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REMAINS

OF THE LATE

EDWARD COPLESTON D.D.
BISHOP OF LLANDAFF

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REMAINS

OF THE LATE

EDWARD COPLESTON B.J).
BISHOP OF LLANDAFF

AN INTRODUCTION CONTAINING SOME
REMINISCENCES OF HIS LIFE

By RICHARD WHATELY D.D.
ARGHBISnOP OF DUBLIN

LONDON
JOHN W. PARKER AND SON WEST STRAND
1854

C79!
Ai 1^54

PREFACE.

'THE Common-Place-Book of my much valued friend,
the late Bishop Copleston, was, by his desire, trans
mitted to me as a bequest, with an evident design on
his part, that I should publish any portions of it that
I might consider likely to be generally interesting.
And I have since received from several of his sur
viving friends, and from others who knew him only
by reputation, intimations of their wish to the same
effect. While engaged in looking over this manuscript
with that view, it occurred to me that I had heard
several sermons of his which had appeared to me
fully equal in value to anything he had pubhshed.
And I have accordingly obtained, through the kind
ness of his surviving relatives, permission to subjoin
to the present Publication such of his Manuscript
Sermons as might appear to me the best adapted for
it. To these I have added two of the Theological
Lectures, which he wrote for the use of the students
of Oriel College. And I have prefixed some scattered

VI PREFACE.
reminiscences of his opinions on several important sub
jects, and of some transactions he was engaged in,
where these have been either omitted, or but slightly
noticed, in the Memoir already published, to which I
have thus furnished something of a supplement.
In this record it has been my object to set forth,
fully and fairly, what were his views on each point,
and the course adopted by him, both when we con
curred with each other, and in the few points whereon
we differed.
Our disagreements, where any did exist, were never
such as at all to impair mutual esteem and cordial
friendship ; and they never extended to fundamental
principles, for which I was, on most points, in a great
degree indebted to himself,* but related only to the
application of those principles to particular cases.
If I shall have been the means of making my de
ceased friend better known to the Public, it will be a
satisfaction to think that this can hardly fail to have
the effect of making him so much the more highly
appreciated.

See the Dedication to my Thoughts on Infant Bapti

CONTENTS.

Introduction :-

PAGE
Reminiscences of Bishop Copleston
1
Extracts from the Common-place-book :
Certainty .......
97
Division
100
Analysis
101
Average
102
Truth .
105
Tjanguage
106
Etymology
108
Words .
111
Ambiguity
117
Logic
119
Syllogism
121
Logomachy
123
Time .
123
Sabbath
124
VUl

CONTENTS.

Sermons : —
I. The, Promise of the Life that now is . . 127
II. The Better Things  142
III. I know that my Redeemer liveth . . 157
IV. Disappointed Expectations of the First Dis
ciples ...... 169
V. The Fuller Instruction of Apollos.— No. 1 . 182
VI. The Fuller Instruction of Apollos.— No. 2 . 197
VII. The Unjust Steward . . . .210
VIII. Christian Liberdity  220
IX. Judge not one another .... 231
X. The Lord's Long-Suffering . . . 245
XI. The Marriage in Cana . . . .256
XII. Curiosity Discouraged .... 268
XIII. The Sin of the Prophet of Judah . . 279

Lectures

I. The Christian Church
II. The Church of England

294306

INTRODUCTION.

EEMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON,
T'HOIJGH an interesting memoir of the late Bishop
Copleston has already appeared, I have thought it
not superfluous to prefix to the present volume of his
Eemains, a few scattered Reminiscences relative to
some matters which have been either omitted, or
very slightly mentioned in that Memoir.
I was intimate with the Bishop for upwards of forty
years ; and it was during that middle portion of his
life, when his mind was in its greatest vigour, that I
had most intercourse with him.
The editor of the Memoir has indeed industriously
collected many particulars of what had taken place
when he himself was a child, and even before he was
born. But much of what came under my own im
mediate knowledge, may naturally be expected to
have been more accurately and more strongly im
pressed on my memory, than if I had had only to
trust to reports at second or third hand.
I shall therefore briefly notice whatever may occur
to me as likely to interest the reader, without adher
ing to any chronological arrangement, but led rather
by the connection of matter than of time.

l INTRODUCTION.
The date of Bishop Copleston's birth has been
recorded in the Memoir. It is rather a curious co
incidence that he received the baptismal name of
Edward ; certainly without any reference to Oriel
College, of which he afterwards became so distin
guished an ornament, which college was founded by
King Edward II. : and that having been born on the
2nd of February, the day on which is celebrated the
anniversary of the foundation, he completed his
fiftieth year, and the college its five hundredth, on the
very same day, in the year 1826.
It is also a remarkable circumstance, which, though
not like the last-mentioned, purely accidental, was
partly dependent on accident, that all the most
remarkable steps of his elevation in life took place
without any application whatever on his part. He
was elected Eellow of Oriel College, Provost of the
same, Doctor of Divinity by Diploma, Dean of
Chester, and Bishop of Llandaff (and at the same
time Dean of St. Paul's), all without his having
offered himself for any one of these appointments.
Now as for what relates to the deaneries and
bishopric, this is not, it is to be hoped, anything
uncommon. It does, indeed, undoubtedly sometimes
occur that applications for such appointments are
made, and sometimes, it is supposed, with success;
at least, although no one can be certain that an appli
cant has been successful in consequence of his applica
tion, this has certainly not proved in every instance a
har to success. But doubtless the gr^at majority of
cases, and those in which the promotion has been the

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 3
best deserved, have been those of persons who never
did, and never would, use solicitation for themselves.
I except, of course, from what is here said, some
colonial bishoprics, which are such that it taust often
be difl&cult to find a well-qualified man, in easy cir
cumstances, who will consent to undergo, with a
scanty revenue, expatriation, privations, and severe
toil, with perhaps the hazard of an unhealthy climate.
In such a case it is not only allowable, but laudable
for such a man to come forward and offer himself for
such difficult and scantily -requited services.
As for the Headship of a college, it is not at all un
common, or reckoned at all discreditable, for a man
to offer himself as a candidate ; though there are many
instances of its being spontaneously offered.
But a University-Degree (other than an honorary
degree) is very rarely indeed conferred, except on such
as have presented themselves as candidates for it.
And the same may be said of a college-fellowship ; I
mean where there is really an election to it; not a
mere succession, on the claim of ' Founder's Kin,' or
something of that kind. And at Oriel College in
particular (and some few others), there is usually a
strong competition among a considerable number of
candidates. Yet of this college was Mr. Copleston
elected Fellow without having ever offered himself.
It came about in this way : there are, at Oriel,
some few of what are called ' close-fellowships' (in
some colleges the greater part are of this description);
that is, founded for the especial benefit of certain
counties, dioceses, or schools. A native of the spe-
B 2

4 INTRODUCTION.
cified county, &c., is to be elected if there be one
duly qualified, absolutely, even though comparatively
inferior to some candidate from another county. But
if no suitable candidate from the favoured district
should appear, the fellowship becomes open to free
competition. This is the utmost extent, in most
instances at least, I believe in all, of the restriction
imposed by the Founders.
I need not, I trust, apologise for mentioning such
particulars ; because, though well-known to most
Oxford and Cambridge men (not, however, to aU even
of these), there is a large proportion of the Pubhc
wholly ignorant of them. And much attention has,
of late, been called to the subject of college-founda
tions. So much misapprehension prevails on the subject,
that when conversing, several years ago, with a person
who was himself a member of one of the universities,
I found him not only ignorant of the rules laid down
by the Founders of such Fellowships as those just
mentioned, but also, when informed of them, fully con
vinced that they must altogether nullify the original
design. The Fellows, he felt sure, would always elect
the person they preferred, without any reference to his
birth-place; and would allege, rightly or wrongly,
that the other candidates were unqualified. Nor could
he be convinced to the contrary. He was so unac
quainted, not only with the facts, but with human
nature, as not to have the least idea that the depar
ture from the Founder's Will, when it does take place,
is almost always on the opposite side. It is felt to be

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 5
such a hardship to reject a candidate as absolutely un
qualified, and the feelings are so much more engaged
on the side of an individual than of the Public, that a
native of the specified county is generally elected as a
matter of course, even when utterly deficient in the
personal qualifications required by the Founder. And
thus the provisions designed for encouraging learning
in a certain district or school have often had a
directly opposite effect.
At Oriel College, however, it was the practice to
adhere strictly to the Founder's designs. And on a
particular occasion, when there was a vacancy in one
of the close fellowships, the candidates, all of them
being of the specified county, were found on exa
mination to be quite ineligible. When it was
resolved that none of them should be elected, no time
was to be lost in deciding the next point ; since
the very next day was the one fixed by the Statutes
for the election.
Such was the reputation and known character of
Mr. Copleston, then a scholar of Corpus College, that
he was unanimously fixed on; and early the next
morning the Dean of Oriel College called at his
rooms to make him the offer. He was subjected to
a brief examination for form's sake, and was then
regularly elected. At eight in the morning, he had
not the sHghtest expectation of anything unusual;
and at noon, he was probationary Fellow of Oriel
College. It ought not to be omitted that, being intimate
with one of the unsuccessful candidates, he had, at

6 INTRODUCTION.
first, hesitated on that ground, to accept the offer;
but was prevailed on by the assurance, that if he
refused, some other person (and not one of the ori
ginal candidates) would be applied to.
The Provostship he was invited to accept by the
unanimous voices of the Fellows, as is recorded in the
Memoir ; where, however, by a misprint, the name of
' Tierney is put instead of ' Tinney!
As it is usual for the Head of a House to take a
Doctor's Degree, the University, to mark their sense
'of the service done in his able reply to the attacks
of the Edinburgh Beview* spontaneously conferred
on him the degree of D.D., by diploma. This is the
highest honour the University can confer, and it is
accordingly a very rare one.

Considering how numerous were the contributors
to the Edinburgh Beview at that time, and the abihty
of many of them, and their merciless severity, it
required no small courage in an individual to step
forward in a public cause, and ' beard the Hon in
his den.' And the undertaking was not more bold
than the execution was able and successful. The
Beply to the Calumnies, &c., received the honour which,
whatever may be its value in other respects, is at
least an extremely rare one, of an Answer from

* It may be worth noticing that there is a slight mistake in the
Memoir (p. 28), in reference to his ' Advice to a Young Reviewer.'
It was an article in the British Critic (on Mant's Poems), not in the
Edinburgh Revieio, that called forth that witty production.

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 7
the Reviewers, evincing much anger and alarm, but so
far from strengthening their cause, that it caUed forth
a second and still more triumphant Reply.
The lesson was not lost on the Beview. Its articles
relating to Oxford, for the last thirty years and more,
have displayed much more caution, and far greater
abihty, as well as better taste.*
The Work which he published in answer to the
Edinburgh Beview, reminds me to notice his opinions
respecting the system of the University and of the
Colleges. What would have been his opinion of the
proceedings, and of the recommendations, of the Uni
versity Commission, lately appointed, cannot, of course,
be known. In some points it is likely he would have
dissented from the Commissioners. But he expressly
declares, in the work just alluded to, his willingness
that public investigation and needful reforms should
take place. 'I never wish,' says he (p. 186), 'to
see the University' placed above responsibility to
public opinion. I never wish to see her shielded
from the fear of public censure, reposing securely on
her endowments, and disregarding the clamours of
the world around her. It is the terror of the public
voice which keeps in awe our very Government, and
aU our public institutions ; and when once that salu
tary check is removed, we know how soon every ill

* With the single exception of one most offensive article, the
author of which however, not long after expressed publicly and very
strongly (what it would have been no discredit to the conductors to
have expressed also) his shame and sorrow for what he had said. — See
Memoir, p. 93.

8 INTRODUCTION.
weed springs up and ripens in every quarter of the
estate, and how indolent all its stewards and labourers
become. To the voice of the Public we ought always
to answer with respect, and to render an account, if
called upon, of our proceedings. And when that
account is fairly given in, I do not fear that a judg
ment will be passed upon the vain and ungenerous
expectation of perfect virtue.'
And, though active in introducing, both into his
own College and into the University, such needful
improvements as lay within their own reach, he
notices, in a passage a little before the one just cited,
one of the most prominent defects under which many
colleges labour, and which nothing but an Act of Par
liament can remove. ' In most Colleges the Fellow
ships are appropriated to certain schools, dioceses,
counties, and in some cases even to parishes, with a
preference given to Founder's kindred, for ever.
Many qualifications, quite foreign to intellectual
talents and learning, are thus enjoined by the Foun
ders ; and in very few instances is a free choice
allowed to the Fellows of a College, upon any vacancy
in their number. Merit, therefore, has not such a
provision made as the extent of the endowments
might seem to promise. Now, it is certain that each
of these various constitutions cannot be the best.
The best of them, perhaps, are those where an un
restrained choice is left among all candidates who
have taken one degree. The worst are those which
are appropriated to schools, from which boys of six
teen or seventeen are forwarded to a fixed station

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 9
and emolument, which nothing can forfeit but flagrant
misconduct, and which no exertion can render more
valuable.' (P. 184.)
It is true he goes on to speak with approbation of
the tender regard shown by the English Legislature
for the authority of Wills, and the sacredness of pri
vate property ; and expresses his confidence that no
' personal loss ' will be allowed to fall on the ' pre
sent individuals,' and that no change will be made
without careful consideration. In all this, every rea
sonable and moderate man will, I conceive, agree with
him. But he was far from having that idolatrous
reverence for the Wills of our ancestors which is
shown by some, who seem to regard the earth as the
property rather of the dead than of the living.
I have often heard him express his views on this
subject ; and once, in particular, I remember a long
discussion of it between him and a friend, who
maintained extreme principles on that point. That
endowments, and the rules under which they are
placed, ought not to be hastily and rashly meddled
with, is admitted by all sensible men. But it should
be remembered that a man's disposal of property
after his death, is no natural right. It is a right con
ferred (and within certain limits, very wisely conferred)
by law. Now, it is a well-known maxim in this
country, that ' the law abhors perpetuities.' When,
therefore, an exception to this rule is allowed, as in
the case of endowments, it is not too much to require
that some reason should be shown for the exception.
It may fairly be expected, not only that the funds

10 INTRODUCTION.
shall not be expended in a manner positively injurious
to the public, (for that ought not to be permitted
even during the owner's life-time,) but also that their
application should be in some degree useful. It
would, indeed, be too much to require that the pro
visions made should always be such as the Legislature
for the time being should determine to be the most
beneficial possible; for on this, men's opinions will
generally differ greatly, and be liable to frequent
changes. But it does seem fair to require that an
endowment should, in some degree, answer somg good
purpose, and not be a mere waste.
And, moreover, it seems but reasonable that when,
from the altered circumstances of the times, or other
wise, a foundation fails altogether of the object de
signed, a change in the original provisions should be
made by the Legislature. If, for instance, it appears
that some Founder of a College, founded also a
school, for the express purpose of providing a supply
of qualified persons to be Scholars and Fellows of
his College, and appointed that these scholarships
should be filled up from that school, then, if it
should appear that both the School and the College
would be improved, and that better- quahfied persons
would be elected, if there were a perfectly free com
petition, this might be deemed a sufficient ground for
an alteration of the statutes.
Again, in the days when Fellowships were founded
for natives of certain counties, such a native would
usually be one whose ancestors and kindred had long
been settled in the county, and perhaps possessed

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 11
property there ; some powerful cause being necessary
to induce any family to undertake even a journey to
London ; which was then a greater undertaking than
a visit to the Continent is now. But in these days
of easy, and cheap, and rapid locomotion, the place
where any one (above the lowest classes) happens to
have been born, is frequently no indication of any
family connection with that locaUty. The founders
themselves, therefore, if it were possible to consult
them, would hardly wish for the continuance of a
restriction which answers no good purpose whatever.
And as for the preference assigned, in some cases,
to ' Founder's Kin ' for ever, it is clearly of the
character of a perpetual entail ; which is adverse to
the spirit of our law.
The chief part of what has here been said is the
substance of what I heard from the Bishop, in the
conversation above alluded to, and on other occa
sions. One proposal, which has been made from time to
time by several persons — the limitation in time, of
Fellowships, (as is the case in some few colleges,)
never found favour with Bishop Copleston, nor, I
believe, ever will, with any one who judges from
an , intimate practical knowledge of our Universi
ties, rather than from theoretical conjecture. The
proposal proceeds on the supposition, that, usually,
or at least very frequently, a man sits down for life
on a Fellowship, without making any further exer
tion, or looking to anything beyond. But, in fact.

12 INTRODUCTION.
such cases, if ever any such do occur, are so ex
tremely rare as not to be worth noticing. If indeed
the average value of Fellowships were five times what
it is, or if marriage, or a valuable benefice, or other
property, did not vacate them, the succession might
be so slow as to call for some such expedient to
quicken it. But as the case stands, it wiU be found,
on inquiry, that the average time for which a Fellow
ship is actually held is less than that to which it has
been proposed to limit them. Nay, if a comparison
be instituted between such a College, for instance, as
Oriel, where the Fellowships (which are unlimited in
duration) are of even more than the average value, and
therefore offer a better prospect of a life-provision than
some others, and one of the colleges of terminable Fel
lowships, I believe it will be found that they hardly
differ at all in the average time during which Fellow
ships are actually held. And yet the practical differ
ence, in another point of view, is enormous. For,
great is the value of a feeling of security : — of the
confidence that if a man's schemes and hopes do
ultimately fail, at the worst, he will not be cast on
the world in middle hfe utterly destitute, without
means of support, and without social position. It
is not from anticipating, as highly probable, the loss
of a ship, or the burning of a house, that a man is
content to pay much more than the value of the risk,
in insurance, but for the sake of a feeling of security.
Suppose a shipwrecked crew to have saved them
selves from the sea which had threatened to swal
low them, on a small uninhabited island, which

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 13
afforded them wherewithal, to provide themselves
necessary food and shelter. They would probably be
far from designing to pass the rest of their lives
there; or even of remaining there any long time.
They would probably set about some plan of repair
ing or biulding a boat in which to embark for their
own country ; and would perhaps calculate on spend
ing only a few days in their place of refuge. But
it would be a consolation to them to feel that, if
through various accidents their departure were again
and again delayed, they would be at least safe from
perishing. How different would be their feelings, if
they perceived, that, at the next spring-tide, the sea
would cover the island !
Now this comparison may illustrate the case of
Fellowships. I myself, when elected at Oriel, had
formed no design of retaining a Fellowship for life.
In fact, I held it for only nine years. But if I had
been offered the choice between that Fellowship and
one of double the value, but which was to expire
in nine or ten years, I should not have hesitated
a moment in preferring the smaller. And such, I
apprehend, would be the feeling of the great ma
jority. The effect, therefore, of the proposed change would
be, to destroy a great part of the value of Fellowships,
as effectually, and as completely without any com
pensating benefit, as if one were to take just so much
money and throw it into the sea.

