects of a sad example. First religious views frequently give a gloomy coloring to the whole world. Human history then appears but a tale of sorrow or of crime. Human destiny appears before their minds in no other light than that of a terrific tragedy, and they feel themselves to be the sport of a resistless fate. They do nothing, or little, but obey the impulses of nature, which force them to some activity; and they float along like drift on the fluctuating current of CONFLICTS OF FAITH. 251 events, till by some eddy in the stream of time they are abruptly and for ever whirled from sight ; and these, like the others, leave no footprints to mark the path which they have trodden. These are the victims of a blind, unquestioning faith. But there is a soured scepticism which tends to the same result. Perceiving the abject superstition which controls so many, they become suspicious of all belief but be- lief in unbelief ; and this belief they accept so heart- ily, that they become victims of their own morbid- ness, as complete as those of unquestioning belief. They keep themselves in as much uneasiness, if not wretchedness, by reflecting on the ignorance and fol- lies of mankind around them, as the devotee who makes himself miserable in contemplating the woful destiny of the majority of human kind, and the un- certainty which, at times, he feels to hang around his own final fate. Effort, indeed, strenuous effort, is not always crowned with what is called success. But whatever the measure of success in seeking wealth, or knowledge, or power, it is the attendant of exer- tion, in the general order of events. This is the rule, the law of things, whatever exception there may be. A man strives through years, the best years of his life, the vigor of his days, for wealth, and he obtains wealth, though his passion is apt to increase as he acquires, and when some infirmity of body or of mind admonishes him, he begins to seek enjoyment of what he has procured. But then, per- haps, it is too late ; the door of enjoyment has been shut; he has lived the creature of habit, and the crea- ture of habit he must die. He has fought, but not a good fight; he has been conquered, — shamefully 252 CONFLICTS OF FAITH. defeated. It is so oftentimes in the strife for power. Not content with power, and no small power for good, he grasps and stretches forth for more, till he loses his balance; and when the highest point he longed for is just within his reach, he falls, worn, exhausted, by his protracted exertion. He has con- tended, but did not pause in time to conquer. It is so with knowledge, — even here, where too much knowledge can never be obtained. There is a knowledge which is profitable, and there is a search for knowledge which is only weariness ; for the com- bined experience of the world attests that mere speculation, which leaves out of sight our actual life, is not the knowledge which is power for good. That only which recognizes persons, facts, and things, — which studies these, and applies the fruits of that study as it goes, — a strife for knowledge guided by this rule, is alone successful. But nothing is truer, — concerning nothing can there be less dispute than this, — that every val- uable, every durable attainment, material or spirit- ual, intellectual or moral, is a conquest, — in some sense an achievement, the result of a good fight. We long for peace, but we must “ conquer a peace.” This phrase, as far as I remember, was brought into being by certain features of the war from which our own government has so recently emerged. However peculiar and problematical may have been its use, in connection with the events in which it originated, it is certainly a very significant and expressive phrase. Once, at the rebuilding of the temple, it is said, the Jews labored with the sword always at their side ; or rather the implement of labor in one hand, CONFLICTS OF FAITH. 253 and the sword in the other. This represents the at- titude morally and spiritually of every man aiming at excellence or advancement. We must conquer a peace. As society, as the world, is now, — as it has been, — it is true in every sense, negatively as well as positively, that no man liveth to himself. He is born, he grows up, he lives, a social being; and there are social influences for evil, no less than good, which render his quiescence impossible. Every man, if not sensible of, certainly experiences, social tendencies which repress and retard his moral growth, and which must be met and conquered, or they will con- quer. In every man’s field of life there are tares scattered, by the social organization of which he is a part, among the wheat which nature has sown with an abundant hand. And there is this differ- ence between the individual and society in such case. In society they may be allowed to grow to- gether till some certain harvest period, but in the individual there are certain tendencies which must be checked as they appear, — the one must be eradi- cated, or the other will be choked. There is a state of restlessness, of suspicion, of distrust, a stage or phase through which, probably, every active and inquiring mind must pass, or in which it must remain. In our day, more especially, we see change of personal position, of ecclesias- tical relations in the religious world. Of these two, the Roman Catholic and the Protestant divisions of Christendom, neither can boast of much re- pose. Many Protestants are passing over into the Church of Rome, and many in the latter are tak- ing their position among Protestants. The former 22 254 CONFLICTS OF FAITH. are seeking rest, the latter are seeking for sympathy in action. The mistake — if one may venture to suggest — the mistake on both sides appears to be, that they regard religion as a belief, instead of a life. Hence they are searching for the right something to be believed, instead of ascertaining the right thing to be done. Supposing Christianity to be a plan or system of faith to be believed, the Protestant is kept in a perpetual unrest ; for every one of twenty sects or churches prescribes to him a different system or faith for his belief. Each one of these is plausibly de- fended by its advocates, and all the others made to appear objectionable and deficient. In this dilemma the Protestant becomes vexed and wearied in spirit, and he breathes a prayer for relief from this warfare, — anything for repose. The Church of Rome offers him repose from thought, and all curious question- ings, assuming at once and entirely the burden of what is called his salvation, that is, his destiny here- after and eternally ; and he embraces the offer, and for a time at least he finds the repose for which he longed, in the splendid ritual and mysterious doc- trine of the Roman Catholic Church. He retires from the contest of life, satisfied that the fight of doctrines and sects is not a good fight ; he hastily con- cludes there is no good fight, and the heaven he seeks is peace, — relief from mental action. On the other hand, many nurtured in the Church of Rome are finding her monotonous rites and dead uniformity of verbal faith at variance more or less with the count- less activities, the material improvements, and the social changes of the enlightened world. Every new CONFLICTS OF FAITH. 255 leaf turned in the great volume of creation — nature below and nature above us — is discovering to the active mind the Infinite Power and Wisdom in new relations. The old words are insufficient ; the old forms, the old ceremonies, can no longer express all they see and feel of the Divine, of God. No old organization, they feel, can longer contain God’s greatness, nor constitute itself the only medium of divine development; they seek for greater scope for these longings, — for unbounded freedom to their intellectual activities; and, hoping for sympathy in their spiritual recognitions, they fly from the Romish Church into the unfettered air, which stirs the ever- moving sea of Protestantism, trusting, unhappily, like the others, to find some system of belief answer- ing more directly to their special wants. These secessions from Protestantism on the one side, and from Romanism on the other, direct our attention to the two grand classes into which all the intelligent of this country and age may be divided ; namely, those who, as St. Paul styles it, fight the good fight, and those who fight, but do not fight the good fight. Than mental tranquillity, peace of mind, there is nothing more desirable ; but between intel- lectual tranquillity and intellectual death, between peace of mind and mental deadness, there is an immeasurable difference. Pray without ceasing, Re- joice evermore, Be diligent in business, — these are Christian injunctions, all implying incessant activity. Mental inaction is mental death, and to seek rest from thought is to seek to be a living dead man. Such a rest may be termed faith, but it is a faith which stands, or rather waits, ready to worship every Deity 256 CONFLICTS OF FAITH. which may exalt itself. Every beast and creeping thing, and every degrading object, which possesses, or seems to possess power, may command the homage of such a faith. There is another faith, distinct from this, a living and active faith, which never wearies. Regarding the highest knowledge yet attained by man as but the alphabet of truth yet uncomprehended, the truly enlightened and hopeful spirit seeks no rest from thought, no final stage or stopping-place, but finds the truest tranquillity in believing that the appar- ent imperfections of creation round it are not real and inherent, but the evidences of our feeble facul- ties, our obtuseness of perception, our narrowness of vision. This mind finds rational repose in a firm faith, that even on earth, even in this mortal or mate- rial life of man, there will yet be developed an extent of knowledge, boundless compared with that which the wisest living have yet acquired. This faith is widely different from that contracted faith which builds itself upon some point, and then regards itself as the centre of all truth, and bemoans the darkness and wickedness of the world, which prevents all the moral elements of earth from combining and crys- tallizing round this narrow point. The one leads to despondency and scepticism. For, waiting long, and calling loudly, and praying earnestly, that all men may come and see its glory, and recognize its authority, this immutable and unprogressive belief, finding the world’s ears closed, and the world’s eyes shut, falls into a gloomy despondency. Never doubt- ing of its own divinity, never imagining that the fault or imperfection may lie within itself, it comes CONFLICTS OF FAITH. 257 to do nothing but lament the desperate condition and woful destiny of a world now lying in wicked- ness, and going down to a more miserable and en- during fate. Or, what is perhaps equally sad, it begins to distrust itself; it continues to doubt; it per- ceives itself in error, and, seeing no fair and reason- able path of safety but retracing directly its own steps, it reviews the mistakes and follies of its own career at every stage, and ultimately contracts a pro- pensity to suspicion, which believes nothing satis- factorily, examines nothing impartially, concludes on nothing deliberately. One by one it shakes off every tender and hallowed association, and comes at last to believe that all belief is weakness, that all men are fools, and all the world’s wisdom is folly, and lives without hope and without God ; or rather makes itself a God, becomes its own deity, its own altar, and its own worshipper. Both these condi- tions are the legitimate result of a narrow, unchang- ing, unadvancing faith, which finds in a creed a rest, a cessation of active thought. The victims of this gloomy superstition, and those of this soured scep- ticism, meet each other on the common ground of unhappiness in themselves and despair of mankind. Theirs has not been a good fight. See the sad cir- cumstances under which superstition and scepticism meet. When the hour of bereavement or the mes- sage of death arrives, the imbittered sceptic, who had unhappily been led to view the best of his fel- low-men with contempt for their ignorance, shuts his eyes for the last time, without one gratifying hope for the coming time of earth ; for all is chance or fate, and what chance has not done in time past, 22 * 258 CONFLICTS OF FAITH. there is no ground for expecting chance to do in time to come. When the same hour comes to the victim of superstition, he looks down shivering into the cold grave, bewailing the fearful doom of a lost world ; and even the visions of celestial glory in re- serve for him are shaded by the smoke of torment and groans of suffering which appear to him to come up from the woful abodes of his own lost relatives and friends, among the eternally damned. These are no mere fancy pictures. The closing scenes in many a life too painfully realize them in their worst features. But there is another faith, as we have seen. This faith leads neither to sad superstition nor bitter scep- ticism. In local indifference, in temporary disap- pointment, it finds only occasion for renewed and more persevering exertion. In the moral contest with constantly opposing influences, it does not lay down its arms, deciding that there is nothing worth fighting for, but continues to toil and hope, finding in the exercise itself an unceasing enjoyment, and reaping, as the proper fruit, a richer harvest of fair and well-founded hopes. This striver in life’s con- flict finds some meaning in that poetic idea which describes “ The web of life as mingled yarn, Good and ill together : our virtues would be Proud if our faults whipped them not, and our Crimes would despair, if they were not Cherished by our virtues.” He who expects to fight a good fight, expects to live ever with his armor on. Mere bodily repose, or mere mental rest, in a defined and immutable belief, CONFLICTS OF FAITH. 259 is what he neither finds nor searches for. He finds the very aliment of life, the mind’s true tranquillity, in constant activity for good, in ceaseless aspira- tion toward enlarging knowledge and loftier moral heights. In time, this indeed becomes the rule and habit of his existence. His opposition to what is unworthy and inimical to justice and to generosity becomes natural and habitual. The atmosphere in which he breathes purifies itself from the element of storms, and with an active fortitude he moves on, and hopes on, in ceaseless conflict, yet increasing ease, inspiring a serener air each day ; and as he pass- es out through the tomb into that other now unseen portion of the life eternal, he looks back as he closes the door of the grave behind him, and the last words left floating on the mortal air are these of Paul : “ I have fought a good fight,” — “I am ready to de- part.” It is thus we should all “take the instant by the forward top,” for it is true that “ We are old, and on our quickest steps The inaudible and noiseless foot of time Steals before we can complete them.” Of these two, the one who fights awhile, but sur- renders in the conflict, concluding that there is noth- ing worth contending for, and the other who fights on to the very end, and passes from the scene with the reflection that he has fought a good fight, the Roman Catholic Church and the Unitarian Catholic Church will long continue the respective symbols. The one proposes relief from mental effort, and a dreamy, un progressive rest of unquestioning faith, deeming the earth nothing more than a place of penitence, and all the world’s events as trials or 260 CONFLICTS OF FAITH. temptations, to be left out of sight in view of the repose of the paradise which the Church promises. The other proposes constant inquiry and indefatiga- ble action. The weapons of moral conflict are to be kept bright by continual use. It recognizes the universal law by which nature imposes the necessity for effort, as the invariable condition of knowledge and peace and life itself. It sees that God has or- dained that man shall plant for the fruit, and sow for the harvest, and dig for the mineral, and dili- gently observe to read the language of the varied world around and the starry skies above him, and that man is thus to labor as he goes, and find rest in his labor, making earth but a vestibule or an ante- room of heaven. Such, on the one hand, is the Roman Church Catholic, and such, on the other hand, is the Liberal United Church Catholic. In the one or the other will each man find his place. There is no neutral ground, nor any consistent stopping-place between. Those tossed by sectarian disputes, confused and troubled and seeking an outward or a nominal rest, will embrace the refuge which the Romish Church offers them. Those who regard the highest knowl- edge yet attained as only rudimental compared with that still to be discovered, and who find in the pur- suit of wisdom their real enjoyment, — who find true peace in constant progress, — will take their place in the Unitarian Catholic Church, and will there fight, and fight on to the end of life the good fight, seeking and desiring no rest but the rest which arises from a knowledge of improvement, a sense of constant progress. CONFLICTS OF FAITH. 261 Let us be careful never to lose courage, but keep on our journey, each day of life turning over some new page of truth for our study, and of beauty for our admiration, rejoicing to drink at new fountains, from time to time discovered. As we advance, find- ing strength in our exercise, and health in our toil, and tranquillity in duty, and this life now itself a joy, whatever joy in the unseen life may follow this. Such are the conflicts of faith in the Church, and such are the conflicts of faith in the soul’s life. Through storm to calm ! and though his thunder-car The rumbling tempest drive through earth and sky. Good cheer ! good cheer ! that elemental war Tells that a blessed healing hour is nigh. Through strife to peace ! and though with bristling front A thousand frightful deaths encompass thee, Good cheer ! good cheer ! brave thou the battle’s brunt For the peace march and song of victory. Through death to life ! and through this vale of tears, And through this thistle-field of life, ascend To the great home, in that world whose years Of bliss unfading, cloudless, know no end. DISCOURSE XVIII. FUTURE LIFE.— IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. IF A MAN DIE, SHALL HE LIVE AGAIN? — Job xiv. 14. This inquiry, regarding it as a direct question separate from its context, and from any probable opinions of the Hebrew author in whose writing it is found, connects itself with all which is important in human action. It involves the great question of the design of man’s existence. What is the grand object of human exertion? What are the truest motives and incitements to human effort? For what does man live? These are the momentous questions which are suggested to all reflecting minds by these words from the Hebrew Scriptures. The inquiry associates itself with the profoundest investigations which have ever engaged the human understanding, and with the strangest theories which have ever been the fruit of human imagination. Among every people who have made any advance in the arts of civilized life, wherever the intellect has been active and thought has been encouraged, the future, the unseen, has been a problem which the FUTURE LIFE. 263 first and ablest minds have been solicitous to solve. It has lost none of its interest to this day. Not only have the devotees of every religion, Pagan, Moslem, Hebrew, and Christian, had their theories, but every sect almost of every religion has had its peculiar creed ; and even now among Christians in our most enlightened communities scarcely two minds can be found to coincide in their views of what we call the future life, — though probably a large majority of all, within churches and without, have never seriously questioned or permitted themselves to entertain a doubt as to the existence of that portion of our na- ture which we call the soul, beyond the event which we call death. But the innumerable variations of opinion regarding the condition of the unseen, or, as we are all accustomed to express it, spiritual world, bear conclusive witness to the mystery in which all that relates to the future is involved. Among the large majority of Christians, the only point of agree- ment which appears as to the future beyond death is that it is a state of rewards and punishments, while as to the nature and duration of either those rewards or punishments there appears scarcely to be anything which can be called a uniform or general belief. Among the minority, a considerable body of Christians make it a chief article of faith that the future beyond death is not even a state of rewards and punishments, they believing that the New Tes- tament Scripture clearly teaches the strict confine- ment of all that is meant by rewards and punish- ments to this present mortal life, and that the future is