14 INTRODUCTION.
One improvement in the examination-statute, which
was, of course, entirely within the reach of the Uni
versity itself, he earnestly and perseveringly, but
vainly, recommended ; which was, to have the names
printed of all who pass their examination for the
Bachelor's Decree; as is done at Trinity College,
Dublin. At present the names of those only are
printed who obtain what is called an 'Honour;'
i. e. who are distinguished beyond those who merely
satisfy the Examiners. Of these there were at first
two classes only; which were augmented afterwards
to three, and ultimately to four. But the names of
those in the fifth class ; — that is, of all the rest, — are
not published.
His proposal was, that they should be. He was
for considering all as having obtained some honour,
who, on examination, had been pronounced worthy
of an Academical Degree. It is a reproach, he
thought, to the University, that the attainment of a
degree, without any further distinction, should be
regarded as no honour, but rather a discredit.
This view is adverted to in a letter of his, printed
in the Memoir, p. 210. In that letter he also throws
out the suggestion (as several others have done from
time to time), of having the candidates of each Class
arranged in order of merit, and not, as at present,
alphabetically. I do not know, however, that he ever
very fully and carefully discussed this last question.
I myself have always, on this point, agreed with the
great majority of the most experienced Oxford Tutors
and Examiners, that such a change woidd be for

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 15
the worse. Its advantages, ^hich I do not deny,
would be, I am convinced, more than counterbalanced
by several disadvantages. But, above all, there is one
objection, which in my opinion far outweighs aU that
can be said in favour of the plan. An arrangement
in the order of merit, would cut off that freedom
which candidates now, much to their benefit, enjoy,
of following each the bent of his own mind in the
choice of the subjects and the books in which he
shall be examined.
An attempt might indeed be made, for a time, to
continue this hberty under the proposed change.
But the attempt would soon fail. To decide exactly
on the comparative merits of candidates nearly equal,
and who had prepared themselves in different books,
and different departments of knowledge, would more
than double the labour, great as it now is, of the
Examiners ; and, after all, would never be so satisfac
torily accomplished as not to leave room for perpetual
complaints. I know, from the experience of examining numerous
candidates for Fellowships, how difficult and anxious
a task it is to decide (as must be done in that case)
on comparative merit ; and that, when usually it is
only between two or three, — ^the best out of perhaps
ten or twelve candidates, — that the competition exists ;
since there is no need (as there would be in degree-
examinations) to place in order of merit, the inferior
ones, who have no chance of election. But the com
petitors for a Fellowship are all examined in the same
passages of the same books, and set to write on the

16 INTRODUCTION.
same subjects. And, moreover, they are examined
privately and separately, that no one may derive an
advantage from overhearing another. And a similar
course it would, I have no doubt, be found necessary
to adopt, under the proposed alteration, for the
degree-examinations ; the utility of which would, I am
convinced, be thereby greatly impaired.
The Bishop's proposal, however, of printing the
names of the candidates of every Class, and thus pro
claiming the attainment of a degree at all, as an
honour, I have always heartily approved.
But the fact is, that very many persons came to the
University so very ill-prepared for such a course of
study as properly belongs to a University, that
most of their undergraduate-period is occupied in
learning what they ought to have learnt at school.
And the standard of examination for the Degree of
B. A. is in consequence so much lowered, that to
have merely passed it at the end of three years, will
never be regarded as a credit, but rather the reverse.
The obvious and only remedy for this (and a very
easy and complete remedy too), would be to establish
Si preliminary examination by the University, to test
the fitness of each candidate for Matriculation. At
present there is none. It is left entirely to the
Governors of each College to examine a candidate
either strictly or sHghtly, or (as often happens) not at
all. And I need not enlarge on the various tempta
tions some of them are exposed to to receive ill-
prepared candidates.
I put forward accordingly the above suggestion

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 17
when Head of a House, at Oxford, and (in con
junction with the present Provost of Oriel College)
earnestly and perseveringly urged its adoption. We
were at first in a very small minority, which, however,
gradually increased till it approached very near to a
majority. And in my evidence before ^he University
Commissioners, I pressed this point on their attention.
I urged, that if this one alteration were made, it
would, besides its direct and immediate advantages,
prepare the way for other improvements; while,
without this, all other plans of improvement, though
they might look well upon paper, would, in practice,
prove abortive.
And I had some correspondence on the subject
with Bishop Copleston, in which I pointed out that,
besides other and greater advantages, this alteration
would facilitate (which nothing else could) the adop
tion of the one he had been advocating. For, no one
acquainted with the University can doubt, that the
examination for a Bachelor's degree without honours,
is no more than a lad of seventeen or eighteen ought
to be able to pass, if he has been at a really good
school, and is not either so naturally deficient or so
negligent as to disqualify him for an academical career.
If, therefore, candidates were subjected to such an
examination previously to matriculation, they would
begin their University-course just where many of them
now end it. The standard of examination for a degree
might then be raised so as to make the certificate a
real credit ; and Oxford would become a real and a
c

18 INTRODUCTION.
good University to many to whom it is now little
more than an indifferent school.
The Bishop laid before me several objections, that
had been, or might be, urged against the proposal.
His letters to me on the subject, I have not at hand ;
but my replies to the objections, in a letter which I
will take the liberty of inserting, will sufficiently show
what the objections themselves were.
The reader wiU please to bear in mind, that all I
said in the following letter, of the existing schools,
colleges, and universities, relates to the state of things
nearly a quarter of a century ago : —
' I am obliged to you for stating the objections
which have occurred to you, to the proposed statute,*
as I thence derive the satisfaction of being convinced
that I know the worst; having little or no appre
hension of being hereafter encountered with any
fresh arguments of any weight, omitted by you. It
is also a great advantage to have the arguments
drawn out, as you do, like ^regular soldiers in a
fair field, instead of engaging with an indistinct
or sophistical disputant, whose reasons are like a
rabble of barbarians scattered up and down, and
lurking in bushes. It would, however, be mortifying
to me, to think that you had finally made up your
mind on the question; but I know that you are
accustomed to state objections to any system or plan.

* One for establishing a university-examination for candidates for
Matriculation, which was then before the Board of Heads of Houses.

REMINISCENCES OP BISHOP COPLESTON. 19
in their full force, for the sake of ascertaining all
that can be said on each side.
'The proposed plan is, as you judged, designed
to operate on schools much as the degree-examina
tion-statute did on colleges, in order that men may
come to the University as a University ; i. e. suf
ficiently grounded in early rudiments to be capable
of profiting by college lectures, instead of having to
acquire, here, the elementary knowledge which schools
ought and profess to furnish.
'The answer suggested is, that schools, as it is,
perform their duty better than colleges. I cannot
admit either premiss. I deny that schools do per
form their duty better than colleges do theirs ; and
I also maintain that, even if it were so, this would
not render the proposed measure less desirable.
' For, the question is, not whether schoolmasters
are as diligent as college-tutors, but whether they are
as dihgent as they might be induced to become.
Both are servants of the public. Now, if you had
two servants, neither of them giving complete satisfac
tion, but one of them less negligent than the other,
you would not scruple to reform him, if opportunity
offered, on the ground that the other was worse :
especially if it so happened that the improvement of
that other was in this way the most attainable : which
is precisely my view of the present case. For, I
conceive that the Universities are capable of inde
finite improvement, if we begin by this step; but,
that unless we secure men's coming here tolerably
grounded in elementary knowledge, we must ever
c 2

20 INTRODUCTION.
remain, as is too much the case now, in a great
measure, a school, and a bad school too, rather than
a University. ' But I also dispute the fact. To compare schools
generally with colleges generally, may seem a vague
inquiry ; but take the most in repute of each, — Eton,
Westminster, Harrow, &c. versus Oriel, Brasenose,
Balliol, Christ Church, &c. I do believe that the
tutors in all the higher colleges are for the most part
exemplary in diligence. I can testify for most of
those of Oriel, from yourself to the present day, that
they have laboured a great deal, even at what is out
of their proper province; viz. teaching their pupils
many things which they confessedly ought to have
learned at school. Now, as for schools, I do assure
you that in a late discussion at the Board, it was not
only admitted that a great majority of the boys were
sent off shamefully ill-grounded, but it was even urged
as an argument against the measure, that this could
not possibly be avoided, and that consequently we
should be requiring of masters what it was out of
their power to perform. The numbers, it was con
tended, were so great, as to make it impossible to se
cure an attention to elementary knowledge ; — that we
never could hope that they could instruct properly
more than a very small proportion ; — and that at the
largest of all, Eton, if any boy turned out a sound
scholar (except the few who have private tutors), it
must be in spite of the system pursued there, and
not in consequence of it. This, I say, was admitted
on all hands. I had only to answer, that I was con-

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 21
fident they could do their duty better, and would, if
we adopted the statute ; but that if they really could
not, the sooner they shut their doors the better.
' You observe, that it is natural schools should be
less neghgently conducted than colleges, because the
master's bread depends on his reputation. It does
so ; but I much doubt whether his reputation depends
on his real merit ; I mean, merit of that kind which
I have in view ; viz. the dihgent elementary instruc
tion of the great mass. His reputation depends but
too much on a small number oi first classes and prizes,
gained by boys he has brought up. It is like a lot
tery ; the sale of tickets depends indeed on the sup
posed chance of profit ; but men's calculations of this
are dazzled by the blaze of a few £20,000 prizes.
'And as for the smaller schools, they bait their hooks
for fond mothers, with roast-beef and plum-pudding,
salubrious air, clean sheets, &c.
' I will not say, however, that, if I had been left to
mere antecedent conjecture, I might not have come to
a different conclusion from what experience has taught
me. And so also in the case of colleges ; most of
which, as you observe, do not depend for their bread
on their reputation ; yet, in fact, is it found that those
are the least "diligent whose pecuniary motives are the
weakest ?
' If any stranger, ten years ago, had been told that
the Principal of this Hall* depended entirely, and the

* The reader is to observe that a Hall, at Oxford, is unendowed.
It is entirely from the room-rents and fees, paid by independent
members, that the Principal and other officers of a Hall are sup-

22 INTRODUCTION.
Provost of Oriel, not at all, on the independent
members of his Society for his income, which, would
he have guessed to be the most likely to exert him
self in the cause of discipline and good education ?
Would he not have made a guess the very reverse of
the reality ?
' And you should remember that it is the Head of a
Hall that makes this remark.
' I fully concur in your objection to private tuition
in the extent to which it is now carried ; and I rejoice
in the hope that attentive refiection wUl bring you to
the same conclusions to which it has long since brought
me ; that it cannot be checked, to any good purpose,
if at all, by any other means than the adoption of the
proposed plan. You complain, justly, that while
tuition is called cheap, a father finds himself called
on to pay £50 a year to a private Tutor, beyond his
calculations. Now this is not an evil confined to can
didates for Honours, whom you propose to preclude
from receiving this private assistance. The great
majority of the private Tutors are those employed in
dragging through their examinations men who have
come too backward to keep up, unassisted, vrith the
very humblest of the College lectures. Indeed, I can
assure you, as a fact, that one of the very objections
urged against our Statute, is, that it would throw out
of employment these Tutors, who are very deserving
men !
ported. At the time referred to, St. Alban's Hall was crowded with
members, such as they were ; to none of whom was there even a pre
tence of affording a particle of instruction or care of any kind.

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 23
' Some College Tutors, perhaps, may be neghgent ;
but the pupils of many who, I know, are not so, are
compelled, by their backwardness, to resort to that
help. Private Tutors are the crutches of our lame
system. If you can restore strength to a lame man,
you do him good; but by simply taking away his
crutches, you leave him worse off than before. And,
if the prohibition were enforced, of private tuition, to
candidates for Honours, the character indeed of pri
vate Tutors might be changed, but the number would
not be at all diminished. For, the CoUege Tutors
would, in many cases, be induced to devote more of
their time, gladly, to the higher description of men,
and would thus be forced to omit more of such ele
mentary lectures as they now give ; so that m.ore of
the backward men would be driven to seek private
help. ' The proposed plan, on the other hand, would do
all that could be 'done towards superseding the want
of these crutches.
' It may be alleged, you observe, that the Head and
Tutors of any College are the best judges, who is fit
to be received into their Society. True ; and no one
thinks of restricting them in that, if that is all they
desire. My Porter is a member of the Hall, and as
long as he behaves peaceably, the University has
nothing to do with him ; but if I seek to make him,
or to make any one, a member of the University, then,
surely that Body — like every other Society — must be
allowed to be the judge who shall be admitted a
member, and who excluded. The Heads of Houses,

24 INTRODUCTION.
therefore, could not reasonably complain of any in
fringement of their rights, even had the proposed
statute extended to all, instead of being limited, as
it is, to those only of the independent members who
mean to graduate.* For, it should be remembered,
that the character of each member of the University
(or of any other Society) affects, pro tanto, the credit
and welfare of the whole Body.
' But if it be meant that the Tutors of each College
are better qualified than any publicly-appointed Board
of Examiners, to ascertain the proficiency of each can
didate, this I could only admit if each College had
separately the power of conferring degrees : because
they would have probably different kinds of examina
tion for the degree, and different kinds of lectures
preparatory to such examination, and consequently each
would be the best judge of a student's fitness for enter
ing on the course of study required. But as it is, the
college lectures being supposed to have reference to
the one common University-examination for Univer
sity-degrees, I cannot see how the Tutors of each Col
lege, separately, can be, on the whole, better fitted to
judge of a candidate's admissibihty, than public
University Examiners. At the utmost, they can only
be equally good. For it is intended that the public

* In order to mitigate the change, it was proposed that there should
be an exemption from the preliminary examination, (1) for those who
had scholarships in any College, and (2) for those who might wish
to reside some time at Oxford without taking a degree, and whom
some College might be willing to receive. These exceptions were
proposed not as anything in itself beneficial, but to obviate opposi

tion

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 25
Examiners should be the very College Tutors themselves,
or those who have been, or are fit to be, such. There
are, suppose, fifty or sixty of these : now if we sup
pose each one of these fully competent to the task
(which is the most favourable supposition), then
surely it must be possible to find two or three of them
competent. 'But supposing all College Tutors, in perpetual
succession, both fully able and willing to subject
candidates to a proper examination, and suppose all
Heads of Houses also resolute to resist all solicitations,
and to admit no one who was not fully approved, still
I should feel convinced that the effect on schools, both
on masters and boys, would be much stronger if the
measure emanated from the University. Else, why
should not each College give testimonials for degrees
also ? And then we should be no longer a University,
but a loose confederation of many Universities.
' But you well know how remote from fact and
from possibility is the hypothesis on which I have
proceeded. 'k. young man, who has small store of learning or of
money, takes a fancy to marry a portionless girl. His
immediate resource is to take pupils ; {take in would
be the proper expression ;) he has only to ask enough.
If he modestly a'sk £100, he may fail ; but if his terms
are £200 or £300, ignorant persons conclude he
must be qualified ; especially if he have a Degree of
D.D., which they not unnaturally conclude must
imply the highest perfection of learning the Univer
sity can impart. He knows, perhaps, enough of

26 INTRODUCTION.
Greek, to lecture (I speak advisedly), ' in the Greek
Testament, with the English by his side.' His pupils
come here qualified as one might expect ; and if one
Head of a House refuse them, another is prevailed on
by solicitation, and by promises of what shall be done,
under a private tutor. The men find themselves ex
cluded (vnthout most irksome and intense exertion)
from attaining even mediocrity in academical pursuits ;
and their emulation is gradually diverted to^ pigeon-
shooting and boat-racing, &c.
' The more I consider the subject, the more I am
convinced that we can never possess the character of
a University till we adopt a plan for securing in all
who are admitted a tolerable foundation on which to
build a course of manly study.'
I do not know how far the above reasons operated
on the Bishop's mind. I do not recollect receiving
any answer to the letter from which I have given an
extract. And not long after I ceased to have any
official connection with the University.
It is not unlikely that the tone of several attacks
made on the University of Oxford, in, and previous
to, the year 1810, (such, as those to which Dr.
Copleston replied,) may have proved, for a time, a
hindrance to the introduction of some desirable
reforms, through the agency of calm, rational, de
liberate, public opinion.
For when many charges that cannot be substan
tiated are brought forward against any person or
institution, an excessive reaction sometimes ensues,

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 27
and a sympathy with the assailed party will, perhaps,
be carried even to an extreme. And especially is
this Hkely to take place when the attack is evidently
dictated by malice, and conducted with scurrilous
insolence, with utter disregard of truth, and by
writers displaying such ignorance as proves them to
be incompetent judges. Persons of good taste are
disgusted by vulgar abuse; good reasoners detect
fallacious arguments ; men of learning despise igno
rance when pretensions to superior knowledge are put
forth ; and those who are acquainted with some of the
facts, detect falsehoods. And though the common
run of careless readers, who have but little of the
above qualifications, may be amused for the moment
with saucy flippancy, the impression likely to be
ultimately made on the public mind is, that none
of the charges brought forward are deserving of any
attention at all.