a state exclusively of everlasting happiness to all human souls and all ranks of beings. So that there 264 FUTURE LIFE. is but this one point concerning which there appears to be anything like a universal agreement among professed Christians, namely, that there is an exist- ence of the human soul after the change called death. Still even this does not imply that all Christians agree in believing in the necessary immortality of the soul, that is to say, the eternal existence of the soul in the future. There are some Christians believing the future to be a state of retribution, or rewards and punishments, who also believe that the souls of those who reach a certain point of sinful- ness or wilful wrong in this life, and dying so, having no power of recovery from a downward and destructive tendency, continue in the future to lose their moral power, or suffer the loss of one faculty after another, till finally there is no more to lose, and the soul has literally perished, lost all con- scious existence, being no more now than before they began to be. This they think justice requires, as they can conceive of nothing to be gained either to God or to the souls themselves, no reasonable end to be accomplished, in preserving souls in an eternal existence of suffering or punishment, while they conceive that there may be some justice and some reason in leaving souls in that life to work out their own literal and complete destruction, even as in this mortal life men are left free to accomplish if they will the literal destruction of their bodily or organic life. While urtable myself to adopt this view, I cannot hesitate to say that in the New Tes- tament Scripture there is much more to warrant this opinion, than to sustain the common doctrine of in- finite arbitrary and eternal misery. For while nei- FUTURE LIFE. 265 ther of these phrases, eternal happiness or eternal misery, is found at all in Scripture, the New Testa- ment abounds in the antitheses or contrasting terms, life and death, live and destroy, live and perish, life and destruction. But the signification of these various terms is a mere question of interpretation or verbal criticism, which it is not the purpose of this Discourse to consider. We return to the simple inquiry, If a man die, shall he live again ? May the principle or element we call the soul be immortal ? Can it have a con- scious existence, after dissolution with the decaying body ? In view of the great difference of sentiment among nominal Christians and among all professed believers in a future state, as to the object, nature, or conditions of that state, it is not altogether a matter of surprise, that some of the most honest and earnest minds, applying to the subject some at least imperfect analogies, have been led to doubt, and sometimes to lose every reason and ground for be- lief in, any conscious existence beyond the moment of mortal dissolution. They can find no evidence sufficient to support a faith in any future life. It is an easy matter to talk of wicked unbelief, and to indulge in offensive language, to employ such terms as heretic, sceptic, infidel, and similar opprobrious epithets. But I have never in all my observation of discussion and controversy known the first in- stance in which any man has been converted from his opinions, or convinced of other views, by the force of such epithets as these. It is not diffi- cult to talk of zeal for the faith, but the value of a faith is proved by its fruits, and that is a mis- 23 266 FUTURE LIFE. taken zeal, if not a defective faith, which requires or justifies abuse or unkindness towards our fellow- man. St. Paul’s rule for himself is applicable to all of us : “ All faith and knowledge of all mysteries without charity are nothing. Of these three, faith, hope, charity, the greatest is charity .” Long since I have decided, as a rule for my own guidance, that any belief which is important enough to be sincerely entertained by any reasonable and inquiring human mind, is too important for contempt, and is impor- tant enough at least for my candid and careful con- sideration. Between discussion and denunciation, between kind controversy and coarse condemna- tion, there is a wide difference ; may I never be so unfortunate as to lose sight of the distinction. In approaching this momentous subject, however, I in- dulge in no presumptuous expectation that I can add much, if anything, to the amount of evidence or distinctness of thought which has been elicited in its investigation by the most thoughtful and inquiring minds among the human family. This is one of a few subjects on which I have long and often meditated, but have felt like post- poning their public discussion to some period of less urgent professional duty, when greater leisure would afford the opportunity of devoting to them the close attention and thorough study to which their importance justly entitles them. But feeling the subject press upon my mind, since the circum- stances of a recent interesting and impressive occa- sion in my professional experience, I approach it now, even at the hazard of imperfect expression and immaturity of thought. I have attended the last FUTURE LIFE. 267 hours and closing scene in the life of one who, after long thought and as much investigation as his op- portunities and attainments would permit, deliber- ately and sincerely adopted the belief that the cir- cumstance of bodily death is the last, the final scene in the brief drama of man’s existence, and who, firm in that belief, expired as calmly as a child falls into sleep. Seeing him more perfectly in possession of all his faculties than any person I had ever seen in a dying hour, more than ready to converse with me, I reminded him of some of our previous conversations, and within a few minutes of his departure I request- ed him, if his views were entirely clear upon the subject, now that he was in full view of death, with but a few seconds more to breathe, to say whether his views and feelings had undergone any change. With a feeble but distinct voice he reaffirmed his pe- culiar faith. He said : “ My mind is perfectly clear on that subject. I believe there is no more after death, — it is the end. I fear nothing, have no anxiety, and nothing to regret ; but I would like to live yet for them,” — as he pointed towards the adjoining room, where he heard the sobs of his weeping family. He then called the members of his family to his side, and with a few words of appropriate advice, and a desire that they would remember him, bade them a clear and affectionate farewell ; and after a few minutes more of slow breathing there was silence, and I closed the motionless eyelids which were never more to open, and soon after performed the last solemn rites over the remains of the departed. Greater consciousness and more serenity of mind in a dying hour I have never witnessed. Besides this, 268 FUTURE LIFE. within the range of my acquaintance in this com- munity there are several persons of intelligence and high respectability, as well as great moral worth, and some of them members of established churches which regard themselves as evangelical and orthodox, who in private conversations with me frankly com- municate their inability to believe in the existence of the soul after physical death. They either believe that death terminates for ever all conscious being, both of soul and body, or they see nothing to sus- tain a different belief. The consideration of the subject, therefore, is not the suggestion of an idle and unmeaning curiosity. It is not merely to speculate upon a point concerning which there is no real diversity of sentiment. The facts now mentioned in- vest the question with a deep and peculiar interest. It would be most unreasonable to suppose that any virtuous person of well-informed and reflecting mind could embrace this view of the soul’s extinc- tion merely from blind, wilful unbelief, or as a cloak to cover selfish and wicked aims. Yet such has frequently been the assumption of those who defend man’s spiritual immortality. Even Dr. Young, in his well-known “ Night Thoughts,” stoops to this unsound and unworthy argument against the be- liever in the spirit’s death ; as if disputing a man’s sincerity, and denying his virtuous purposes, could convert him to a belief in immortality. He says : — “ Rewards and punishments make God adored, And hopes and fears give Conscience all her power. As in the dying parent dies the child, Virtue with Immortality expires. Who tells me he denies his soul ’s immortal, Whate’er his boast, has told me he *s a knave ; FUTURE LIFE. 269 His duty ’t is to love himself alone, Nor care, though mankind perish, if he smiles. Who thinks erelong the man shall wholly die, Is dead already ; naught but brute survives.” Such assertion as this may do for creeds, or it may do for poetry, but we must doubt all testimony, dis- trust our very senses, and deny the plainest facts, if we admit the truth of such unqualified assumption. Such defence of truth is an injury to truth ; for we see men whose sincerity and integrity we cannot question, any more than we can question our own integrity, who yet are unable to find a weight of evidence sufficient to convince them of the spirit’s immortality ; and these are men who are not only willing, but anxious, to believe it, and who are rest- less and persevering in pursuit of testimony to es- tablish what they really desire to be true. Is there a future eternity of suffering to be avoided? It certainly is as much the interest of one man as another to escape such a calamity. Is there a fu- ture eternity of happiness to be secured ? It certainly is no less the interest of one than of another to se- cure such an endless happiness. So that the charge of wilful unbelief, as an excuse for mere selfish en- joyment, manifestly defeats itself; for the lowest motive of self-interest would induce an unprincipled man to believe or profess belief in a future existence, if by such belief or profession, or desire to believe, he could escape so great an evil and secure so great a blessing. I would prefer, therefore, to prepare the mind of any reasonable and virtuous man for a can- did, dispassionate, and unprejudiced consideration of the question, by conceding freely to him all the sincerity, honor, and integrity which I would claim 23 * 270 FUTURE LIFE. for myself, in entertaining a very different opinion. It becomes me also to be equally candid in admit- ting all that is known respecting the opinions which have prevailed on this