The Work on the Currency, which appeared in the
form of letters addressed to Mr. Peel (the late Sir
Robert), attracted much attention, and probably exer
cised no small influence on the public mind. The
forcible and luminous reasoning in these letters must
always be admired by every competent judge who
peruses them.* But the value and importance of such
* It is remarked by the author of the Memoir, that this is ' one
of the instances in which the sparkles of a temporary controversy
are concentrated with such power as to produce a permanently use
ful light.' (P. 8,3.)

28

INTRODUCTION.

a publication is likely to be under-estimated by any
one at the present day who is unacquainted with, or
does not reflect on, the circumstances of those times.
No science has made more rapid strides in what
relates to a generally-diffused acquaintance with it,
than political economy in the last thirty years. What
were regarded by many as paradoxes when those
letters appeared, are now admitted as elementary
truths, hardly needing even to be formally stated.
And fallacies, which would now be thought scarcely
worth notice, were at that time not only generally
received, but acted on in the most important national
concerns. It was generally believed that this publication
proved, for many years, a bar to Dr. Copleston's
elevation to the Bench, and that he must himself have
been well aware that such a consequence was to be
expected. 8o7ne special reasop there must certainly
have been for the passing over, for so many years, of
one who was then universally considered the fu'st man
at Oxford. And the way in which this was accounted
for seems not at all unreasonable.
He was indeed, in general politics, a most decided
Tory ; that is, an adherent to the views of Mr. Pitt
and Lord GrenviUe; both of whom he greatly
admired as statesmen, and with the latter he was
personally intimate. And I have heard him remark
on the coalition that nobleman once formed with the
Whigs, as the only point he disapproved of in his
political career. But he strongly differed from the
then Tory Administration on two points — the Roman

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 29
Catholic Disabilities, on which question he concurred
with Mr. Pitt and Lord Grenville,* and the Currency,
in which the Public took a very warm interest, and on
which Miiiisters most particularly needed support.
He might very well, however, have abstained from
giving to any of their measures a positive support
contrary to his own judgment, and might then have
trusted to his general merits to obtain for him the ap
propriate notice, t Many persons no doubt in his
situation would thus have earned for themselves the
' safe reward of silence,' | on the plea that it was
no business of theirs more than of any one else, to
speak their sentiments on such and such points. And
hence we too often find that the interests of the Pub
lic are left to those who have some private or party-
ends in view, or to those who have nothing to lose or
to risk in coming forward.
Dr. Copleston, however, was not one whose public
spirit could be smothered by personal considerations ;
nor again, was he one of those bigots to political

* The vehement opposition to the election of Lord Grenville as
Chancellor in the year 1810 (in which contest Mr. Copleston strenu
ously exerted himself), sprung chiefly from his well-known views on
this point, and was not at all connected (as the editor of the Memoir
seems to suppose, p. 25) with ' old rory-prejudices ; ' for all three of
the candidates were of tory-principles. But, as is well remarked in
the Memoir, Lord Grenville's supporters voted for one who was iiot
in the Ministry, nor ever likely to be again.
+ It is a curious accident that there happene'd to be at one time
no less than seven Bishops of the Established Church who were, or
had been, members of the one small College of Oriel ; viz. four Eng
lish, two Irish, and one Colonial.
X ' Tuta silentio merces.' — HoR.

30 INTRODUCTION.
party who cannot see, or, at least, will not acknow
ledge, any good on one side, or any error on the
other. In his general political views, he concurred,
as I have said, with the Ministers whose financial
measures he boldly censured ; so boldly, as to exclude
himself from all chance of preferment at their hands.
And yet he never made any secret of opinions on
other points which would be likely to render him
equally unacceptable to the opposite party. 'That
the opposite course should have been pursued, and
should have prevailed,' (viz. the denial either that
the currency was depreciated, when it was, or, that
this was an evil,) ' I can only account for by con
sidering the nature of the cause in support of which
these financial doctrines were first avowed, and the
political hostility to that cause which was declared by
many of their adversaries.'*
I have seen, however, in a quarterly Periodical an
Article on the Memoir, which, with unhesitating cool
ness, speaks of him as a Whig. Whether a repre
sentation so emphatically the reverse of the truth was
intentional, or merely a mistake arising from utter
carelessness as to a matter in which the truth might
have been so easily ascertained, either by the slightest
inquiry, or from the letters to Mr. Peel, or from the

* ' Whatever my own opinion of the doctrine may be, it certainly
does not arise from any disapprobation of the policy then pursued, nor
from any leaning towards the foreign politics of its opponents. On the
contrary, if that cause had required much greater pecuniai-y sacrifices
from this nation than have been made, according to my judgment it
was well worth them all.' — First Letter to Right Hon. Robert Peel,
p. 5, third edit.

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 31
pubUshed correspondence with Lord Dudley, we have
no means of knowing. But on either supposition,
such a misstatement is inexcusable.
Not that it is really any reproach (though the
writer evidently so meant it) to be a Whig, any more
than to be a Tory. I myself, who have never been
either, nor adopted the creed of any party, have
been intimately acquainted with several worthy and
patriotic men of every party. But whatever is worth
mentioning at all, is worth stating correctly.
And, in the present case, the writer could scarcely
complain if the worst interpretation were put on his
misstatement ; because, in the same Article, he puts
forward another, which will hardly admit of any
more favourable interpretation. He represents it as
the established custom at Oriel College, at the time
when Bishop Copleston was Fellow, to dine at four
o'clock, and devote the whole remainder of the day
to conviviality ! The reader will perceive that this
implies a very heavy charge ; and, indeed, it is com
mented on as such by the writer himself. It repre
sents persons to whom is entrusted the education
of the young nobility and gentry of England as a
set of luxurious, indolent sensualists. Such a charge
is what no good man would bring forward without
most careful inquiry and full proof. An injurious
imputation thrown out in careless ignorance must be
accounted one of those ' idle words' for which men
will have to render a heavy account hereafter. But
even this is, I fear, too favourable a view of the
present case. A writer who knew so accurately the

32 INTRODUCTION.
dinner-hour, could hardly have been ignorant that the
hour for afternoon chapel was six, and that it was
the constant practice of the Fellows to repair from
the common-room to chapel, and thence to disperse
to their several occupations. One can hardly doubt,
therefore, that the untruth I have alluded to was a
wilful and deliberate calumny.
The publication alluded to just above, of some
of Lord Dudley's letters, was designed to be fol
lowed up by the publication of some more. But
his Lordship's executors objected; not, surely, from
any apprehension that the memory of the deceased
was likely to suffer from anything published by his
friend, but for some reasons best known to them
selves, respecting which there are conjectures afloat,
but no explanations given. They succeeded, however,
in obtaining an injunction ; and the design was
dropped. From these letters, and also from publications of
his own, besides his recorded speeches in Parliament,
and some letters published in the Memoir, may be
collected the grounds on which the Bishop advocated
the removal of Roman Catholic disabilities. What
ever changes took place, and some did take place,
in his views on that subject, he never admitted the
claim to that removal as a matter of absolute right,
to be conceded irrespectively of all considerations
of public safety and national welfare. He thought,
as of course every good man must, that we are
bound not to impose or to maintain any penalties.

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 33
or any restrictions — even on those who, perhaps, may
not be disposed to show kindness or justice to us —
when these can be dispensed with as not requisite
for the public welfare. To return evil for evil, on
the ground of the alleged ill-desert ¦ of the parties,
is manifestly to act on an unchristian principle.
But beyond this, which evidently resolves the
whole question into one of public expediency, he
never went.
On that question of expediency, i. e. of natural
safety, his opinions underwent some change in his
later years. He' had, I believe, calculated — in com
mon with several other sensible and worthy men — on
gratitude being shown for concessions made, noto
riously, and one may say, confessedly, to intimida
tion ; a result, of which, I believe, since the world
was created, all history cannot furnish a single
instance. The increased grant to Maynooth College he op
posed ; and his protest against it is printed in the
Memoir.
The case was a very difficult one ; and no reason
able man can, I think, wonder at those who voted
either way. For, each of the three (and there were
but three) alternatives, was open — as every man of
common sense must on reflection perceive — to very
weighty objections. The three courses which lay
before Government, were, either (1) to retain every
thing on the same footing as for the last half-century.

34 INTRODUCTION.
by moving for the usual grant ; or (2) to retrace our
steps, by cutting off the grant which had been for
so many years calculated on ; or (3) to augment the
grant, and place it on a different footing, so as to
obviate the necessity of a yearly debate.
Sir Robert Peel's description (on this and on
several other occasions) of such a threefold choice,
was often derided by unthinking persons, as if it had
been some original and favourite fancy of his own,
instead of being a necessary condition of human
affairs. For, it perpetually happens in every depart
ment of life, that there will be three, and only three,
possible courses before us ; and that there wiU be
objections, greater or less, to each of them; which
it argues no superior wisdom to overlook, or to
omit balancing with each other. For instance, in
pursuing one's course through some difficult tract of
country, it vrill often be a matter of anxious delibera
tion whether (1) to make a halt where we are, or (2)
to return, or (3) to advance.
In the case now under consideration, there were,
as I have said, strong objections to each of these
courses ; and yet, as one of the three must be adopted,
it would manifestly have been extremely rash to
reject any one of them, simply on the ground of
those objections, without taking into account the
objections to each of the two others.
How far this was done, or left undone, by each of
those who took part in that debate, any one who
takes an interest in the question (which of course it

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 35
would be out of place here to discuss),* may see
by looking over the Reports of the debates. But it
is worth observing, in reference to the protest, that
the reasons given in it, which are undoubtedly
weighty, have no reference at all to the only novel
feature of the proposed measure — the increase of the
grant — but would equally apply to any such grant,
whether of 30,000/., or 3000/., or 30/. Any one
accordingly looking at the protest alone, and having
no knowledge of the circumstances of the case, would
never doubt that such a gtant was a thing hitherto
unheard of, and now proposed for the first time.
That many such grants had been long since made
(whether rightly or wrongly) in several of our colonial
possessions; — that the support, in this manner, of
Maynooth College itself, had been introduced (some
think, unvrisely,) by Mr. Pitt, half a century before ;—
and that the grants annually made to it ever since,
had been unopposed by the far greater part of those
who now petitioned and voted against the measure; —
aU this is what no one, on simply reading the pro
test, would at all suspect, or would conceive to be
credible, f
Considering what lessons are furnished, not only
by all history, but by almost every one's ordinary
experience, in which we so often have presented
to us only a choice of evils, it is really wonder
ful that so many intelligent persons should, bcca-

* See Thoughts on a Proposed Orant to a Roman Catliolic
Seminary. t See Elements of Logic, book iii. § 17 ; 'Fallacy of Objections.'
D 2

36 INTRODUCTION.
sionally, sit dovm satisfled that they have proved
their point, when once they have shown that there
are grave objections to some course, without at all
noticing those that lie against every different course ;
or seeming at all to have thought what to answer
if asked, ' What then shall we, do?'
In particular, questions pertaining to religious
toleration often present this choice of difficulties.
If a case be such in itself as seems to justify
civil disabilities on religious grounds, on the plea
of self-defence against public danger, this does
not at once decide the question, unless some
mode be shown which does promise to obviate
or lessen the danger. Suppose some one points
out a danger to the Established Church, from
Presbyterians and other Dissenters, who overthrew,
in Charles the First's time, the Constitution in
Church and State, or from Roman Catholics, as
owning allegiance to a foreign Power, he may be
asked, would you then exclude them from office,
leaving them the elective franchise ? This system has
been tried, and with very ill success. Would you,
then, exclude them from all civil rights ? All History,
from that of the Helots of Lacedemon, to that of the
Christian subjects of the Turk at this day, shows,
that subjects who are not regarded as citizens are
a source of weakness and peril to every empire.
Would you, then, endeavour to bring them into con
formity by penal laws ? Our own experience forbids
a repetition of that experiment. Or, lastly, would
you propose, as was done in Spain to the Moors and

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 37
Jews, the alternative of conformity or banishment?
If such a course would be wise and right, is it
practicable? Or, is there any other that you can
suggest, which will not leave us in the condition
alluded to in the Roman Proverb, ' Lupum auribus
teneo?' when it is difficult and hazardous to keep
one's hold, and eminently hazardous to let go.
Dr. Copleston's views on such points generally, he
set forth in a pamphlet pubhshed in 1810, in answer
to a Mr. Croker, who had assailed him for supporting
Lord Grenville as candidate for the Chancellorship. ' It
is for the good of the Whole, that places of trust and
power are made, and with a view to that good they ought
to be filled. To claim admission into them on any other
ground, is to exalt the interest of the individual above
that of the State. StiU, it is an undisputed maxim of
Enghsh Government, that an equal participation of
civil rights shaU be enjoyed by all ranks and persua
sions, as far as is consistent with the public good. The
imposition, therefore, or the relaxation of these disabi-
hties, will ever be a varying and not a fundamental
rule of policy. It must be always relative to the
cu'cumstances of the times. Unless this position were
admitted, vrith what conscience could we carry up an.
Address to the Throne, talking of the wisdom of our
forefathers who imposed restraints on Cathohcs, and
yet expressing satisfaction at the repeal of the greatest
part of them within the present reign? Does not
this very statement contain the principle for which I
am contending? I do not dispute that these laws
were proofs of the wisdom of our forefathers ; but to

38 INTRODUCTION.
make that wisdom our beacon and sole guide in
matters of temporary policy, after circumstances have
changed, appears to me a much stronger proof of the
folly of their posterity.' — (Pp. 14, 15 of Letter to
Mr. Croker^

On the subject of the mamage-laws, I have not any
letters of the Bishop's preserved; nor am I certain
whether I ever received any. But his opinion in
favour of an alteration, is well known. Some of my
readers may, perhaps, not be aware, that, when a Bill
was brought in simply to ratify certain past marriages;
a clause was inserted, subsequently, in its passage
through the Upper House, which the other House
assented to, expressly nulhfying such marriages for
the future. Whether this prohibition was to be con
strued as extending to marriages with a deceased
wife's sister (a case of which the Act makes no ex
press mention) was for a good while a matter of legal
doubt; and very able lawyers decidedly maintained
the negative. At length, however, a decision was
given by a judge, in the affirmative, and is, I suppose,
not likely now to be reversed.
What the Bishop's opinion was as to \}iMi, propriety
of such marriages, I am not certain. But of this I
do feel certain, that he never would have regarded
that question — which is the only one usually dis
cussed — as the real question at issue. He was always
most decidedly opposed to that over-governing system
which would enjoin by law everything that men ought

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 39
to do, and enact legal prohibitions of everything that
is unadvisable. While he would have been ready, I
have no doubt, to dissuade any friend who should
have consulted him, from a marriage in which there
was an excessive disparity of age, or of station, or
some taint of hereditary disease, he would, neverthe
less, have opposed the enacting of a law to regulate
the age and the social condition, and the state of
bodily health, of all who should be allowed to marry.
It ought not to be inferred that one who objects to
sumptuary laws, prescribing what dress and diet each
person shall use, is therefore necessarily an advocate
for extravagant luxury ; or that if he is against intro
ducing the curfew, he can be no friend to early hom's.
Men ought to be allowed to judge and to act, as they
themselves think fit, except where it can be shown
(as in many cases it can be) that some serious public
evil would result, or that some public benefit would
be obtained by a restriction, sufficient to overbalance
the evil of that restriction itself. The burden of proof
clearly lies on those who advocate the introduction, or
the continuance, of any limitation of liberty.
I myself have accordingly always declined (and his
principle always coincided, on this point, with mine)
to join issue in the question as to the advisableness
of such marriages ; the proper question being, whe
ther a sufficiently strong case of public inconvenience
can be made out to justify a legal prohibition.
I know not what was his opinion of the interpreta
tions (very forced and ' non-natural' as they appear
to me) which have been given of the Mosaic Law as

40 INTRODUCTION.
to this point, by those who have dragged the Penta
teuch into this controversy. But I am certain that
he, in common with the very persons who have appealed
to what they call ' the divine law,' in this matter,
never considered the ceremonial or the civil regula
tions of the Levitical Code as binding on us. No
one considers himself bound by that, to abstain from
the forbidden meats, or from selling land in perpetuity,
or to require any one to marry his brother's widow.
Nay, even what are confessedly moral duties, no
Christian Legislature has felt bound in all cases to
enforce by its own laws. Disobedience to parents,
for instance, and gluttony and drunkenness, no one
would deny to be moral offences ; and yet no Legis
lature denounces against them the penalty of death.
The whole, therefore, of the appeal to the Mosaic
Law is manifestly irrelevant, even on the showing of
the very persons who have got up this topic of decla
mation ; for the purpose, apparently, of diverting
attention from the real points at issue.
The civil and the ceremonial Ordinances of that
Law can thus far, and only thus far, be taken as a
guide; namely, that anything which is not merely
permitted, but distinctly enjoined, in the Law, cannot
be at variance with the immutable principles of mo
rality. If, for instance, the marriage of a brother and
sister-in-law had been in itself an incestuous union, it
would never have been (as it is) enjoined in a certain
case by the inspired law-giver.
And as for the appeals which some have made to
Canons, and Decrees, &c. of some ancient Councils and

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 41
Churches on the subject, one cannot but think these
must have been designed to captivate unthinking and
ill-informed hearers, and had no weight at all in the
minds of those who resorted to such an argument ; and
who must have known (which some of their hearers
probably did not) that similar authorities might be
brought forward against second marriages of the
clergy, against the marriage of cousins, &c.
The only argument that really does bear on the ques
tion at issue, — that is, that alleges a supposed public
evil sufficient to justify and call for a legal prohi
bition, — is one which the Bishop must have regarded
(judging from the conclusion he arrived at) as either
inapplicable, or insufficient. It is urged that, if such
marriages were legal, the comfort of many families
would be destroyed, by its being rendered impossible
for a sister-in-law to undertake, without occasioning
scandal, the superintendence of a widower's house
hold, and the care of his children.
To this it has been answered, first, that experience
has proved the contrary ; for that no such effect did
result during that long series of years, before the Act
was passed, when such marriages (though liable to be
set aside by a law which was seldom or never en
forced) did very frequently take place between most
respectable persons, without any scandal being thence
created. And no one can say that during that period
such scandal could have been prevented by the mere
contingent nullity as it may be called — the voidable-
ness — of a marriage between brother and sister-

42 INTRODUCTION.
in-law, when no one could regard this as a thing
quite out of the question, unheard of, and im
possible. Now these are matters which are decided not by
enactments passed by a parliamentary majority, but by
public opinion and national customs. The idea of
anything being made unnatural by act op Par
liament, and perhaps again, a few years after,
made natural and creditable by another Act, and
again unnatural in a subsequent Session, — such an
idea is worthy of Canute's courtiers, who pretended
that the regal power could control the tide.
Long experience, therefore, it is urged, has proved
the groundlessness of the apprehension. And it is
urged,, secondly, that there is more ground for the
apprehension on the opposite side. For, when mar
riage is made illegal between parties who — as expe
rience has amply proved — are likely to feel that kind
of attachment which would naturally lead to mar
riage, then, their living together in very familiar and
constant intercourse might be attended with suspicion ;
since no one could be certain that they might not feel
that mutual attachment which would prove to them a
source of temptation.
But suppose, on the other hand, such marriages
legal, no such suspicion could arise against any even
tolerably respectable persons ; since it would always
be supposed that if they felt inclined to marry, they
would do so. None but the lowest outcast of
society would ever be suspected of living by choice

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 43
with his deceased wife's sister as a concubine, when
he had it in his power to make her his wife.
And accordingly a case has been adduced, which,
probably, was one out of many, of a female who
wished to reside with her widowed brother-in-law,
but was deterred by the fear of scandal in the exist
ing state of the law.
Whether the Bishop, however, regarded the argu
ments urged in favour of the law as operating in the
contrary direction, or merely as insufficient, I cannot
say vfith certainty.

The same principle of non-interference with indi
vidual liberty, where no necessity can be proved,
applies equally to another case, that of the declara
tion 'on the true faith of a Christian' required by
members of Parhament. I never would consent to
join issue on the question, the only one usually dis
cussed, whether a Jew, or any one else not professing
Christianity, should sit in the House of Commons;
because I regard that as a question which should be
left, in each particular case, to the decision of the
electors. Any one of those who should be disposed,
(as I myself should be,) to give a preference to a can
didate who was not only a professed Christian, but
one whom he believed to be a sincere Christian, and,
moreover, a sound member of om' Church, would be
perfectly consistent in wishing to allow others the
same freedom which he claims for himself. The
electors should be left to choose, unrestricted, the

44 INTRODUCTION.
representative they themselves prefer, except when it
can be shown that some public danger would arise
from leaving them thus unfettered.
Now, in the present case, nothing of this kind was
even alleged. The topics urged were the indecorum
and anomaly of allowing a Jew to obtain a seat in
an Assembly which legislates for our Church ; which
(great though it be) is certainly no greater anomaly
than the admission of Roman Catholics and Dis
senters ; and, again, the ' indifference to Christianity,'
which, it was said, we should manifest if we should
thus 'unchristianize' the Legislature. But those
who urge this topic seem to have forgotten, first, that
they have already, in this sense, ' unchristianized'
the constituency, by allowing to Jews, &c., the elective
franchise; and, secondly, that if removing Jewish
disabilities implies indifference to Christianity, by the
same rule, the non-exclusion of Roman Catholics and
Dissenters must imply indifference to our Church.
If the one is to ' unchristianize' the Legislature, the
other must, no less, " unprotestantize' or 'unchurch'
it. A man may advocate the removal of all religious
disabilities, consistently, and on an intelligible prin
ciple, quite distinct from universal rehgious indiffer-
rence ; but to retain some, by way of proclaiming that
'he is not indifferent, and yet tp allow the removal of
others, is plainly to proclaim indifference as to the
latter. And if this conclusion is to be avoided, it can
only be by retracing our steps, and restoring the test-
laws. This reasoning is so simple and obvious, that, in

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 45
a late debate, it was admitted on the opposite side.
But then, it was urged in reply, that we ought not,
in such a case, to be guided by strict logical deduc
tions, but lay aside the use of our reasoning faculty,
and arrive at a conclusion independently of the clear
est proofs on the other side.
' When reason is against a man,' said Hobbes ,
' he vrill be against reason.' But it may always be
anticipated that reason, when once men have gene
rally understood and allowed on which side it lies,
will, before long, prevail. Error on any point may,
indeed, bear rule for an indefinite time, while un
detected ; but when its real character is fully known,
the days of its reign are numbered. Not that its
practical overthrow is, even then, immediate. Sound
principles must not only be brought into notice, and
clearly explained, but must afterwards be allowed
some time to become familiar to men's minds, before
they will be acted on. The words which Shakspere
puts into the mouth of Dogberry, probably in mere
careless sport, may be taken as a correct description
of what actually takes place in many departments of
hfe ; ' it hath been proved already that you are stark
knaves ; and it will go near to be thought so shortly.'
Adam Smith lived to see his doctrine of free trade
acknowledged to be sound by all the most inteUigent
men ; but it was reserved for another generation to
bring it into practice in legislation. The system of
stocking new colonies with the sweepings of jails,
after having been vainly denounced by Lord Bacon,
and afterwards by Howard, was fully and unanswer-

46 INTRODUCTION.
ably exposed as indefensible about a quarter of a
century ago; and at length there seems reason to
expect that its inexpediency vrill before long be
generaUy and practically admitted. 'It hath been
proved already that the system is utterly bad; and
it wiU go near to be thought so shortly.'
On the present question, though differing from the
Bishop on the whole, I fully concurred with him on one
important point — in his objection to the patchwork-
legislation, as it may be called, which has been repeat
edly attempted ; of bringing in a BiU specifically ' for
the removal of Jewish disabilities ; ' which is noticed
in a letter published in the Memoir (p. 177), in which
he says that ' the measure if entertained at all, ought
to be placed upon another footing; an abolition of
all religious qualifications for civil office.' And this
is the course which I have always advocated in all
that I have said and published on the subject.
The question, as far as relates to the Jews them
selves, (of whom not above three or four would be
likely ever to be returned to Parliament,) is admitted
on all hands to be of very small importance. But
both parties consider the question, and rightly, as
one involving an important principle. Those on the
one side consider the removal of all religious dis-
abflities as implying an indifference to Christianity ;
not perceiving that (as has been pointed out just
above), by their own rule, the law as it now stands
must imply an indifference (which they do not mean
to acknowledge) to Protestantism, and to their own
Church. And those on the other side, reeard civil

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 47
disabilities on religious grounds (when extended to
those who are naturalised, and who are acknowledged
to be peaceable and loyal citizens) as contrary to the
win of our Divine Master, and as tending to make
his a ' kingdom of this world.' They are anxious,
therefore, that the removal (which surely will take place
before long) of such disabilities, should be viewed
not as a triumph over Christianity, but a triumph of
sound Christian principles.
The proper course would be, not to pass ' an Act
for the relief of Jews,' but to substitute (or aUow
to be substituted at the wUl of the Member claiming
a seat) for the present declaration, a solemn pro
fession of loyalty, similar to a Quaker's ' solemn
affirmation.' This would secure, as far as professions can afford
any security, what is admitted to be the main object
— the primary design — of the ' declaration,' which
was intended to be a profession, not of orthodoxy,
but of loyalty; it being only incidentally, and by
what is called a side-wind, that any religious pro
fession, is implied by it.
I believe, indeed, that those (Bishop Copleston
among others) who framed the present declaration,
did contemplate and intend the exclusion of any
persons not professing Christianity. But the far
greater part of those who passed the existing law
(and it is to their views, not merely to those of the
framers, that we should look), were thinking only of
removing restrictions from many who had been before
excluded, and were not thinking at all of a case

48 INTRODUCTION.
which had never then occurred — the election of a
Jew, or a Mussulman. This is acknowledged by
nearly all, even of those who are opposed to the
alteration of the present law.
Bishop Copleston, however, and most of the rest
who framed the declaration in question, would pro
bably have attached little importance now, to the
introduction of the word ' Christian,' if at least
they were aware how fashionable it has become
among a certain transcendental school, to profess a
belief in Christianity, themselves explaining their
meaning to be, that Jesus Christ was a divine mes
senger in the same sense that Socrates, and Con
fucius, and Mahomet, and Oliver Cromwell, and all
other eminent men may be called such; — that the
Gospel-narrative is partly true history, and partly
Myth; — and that our Scriptures contain much valu
able matter, mixed up with much that is absurd
or pernicious.
I am not speaking, it is to be observed, of hypo
critical pretenders ; — of men who profess what they
do not believe. Against such, no one could have
thought of securing us by any form of declaration.
But the persons I am speaking of, are such as frankly
and without disguise explain what they mean when
they call themselves Christians ; which is evidently
something that falls much more short than Judaism
does, of Christianity properly and usually so called.
On this subject I wfll take leave to extract a
passage from the Cautions for the Times, No. 29,
p. 498; the whole of which Number, I may be

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 49
allowed, as I am not myself the writer of it, to cha
racterize as one of the most masterly compositions
in our language. ' No man has a right to call
himself a Christian, if he be not a Christian in the
ordiuary acceptation of the word — if he do not, for
example, beheve that Jesus Christ really rose from
the dead, according to the Scriptures. This common
acceptation of the term Christian will indeed include
many who hold what appear to us very false notions
of Christianity — as, for instance, the Unitarians. But
we must take language as we find it. The true mean
ing of a word is what is commonly understood by it ;
neither more nor less. And to go on any other
ground would involve us in difficulties we could never
get out of.
' There are — to take an obvious instance — months
which are called (most absurdly as far as etymology
goes) September, October, November, December.
Now, would it be allowable to say, on the one hand,
' September is not, and cannot be, the name of the
ninth month, because septem means, in Latin, not nine,
but seven?' Or, on the other hand, ' I mean by
September what you call January; and I have a right
to my own opinion?' So you have, it would be
answered, but not to frame a new language, and call
it Enghsh. ' So it is with the word Christian. We are not jus
tified in denying that title to an Unitarian, on the
ground that he denies what we hold as an essential
doctrine of Christianity. Nor would a Roman-cathohc
be justified in refusing it to aU but members of what

50 INTRODUCTION.
he regards as the only true Church; or a Baptist, to all
except those whom he considers really baptized per
sons. ' But then it is still more monstrous to pretend that
one who denies all Bevelation and aU divine mission
of Jesus Christ, and aU the mu'aculous facts of our
Religion, can be properly styled a Cliristian. A
Christian — whatever any one may conceive the word
ought to mean — does mean, in ordinary speech, neither
more nor less than one who regards Jesus Christ as
the founder of his religidh, and as coming from God.
And if we were to tamper with the ordinary meaning
of the word, we might at once put an end to some
late political disputes, and enable not only Jews but
Mahometans also, to make oath ' on the true faith of
a Christian.' For, etymologicaUy, a Jew may be
called a Christian, since he beheves in a Christ or
Messiah yet to come. And Mahometans go further,
for they believe that Jesus was the promised Messiah,
though they do not regard Him as the Founder of
their rehgion. Might not, then, either Jews or Maho
metans take the declaration to which we have re
ferred, with far greater consistency than those who
are Christians only in the transcendental sense, of be
lieving that Jesus of Nazareth taught, in the main, and
with some blemishes, a pure and beautiful morality —
that the incidents — some real and some imaginary —
of his life were highly picturesque, and the cbcum-
stances of his death very touching — and that He
stands in the same rank of great minds as Pytha
goras, Socrates, and Confucius ? '

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 51
But, absurd and unjustifiable as is this misuse of
language, the fact is notorious, that there are persons
who do acknowledge that they mean by Christianity
something quite remote from the Christian rehgion,
in the estabhshed sense of the word, and indeed from
all religion of any kind. And when this is the case,
and is known to be so, a declaration ' on the true
faith of a Christian,' must evidently be, as far as
the religious portion of it is concerned, altogether
nugatory.

On the questions that have been raised relative to
the Sabbath, there is nothing of Bishop Copleston's
extant in print, except a Report, in Hansard, of a
Speech (alluded to in the Memoir, pp. 151-2, as a
defence of an absent friend unjustly assailed) which,
however, is so ill-reported as to be nearly unin
telligible; though, when spoken, it was remarkably
effective. *
There is also a brief Article relating to the subject,
in the Common-Place Book. But I have had much
conversation with him on the subject, in which our
views fully coincided ; and it was he who first directed
my attention to some of the works noticed in my
Thoughts on the Sabbath. No Works, indeed,
of these authors, or of any other uninspired men,
are any authority on questions of christian duty;

* It drew from the assailant a pretended retractation, which was
in reality a repetition of the same calumny, dressed up anew, and
afterwards printed and published.

52 INTRODUCTION.
but they enable us to trace the rise and progress of
some prevailing opinions. All persons, indeed, eveij
tolerably acquainted with the Bible and Prayer Book,
are aware, that in neither is the Lord's Day ever
called the Sabbath. But many are not aware of
the extremely recent origin of what Calvin called the
'Anglican figment' — the tradition (nearly unknown
for the first fifteen centuries, and more) of the com
mandment respecting the Sabbath having been trans
ferred by the authority of the Apostles from the
seventh day of the week to the first; though, even
now, in all Latin documents (such as the Parlia
mentary proceedings), 'Lies Sabbati' always means
Saturday.* Of course this is not the place for entering on a
discussion of the questions which I have fully treated
of elsewhere. I wiU only remark, therefore, that
though I do not differ from those who maintain what
are called the Sabbatarian views, as to the duty of
observing the Lord's Day, but only as to the grounds
of it, it is no difficult matter for an unscrupulous
disputant to confound these two questions together
(as was done in the debate alluded to), and thus
to mislead those of his hearers (probably four-fifths
of them) who have never read what I have published
on the subject, and will, therefore, fail to detect the
misrepresentation .
My reasons for dwelling earnestly on a point which
some would regard as of no practical importance, I

* As, also, Sabbato in Italian, and Sabbado in Spanish.

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 53
have fidly explained in the Work above alluded to.
If any one, when asserting the binding authority on
Christians of the fourth Commandment, means only
(which is the explanation given in the book commonly
called Cranmers Catechism), to assert the duty,
generaUy, of observing christian Festivals, and that
the Lord's Day may be called the Sabbath, figura
tively, by the same sort of analogy by which the
Eucharist may be called the Passover, this is a doc
trine in itself unobjectionable. But it is surely dan
gerous to hold, or to teach as something expedient
for the influencing of the Vulgar, that a (supposed)
tradition may be allowed to supersede Scripture, or
that we are strictly obeying an injunction to observe
the seventh day of the week as the seventh, and in
memory of the Creation, by observing, instead, ihe first
day as the first, in memory of the Besurrection.
There is no greater or more unwarrantable liberty taken
with a divine command, by the Romanists, in ad
ministering the bread without the cup, or by the
Quakers, in professing to celebrate the Sacraments
after discarding, the material Symbols ; or, in short,
in any other unauthorised modification of precepts
acknowledged to be binding.
Some, again, will be not unlikely to feel a general
suspicion of the sincerity of teachers, who they wiU have
reason to think are practising a kind of pious fraud for
the supposed benefit of ignorant hearers, by inducing
these to think, when they themselves know better, that
the fourth Commandment is binding on Christians, and
that its obligation was transferred by apostolic autho-.

54 INTRODUCTION.
rity to the first day of the week, and to the com
memoration of a different event. For he who is rea
sonably suspected of a pious fraud, must not wonder
or complain if he finds himself doubted on points
where he is really sincere. The only rational and
the only safe alternative is, either to observe the fourth
Commandment exactly as it was given, or else to ac
knowledge that this, as well as the rest of the Cere
monial Law, is not binding on Christians.
According to the Proverb which Lord Bacon has
somewhere alluded to, ' Nettle-roofe ' sting not. The
first entrance of some false principle, or of some usurped
power, is generaUy in reference to something either
harmless, or else unimportant ; and when the root has
once got possession of the soil, it wiU afterwards send
up stronger and stronger shoots. Thus, the claims of
Papal Rome originated in the natural deference felt
for the Church of an imperial City, and a disposition
to consult that Church on various questions that
arose. And when this had grown into an estabhshed
custom, and the decisions of Rome, when right, or
when relating to matters of minor consequence, were
appealed to as decisive, the thin end had been inserted
of the wedge which was gradually driven in further,
tiU at length the Pope came to be regarded as Christ's
Vicegerent on earth.

It would not be right, I think, to leave altogether
unnoticed the part taken by the Bishop on that
memorable occasion, the attack made on Dr. Hamp-

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 55
den when appointed Regius Professor of Divinity.
It will not be necessary, however, to enter here on
any complete narrative of the facts, or any fuU discus
sion of the questions connected with that extraordi
nary transaction ; more especiaUy as I have already
done this in an Address to my own Clergy some years
ago,* on~the occasion of a fresh attack made on Dr.
Hampden when he was elevated to the Bench. But
Bishop Copleston's open and prompt declaration that
he saw no grounds whatever for the imputation of
heterodoxy which had been cast on Dr. Hampden,
deserves to be recorded as presenting so strong a
contrast, as unhappily it does, to the conduct of very
many others.
Dr. Hampden, as most of my readers are pro
bably aware, after having gained the highest distinc
tions the University has to bestow, and filled the
most important offices in it, gave great offence to
several of its members, by the publication of a pamph
let advocating the admissibility (as in the University
of Dublin) of persons not members of the Estabhshed
Church. The displeasure this caused was so great
that a person whom the late Lord Melbourne, then
Premier, consulted as to the appointment of a Pro
fessor, thought himself bound, after setting forth the
eminent qualifications of Dr. Hampden, to warn his
Lordship that the appointment of him would be any
thing but popular at Oxford.
Lord Melbourne, however, resolved to disregard
* The Church and the Universities.