question, at different ages and among different nations of the world. I am well aware that passages from the Old Tes- tament writings are frequently quoted, both in sup- port of retributions in a future life and of unlimited happiness in that life. I always feel some surprise in seeing or hearing this done, by any theologian. There is, as far as I have been able to ascertain, very little diversity in the views of Biblical scholars of all ages and of every church, Protestant and Roman Catholic, as to the opinions of the ancient Hebrews, and especially of the several writers of the Old Tes- tament. Dr. Jahn, the most eminent of Roman Catholic critics, speaking of this book of Job, says : “ The sentiment of Job, who is declared by the Deity to have spoken more than the others, was the senti- ment of the author, — that good men might be af- flicted to the end of life, and that, for inscrutable but still equitable causes, God had so determined. It is therefore evident that the author was on the point of perceiving the doctrine of future rewards and punish- ments; but his views did not penetrate quite so far, as neither did the authors of the Psalms, who discuss the same subject.” Dr. Turner, of the Episcopal Church of this country, speaking of a much disputed text (xix. 25) in this book of Job, u I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth,” agrees with others in translat- ing it as in reply to the false charges of his friends, who pronounced him a wicked man punished for his FUTURE LIFE. 271 sins. Job answers : “ I know that my vindicator lives, and ultimately will stand upon the earth ; and though my skin and body are now wasting away, my flesh shall yet be restored, and I shall see God (or the goodness of God), in sound health.” Dr. Turner says, that, u according to the usages of lan- guage and the intention of the author, this text can- not be explained in reference to the resurrection of the dead ; but it expresses Job’s wish and hope that God would bear testimony to his innocence in the present life. It is indeed very possible that Job in- tended nothing more than that God would interfere to rescue him from the accusations of his calumnia- tors, and by some visible manifestation vindicate the character of his servant.” Such is the view of the Episcopalian Dr. Turner. The Roman Catholic Dr. Jahn, alluding to a passage in the book of Wis- dom, — a book rejected by the Protestants, but in the Roman Catholic version, — says : “ Wisdom is rec- ommended to all, especially to kings, in order that they may labor to acquire it with the more earnest- ness, in proportion to the facility of securing it, and to the abundance of the recompense with which it rewards those who seek it. Even if they should happen to be oppressed with adversity in the present life, yet in the future, wisdom will render them hap- py, while, on the contrary, foolish and wicked men are miserable now, and will be more so hereafter. This is the first time that a life of happiness or misery is expressly mentioned.” It is unnecessary to multiply citations. It is obvious that none of the Old Testament writers refer directly to retribution in another life, except this apocryphal writer, who 272 FUTURE LIFE. wrote at a very late period, probably about or very near the time of Jesus, a pbriod at which the opin- ions of the Jews had undergone much change, in many respects. The view of Biblical critics generally is this, — that a large class of the ancient Hebrews believed in the existence of spirits of the departed, in Sheol, or the under-world, but not in a state of reward or of punishment, neither misery nor happiness, but simply existence in silence and darkness for ever, ap- proaching very near to annihilation ; while the Sad- ducees, a large sect, prominent, as the New Testa- ment shows, even as late as in the time of Jesus, were distinguished by their belief that there is no existence whatever beyond the tomb, that the soul and body die together, and that there is no other spiritual being, good or bad, than God himself. As to the several Old Testament writers, it is the common opinion of theological scholars, that while some of them refer to the existence of spirits in Sheol, or the under-world, none of them, from Moses to Malachi, refer to a future life of retribution, or of rewards or punishments; that none of them allude to such future conditions as a motive to right or warning from wrong in the present world, but base their appeals and exhortations to a right life entirely upon the temporal good or evil consequences of hu- man action. Among the ancient Greeks, Persians, and Ro- mans, many of the ablest minds, as Socrates, Plato, Zoroaster, Cicero, and Cato, had a belief in the continued existence of the soul, a conscious exist- ence of man beyond death, as clear and satisfactory as that of many now among Christians. FUTURE LIFE. 273 That St. Paul, who is the principal writer of the New Testament, believed and taught the continued existence of man’s spiritual nature, and the immortal- ity of that spiritual nature, there can be no doubt whatever. But the various and conflicting interpreta- tions of St. Paul’s writings, and the theories thence inferred as to the conditions and nature of that future life, have occasioned, in many minds, a doubt as to St. Paul’s correctness in teaching any future existence. This tendency is not diminished by the fact, that there are but a few passages in all that is recorded as the teachings of Jesus himself, which are interpreted as referring to the future existence of man ; besides the fact that none of the Gospel records of the resurrec- tion and subsequent completion of the career of Jesus mention anything said by him with reference to the nature of that unseen condition of the spirit. These facts, and especially thi& one, that as to the nature of the invisible life, the locality and condition of spirits, though he was a traveller returned from that myste- rious bourne, yet not a single recorded syllable is left, as uttered by Jesus, subsequent to his resurrection, which adds anything whatever to the general sum of human knowledge, nothing being established by the resurrection beyond this, namely, that man may or shall continue to exist after the circumstance of death, — all these combine to leave some minds still in se- rious doubt of any existence of the soul beyond the event of dissolution. The inquiry therefore remains to many in all its magnitude, and mystery, and so- lemnity, u If a man die, shall he live again ? ” Those who earnestly insist upon the inquiry, not regarding the New Testament writings as necessa- 274 FUTURE LIFE. rily conclusive evidence on their own behalf, must have the question answered, as it best can be, by the voice of nature, of reason, and experience. In this light, therefore, entirely apart from Scripture, I pro- pose to consider it. The undiminished and profound interest with which the v question is still propounded, by earnest searchers for every ray of truth, entitles it to our very gravest consideration. Human aspirations now are similar to human aspirations in the days of Job. The same sun which illumined earth in the time of Zoroaster or the Persian Magi, now illumines the same earth on which we tread. The same stars which shone in silence over the birthplace of Jesus, shine as silently upon the birthplace of the child which begins its breathing life to-day. Down in the same cold, noise- less bed which received the remains of the remotest generations, we lay the inanimate remains of the wise or great, the low or high, the infant or the sage, who ceases to move among us now. The variations of human experience are the same as in long-past centuries. The last utterance of one before the lamp of life expires is a dread apprehen- sion of an unspeakably awful calamity, in the un- seen sphere he is approaching. The last accents of another, as he stands upon the utmost verge of life, express an unbounded trust in felicities unutterable in a spirit-world of immortality. The last calm as- surance of another is that he feels himself passing away into the undisturbed repose of a dreamless and everlasting sleep. The curtain drops, and our mortal vision cannot pierce it, to follow any one of them, to test the truthfulness of his convictions or FUTURE LIFE. 275 the reality of his hopes. It only remains for us to interpret the indications which surround us in our present complex life. We can pursue the inquiry, observing the analogy of life, and endeavoring to determine what message nature and conscience bring to us, bearing on its page the stamp of reason, and in its onward life we may yet, in reasonable faith, see “ The spirit, trace its rising tract, Even where the farthest heaven had birth ; Its eye shall roll, through chaos, back, Before creation peopled earth.” Each one, with the eye of reasonable trust, may see enough to say, with a joyful and holy assurance, I die, but it is only a part, not all of me, which dies. “ I die not all, for a myriad things That will live and think and do Have felt my life in its secret springs, And will feel it their being through. “ We die not all : we shall live on earth In the words and deeds of the past, And death to the soul is a glorious birth, Where no seeds of decay are cast.” Mathematical demonstration cannot be expected. I cannot prove to you the existence of God. I can- not even prove to you my own present existence, and not any more can I prove the soul’s continued existence after dissolution. But the closer the ex- amination, the clearer does it seem to me that each one of these propositions — the existence of God, the soul’s existence now, and its continued existence beyond the change of death — is equally susceptible of illustration or proof, amounting to a moral cer- tainty, — a certainty investing death with no dread, 276 FUTURE LIFE. and the grave with no gloom, but an impression which fills the mind with the serene vision of soft- ened splendors, — “ Like light through summer foliage, Shedding a glow of such mild hue, So warm and yet so shadowy too, As makes the very darkness there More beautiful than light elsewhere.” DISCOURSE XIX, FUTURE LIFE. — IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. IF A MAN DIE, SHALL HE LIVE AGAIN? — Job xiv. 14. “ Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can honor’s voice provoke the silent dust, Or flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death ? ” “ For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing, anxious being