56 INTRODUCTION.
this ; and as soon as the appointment was announced,
an outbreak ensued to which the history of this coun
try can hardly furnish a parallel. A number of per
sons (several of whom have since joined the Church
of Rome), professing emphatically ' Church-princi
ples,' assembled in a kind of self-constituted synod,
and denounced a brother-minister of their own
Church as heretical ;* and ultimately induced the
Oxford Convocation to pass a vote which there is
strong reason to believe was utterly illegal, though
the apprehension of ruinous expenses prevented the
question being brought to trial.
Their charge was directed against Dr. Hampden's
Bampton Lectures, which had been delivered three
years before — which had been two years published —
which had obtained very high and general approba-

* Of the party which at that time was just beginning to be
organised under the guidance of a certain band of ' conspirators' (this
is the term applied to them by one of their own number), the course
has always been, (1) to profess excessive submission to the authority
of the Church, and veneration for Bishops ; who were thus likely to
be deceived into the belief that this Party would prove a faithful
and obedient, though perhaps somewhat over-zealous supporter ; (2) to
represent the Church as consisting of themselves and their adherents ;
coming forward on various occasions (as lately, in reference to Bishop
Gobat) in an unauthorised and irregular manner, to pronounce deci
sions where they were not entitled to any jurisdiction ; and (3) to
treat all their brother-ministers, and especially all bishops, who did not
agree with them, sometimes with utter neglect, and sometimes with
the grossest insolence. (See Cautions for the Times, No. 17, p. 328.
See, also. The Church and the Universities, secoiid edition.) They
remind one of Addison's ' Tory Freeholder,' who declared, ' I am for
passive obedience and non-resistance ; and I will oppose to the ut
most any Ministry and any King that will not maintain that doc
trine.'

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 57
tion, and against which no specific charge had ever
been brought (nor has been to this day) before either
the Bishop of the Diocese or the University-authorities
expressly appointed to take cognizance of such com
plaints. Moreover, he had in that interval been
appointed to the Headship of Mary Hall by the
Chancellor, without the" least hint of an objection;
and had been elected Professor of Moral Philosophy,
an office which is in the appointment of certain Func
tionaries in the University, of whom several, two
years after, took the lead in the censures passed on
the very publication for which they had themselves
applauded and rewarded him !
And a person of high station in the Church, in
passing through Oxford, called at Dr. Hampden's
rooms at Mary-Hall, with an apology for introducing
himself, for the purpose, as he said, of thanking him,
on his own behalf, and that of the Church, for his
valuable services in producing so excellent a work ;
the very work which that same person, within two
years after, fiercely denounced as heterodox.
When, on a late occasion, the highest Authorities
of the Church of Rome in Ireland publicly denounced
as heterodox, books which had been deliberately
sanctioned and recommended for the use of schools,
by equally high Authorities of the same Church, and
which had been many years in use under that sanc
tion by thousands of their Communion,* this was
naturally regarded as a most extraordinary piece of

* See Add/ress on the Proceedings of the Education Board, 1853.

58 INTRODUCTION.
effrontery. But stiU, it was not the very same indi
viduals that gave these opposite decisions. The change
took place, indeed, in a Church which boasts of being
unchangeable, but not in the individual members of
it. The case now before us, therefore, goes a step
even beyond this.
I purposely abstain from mentioning the names
of the persons concerned in those most extraordinary
transactions relating to Dr. Hampden; unless, indeed,
I should be challenged to verify facts, which I should
be easily able to do, and, therefore, do not expect
that I shall be so called on. And I should be un
willing in any way to stir up the embers of any
bye-gone and forgotten contest. But this is unhap
pily very far from being such. The acts into which
the University — especially that portion of it consisting
of the non-residents — was then led (and which have
never been to this day formally rescinded), gave a
most effective and powerful stimulus to that Tract-
party, whose principles have since spread so widely,
and struck such deep root, and are bearing such
abundant fruits.
A letter of mine to Bishop Copleston on this sub
ject, written at the time, is now before me; from
which I will take the liberty of here inserting an
extract, as serving to show how distinctly most of the
consequences which have since taken place were fore
seen nearly twenty years ago.
' Of the condition of the Church, I am sorry to
say I cannot take a cheering view. It is injured and
endangered, not only, by enemies from without, but.

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 59
much more, by its own members. Open enemies
can seldom effect anything, at the very worst, except
against its outward worldly prosperity ; but its own
members endanger it not only as an endowed establish-
raent, but as a Christian society.
'And the worst of it is, that none go so far in
striking at the very root of all discipline, and of aU
church-unity, and even of the very existence of the
Society, as those who are emphaticaUy styled high-
churchmen; who declaim the most loudly against
schism, and profess to pay more reverence than most
Protestants would allow, to church-authority, and
church-tradition. Yet these are the very men who,
as if they gloried in inconsistency, go the greatest
lengths in schismatical proceedings.
' And, then, they complain that the Church is
despised, and is in danger. Well it may be, when
they exhibit the spectacle of its being trampled on
by the very men who profess themselves its most
zealous advocates. For instance, what sort of effect
is likely to have been produced in the pubhc mind
by the late proceedings at Oxford in reference to
Hampden ? I wUl suppose the whole matter viewed
by unlearned men, of plain common sense, who may
not think of disputing the point whether Hampden's
doctrine is as unsound as it has been represented.
Without pretending to decide any deep theological
question, they must perceive that any such question
ought to be (as far as the Church is concerned) de
cided by the Church ; by the Bishop, or the Arch
bishop, or by some sort or other of regular eccle-

60 INTRODUCTION.
siastical authority; not by any individual or any
number of individuals ; taking upon themselves to be
accuser, witness, judge, jury, and executioner, all in
one ; and, by their own self-constituted authority, to
denounce and stigmatise a brother-clergyman. I am
supposing Hampden to be just what these men
represent him. If, then, there is nowhere any con
stituted Authority competent to take cognizance of
this charge, — no ecclesiastical tribunal of any kind
to pass a regular censure on a grave ecclesiastical
offence, it is plain the Church is a mere empty name,
and is no Society at aU. But if there be any such
ecclesiastical Authority, it is equally plain that those
who utterly set it at nought, and not only neglect, but
refuse, when caUed upon, to make any application to
such Authority, are sapping the very foundation of the
Society. 'When Luddites, or Rockites, or Whitefeet, or
Trades-unionists, or any other self-constituted Combi
nation, take upon themselves to pronounce judgment,
and to execute it, or any of their neighbours, setting at
nought aU lawful authorities, every one sees that, even
if any individual they punish should be reaUy deserving
of punishment at the hands of the magistrate, stiU,
they are not the less striking at the very root of social
order. They are not merely, hke thieves and other
wrong-doers, disturbing the peace and welfare of
society ; but they are destroying society itself.
' And so it must be with a religious or any other
society. The conduct of the Corinthians, whom Paul
censures so strongly for banding together in parties to

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 61
excommunicate their brethren, went to subvert the
Corinthian Church. Our Church, accordingly, besides
insisting strongly, in the Ordination-vow, and on the
duty of submission to the Church authorities, and of
endeavouring to preserve ' peace and quietness,' has
also enacted a Canon against ' public opposition be
tween preachers ; ' a Canon which might seem almost
superfluous, as being implied in the very existence of
a Church. It adverts, you vrill remember, to the
manifold evils resulting from public contests, and
passes a censure on any one who, in the pulpit ' or
otherioise' (as, for instance, in pamphlets or other
printed papers), shaU presume to denounce as here
tical a sermon delivered by any other preacher. And
the Ordinary is directed to take cognizance of any
such proceeding, and to permit neither party to
preach 'pendente hte.'
' The spirit of this Canon is implied in the very
existence of a society. Any plain Christian, without
pretending to deep theological learning, may perceive
that a ' kingdom divided against itself is brt)ught to
desolation.' ' If a clergyman, accordingly, in my diocese should
presume to denounce publicly another clergyman as
teaching doctrines essentially at variance with those of
the Church, I should feel at once that they ought not,
both of them, to continue ministers of the Church ;
but, before I proceeded to investigate the chai'ge, I
should, in the first instance, severely reprimand the
author of it for not having brought his complaint be
fore me ; and for having done his utmost, in disre-

62 INTRODUCTION.
gard of his Ordination-vow, to set at nought the
authority he had sworn to reverence, and to intro
duce discord and schism, in place of ' quietness,
peace, and unity.' And I should point out to him,
that any one who openly quits the Church and be
comes a Dissenter, even on grounds that I might
think frivolous, is acting a far less schismatical, and a
more ingenuous and more consistent part than one
who remains in the Church to throw contempt on its
Authorities, and to sow dissension among its members.
' Of this character, I need not remind you, were the
late proceedings at Oxford. When, after two or three
years from the delivery of Hampden's sermons, the
heresy of them was discovered, on his becoming
obnoxious to a particular academical and pohtical
party, on an academical question, there issued forth a
stream of pamphlets and protests, and newspaper
attacks, denouncing him as at variance with the
Church of which he was a minister ; aU the authors
of them studiously avoiding any kind of reference to
any ecclesiastical tribunal, — to any Church-authority.
On the basis of this ' pubhc opposition between
preachers' rested aU the subsequent steps taken by
the University. Now, supposing aU that was said
against Hampden to be true, and to have been
expressed in the most christian-hke and gentleman
like manner, it is evident the whole proceeding is in
the highest degree schismatical, and subversive of
Church-authority ; if, at least, there be any such thing
as schism, and any such thing as a Church.
' I do not mean to impute such designs to all who

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 63
joined in these transactions. I am aware that in
such cases there are always two classes of men con
cerned, the misleaders and the misled. But alas, that
so many hundreds of the clergy should be of the
latter class, if not of the former ! That those who by
their office should be instructors of the ignorant and
guides to the blind, should so conduct themselves
that the best one can say of them is, that they know
not what they do, ajad are made the servile tools of
factious schismatics 1 Too late, I fear, wfll they dis
cover that in their eagerness to stigmatise an
obnoxious individual, and embarrass an abhorred
Ministry, they have been afironting the Church, and
endangering both it and the University to a far
greater degree than any avowed enemy could have
done.' The effects of the Tract-party had previously been
but feeble and unsuccessful. Dr. Hampden's Bampton
Lectures had indeed been attacked in a pamphlet,
entitled The Foundations of the Faith assailed at
Oxford, written by a person who has since made
manifest what faith he had in his mind by openly
joining the Church of Rome; but it attracted httle
notice. When, however, a great number of persons had
been led to beheve that the real object of the move
ment was some heterodoxy (which they took upon
trust), in those Bampton Lectures, and that they were
doing good service to the Church in joining to hunt
down the author, it naturaUy foUowed that a large

64 INTRODUCTION.
portion of them continued to place fuU confidence in
those whom they had observed to be the leaders in
this crusade. And accordingly they hstened favom--
ably to the Tracts which soon after were poured forth
with such rapidity, and with so much art ; and were
led on, step by step, to adopt such tenets as they
would originaUy have shrunk from in dismay.
Many others, however, who had at first eagerly
welcomed as feUow-labourers in a good cause those
that were especiaUy active against Dr. Hampden, per
ceived, rather too late, what kind of auxiliaries they
had caUed in. And then they earnestly, but not very
successfuUy, endeavoured to put down that party
which they had themselves fostered into strength and
popularity. The little birds — according to the pro
verb — which are vainly chasing about the fuU-grown
cuckoo, had themselves reared it as a nestling.
I could not avoid making some reference to this
painful subject, because, else it might have seemed
almost a disparagement to a man of the Bishop's high
character, to mention, as a matter of commendation,
that he publicly declared the conviction he felt, of the
soundness of Dr. Hampden's theology. This — some
one might say — is no more than mere common ho
nesty. But the occasion was one in which men were
liable to be deterred — as many in fact were — by the
fear of obloquy, from taking that straightforward
course. And, accordingly, among the countless pamphlets
on the subject which appeared at that time, there was
one, — a letter to Lord Melbourne, — which, referring

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 65
to Bishop Copleston's declared opinion of Dr. Hamp
den's work, expressed a conviction that he could never
have read it !
It was rather startling, and seemed to indicate no
very high tone of moral sentiment, to find such an
imputation thrown out against a person of unblem
ished integrity ; and that, too, with the air of one not
intending any reproach. But it should be observed,
that of those who did join in condemning Dr. Hamp
den as heterodox, a very large majority had, noto
riously and confessedly, never read his book. And a
verdict of acquittal without evidence, is at least one
degree less worthy of abhorrence than a verdict of
condemnation of a man unheard.
Such was the tone of morality which was at that
time tolerated, and prevalent, in a Christian land !
From the Tract-party itself the Bishop appears to
have entertained for some time much less serious ap
prehensions than experience afterwards showed there
was ground for. He seems to have thought, in com
mon with many other intelligent men, that there was
little or nothing in the whole of that movement be
yond some fanciful speculations in theory, which would
soon cease to have attraction for any one, and, in
practice, a mere puerile attachment to martinet for
malities. And, accordingly, in a letter (printed in
the Memoir, p. 486) of the date of 1844, he speaks of
' that folly being on the wane.' At that very time,
however, the principles of the Tracts were more and
more developing themselves, and spreading daily wider

66 INTRODUCTION.
through the Church, and striking deeper and deeper
root. But I have found it to be the policy of many of
the most subtle members of that party, to represent
that there had been indeed some extravagances, which
were now, however, abandoned ; that there had been a
danger, but that it was now nearly blown over, and
that aU would soon come right, &c. And this lan
guage was often echoed by well-disposed men, and
not wanting in intelligence, who had been themselves
luUed by such arts into a dangerous security; like
the Trojans of the poet, who flattered themselves that
the Grecian host had finally departed, when it was
lying concealed hard by, and was just about to cap
ture their city.
Although, however, the Bishop did, for a time (in
common with many others), under-rate greatly the
extent of the prevalence of Tractite-principles, and
was not, at first, fully aware of the real character of
those principles, he never wavered at all in his judg
ment as to the points themselves that were at issue,
nor hesitated to declare his convictions.
'The double doctrine,' — the suppression, or 're
serve,' as it is caUed, of the fundamental truths of
Christianity, as a secret to be imparted only to a select
few, and to be kept back from the great mass of
Christians; — the exalting of human traditions, prac-
ticaUy, to a level with the inspired writings; — the
conferring on Christian ministers the character of
' sacerdotal ' [hieratical] priests, offering sacrifices on
behalf of the People ; these, and several other points

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 67
appertaining to the controversy between the Tract-
party and theu* opponents, we often discussed toge
ther, both in conversation and in writing. On all
these points I do not recoUect that there was ever any
material difference in our views. And my readers
will have already seen how far I am from wishing to
suppress those of his opinions which did differ from
my own.
It happened at a time when he was Provost, and I
a Fellow of our College, a good many years before
the Tract-party arose, that the preacher of a uni
versity-sermon, in advocating the necessity of a regu
larly-appointed Christian-ministry, was hurried away
by an inconsiderate zeal, into an expression savoming
of Romanism. ' Every sacrifice,' he said, ' required
a Priest ; and the Christian sacrifice (he was speaking
of the Eucharist) must, therefore, require a Christian
Priest.' I was so much scandalised at this doctrine,
that I immediately told the Provost I could not think
the matter ought to pass unnoticed ; especially as it
was understood that the sermon was to be published,
thereby involving the University, apparently at least,
in some degree of responsibility. To have waited for
two years (as Dr. Hampden's opponent did) after
the publication, without making any remonstrance,
and then to have assembled a self-constituted synod
of private individuals, and denounced the preacher as
heterodox, would have been a mode of proceeding
not at aU consonant to my ideas of propriety, and
would have been, at tliat time, unprecedented.
Dr. Copleston fuUy concurred in my view of the
F 2

68 INTRODUCTION.
subject, but being unwilling to cause an agitation, if
it could be weU avoided, in the public mind, by at
once bringing a charge of heterodoxy before the
regular tribunal, he wrote a private note to the
preacher, stating how much offence had been given
(and as he thought, reasonably,) by that passage of
his sermon. He received a reply, thanking him for
the admonition, and promising that the passage
should be (as it accordingly was) entirely expunged.
On another occasion, an article on Priestcraft hav
ing appeared in the Edinburgh Beview, in which
the writer, ostensibly attacking the Braminical reli
gion, but evidently applying, with some ingenuity,
all that he says, to every religion, including the
Christian, represents aU as the offspring of priest
craft, I was induced to allude to these views, in
a discourse delivered before the University, on the
5th of November, and since published. In this, I set
forth what has always appeared to me the correct
view of the Christian-ministry, thus converting all
that is said about priestcraft, from an argument
against Christianity into a powerful evidence for it ;
inasmuch, it is the only religion that had (at the
time when it was introduced) no sacrificing priest
(sacerdos, or hiereus) on Earth ; and is such, conse
quently, as Man would never have devised.
This discourse was submitted to Dr. Copleston,
who fully concurred in the views there taken.
These views I have since set forth and enlarged
on, in various publications; among others, in the
volume of Essays on the Kingdom of Christ,

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 69
which he noticed with approbation in a letter (pub
lished in the Memoir, p. 194), wherein he says,
' I have now finished your fourth edition of the
Kingdom of Christ, which strikes me as the most
valuable, at the present time, of aU your publications,
because it goes to the bottom of those questions
which divide members of our Church, &c.' And
a little further on, he says, ' I agree with you
entirely as to the false notion entertained by many
of our own Church, of the Apostolical succession,
— the transmission of a mysterious virtue from one
individual to another.' This latter passage is printed
with a note by the Editor, saying, ' this wUl not be
understood as denying that a sacramental character
attaches to Ordination.' I cannot but think, how
ever, that it mil be so understood ; because a reader
will naturally conclude a writer's meaning to be just
what his words express in their simple, ordinary, and
obvious sense, except when some other passage from
the same writer is produced, showing that his
opinion was something different. And in the present
case there is none such cited ; nor did I ever see or
hear any expression of his that could lead me to
think he regarded Ordination as a Sacrament, or at
all objected to the natural and obvious sense of what
is said on the subject in our 25th Article.
WhUe I am on this subject, I ought not to omit
adverting to a most important transaction in which
the Bishop took a prominent part; more especiaUy
as it was the last matter of any consequence (apart

70 INTRODUCTION.
from the mere routine duties of office) in which he
was concerned.
A letter was addressed to the Vice-ChanceUor of
Oxford by a prelate of our Church, inquiring whether
it was to be understood that the University sanctioned
the educating of young men in such doctrines, and
such principles, as were set forth in a recent work
caUed The Jdeal of a Church ; and if not, whether
it ought to be aUowed that those intrusted with the
business of education should openly inculcate these
Romish tenets, teaching their disciples at the same
time, both by precept and example, to subscribe to
the formularies of our Church ' in a non-natural
sense.' ' If such a state of things (it was urged) is
to be permitted to continue, it must foUow that an
Oxford-degree would be regarded by Bishops apphed
to for Ordination, not as a recommendation of a
candidate, but rather as a presumption against his
soundness, and a reason for caUing on him to clear
himself from suspicion. And aUusion was made to
a case which had occurred a good many years ago,
when a tract inculcating Atheism having been traced
to certain individuals, they were immediately ex-
peUed. Now the existing case, it was observed, was
a much stronger one. For the doctrines of the book
in question are as decidedly opposed to those of the
Enghsh Church, as those of Atheism ; and they are
incomparably more dangerous, as being more likely
to make converts. The tone of morahty also is far
lower than that of the Atheistical tract ; for the
writers of that did not advise men to feign behef.

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 71
and to subscribe to formularies in ' a non-natural
sense.' And above aU, bemg only undergraduates, not
FeUows and CoUege-tutors, their influence was hkely
to be comparatively insignificant, and their extrava
gances did not near so much involve the character
of the University.
Soon after the transmission of this letter, whether
in consequence of it or not, the matter was taken up
by the University.
By a vote of Convocation, carried by a very large
majority, a censure was passed on Mr. Ward's book.
And by another vote, carried, however, by a smaUer
majority, he was deprived of his Degree. But he
was stUl aUowed to remain a member of the Univer
sity ; and did so, I beheve, tiU the time of his open
secession to the Church of Rome.
It is my own behef (as I have ah'eady said), and
that of the most inteUigent and best-informed persons
with whom I have conversed, that the terrible con
flicts which took place then, and on some other
occasions, at Oxford, were in no smaU degree occa
sioned by the original attack made on Dr. Hampden
through the encouragement thus afforded to the Tract-
party ; whose audacity could hardly have reached
such a pitch, but for that early encouragement.
Those who, like the horse in the fable, seeking aid
against his enemy the stag, had aUowed an insidious
ally to mount, and to put his bit into their mouth,
found it afterwards no easy matter to unseat him.
The Convocation .which censured Dr. Hampden

72 INTRODUCTION.
' sowed the vrind,' and their successors ' reaped the
whirlwind.' The cause of the majority being so much smaUer
for the degradation of Mr. Ward than for the cen
sure, was, that very many persons thought expulsion
vrithout degradation would have been the appropriate
sentence. A man of nice feehngs of honour, they
observed, would spontaneously withdraw from the
University, or any other Church of England Body,
as soon as he found that he could not conscientiously
adhere to the principles, or the system, of that
Church. And any one thus opposed to the Church,
who, being of less dehcate feehngs, fails so to with
draw, ought to be removed from the Body by its
own act.
This is the view which I laid before the Bishop,
(who had taken a prominent and most zealous part
in the proceedings aUuded to,) as accounting for a
course which some had been disposed to attribute
to lukewarmness.
On this subject he says to me (in a letter written
at the time), 'I agree with you entirely as to the
degradation instead of the expulsion of Ward :' and,
again, in another, 'My opinion about the Oxford
affair is soon _ told. They ought to have expelled
Ward, and condemned Tract 90. But the times
are rotten;' &c.
This was in answer to a letter of mine, urging, in
vindication of those who had voted against the degra
dation, that they considered such a sentence, instead
of expulsion, as placing the University in a false

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 73
position ; ' implying that a man who, from being
hostile to the Church, was disqualified for being a
graduate, might stiU be allowed to be a member;
though no officer in the Army would be, for treason,
reduced to the ranks, but either acquitted, or dis
missed.' In a letter about the same time, I aUuded to his
Charge of 1845 (from which some extracts are given
in the Memoir, p. 249), then lately pubhshed,
observing, ' You wUl have done good service by
this timely public protest against Tractism. The
alarm which the recent open secessions from the
Church have excited, offers, I think, a fitting oppor
tunity for warning men against the more insidious
remnants of ' Catihne's ' conspirators who have not
yet left the city.' As for those who have spoken out
at last, and whom I should have considered as at
least honest if they had seceded to Rome ten years
earlier, one may apply to them a passage of Demos
thenes, which I remember reading with you forty
years ago ; ' those who now took the liberty to utter
their real sentiments {av k^povovv "Ka^ovTas aSeiav),
we regarded as having been enemies indeed, long
since, but then, open enemies.'
' The whole phenomenon of Tractism is, indeed, as
you observe (in p. 20, of the Charge), one which
some years ago no one could have anticipated. But
how many there were who did not anticipate it even
when actuaUy begun, and when my lamented friend.
Bishop Dickinson, clearly pointed it out, in that

74 INTRODUCTION.
pamphlet reprinted in the volume which I sent you.*
My remarks on the subject, in the additions to the
Introduction to the first Series of Essays (which I
sent you some weeks ago), were pubhshed before
Nevraian's secession ; which, however, was then
anticipated.' The whole subject of the Tract-movement is of
such high importance, and an importance which, so
far from being on the wane, is daUy increasing, that
I thought it would not be doing justice to the
Bishop's memory to omit putting on record his views
as to the several points at issue. And for this reason
I subjoin some extracts (to which more might have
been added, of simUar tone) from a few more of his
letters to me. ' You ask me,' he says, in a letter
of December, 1843, 'what I thought were Newman's
motives for resigning St. Mary's. I can only guess,
that he found he had gone too far to retract; that
' returning were as bad as going over ; ' and that he
is prepared to take this the only honest course. I
want to see the poison brought to a head, and ex-
peUed from the system.'
In the same letter, he notices a printed paper sent
over from New York, relative to the ordination there
of a person against whom a protest had been made,
on account of his having professed tenets such as
are advocated in some of the Tracts for the Tim.es.
' As to the New York affair,' he writes, ' I had the
* Remains of Bishop Dickinson, edited by Dr. West.

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 75
statement of Drs. Anthon and Smith sent to me
some time in August or September. I read it through
with attention, and, 1 may add, with astonishment;
astonishment that such a case as Gary's ordination
could have been sanctioned, not only by an American
bishop, but by the majority of the Presbytery who
assisted him. I read it a second time, and marked
certain passages, which, if unrefuted, seemed to me
decisive of the point that the American Episcopal
Church is no longer Protestant, but Popish. You
have put this in a demonstrative form, with your
usual perspicuity and force. I thought, indeed, that
some proceedings must soon be had in their Convo
cation, on the subject ; and I entertained a hope that
the ordination would be condemned by a CouncU, and
the Bishop censured. Since that time it had gone
out of my mind. * * * * I rejoice, however,
that you have taken up this matter, and that you
write to Dr. McVickar as a friend. He will, at
least, give you some authentic information as to the
state of opinion and feehng in their Church, and the
measures hkely to be taken in consequence.'
It may be necessary here to explain that the letter to
Dr. McVickar, aUuded to by the Bishop, and of which
I had sent him a copy, was one of inquiry respecting
that ordmation against which Drs. Anthon and Smith
had protested, and at which Dr. McVickar had
assisted. As I had several times permitted American
clergymen to preacl^in this ''diocese, I felt bound offi-
ciaUy to make this inquiry, that T might judge how
far this could safely and properly be done.

76 INTRODUCTION.
The answer I received was very brief, treating the
matter shghtly, and offering no explanation or vindi
cation of the transaction. This answer I communi
cated, — with a remark on the absence of vindication,
— to one of the American bishops with whom I was
acquainted; and who afterwards made it pubhc,
(along with other documents,) as a proof that no
defence had been offered of the proceedings com
plained of.
I received no further direct communication from
Dr. ]\IcVickar; but an Article with his name ap
peared in an American newspaper, charging me with
a breach of confidence, in giving publicity to a private
and confidential letter — a letter of introduction sent
by a Mend, in which he had incidentally mentioned
the transaction in question. This statement, how
ever, he qualified by saying, ' if I recoUect rightly,'
or words to that effect. But this statement, of whose
accuracy he did not even profess to feel certain, yet on
which he foimded a most severe censure, is totally
unfounded! I did indeed receive from him a letter of intro
duction sent by a private friend previously to my
letter of inquiry ; but it contained no mention at all
of the ordination at New York. And I also received
from him, by post, another letter, in answer to mine,
and relating entirely to that transaction. My letter
to him was written in my official capacity, to inquire
into the particulars of a public t^nsaction, in which
he had, officiaUy, taken part, and which might affect
my official conduct in reference to the j\Iinisters of

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 77
his Church. And his answer — which was not marked
as private — had reference entirely to that most em
phaticaUy pubhc transaction.
Now, I cannot but think that a person of a very nice
sense of honour, or having a large share of christian
charity, would never bring a heavy charge against
another on a confessedly doubtful recoUection, but
would carefuUy ascertain the true state of the fact.
But if any one did find that he had, through a slip
of memory, brought forward a groundless charge, he
would, if he had a spark of honesty, take the earhest
opportunity of pubhcly retracting it.
Whether Dr. McVickar has ever done so tlirough
the American press, I know not. Nothing of the
kind has come to my knowledge.*

* Happening to have at hand the private letter which Dr. McVickar
alludes]^to, I have thought it best to print it entire, as a proof how
utterly at variance with fact is his account of its contents : —
'Col. Coll., New York, 27th Oct., 1843.
' My dear Sir,
' In forwarding to you by the present conveyance copies
of the Atnerican republication of your late work, permit me to in
troduce to you also, my brother-in-law, Judge Jay, who with his
family are on a journey of health to Europe and the East. The only
other works of yours republished with us are the Rhetoric and Logic,
copies of which I will forward hereafter. They are reprinted in
Boston. I use them in my college classes, and find them admirable.
A little more of method would perhaps facilitate the study to
younger students. I regret having given you trouble for nothing in
the case of the French family, but am not the less indebted to you
for your kindness. You may remember a poor family of 'Wheeler'
you introduced to my care some years since. Their history would
furnish a good narrative of the opening afforded in our country to
industry and good management. One son is recorder of the capital
of one of our Western States. The copies of.your Essay forwarded to

78 INTRODUCTION.
In reference to some other of the distinguishing
tenets and practices of the Tract-Party, I may mention
that on the occasion of my sending him the essay
on ' Self-Denial' (the concluding one in the later
editions of the essays of the second series), he says,
' I have read it with much satisfaction, feehng that I
was instructed in doctrine, and furnished with cogent
reasons, on many points, for the opinion I had enter
tained, but could not have adequately defended.'
In another letter he says, ' I have read with deep
interest Dr. West's sermon on ' Beserve,' preached at
your Ordination last September.'
Some apology may be necessary for pubhshing pas
sages so laudatory of myself; and it m^y, perhaps,
be considered an insufficient apology to say, that
there is much more of the same, kind which I have
for that very reason suppressed. But I felt that I
could not do justice to the Bishop without stating in
his own words his opinions on several important ques
tions. And as far as these words have reference to
myself, the reader AviU, doubtless, make due aUowance
for the partiahty naturaUy felt by a former Tutor to a
pupU who had been so assiduously trained by him.

me I distributed according to directions. To Mr. Jay I refer you
with confidence for all information you may desire touchino- our
social and political state. As the only surviving son of John Jay of
our Revolution, his name and family are already familiar.
' Believe, me,
' Very respectfully and truly,
' Your friend and servant,
' John McVickar.'
' Richard Whately, D.D., (fee, &c.'

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 79
and who has always gratefuUy attributed whatever
distinction he has attained, in a great degree to that
training. And should any reader be disposed to attri
bute undue partiahty to either of us, he wUl at least
have perceived, from the foregoing pages, that \^ith
flattery, properly so caUed, neither of us is diargeable,
since we did not hesitate, in those few instances where
we did not agree in opinion, to avow and to act upon
each his own comiction.

In reference to one point connected with Church-
authority and general councils, I wfll take leave to
insert here a passage in which I have cited his words
from an unpubhshed Lecture dehvered in Oriel CoUege
Chapel. Two of the Lectures written by him for that
course are printed in this volume. But the one from
which the extract was made I have not thought it
worth whUe to print, as the rest of it contains httle or
nothing but what is to be found in other works : —
' The authority on which we rest our conviction of
the genuineness of the New Testament Scriptures, is
of the same kind, though incomparably strojiger in
degree. For it is not to the Roman world in its
widest acceptation, but to the literary portion of it,
that we appeal, in respect of any volume of the
Classics. On the contrary, the Christian Scriptures
were addressed to aU classes (the doctrine of what is
caUed 'Reserve' — of putting the hght of the Gospel
under a bushel — being no part of the apostohc sys-

80 INTRODUCTION.
tem) ; so that probably for one reader of Cicero or Livy
there were more than fifty persons, — even in a very
early period of the Church, — anxious to possess
copies of the New Testament Scriptures, and careful,
in proportion to the high importance of the subject,
as to the genuineness and accuracy of what they read.
On this point I wiU take the liberty of citing the words
of an eminent writer (Bishop Copleston), from an un
published discourse dehvered a good many years ago at
Oxford in a course of lectures. . . ' Nothing is more
remarkable in Christianity than the care and anxiety
with which the early Christians examined the preten
sions of any writing to be received as the work of an
Apostle. This wiU also account for the interval of
time which elapsed before aU the books of the Canon
became generaUy received. It does not indeed appear
that the genuineness of any of the four Gospels was
ever doubted ; but the Epistles, being addressed to par
ticular Churches, and at various times, it must have
required for one of these some interval before its com
munication could take place throughout every country
in which the Gospel was preached, accompanied by
such evidence as should be satisfactory to every other
Church. ... As soon as can be supposed possible,
the Christians of aU countries remarkably agreed in
receiving them as canonical ; whUe the hesitation of a
f6w proves only that this agreement was not a hasty
or careless assent, but a dehberate and unbiassed
judgment. ... It cannot be too strongly pressed
upon your attention that the credit of a canon thus

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 81
composed is infinitely greater than if it had rested on
the authority of some general Council. For the de
cision of a CouncU is the decision of a majority only :
whereas this is ratified by the, voice of every separate
church. It is, moreover, the decision not of one meet
ing, or of one age, but the uncontradicted belief of all
the first churches, spreading graduaUy and naturaUy
as the Gospel spread: — a behef which was not im
posed by authority, but was the result of their own
cautious and independent examination.' *
I had also several communications from the Bishop
on some matters in themselves very insignificant, but
which bad been made, by the Party above aUuded to,
an occasion for vehement contests and disastrous
schism — those relating to clerical Vestments and
Church-ceremonies, He writes to me in December,
1 844 — ' Very soon, I imagine, our several opinions
on these httle matters will become well known,
through uncontradicted statements of the press.
 Wherever I go, and whoever I talk
to,  is universaUy blamed  It is a
portion only of the clergy who vrill side with him,
and this, in a great measure, from a mistaken idea of
his power to decide such questions : e. g. preaching
in a gown ; a thing whoUy unprovided for by the
Rubric' ' By the bye I have this moment read a very use
ful and sensible Ordination-Charge of the Bishop of
Worcester, whose general view of the points was de-
* Kingdom of Christ, Appendix K, pp. 253-4, a

82 INTRODUCTION.
clared in his last Visitation-Charge ; but they are here
sensibly, and I think convincingly, handled.'
' Frivolous, to be sure, these controversies about
clerical dress are ; yet I wonder that no one of  's
opponents has hit upon an argumentum ad hominem,
decisive, as it seems to me, against him. Do look, if
you can find time, into CardweU's Liturgies of Ed
ward VL. At page 347 you wUl find some rubrical
notes on the first Liturgy (which Liturgy, as you know,
is the law as to Clerical Vestments prescribed by our
Common Prayer Book of 1661), notes left out in the
edition of 1552. And by these, the Alb or Cope is
du-ected for the priest in the Communion Service, and
the Cope or Vestment, in addition to the Bochet and the
Alb, for the Bishop, whenever he executes any pubhc
ministration in the church ; and also a pastoral staff in
his hand, or borne by the chaplain.'
' He requires his clergy to wear an alb and cope, if
the parish provide them. The clergyman is excused,
if they are not provided, and may wear a surphce.
' Quam temere in nosmet,' &c. ! By the same rule,
the Bishop is bound to appear with a Cope, Alb, and
Staff ; and this, without excuse ; for they are not to be
provided by churchwardens, but by himself.'
' I don't wonder that you turn vrith disgust from
such silly disputes. They remind me of an answer
the solemn old Blenkinsop once gave me, when I had
a Cambridge friend to be admitted to an ' ad eundem'
degree, and I asked him to furnish a hood, ' Sir, I do
nothing in Divinity.' '

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 83
The much-agitated questions respecting Baptism, I
need only aUude to here ; as I have fuUy set forth the
Bishop's views on that subject m the chai'ge (' Lnfant
Baptism Considered^) of the year 1850, Avhich I ac
cordingly inscribed to his memory.
On several other points relating to what is com
monly called ' the Calvinistic controversy,' his opi
nions are expressed in the volume of Discourses he
pubhshed. And even those who do not concur ^nith
him, cannot faU, I think, to acknowledge the candour
and courtesy with which different parties are treated.
Though not adopting, himself, the theory either of the
Calvinists or the Arminians, he was not for excluding
either from the Chiu'ch, or from its ]\Iinistry ; nor did
he speak (as some on each side are too apt to do) as
if there were not at least something plausible to be
urged by each. He himself entertained much the
same views as I have set forth in the third and fourth
Essays of the second series : which received, wlnle in
manuscript, his cordial approbation.
Those Essays, and aU the other Works pubhshed
before my coming to Dubhn (besides a considerable
portion of the later ones), may be regarded as so far
Bishop Copleston's, that though he is not responsible
for any part of them — since I always idtimately de
cided according to my own conviction — they were
submitted, whoUy, or in great part, to him, before
pubhcation, and are indebted to him for many im
portant suggestions and corrections.
In particular, I remember conversing with him on

84 INTRODUCTION.
the subject of an Article in the Edinburgh Beview,
eulogising Hume's Essay on Miracles-; and we were
observing to one another how easy it would be, on
Hume's principles, to throw doubt on the history of
the wonderful events that had recently occurred in
Europe. I put down on paper the substance of our
conversation, and showed it to hun ; when he told me
he had just been thinking of doing this very thing
himself. The sketch thus dravra out, I subsequently
completed, with the aid of some suggestions from
him ; and it was afterwards published, partly in the
pamphlet entitled Historic Doubts, and, (a portion of
it) subsequently, in the Historic Certainties.
I have also mentioned in the Lectures on the
Apostles (Note H, p. 204), that I am indebted to
him for the solution of a difficulty which has greatly
perplexed commentators, and which relates to a point
of some importance in the Apostohc Decree, recorded
in Acts XV.