e’er resigned, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind 1 ” So instantaneous and complete is the transition at death from the known and seen to the unknown and unseen, from warm, intelligent life to cold, dull deadness, that no one can be entirely indifferent to the possibilities of the invisible. Though no testi- mony may be found sufficiently weighty and con- clusive to convince some minds of the reality of any existence beyond that which is seen and certain, yet no one can be supposed to leave the warm light of present being without casting one longing, lingering look behind. Aside from the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures, 24 278 FUTURE LIFE. we have no other resources of knowledge on this great subject than those common to the more enlightened among the ancients, the pages of nature, experience, and consciousness interpreted by the light of reason. We have found that Christian critics of every name appear to coincide in the opinion, that the Hebrew Scriptures furnish no explicit revelation, nor even any direct statement, as to the immortality of the human soul. We also have found that among the men who now inquire, in the spirit of the ancient Hebrew, “ If a man die, shall he live again ? ” there are those by whom the teachings of St. Paul and the New Testament writers are not regarded as dis- tinct, authoritative, or final. It is probably the nu- merous and conflicting expositions of the Christian writings which have induced many to lay the New Testament entirely aside, as a witness on this ques- tion of futurity ; and it is neither just, manly, nor philosophical to turn away from such, bestowing on them the ungracious epithet of sceptic or unbeliever. This will neither convert them, nor establish truth. It was in no such scornful spirit that Paul reasoned with Felix, proving all things, and holding fast the good. As' we are not permitted by the objector to cite the New Testament as conclusive authority, the question obviously becomes one of probabilities. Are the probabilities opposing greater than the probabilities favoring a continued existence of man’s spiritual nature ? One of the objections urged with greatest force is the apparent decay of mind simultaneously with the decay of body, or sometimes previous to physical decay. To say the most of this, it is only a pre- FUTURE LIFE. 279 sumptive argument. It is true that instances occur in which each mental power appears to decline, suc- cessively, before there is much physical declension. But instances of the reverse are probably more fre- quent, — each bodily organ weakening, till, in a state of almost utter helplessness, the mind seems preter- naturally vivid, sound, and active, as in most perfect health. One limb after another, foot, hand, arm, may be amputated, and even eyesight lost, nothing, perhaps, but the diseased trunk and mutilated head remaining, and still the mental powers all appear undiminished, if not invigorated. The simultaneous decay of mind and body, therefore, in a minority, or, if it were so, even in a majority of cases, could be nothing like evidence against the continued exist- ence of the spiritual element or essence. Nothing but a universal occurrence of the mutual decline of bodily and mental powers could be anything like proof of the mind’s destruction. The probabilities are all the other way. Moreover, the frequent re- covery of mental power after the restoration of dis- ordered bodily organs, is a strong presumption in favor of the idea, that to our feeble perceptions, the mind expressing itself only through the agency of visible bodily organs, the derangement of those bodily organs renders them more or less unsuited to the uses of the mind, and the mind only ceases to employ them, — the mind still existing in undimin- ished force.' The body may be only the instrument of wonderful and complicated structure, through which the spirit expresses itself to our present im- perfect and limited observation. Therefore, as by disease or violence one bodily organ after another is 280 FUTURE LIFE. disordered, the spirit ceases to employ its agency, but acts by invisible agencies, while, a general de- rangement and debility of the physical system ren- dering it wholly unlit for the agency of mind, the mind withdraws from it entirely ; and this is what we call death. We detect some intimations of this relative con- nection of mind and body in our sleeping life. The body becomes passive, powerless, unconscious of the presence of any object, good or evil, while at the same moment, in a dream-life, the mind is active still as ever, if not even more vivid than when ex- pressing itself through the bodily organs. When the physical lethargy wears off, and the body re- sumes its activity, one mental power, that of mem- ory, still preserves and reports the dream-life, and we recall the fair skies, and beautiful lands, and lovely scenes, and rich enjoyments, which were ours in a brief hour of that life, — in which we traversed continents, and crossed oceans, and saw myriads of strangers, and heard myriads of voices, from storms and thunders to the soft melody of entrancing mu- sic. As to the enjoyment this affords, it is as much a real part of our experience as the most obvious realities in the routine of our daily lives. Do not these phenomena of our sleeping life afford us some presumption in favor of the idea, that the mind is not necessarily dependent on the use of bodily organs, that the mind’s ceasing to express it- self through parts of the physical system is no evi- dence of the mind’s destruction, and that the cessa- tion of life in the body does not prove the cessation of the mind’s or soul’s existence ? FUTURE LIFE. 281 This argument from the integrity of mind, despite the feebleness of body, was not forgotten as I re- cently sat by the dying man to whom I before re- ferred, who saw nothing but the depths of eternal sleep from the verge of mortality. The clearness and soundness of his mind, a few minutes before the close of life, — when the hand could no longer raise itself to the parched lips, — almost induced me to ask him if the argument had no weight in his mind; but I forbore. I feared the result of the effort it might give him to reply, and I felt that it was useless to attempt to disturb the repose which he had just ex- pressed, in his most sincere conviction that the soul is mortal, as the body, and ceases all consciousness for ever. Another objection to the continued existence of the soul is the apparent fact of its growth and de- velopment coeval with the body. It begins with the body in infancy, says the objector, it grows and is cultivated with the growth of the body, and is so necessarily connected with it, that with the body it expires. This seems to me the only formidable ob- jection which is raised, and I admit that it is not without some force. Yet its force appears to be fully met by the comparative, the earthly immortality of the fruits or products of the mind. Is it possible that the mind creates that which is so infinitely superior to itself, as to survive it ages upon ages, indefinitely ? Is the creature of mind greater than the creative mind itself? See the sculptured marble, the splen- did and life-like painting, the immense and magnifi- cent monuments of architectural design, — have all these survived the spirit which created them, which 24 * 282 FUTURE LIFE. gave them their enduring form and beauty ? Here are the very thoughts of the wise and great come down to us through hundreds and thousands of years. Here this day on the written page are “ thoughts that breathe and words that burn,” from Caesar and Socrates, and Cicero and Plato, and Homer and Virgil, and Zoroaster and Confucius, come down to us from China and Persia, and Rome and Greece, by which we are moved to reflection, to action, to emotion, perhaps to tears. We enjoy a communion with them ; we feel that they speak to us, and to our living spiritual sight they are before us. We behold their forms, we hear their voices, we know their thoughts ; our hearts swell within us, and ages and centuries, and thousands of years, vanish away, like mist, before the divine magnetism of spiritual sympathy. There seems to be a transfusion of their spirits through the medium of the written page, and our hearts bow before them to do them reverence. And is it all a dream ? Are their very words and thoughts still here, almost eternal like the stars, and are they themselves in darkness and silence, dead and senseless as the dust of their decaying frames, which centuries since has floated in the “ viewless winds,” or been petrified in the deep mountain rock? The thought seems to in- volve impossibility. Xenophon might well say: “ When I consider the boundless activity of our minds, the remembrance of things past, our foresight of what is to come, — when I reflect on the noble discoveries and vast improvements by which those minds have advanced arts and sciences, — I am en- tirely persuaded, and out of all doubt, that a nature FUTURE LIFE. 283 which has in itself a fund of so many excellent things cannot possibly be mortal.” But may not this objection to the continued existence of the soul be converted into an argument in support of the spirit’s immortality? On the very principle of its development and growth, may death be anything more than an event in its progress, similar to a new birth into a larger life? This idea is vividly and beautifully expressed in the brief sonnet of Blanco White, which Coleridge is said to have pronounced “the most grandly conceived in the English lan- guage.” The words are these : — “ Mysterious Night ! when our first parent knew Thee, from report divine, and heard thy name, Did he not tremble for this lovely frame, This glorious canopy of light and blue? Yet, ’neath a curtain of translucent dew, Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, Hesperus with the host of heaven came, And lo ! creation widened in man’s view. Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed Within thy beams, O Sun ! or who could find, Whilst fly, and leaf, and insect stood revealed, That to such countless orbs thou mad’st us blind ? Why do we then shun death, with anxious strife ? If light can thus deceive, wherefore not life ? ” A most forcible reply this exquisite illustration offers to the objection, that we discern nothing, there is nothing positively seen by us, beyond the curtain which death drops between us and the spirits we have known and loved. Imagine a first-formed man, gazing in deep, unutterable delight upon the varied splendors of mountain, stream, field, forest, moving beast, and flying bird, — the pebble, the flower, the leaf, the insect, and a thousand beauties 284 FUTURE LIFE. which stood revealed to his own wondrous and won- dering eye, all canopied by the lovely deep blue heavens. How well might his visage change, and his frame tremble, as the revolving sphere for the first time rolled round towards darkness, and a heavy shadow gathered over all the countless forms of earth, robbing them of all their brilliancy and wrap- ping all in sombre blackness ! In awe, in agony, he might have thus soliloquized, “ And is this all? Is this the end ? A day so brilliant and so brief, and now silence, death, unbroken night! O mysterious existence! so tantalizing, so deceiving!” But even as he murmurs, lo ! a thousand sparkling lights break forth upon his upward gaze, and what he thought the loss of one world below was but the revelation of a myriad of worlds above. The glaring light, which had disclosed the minuteness of objects at his feet, had blinded him to the grandeur and majesty of innumerable spheres. Who could have thought that such darkness lay concealed within the bright beams of the noonday sun, dazzling the fee- ble eye, and excluding rays from a throng of greater and more distant orbs ! “ If light can thus deceive, wherefore not life ? ” Why with so much dread shun death ? May not this brief glare of life only hide from the spirit’s eye ten thousand greater glories, and death be only the vicissitude which shall widen creation in man’s view, disclosing to the liberated soul the grand re- alities now hidden from our imperfect, immature, and undeveloped spiritual powers, and while the de- caying frame sinks back to its kindred earth, the FUTURE LIFE. 285 immortal principle, the divine element, rise into the realm of an eternal progress ? We see how well said and true it is that “Man makes a death which nature never made, Then falls on the point of his own fancy, And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one.” Recent casualties on the great waters of our coun- try have been greatly destructive of human life. Now twenty, now a hundred, now three hundred, beings have been swept almost instantaneously from the midst of activity and health into silence and death, with the deep lake or the flowing stream for their last sepulchre.* In those hundreds of minds, what thoughts were cherished! In the minds of young and aged, the enlightened and the good, what plans, purposes, hopes, and aspirations were indulged ! What re- sources of knowledge, courage, purity, and love were there! Is it possible that all these resources, and virtues, and minds, perished in an hour for ever and entirely ? Alluding to a similar disaster some years since, (the burning of the Lexington on Long Island Sound, in 1840,) and having referred to some of the distinguished, enlightened, and worthy persons whose mortal career was finished there, a living au- thor asks, with force : “ Does any one believe that this freight of transcendent worth, all this sorrow, and thought, and hope, and moral greatness, and pure affection, was burnt and went out with flame and cotton smoke? Sooner would I believe that * Allusion is here made to the loss of the Atlantic on Lake Erie, the Franklin on the Mississippi, and the Henry Clay and the Reindeer on the Hudson. 286 FUTURE LIFE. the fire consumed the less everlasting stars! Such a galaxy of spiritual light and order and beauty is spread above the elements and their powers, and neither heat can scorch it, nor cold water drown. The bleak wind which swept in the morning over the black and heaving wreck, would moan in the ear of sympathy with the wail of a thousand survivors; but to the ear of wisdom and of faith would sound as the returning whisper and requiem of hope.” He is not then suggesting a mere fancy, he is not ex- pressing a groundless hope, who says that “the cor- poreal frame is but the mechanism for making thoughts and affections apparent, the signal-house with which God has covered us, the electric tele- graph by which quickest intimation flies abroad of the spiritual force within us. The instrument may be broken, the dial-plate effaced ; and though the hid- den artist can make no more signs, he may be rich as ever in the things signified. Fever may fire the pulses of the body, but wisdom and sanctity cannot sicken, be inflamed, and die.” Now, as a question of probabilities, let the candid and reflecting answer, if the probabilities are not largely against the simultaneous death of the hu- man body and the human soul, — against the de- struction of the mind of man. We see that among all people, civilized and sav- age, wheresoever we can reach the minds of the great body of the thinking class, there is an impres- sion more or less distinct of the capacity of man’s higher nature, his vital force or intangible powers, for a continued existence after the decay of the out- ward man. Pope justly describes the aspiration of the untaught native of our Western world : — FUTURE LIFE. 287 “ Lo, the poor Indian ! whose untutored mind Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind ; His soul proud science never taught to stray Far as the solar walk or Milky Way.; Yet, simple nature to his hope has given, Behind the cloud-topt hill, an humbler heaven ; Some safer world, in depth of woods embraced, Some happier island in the watery waste. To be, contents his natural desire; He asks no angel’s wings, no seraph’s fire ; But thinks, admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company.” This fancy of the untutored child of nature is only an intimation of the universal aspiration after a more complete and satisfactory existence than that which thus far in earth’s history has belonged to the mortal man. All admit that this desire for a higher and more enduring state is reasonable ; all admit that there is an imperfection or immaturity about this state, which renders a continued life de- sirable; and all admit that no natural impossibility of such futurity can be proved. It is only that some minds sincerely doubt; they seek conviction by more positive, if possible by con- clusive evidence. We have considered the objection based on the apparent decay of mind or soul at the same time with decay of body. But we see this more than overbalanced, in the fact that the mind, in more numerous instances, retains its vigor, and even develops and acquires, while the body obviously de- dines ; and even in the moments of dissolution, when the body is almost incapable of affording any expres- sion to the mind, every faculty remains full and sound till the very event of dissolution. We see it also answered in our dream-life, the most active 288 FUTURE LIFE. portion of the spirit’s being, while it does not em- ploy the body as its medium of expression, but by a faculty of soul the memory subsequently reports to the waking body the active experience of the spirit while the body slept. We have considered the ob- jection based on the growth and expansion of the spirit in connection with the body. But we see this overbalanced by the immortality of the work of mind. The acts, the thoughts, the very motives and impulses, of great and good minds who lived centuries and ages since, address us and move us now, awakening admiration of the great, abhorrence of the mean, eliciting our sympathies, and kindling us to action. Can the thoughts of mind survive the mind itself? Can the less produce the greater ? Can the creature survive the creator? Can the soul, which acts strongly for an hour and perishes for ever, produce effects which live for countless generations ? Is not the probability immensely greater, that the mind it- self, though no longer directly manifest through visible mediums, still exists, in a progressive life ? The ob- jection that we cannot follow the soul with our cor- poreal senses, and positively see some reality beyond death, loses all its force, when we see the analogy of nature, in which the brilliancy of sunlight, which discloses the minutiae of this one world around us, actually excludes from our view countless orbs, and more glorious worlds, in the remoter realms of the universe, — worlds grander than the sun itself. In this age and land of intellectual energy, when the expansiveness, progressiveness, and unlimited capacity of mind are so morally demonstrable, it does appear to me that no mind could well desire, FUTURE LIFE. 289 or seek to prove true, the simultaneous destruction of body and soul, — a proposition so at variance with memory, which carries up the past into the present, and imagination, which brings the future to the pres- ent, and reason, which dignifies and distinguishes man by standing in the present and reconciling with it both the future and the past. Would any desire to prove true the extinction of these powers of mind, if it were not that they feel oppressed by the severities of superstition, and feel it better the soul should die, than live the unreasonable future life defined by the unwarrantable dogmatism of church theologies ? Death is natural as birth, and should be as little the cause of apprehension or of dread. But men feel it were better the soul should die for ever, than live here in servile bondage to the perpetual u dread of something after death.” The great poet-master of our language represents this ap- prehensiveness in those well-remembered words : — “Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit, To bathe in fiery floods, or-to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprisoned in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world ; or to be worse than worst Of those that lawless and uncertain thoughts Imagine howling ! — ’t is too horrible ! The weariest and most loathed worldly life, That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.” Yes, to what we fear of death, and not to death itself. Are not these vague, unwarrantable theories, 25 290 FUTURE LIFE. — for they are all theories of what lies after death, — are not these the occasion of most or all the inclina- tion to disprove the immortality of the soul, the con- tinued existence of the human spirit? Thus far we have considered the question apart from all theologies and all church systems, and we shall continue so to consider it in the Discourse with which we will conclude the more direct reply to the inquiry, “ If a man die, shall he live again ? ” In that Discourse I will present an