It may be worth whUe here to advert to another
question which has been very warmly taken up by
some of those who maintain what are caUed ' High
Church principles.' It is weU knovm that in very
many churches which are frequented by large congre
gations (such as many of those in London and other
great towns), it has long been the practice, in admi
nistering the Lord's Supper, to address at once aU
who are at one time kneeling at the raUs, using the

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 85
prescribed words in the plural number, whenever it so
happens — as is usuaUy the case in ,those churches —
that the communicants are very numerous.
This practice is vehemently decried by some, as a
departure from the Rubric ; inasmuch as it is not
there expressly authorised. And I have even seen it
stigmatized as an innovation introduced by the Cal
vinistic party, in order to favour their own doctrinal
views ; though it is very far from being at aU con
fined to that party ; and what connection it can have
with Calvin's theories, it requires some ingenuity to
make out.
Bishop Copleston always considered the objection
to this practice as an overstrained interpretation of the
letter of a law, so as to defeat the spirit of it ; what
Cicero caUs ' mahtiosa juris interpretatio.' For he
could not believe that the framers of our Formularies —
anxious as they evidently were, that all should be com
municants — could have designed virtually to excom
municate, in very many places, more than half the
worshippers. Now it is evident that in churches
where the communicants amount (as often happens)
to 300 or 400, or more, — and would amount to above
double that number, if the exhortations in our Prayer
Book were duly attended to, it would be moraUy im
possible to get through the Service in any other mode
than that complained of.
The Bishop accordingly felt no doubt that our Re
formers meant, and supposed that every one would
understand them to mean, that several persons might

86 INTRODUCTION.
occasionaUy be addressed at once, and that, then, the
plural number might be used.
And, accordingly, this simple and natural mode of
interpretation is adopted and acted on in many other
cases, even by those who object to it in this. In
publishing the banns of marriage, for instance, when
there are several couples, no one ever repeats for each
separately the whole formula (which would occupy in
some populous parishes more than half an hour), but
applies the same words to all, inserting, without any
express written authority for it, the word 'respec
tively.' The like is commonly done, and never objected to,
when there are several chUdren to be baptized, or
several couples to be married, at the same time. And
all Bishops are accustomed, occasionally at least, to
administer the rite of confirmation in an analogous
manner; using the formula of prayer in the plural
number. All of them, therefore, may fairly be re
garded as bearing testimony to Bishop Copleston's
principle of interpretation.
But any one who should resolve to adhere to the
principle of a rigid conformity in all cases to the
letter of a law, without any regard to its spirit, would
find himself involved in difficulties, not only in such
cases as, those just referred to, but also even in the
Communion Service itself. For, the 'Exhortation' is to
be read, according to the words of the Rubric, ' when
the people are conveniently jo/acec^ for receiving the
Lord's Supper.' So that, according to the strict letter.

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 87
on the above principles, the minister should read that
exhortation, and proceed with the rest of the Senice to
the \erj end, addressing those only icho are at one
time kneeling at the Communion-table rails ; and when
these have communicated, and have retired to make
room for others, he should begin anew at the Exhorta
tion, and proceed to the end ; and so on, over and over
again, for each set of communicants that are succes
sively ' conveniently placed for receiving the Lord's
Supper.' Any one who is always ready to urge, hke Shjlock,
' Is it so nominated in the bond ?' is hable, hke him,
to find the law bearing hard on himself ; —
' For, as thou nrgest justice, be assur'd
Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest.'
To an}i:hing, however, that could be fairly con
sidered as a real irregularity, — to ever}- fanciful and
unauthorised innovation, — ^no one could be more de
cidedly opposed than Bishop Copleston. And it is
remarkable that several of those who, in the case now
before us, are the most vehement in insisting on a
rigid and overstrained adherence to the letter, are the
vers- persons who have gone the greatest lengths in
introducing innovations both in doctrine and in prac
tice, the most completely at variance both vrith the
letter and the spirit of our Church's Formularies.
Many of them, for instance, studiously make the read
ing of the Service, which was designed to be weU
heard and understood by the people, inaudible to
many, and unintelligible to many more.

88 INTRODUCTION.
What the Bishop's opinion was of the practice
introduced by many of the Tract-party, of what is,
caUed 'intoning' the Church Service, may be col
lected not only from his own practice, but also from a
letter of his printed in the Memoir (p. 137), in which
he expresses his wish ' that clergymen would read and
preach as they talk when earnestly engaged in conver
sation upon a serious subject.' But they put on, he
complains, * together with their surphce, a certain
artfficial tone.' I am convinced, indeed, that he was
far from meaning to confine his censure to what is
technically caUed ' intoning ; ' though to that it most
emphaticaUy apphes. But he meant, no doubt, to
include in that censm'e the far greater number who,
without going that length, 'assume a tone, grave
indeed, and solemn and decorous, but altogether
removed from that of ordinary hfe, and therefore
seldom engaging the attention, although a sense of
duty, and the importance of the matter may pre
serve it.'
To the truth of the editor's remark that ' many
persons would be disposed to demur to the Bishop's
recommendation,' no one is more competent to testify
than myself. For when above a quarter of a century
ago, I put forth, and explained, and defended the
very same doctrine, (in Part IV. of the Elements of
Bhetotic,) it met with very general disapprobation.
And though the principles of elocution there main
tained have been ever since graduaUy, and not very
slowly, gaining ground, there is stiU, I apprehend.

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 89
a considerable majority opposed to them, in practice
at least, if not in theory.

The most important portions of the Treatise on
Bhetoric just aUuded to, were submitted to Bishop
Copleston, and received the benefit of his suggestions
and criticisms, long before the work was published,
or even designed to be pubhshed. Part I., the sub
jects of which would have been by many ^i-riters
brought under the head of logic, was that in which
he had the most share. I weU remember submitting
to him, above forty years ago, in the rough state, my
observations on the distinction between cause and
proof and on the importance, so generaUy over
looked, of attending to it. He remarked play-fuUy,
that he was mortified at- what I showed him, for that
he had the same thing in his Common-Place-Book,
and had supposed it to be exclusively his own ; and
that he had the design of one day publishing some
thing on the subject. I afterwards consulted him on
several other points which are treated of in the
work just referred to. (See Part I., chap. 2, §§ 3 and
7.) But, on the whole, the assistance I derived from
him in that work was considerably less than in the
Treatise on Logic.
His share in this latter was so great, that, as is set
forth in the Dedication and in the Preface, it may
be considered as his Work and mine in about equal
proportions. And yet, being prepared for the Press,
and actuaUy pubhshed by myself, most persons seem

90 INTRODUCTION.
to have totally overlooked the cfrcumstance that he
had any share at aU in it.
I have frequently made the remark, and sometimes
to himself, that this may, perhaps, be in part attri
buted to the very openness with which I acknow
ledged, and prominently put forward, my obligations
to him in that Work (which may sufficiently explain,
and justify, the omission of aU mention of it in the
Memoir) ; and that if I had suppressed, or endea
voured to extenuate those obligations, some persons
would, perhaps, have taken a pleasure in investigating
the question, whether the Work was as much my own
as it professed to be, and in coUecting (which would
not have been difficult) indications from the Bishop's
conversation and writings, of my having in reahty
borrowed much from him.*
Certain it is, that, as the case stands, his share in
the Work is so much overlooked, that, in one of
the Reviews of the Memoir, he is characterised as a
sensible, indeed, and respectable writer, but not such
a one as to have exercised any influence on the age.
Now this could never have been said by any one
who was thinking of him as ' part-owner ' of the
Treatise in question. That a very great change has
come over the public mind, with respect to logical
studies, within the memory of even middle-aged
men, is an undeniable fact. And that that Work had

* Concealment is the great spur to curiosity, which gives an inte
rest to investigation. The celebrated Letters of Junius would
probably have long since been forgotten, if the author could have
been clearly pointed out at the time.

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 91
at least something to do with this change, is what
few would deny to have at least some show of pro-
babihty. Lord Dudley, in one of the published letters to
Bishop Copleston of forty years ago, remarks that
it is some presumption against Logic (he does not urge
it as a decisive proof), that the study of it flourished
in the Dark Ages, and was laid aside and contemned
when science and inteUectual activity revived. It
is a remarkable circumstance that the very person he
was writing to should have hved to see this pre
sumption, in a great degree through his own instru
mentality, completely done away. For hardly any
one woul'd make such a remark now, or at any time
within the last twenty years.* Even those most
opposed to the study, complain that its cultivation
has operated as an impediment to the production
of what they call a truly phUosophical system of
logic; a system about which they declaim in gran-
dUoquous but vague terms, as something that is to
effect vast wonders, when it shall have been dis-

* I do not mean, however, that much misconception on this sub
ject has not prevailed within that period, and even down to the pre
sent day. I remember, for instance, about the time when the pro
ceedings of the Tract-party first excited general attention, and caused
much alarm, that an article in one of the London daily papers (the
organ of an opposite party), vehemently denounced the study of
logic at Oxford, on the ground that some of the Tractite-Leaders were
considered very able Logicians ; and it was gravely proposed that this
study should be proscribed by law !
The same writer would, one may suppose, have suggested to the
Duke of Wellington at Waterloo, to spike his cannon, and make his
men throw away their muskets, on account of the slaughter caused
by those of the French.

92 INTRODUCTION.
covered ; as great, perhaps, as the ' Philosopher's
stone ' and the ' Universal Medicine ; ' in common
with which, it labours under that great drawback,
that it does not yet exist, and most likely never
wUl.
But if the seekers after this ' Universal medicine'
for inteUectual diseases, complain of the Aristotelian
logic as an impediment in thefr way, they may be
reminded that a fair field was left open for them for
a very long time, when logic was almost universaUy
neglescted ; so that they had fuU leisure for hatching
the egg of thefr own phUosophical system, if there
had been any vitality in it.
The very complaint itself, however, would be a
proof, if any could be needed, of the existing
popularity of the study. But, at the time when
Lord Dudley was writing, a Treatise on Logic would
have been regarded in much the same light as one on
Chfromancy or Astrology. And now, independently
of the extensive cfrculation of the Work itself above
referred to, and of the abridgment of it, entitled
Lessons on Beasoning (besides several reprints of
it in the United States of America, where it is a
text-book in, I believe, every one of thefr CoUeges),
a number of other publications, reaUy or professedly
on the same subject, have subsequently appeared :
some of them borrowed in great part from that Work ;
some professing to look dovra upon it as confined to
elements which almost aU are familiar with, and to
have advanced to some great discoveries beyond ; and
some of them wandering away from the legitimate

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 93
province of Science, into antiquarian researches, or
disquisitions on matters that have no necessary
connection with logic ; but all indicating, that, from
whatever cause, some influence has been exercised on
the mind of the present generation.
I cannot doubt, therefore, that the writer of the
Review just aUuded to, must have been either igno
rant, or else whoUy forgetful, of Bishop Copleston's
share in a Work which, at least, seems to have con
tributed to so great a change.
If I were to extract from his Common-Place-Book
aU that relates to the subject, I should be burdening
this volume with a repetition of much that has been
afready published. And yet I should, even so, fad
of setting forth anything hke the whole of his
claims ; because, not to mention his having been
originally my teacher in the science, the many sug
gestions thrown out in conversation, and the revision
and corrections which the Work received before publi
cation, would not appear.
A few extracts, however, on the subject, wUl be
given as a specimen, and only a specimen, of what he
had thought and said upon it.
These studies, among others, were pursued by him
during the period when his powers were in thefr
fullest vigour. If the whole of his life were divided
into three equal portions, the middle one is that
in which (as aU would aUow who have known him
long and intimately) his intellectual energies were in
thefr chief strength. It was, as it were, his meridian.
In the later portion of his hfe there was stUl the

94 INTRODUCTION.
same sun, but it was an evening sun. Though re
maining stUl a man of eminent abUity, frequent and
severe attacks of a most depressing malady had
graduaUy impafred the force and activity of his mind,
and indisposed, if not disquahfied, him for the ener
getic pursuit of the studies, in which, in the time of
his pristine vigour, he had so much exceUed. In one
of his letters to me, he himself aUudes (in reference
to a logical work which I had been mentioning) to
this change; referring to a weU-known passage of
Horace (1st Ep .) : ' Quseris antiquo me includere
ludo? Non eadem est setas, non mens.'
He was appointed Tutor at Oriel CoUege soon after
his election, and before he had taken his M.A. Degree.
He has described to me the perplexity he felt on find
ing that he was expected to lecture, among other
things, in Logic. He had never attended any lecture
on the subject ; nor was it taught at aU, in his time,
at his former CoUege. It is to be observed that this
was previous to the passing of what was emphaticaUy
caUed ' 27ie Examination Statute' (in 1800), — that
which first made the University examinations some
thing beyond an empty form ; and the Tutors accord-.
ingly of each CoUege lectured thefr pupUs in whatever
they thought fit, without reference to any examination
but thefr own. Logic was by the greater part re
garded as a system of useless and obsolete subtleties,
to be laid on the same shelf with Astrology and
Alchemy. Mr. Copleston accordingly, having received no in
struction in it, and having no living help to apply to.

REMINISCENCES OF BISHOP COPLESTON. 95
collected and read aU the books he could meet with
that professed to treat of it. The far greater part of
what he had thus to wade through, he found to be
either ingenious trifling, or matter frrelevant to the
science. But from this chaos of loose materials,
mingled with rubbish, he formed in his own mind a
coherent, and intelligible, and valuable system, care
fully separating and preserving every particle of gold
found mingled with the wortlUess clay and sand that
was to be washed away.
lU can those appreciate the difficulty and the
tediousness of such a task, and stiU less the skUl
requfred for it, who have, from the first, had placed
before them, cleared from aU extraneous matter, and
expressed in perspicuous language, what wUl have then
appeared to them very simple and obvious truths, but
which had before been obscured or disguised by indis
tinct or ambiguous expressions. And the more suc
cessfuUy this task is accomphshed, the more is the
student hkely to under-rate its magnitude. When
the hUls are coiripletely cut away, and the chasms
bridged over, and the swamps rendered firm, so that
the steam-carriage glides smoothly along, the traveller
is apt to think lightly of the obstacles that were to
be overcome.
In every undertaking of this kind, as far as regards
Logic, that I have myself ever been concerned in, I
had part of the work ready done for me by Bishop
Copleston, and the advantage of his assistance in the
remainder. He, on the other hand, had to make the

96 INTRODUCTION.
beginning himself, and to do everything without any
assistance from others.

In extracts from the Common-Place-Book, the
reader wUl of course not expect the same high
finish, in style or in matter, that might fairly be
looked for in anything designed for the press. But
there is an advantage in being admitted into the
STUDIO of an eminent artist, distinct from, and in
some respects beyond, that derived from the contem
plation of the works of art, complete. We thus see
not only what is done, but, in some degree, how it is
done.

EXTRACTS

PROM THE

COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.

' Invenies etiam disjecti membra Poette.'

CERTAINTY.

T OCKE'S definition of this word is very confused. He
talks of certainty being twofold — certainty of truth and
certainty of knowledge. 'Certainty of truth,' he says, 'is
when words are so put together in propositions as exactly to
express the agreement or disagreement of the ideas they
stand for as really it is.' How does this differ from truth
simply, or what he had called in the preceding chapter real
ti-uth ?
Again, ' certainty of knowledge,' he says, ' is to perceive
the agreement or disagreement of ideas, as expressed in any
proposition.' But this is all he means by the word know
ledge. In fact, certain is a word relative to the mind, and extended
in its use to the object of our thoughts. A thing is only so
far certain as we are certain of it. Our knowledge or con
viction can have no influence on the nature of the thing.
The same may be said of probable. In its proper significa
tion it relates to the mind, and is improperly extended to
things themselves. From this ambiguous use of the word
certain (as generally happens), people have imagined that there
is some common quality of an abstruse and subtle nature
belonging both to the mind and to the object.