argument which to me appears direct and forcible, and with that argument I will submit this momentous subject to your heart and to your judgment. DISCOURSE XX. FUTURE LIFE. — IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. IF A MAN DIE, SHALL HE LIVE AGAIN? — Job xiv. 14. In considering, on former occasions, the prevail- ing doctrine of rewards and punishments, I have ob- jected to the doctrine of one unchangeable state of eternal happiness and one unchangeable state of eternal misery, that it cannot account for, and is irreconcilable with, the countless natural differences and moral inequalities of this mortal state. If this existence be preparatory to an immutable state of happiness and an immutable state of misery, into one or the other of which every soul at death must pass, then the clearest dictate of reason, and the only idea of strictest justice, imperatively require that all human beings should enter upon responsi- ble existence with precisely equal capacities and exactly similar opportunities, — that every soul, start- ing from the same point, might fairly and justly, in the exercise of moral freedom, entitle itself to the one condition of eternal enjoyment, or subject itself to the other condition of eternal suffering. Such a 292 FUTURE LIFE. theory of future rewards and punishments of neces- sity requires the suspension of the natural law which connects parent with child, and brings every one of a million of human souls into being under circum- stances so widely dissimilar. One begins responsi- ble action amid the comforts of affluence, another amid the discomforts of deepest poverty ; one amid intelligence and refinement, another amid rudeness and the grossest ignorance ; one with a system fair and healthy, another with a system deformed and diseased ; one with intellect vigorous and active, another with intellect feeble and sluggish ; one from the first moment to develop under the most salu- tary influences, another from the first moment to develop under the most pernicious examples. Now all these differences strict justice requires should be completely obviated by miraculous power, if every soul is to procure for itself one of two fixed and eter- nally contrasting conditions from the hour of death. Supposing two such unchangeable states, into one or the other of which all souls do actually pass, there is, manifestly, the most arbitrary, partial, and cruelly unjust arrangement in the present allotments of hu- man life ; for, as far as we can determine, no two of all the throngs of human souls begin their moral being with exactly equal capacities, and, in all re- spects, equally favorable opportunities. Moreover, as we see, an immense proportion of souls leave this life before reaching any sense of responsibility. Now, in either case, whether these innumerable in- fant souls are all removed to the eternally blessed or the eternally cursed condition, it is equally unjust to those who survive ; for either all should be brought FUTURE LIFE. 293 with equal powers to a period of responsible action or moral probation, or all should be transferred be- fore the period of moral agency to the same eternal state, and not a large proportion left to linger out this life, exposed to perils, to the danger of ruining themselves and insuring their own perdition. To me this appears an argument of resistless force against the doctrine, that this life is a probationary state for an unchangeable future heaven, or an un- changeable future hell. Such a final allotment of human souls leaves the endless vicissitudes of this present life involved in inexplicable disorder, and wrapped in impenetrable gloom. We can see nothing but an arbitrary power forcing us irresistibly into a confused, mysterious, often uncertain and miserable existence, and then, whether permitted to remain till childhood, or youth, or manhood, or old age, at once checking all the or- dinary laws of our being, and by a supernatural force, at death, transferring us at once into unspeak- able and endless bliss, or into unutterable and end- less woe. Now what I desire you to perceive is this, — that this argument from the varied allotments of our present life, against such an unchangeable destiny of death, operates with all its tremendous moral force against the doctrine of the destruction of the soul at the same time with the death of the body. Is death to the body death also to the soul ? Then this mortal life is our eternal life ; for it is all our life, and is as arbitrary, partial, and unjust, as the prevailing view of immutable happiness and im- mutable suffering hereafter. No soul has the choice 25 * 294 FUTURE LIFE. of its birthplace, or of the circumstances under which it begins its active being. No soul has choice of its parents, its companions, or the good or evil influences which first surround it, and give direction to its char- acter. Go to the back streets and narrow alleys in hundreds of our crowded cities, in the very centres of our Christian civilization, and there, in the polluted atmosphere of low cellars and filthy corners, you find hundreds of souls brought into being, who are born to poverty, ignorance, vice, crime, and moral dead- ness. The first dawnings of their intellect are watched by the degraded and corrupt, to poison and to brutalize. From infancy to childhood, to youth, to manhood, to old age, they pass, the victims of a thousand influences, which, like coils of a deadly ser- pent, tighten round them every moment. Fostered and unguided passion becomes habit, and forges chains stronger than steel around them, and with no helping hand to release them, no pure love to revive their fainting virtue, no kind voice to rekindle their expiring moral courage, or to point them to any bow of promise, or any star of hope, they die , — neglected in miserable dens, or amid diseased wrecks of hu- manity in crowded hospitals, or amid wretched crim- inals in dismal prisons. Now can it be, — is this death their end? Do these souls sink into the si- lence of eternal night ? Is the divine spark which struggled and flickered amidst noxious vapors here, eternally extinguished ? To conceive of this, — is it not to thrust God from the universe, and leave all to the incalculable chances of unintelligent fate, and blind, lawless forces of soulless matter ? How could a Supreme Intelligence of infinite per- FUTURE LIFE. 295 fection thus mock and tantalize and trifle with his creatures, such as we see they are, — making them half human, half divine, with bodies bound to earth, but spirits, like caged birds, yearning, struggling, to- wards the skies ? Would God implant boundless hopes, never to be realized, — awaken lofty aspira- tions, only to be mocked, > — enkindle glorious imag- inings, only to vanish like momentary shadows, — then, chain this complex and wondrous being down, to grovel amidst degradation, and creep amid cor- ruption through all the brief years of his existence, — and then, at last, with the iron heel of an omnipo- tent necessity, crush him into a handful of shape- less dust, and extinguish his consciousness for ever ? Would God permit this to be the destiny of thou- sands, while thousands more enter a bark of life which is laden with luxuries, and glide smoothly along the stream of time, fanned by breezes of sweet- est fragrance and charmed with the rich music of tenderest affections, and even at the close are sweetly deceived by illusory dreams of a still happier and immortal state to follow this ? One, whether in pain, disease, ignorance, and pollution, or in peace, health, refinement, and purity, living through a prolonged life of eighty, sixty, or forty years, — another only preserved through twenty, ten, or five years, — and many only for a day of breathing anguish, or of soft repose, before sinking back into the mysterious noth- ingness from which, for an instant, they were called, — are such the varied and strange beginnings, and is such the common and eternal end, of this living prin- ciple we call the human soul ? Then deep darkness settles down upon this world, leaving undiscoverable 296 FUTURE LIFE. any grand design, leaving us utterly unable to de- tect any intelligible purpose or beneficent tendency or universal law by which the vicissitudes of human experience may be explained, or by which the ap- parent contradictions of this actual life may be reasonably reconciled. Explicable or reconcilable these countless inequalities of earth must be, or man, of all other things, is the most deceived and self- deceiving, the most incomprehensible and unmean- ing thing in all the universe. Look back, then, through the confused lights of past history, look round upon the ceaseless vicissitudes of actual ex- perience, and look in upon your own profoundest thought, and discover, if you can, any explaining or reconciling principle, except that of the continued existence of the soul in a state of spiritual progres- sion. Is there any intimation of such universal law dis- coverable in the government of this life, of human action now ? The existence and operation of such a law is the very basis of all human calculation. The universal law of development and progression is the basis of all intelligent exertion and all mor- al action. In the order or the disorder of life, we see alike the operation of this law ; we see it rec- ognized and obeyed, or unrecognized and dis- obeyed, and in either case producing its natural effect, harmony or confusion, — when thwarted pro- ducing disorder, when regarded producing order. It is impartial in its operation, never suspended in favor of innocence and goodness, any more than of guilt and vice. This moral law is ceaseless in its action, and if obstructed long in its channel, like a FUTURE LIFE. 297 stream checked in its natural course, it rises and overflows and spreads destruction in its path, until it finds its operation natural, unrestrained. Whether by the ignorant or wilful perversion of this great moral law of life, physical death comes alike to the inno- cent ,child and the unjust man, to the youthful and to the aged, to the healthy and to the diseased; and when the misfortune has come and passed, we often see and understand how easily all could have been obviated, by observing the universal law of natural development and progression. Thus we see how necessarily, by the great divine law, child is con- nected with parent and parent with child, friend with friend, neighbor with neighbor, and each, even the humblest member, with the good or evil, the im- provement or injury, of a whole community. This universal law actually explains or accounts for all the inequalities and differences of human experience, as far as we can see its operation ; tSat is, till the death of the body, when our material organs of ob- servation, so limited in their power, can trace the operation of the mind’s development no farther. But can this explanation be enough ? It is only an explanation at all, on the supposition that the soul or vital principle of man continues to exist under the operation of the same grand law of development, until the soul, free from all outward pressures, can live, improve, and enjoy in the exercise of its free moral agency. Were death to the body also extinction to the soul, so far from any such inexorable law of develop- ment reconciling us, by its explanation, to the moral inequalities of actual life, we should be tempted to 298 FUTURE LIFE. charge injustice and cruelty on the source of a law so rigidly and invariably enforced. At the very best, we should be overwhelmed in mystery, amazement, and terror. Life being so short at longest, and oftentimes so full of sorrow, suffering, and anguish, every human sense of mercy and justice would impel us to ask, Why should God permit the opera- tion of a law which, unrestrained, must produce these sad effects ? Why not interfere miraculously, and with an arm of omnipotent power arrest the natural order of events, which brings human souls into this brief life under circumstances so widely different? Why should not the Supreme Sovereign declare, in the exercise of his infinite pleasure, that all souls, despite all natural laws, shall begin exist- ence with equal chances and capacities for freely securing improvement and happiness, through the whole of their brief being, which begins and ends on earth ? This 1 we should feel, and this every human sense of justice would expect, were it not that there is an almost universal natural conviction that death itself is only an event in a progressive spiritual life, in the continuance of which the immortal soul shall find room for improvement, unburdened by the in- evitable restraints of this exceedingly imperfect ma- terial condition. This general conviction of the con- tinued life of the human spirit is all that satisfac- torily explains to us the moral inequalities of earth, and it is all that can reasonably reconcile the appar- ent moral contradictions in our experience, — it is all that does reconcile us to the endurance of what we call life’s evils. On any other supposition, we never could feel reconciled to suffer daily and hourly as FUTURE LIFE. 299 we do, for the ignorance as well as for the wicked- ness of our fellow-men, whether only our fellow- citizens or our dearest friends. On any other sup- position, life might appear an enigma, and death a tragedy. The heavens might seem as if eternally hung in black, and earth as a revolving cemetery of open graves, into which at every step we were liable to fall and be buried out of sight for ever. Were the grave the end of all that is human, we reasonably feel that God would restrain the operation of natu- ral law, and forbid human freedom of volition and action, so as to equalize more the moral condition of man in his short career, to correct the errors and obviate the innumerable sorrowful disasters of our mortal experience. This argument for the immortality of soul, as you perceive, rests entirely upon the undeniable fact of the great moral disparities of human life, and not upon any feelings of repugnance which may be entertained at the idea of spiritual extinction. Such repugnance, as we plainly see, is far from being universal, and therefore can prove nothing as to the future. The argument rests on much higher ground than any supposed instinctive dislike to annihilation, namely, on the indubitable fact of the immense moral inequality of souls at their entrance upon moral agency. That, on the whole, there is in the present life more of good than evil, I most cheerfully admit. That, with a vast majority of human beings, real enjoyment and virtue and hope immensely pre- ponderate over vice, suffering, and fear, in their actual experience, is one of the most cherished principles of 300 FUTURE LIFE. my religious faith. Should, therefore, a divine reve- lation, well attested, direct and irresistible and un- ambiguous, be made to universal man, that the soul is mortal, and perishes at death, I could submit and thank the creative power, in humble and awful grat- itude for the blessings I now enjoy. Though I could neither explain nor reconcile the general phe- nomena of life, still I could serve, I could adore, the Supreme Power, whose ways were so utterly inscru- table to human eyes. I might look abroad on the fair face of nature, from the star-studded, glorious heavens to the richly variegated scenes of earth, and with an humble, if not a fearful gratitude, I might feel that “ For me kind Nature wakes her genial power, Suckles each herb and spreads out every flower ; For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings, For me, health gushes from a thousand springs, Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise, — My footstool earth, my canopy the skies.” This might be my language, as it might be my experience. Still, as I might look into the many wretched abodes of vice and ignorance and crime, and hear the wail of mourning, bleeding, crushed, and desponding, suffering hearts, I should feel that an awful, impenetrable shade of mystery enveloped human life; — so strangely different, so widely dif- ferent from beginning to the end, and all so brief! Multitudes diseased and deformed, in body and in mind, so hapless and so hopeless ; multitudes in idiocy, insanity, imbecility, groping their way through the blackness of a moral night, scarce knowing enough to bless or curse their own exist- ence, their pale flame of life so soon expiring, they FUTURE LIFE. 301 so soon stumbling into the abyss of eternal oblivion, to be for ever nothing! I should feel overwhelmed with solemn and unutterable wonder, half fearing every moment that the curtain of death would fall and extinguish my own dim light, and half hoping that some wonderful display of divine beneficence would lift the cloud of sorrow from the world, and leave all souls here, brief as their being might be, in a paradise of unbroken peace and purity and love. But without such undoubted and universal revela- tion as to the extinction of the soul at death, every emotion of my spirit, every voice of nature, every groan and wail of sorrow-stricken hearts, and every voice from a million graves of the departed, seem to unite in exclaiming, with one joyous sound, The soul lives ! the soul never dies ! but from the mo- ment of dissolution with the mortal frame lives in an eternally progressive life, of eternally expanding beauty, proportioned with the exactest precision to the actual capacities and moral improvement of each and every human spirit, as it lived and left this earth. Now, in closing, as I have not dogmatized, nor offered any creed upon this point as essential to your belief, — for the truth does not depend either upon your belief, or disbelief, or unbelief, — permit me to remind you that the adoption of any one opinion, as to the existence or non-existence of the soul in the unseen future, does not of necessity change in the smallest measure the terms of your true happi- ness now in this life, the reality of which you cannot, do not deny. Your faith, or want of faith, in a futurity, leaves 26 302 FUTURE LIFE. the terms of your true enjoyment here to-day un- changed and still unchangeable. An upright, man- ful career of fidelity to your moral sense, a life of truth, justice, and fraternal affection, ever have been, and are now, the indispensable terms of the soul’s dignity and happiness on earth, even though your soul should expire with the last breath of your de- caying mortal frame. Whatever else is true, this is all-important to our remembrance. The stability of the laws of life, confirmed by all revelation, human and divine, gives us the firmest assurance of this truth. Let us live then, that at its close we may look back and say this life has been a blessing, even on the supposition that no spirit should survive be- yond the tomb. By living well, doing justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly, extending our knowl- edge, quickening the intellect, expanding the heart, and taking the wide world into the embrace of our spiritual affections, — this life itself may be an in- expressible blessing, calling for our profoundest grat- itude. Thus shall we attest, and be more sensible of, the worth, the dignity, the divinity of our nature, whether or not we find a firm faith in the spirit’s immortality. But for the reasons which I have assigned, and without a most explicit and universal revelation to that effect, I cannot believe that death extinguishes the human soul. The design of human existence seems only to be discoverable ; the amaz- ing and countless disparities of earth seem only to be explicable ; and our minds can be reconciled to ex- isting vicissitudes only by regarding this as an eter- nal life, — to you begun when you began, to me begun when I began, and continuing on past all FUTURE LIFE. 303 that is now visible, death being a change, and but a change, of mere environments, — violence breaking, or ignorance deranging, or old age impairing, the material organism, in consequence of which the soul withdraws, and leaves the frame to return to its kindred elements, to recombine and perform the same office for yet other souls, bom to people im- mortality. “ When coldness wraps this suffering clay, O whither strays the immortal mind ? It cannot die, it cannot stay, But leaves its darkened dust behind. “ Eternal, boundless, undecayed, A thought unseen, but seeing all, All, all in earth or skies displayed, Shall it survey, shall it recall. “ Each fainter trace that memory holds, So darkly, of departed years, In one broad glance the soul beholds, And all that was, at once appears. “ Above all dread, hope, hate, or fear, It lives, all passionless and pure ; An age shall fleet like earthly year, Its years as moments shall endure. “ Away, away, without a wing, O’er all, through all, its thoughts shall fly, — A glorious and eternal thing, Forgetting what it was to die.” DISCOURSE XXI. REFLECTIONS ON DEATH, LIFE, AND FUTURITY. NOW IS THE ACCEPTED TIME. — 2 Cor. vi. 2. SHALL MORTAL MAN BE MORE JUST THAN GOD ? —