98 EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
This common confusion in the use of the word certain,
appears in the following line of Milton : —
' Foreknowledge hath no influence on their fault.
Which had no less proved certain, unforeknown.' Par. Lost, iii. 118.
A similar confusion of speech occurs in the following
line : — ' Or aught by me immutaUy foreseen? — Ibid, iii 121.
Bentley, struck with the absurdity, alters it mio foredoomed ;
but Newton is right in thinking that Milton wrote it as it is,
however absurd.
An event is certain when it is known that so it will be.
Cerium est, it is decreed, is the original of the phrase ; and
it is only subsequently extended from events within our
power to events over which we have no control, because
they agree, or seem to agree, in one leading property, that
of being fixed and necessary. In accurate reasoning, there
fore, the word certain ought never to be used as merely
synonymous with necessary. Physical events we call neces
sary, because of their depending on fixed causes, not on
known causes ; when they depend also on known causes, they
may be called certain. The variations of the weather arise
from necessary and fixed causes, but they are proverbially
uncertain. It follows that in morals nothing is strictly certain. In
proportion as the motives and dispositions of men are known,
actions, the consequences of those motives and dispositions,
may be called certain ; but it should carefully be remem
bered that this is a secondary and improper use of the term.
To the Divine mind everything must be equally certain ; that
is, equally known ; but it by no means follows that, on that
accoupt, evei-ything is necessary. (Vide ' Cic^^o de Fato,'
c. 12.)

CERTAINTY. 99
Locke says (b. iv. c. 6, § 16), ' General certainty is never
to be found but in our ideas j' by which he seems to mean
the same thing as when it is said that all demonstrative rea
soning is but the expansion of terms.
]Mathematical reasoning, it is now generally admitted,
depends entirely on the definitions, that is, on the nature of
the elementary ideas, about which we reason. All the pro
perties demonstrated of the circle exist in the notion or
definition of a circle, though not particularly expressed ; and
so all deduction from principles depends on the import of
the terms used, and is, in fact, but a development of that
import. Any other propositions relating to these terms are
true or not, according to the authority or evidence on which
the assertion rests. They are not, therefore, certainties, but
probabilities. We demonstrate what is, we cannot demon
strate what will be, and it is an extension of the term so to
apply it. When we talk, therefore, of demonstrable truths,
we mean either mathematical theorems (which, according to
the definitiops or hypotheses, are strictly so) or those logical
inferences which must be true if the terms are admitted, or
things of which we have the evidence of our senses. But
the anticipations of science, however certain we may be that
they win be fulfilled, are not demonstrable. As yet they
are not ; if the course of Nature continues unchanged, they
will be.
Stewart would limit demonstration or demonstrative evi
dence to that species of proof which holds in mathematics,
where everything depends on the definitions of the terms
employed. Hobbes (Computatio sive Logica) extends this
to all syllogistic reasoning, which is in fact hypothetical, and
dependent on the import of its words. Stewart seems pre
judiced against the form of Syllogism ; and admitting, as he
does, that its form presupposes this very principle, denies
that it is applicable to any subject but mathematics. Surely
hypothetical reasoning is applicable to all subjects? In
H 2

100 EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
proportion as our terms are well defined, it is conclusive and
instructive in all.
The principles of reasoning are certain intuitive axioms,
which, perhaps, are never expressed in words or even re
flected upon, but which we tacitly assume in every process
of reasoning. ' That the same thing cannot be, and not
be,' is a principle universally implied in reasoning ; it may,
therefore, be called an 'innate idea.' Again, 'That the
laws of nature are fixed,' is a principle universally assumed
in all physical investigation. If either of these principles
be denied or doubted, there can be no deduction. In other
words, all- reasoning is hypothetical ; that is, it proceeds
upon the assumption of certain principles. That reasoning
is demonstrative which assumes only undeniable principles.
All other reasoning is probable only, i. e. conclusive only, in
so far as the principles it assumes are just.
DIVISION.
Different principles of division must be adopted according
to the object of the division. Stewart's discussion of the
general distribution of sciences, in the Dissertation prefixed
to the Encyclopedia, proceeds on the absurd supposition
that one mode is the best for all purposes. There is an ex
cellent passage in Bacon's Advancement of Learning, on
the subject. His illustration is taken from the sorting which
a Secretary of State would make of his papers.
Some good remarks are made in the British Critic for
January, 1820, in a review of Jameson's Mineralogy, on
the inconsistency of the classification commonly adopted by
mineralogists. But the reviewer does not seem distinctly to
see the simple principle above-mentioned, viz. that no one
principle of classification is the best for all purposes ; a care
only should be taken that our classification is not founded
on several principles, which always produces confusion, and

ANALYSIS. 101
violates that fundamental rule of logic, Mmnbra dividentia
sint opposita. ANALYSIS.
It is a question how far analysis may be usefully pursued.
In every subject we may trace up all its varieties to one
common source; but such a classification is of no real use.
Thns, to resolve aU the senses into that of feehng ; all the
mechanical powers into that of the lever ; all taste into asso
ciation ; aU the Greek language into two or three simple
elements, or even into one, as some have done ; aU human
motives into selfishness, — are mere speculations, amusing,
perhaps, for the moment, but no way conducive to right
judgment or excellence in practice. As soon as we have
performed our analysis we must instantly abandon it, and
take our station lower down in the scheme, where the sub
divisions between classes begin to be numerous, and the dis
tinctions between classes universally acknowledged.
Et\Tnology is liable to abuse of this kind. In a moderate
degree it is not oidy useful, as assisting the memory, but
highly instructive and pleasing. But if pushed so far as to
refer all words to a few primary elements, it loses all its
value. It is like pursuing heraldry up to the first pair of
mankind. To trace family connections is not only interest
ing, but serviceable; and to classify the innumerable par
ticulars of the species under some heads, guards against
confusion, and delights the mind with the idea of order
and method; but to ascend to the genus summum is
to surrender all its advantages, and to return to that
very indistinctness which we endeavoured to avoid by clas
sification. Even where the analysis is just, for practical purposes it
is necessan' to take up our gi-ound on several advanced
points, which, for the occasion, may be considered as original

102 EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
positions. Thug, ^^ mathematics, certain advanced theorems
should be considered as the very elements of science, the
standards to which subsequent reasonings are referred, or the
foundations on which they rest. It would be a waste of
time and labour to dig deeper. In logic, although all rea
soning is resolvable into the categorical syllogism, yet it is
convenient, and even practically necessary, to adopt other
forms, such as the hypothetical, causal, the dilemma, &c.,
which have their appropriate rules to try their validity,
without having recourse to the ultimate analysis. Thus, too,
in mechanics, though all the Powers are resolvable into the
lever, yet each of them has its appropriate rules, which are
referred to in practice as the ultimate authority ; they are, in
fact, all, disguised levers.
D. Stewart himself, although, in his objections against
logic, he seems to think that the form of syllogism is to be
continually employed, yet, when speaking of mathematics,
says : ' Nothing can be more disgusting than a demonstra
tion where even the simplest and most obvious steps are
brought forward to view, and where no appeal is made to
that stock of previous knowledge which memory has identi
fied with the operations of reason.' (Elem. vol. ii. c. 2, § 1,
p. 93.)

AVERAGE.
Is there not a close analogy between the use of general
terms in moral reasoning, and averages in actual calculation ?
A certain latitude must in each case be allowed, and for
indindual transactions neither method is a sufiicient guide.
The average may, in fact, not coincide vnth a single case of
that class which it represents ; e. g. the average value of
each ship in a fleet may be 5000/., and yet the actual value
of each may be above or below it. To him who should treat

AVERAGE. 103
for one, the knowledge of this average would be useless. In
proportion as he treats for a greater and a greater number it
will serve him as a guide, and for the whole fleet as an exact
criterion. Thus a general term, such as theft, includes an infinity
of particular cases, and is expressive of the average or general
character of them all, some possessing more, others less
criminality. The general punishment denounced by law
gives me no standard by which I can estimate the heinous-
less of a particular case : it may be one of the lowest rank,
or it may be one of the highest. If, after having informed
myself accurately of the merits of the case, I am inclined to
treat it as slight and venial, how unfair it is (as is some
times done) for a person to interpose and say, ' Well, but
after all it is a theft;' which is merely to refer me back
again to the average, in order that I may form an esti
mate !
Hence the wider the interval between the average and each
extreme, the greater may be the amount of the loss or gain,
and the greater the risk, in regarding that average as the
standard. And so, in general terms, the more lax and com
prehensive the genera, the greater room is there for error,
and the more cautious ought we to be in judging of indivi
dual cases thus generally described.
It is from this cause that Jurisprudence becomes so volu
minous. The law is general in its enactments; in its ad
ministration it is applied to particular cases. The average
fails us here, and we are obliged to divide and subdivide, as
we acquire a greater insight into the character of the several
cases. In moral reasoning the same analogy holds. The larger
the field to which we apply it, the safer are the conclusions
when expressed in general terms — as, in commerce, the larger
the concern, the better will the average serve us. But the
nearer we come to single cases, the less conclusive is our

104 EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
reasoning. The average serves for wholesale, not for retail
trading. Thus, in order to get a just idea of the outline of an ob
ject, I purposely retire to such a distance as shall render the
subordinate parts less conspicuous and obtrusive on the view.
The angle of vision is lessened, but the object is contem
plated more steadily. If I want to compare this object with
others, it is still more necessary to retire far, in order to ad
mit these objects into the same field of vision. The mutual
relations are thus more clearly discerned ; and as these rela
tions are in no degree affected by the subordinate circum
stances now unseen, it is better that they should be out of
sight, as they might otherwise distract the attention.
It should, however, always be borne in mind, that, in pro
portion to the distance of the object (or the generalisation
of the term), it must be understood as bearing relation to
other objects also distant, or other terms likeiQise general.
We must observe a kind of mental perspective in our reason
ing — a quality which is most wanting in those who have had
a smattering in metaphysics, and who are perpetually min
gling up the most abstract truths with the maxims and prac
tices of common life, comparing the one with the other, and
trying their respective merits by the same standard. E. g.
When Mr. Owen, of Lanark, founds, upon the success of
experiments formed under his own eye, a system for the
organisation of the whole kingdom : or when the success of
giving potato plots to cottagers in one parish, and observed
in one generation, is produced as a proof that a nation might
be so circumstanced, and poverty extinguished. Hence the
ridiculous effect of some comic characters, who are repre
sented as blundering in practice from theoretic notions they
have imbibed. The representation is often faulty and inarti
ficial, and most fallacious in its result, if it leads to the re
jection of theory as vain and unfounded. The folly consists
in combining machinery of parts formed on different scales.

TRUTH. 105

TRUTH.

This word is, in common use, confounded with Reality.
It differs from it, inasmuch as Truth implies a report of some
thing that is ; reality denotes the existence of a thing, whe
ther affirmed and reported of, or not. ,
Truth cannot be correctly said of anything, but of a re
port or representation of something, either by words, or by
some other signs. The thing reported either is, or is not ;
the report is either true or false. We are apt, however, to
transfer the epithet of the sign to the thing signified. The
things themselves are called truths, instead oi facts or realities.
The same laxity is observable in the converse of this. As
sertions concerning matters of fact are sometimes called/«c^s.
Thus we hear of false facts, a thing, literally impossible and
absurd. Indeed, the whole vocabulary relating to things and the
signs of things is liable to this abuse. E. g. ' He would in
fallibly have been drowned.'
Not only in speaking do men confound the words truth
and reality, but the confusion enters more or less into their
thoughts, and sometimes governs their actions. ' Prophesy
unto us smooth things, prophesy deceit.' Bernier, the
French traveller, in his account of Delhi, speaking of the
astrologers who are consulted by the common people on all
occasions, says, that the women often beg them to make the
stars favourable to them. A similar confusion seems to have
prevailed in Balak's mind, when he sent for Balaam.*
This may be also resolved into the fallacy of non causa
pro causa, mistaking a concomitant circumstance for a cause.
As reason is confounded with cause, truth with reality, so
all the subordinate vocabulary connected with those ideas is

* I have noticed this confusion of thought in the Sermon on Ahab
and Micaiah. — En.

106 EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
apt to be confounded, infallible with inevitable, certain with
necessary. One of the most remarkable instances is the
confusion of impossible and inconceivable, which seems to
have misled Clarke in his Demonstration, as well as many
other metaphysical writers.
' That God should not know a thing,' is rather incon
ceivable than impossible. It is a proposition which contra
dicts itself. According to the notion annexed to the word
God, a Being that was ignorant of anything would not be
God. It is resolved therefore into that fundamental maxim,
' It is impossible for the same thing to be. and not to be.'
If we retain the use of impossible in this sense, there are
two kinds of impossibilities ; one, which involves a contra
diction in terms ; the other, which contradicts all experience.
The first, metaphysical or logical ; the second may be called
physical. By the latter we only mean, contrary to the uni
form course of nature. That God can prevail over the latter,
all who believe in miracles must admit. The former is ad
dressed only to our conceptions, and reminds us of their real
nature, that we may not involve ourselves in contradiction.
LANGUAGE.
It is a fundamental question in the Philosophy of Lan
guage, how far its structure ought to conform to the reality
of things, and how far to their appearance. When the ap
pearance differs essentially from the reality, by adapting
language to the former rather than to the latter, we confirm
the ignorant in their errors. On the other hand, if we
scrupulously accommodated language to the real nature of
things, disregarding the relative character of things, with
which we, as men, are most concerned, it would often be
an unfit instrument for the business of life, and certainly
would be a less convenient medium for conveying our own
perceptions and inclinations to one another. E. g. We say.

LANGUAGE. 107
' The sun rises,' ' the sun sets,' ' such a body is green or
blue.' Efficient cause. Necessary connection. A river is
spoken of as possessing identity. Time destroys. Cold
freezes water. Why should the substance be called water
rather than ice or steam — except that to human experience it
commonly appears under that form ? Hence we regard this
to be its proper nature, and other forms only departures or
occasional variations from it.
Thus, too, we attribute (in language) mental properties to
material subjects — and talk of power, force, agent, patient,
action, attraction, repulsion — terms improper, strictly speak
ing, but expedient and even necessary for use.
If man were not allowed to be an Egotist, and talk of the
phenomena of nature as they affect his own senses, even the
most scientific terms would be proofs of ignorance. The sun's
disk, thg axis of the earth ; the right ascension and declina
tion of heavenly bodies, their opposition and conjunction,
the libration of the moon, node, rising and setting, &c., are
all terms of this kind. Longitude and latitude are names
which arose either from a mistaken opinion of the earth's
shape, or from an imperfect acquaintance with the state of
the world. The ancients, in the time of Polemy, a.d. 140,
knew more of the earth from east to west, than from north
to south. Hence they called the fio-st its length, the other
its breadth. Eclipse comes from a false notion that the sun
left its place in the heavens, s>c^et7rs7v rhv 'i$pav (Herod.).
In fact, the line of a falling body is only relatively perpen
dicular. In reality, it is a curve of a most complicated
nature. Who would wish to talk of fire and its effects as a chemist
does? As it would be inconvenient and even injurious to have
two kinds of languages, one purely philosophical, and the
other merely practical, language ought to be framed on the
basis of a liberal compromise between contemplation and

108 EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
action. There will always be a debatable ground of some
extent between their respective districts, the limits of which
will vary in proportion as philosophy is diffused over man
kind. But it would be idle to surrender a short name which
answers all the purposes of life, such as salt, for a prohx
denomination, although more truly expressive of its composi
tion, as ' muriate of soda.'
Wallis's remarks in his Chap. II. on the Category of
Action and Passion is very just. ' Nonnunquam etiam for
mulae grammaticse sunt notionibus philosophicis contrarise,
e. g. oculus videt lucem, &c.' Still though this mode of
speaking does not correspond with the truth of things, it is
not to be condemned if it correspond with our natural
untutored conceptions of them. Otherwise, the phrase 'the
sun rises' is improper. Even the inspired language is
adapted to our ordinary conceptions, not to the reality of
things. ETYMOLOGY.
The affinity of words is by no means to be rejected because
it is remote. If each step in the pedigree be clearly esta
blished, the connection is as certain as if it consisted of but
one or two stages of descent. Thus Journal is undoubtedly
derived from Dies. Dies, Diurnus, Giorno, Diurnal, Journal.
Lord Clarendon, in his Life, uses Diurnals in the sense of
Journals. The Arches is a vulgar name with seamen for the Archipe
lago, which is itself a corruption of aiynoq wshayoq (Mitford's
History of Greece,\ol.i.); Charter-house horn Chartreux; Post
master, at Merton College, from Portionista. These corrup
tions are similar to those in daily use among our seamen,
when they assimilate the name of a ship to some word already
familiar. Bellerophon, Bully Ruffian ; Bienfaisant, Bonney
pheasant. So Bologne Mouth, Bull and Mouth ; Belle

ETYMOLOGY. 109
Sauvage, Bell and Savage. This is an important principle
for the Etymologist to notice. It solves many phenomena
in language. E. g. Bridgewater, a town in Somerset, is cor
rupted from Walter de Burgh ; Sparrow-grass, from Aspara
gus; Cowcumber, from Cucumis; Biscakes, from Biscuits;
' please the pigs,' from ' please the pix,' or sacred box in
which the host was kept ; country dance, from contredanse.
Quelques choses .... Kickshaws.
Hoc est corpus .... Hocus pocus.
Another guise  Another guess.
Sucre Brule  Barley sugar; and yet the
French say sucre d'orge.*
Buffetier  Beafeater.
Euripus  Egripos, Negropont.
Oyez  0 yes !
Chaussee  Causeway.
II Janitore  John Dory.
Girasole Artichoke . . . Jerusalem Artichoke.
Chacal  Jackall.
Toad-eater, from the Spanish todito, a familiar diminutive
of todo (toto), one who does everything for you — a fac-to-
ium-f — a frequent member of the Spanish household. The
word ta panta (tos wavTo.) was the name for a similar person
age at Rome. (See Peteonius.)

* Originally it was barley-water, sweetened with sugar (a common
remedy in coughs) boiled down to an extract. And some such is still
made. — Ed.
t I have heard an ingenious person object (and I think justly) to
this etymology, and derive the word from the animal 'toad,' which I
think equally improbable. Both seem to me to have overlooked a
simple and obvious derivation.
One element in etymology, which is not to be lost sight of, is the
tendency to contract or, otherwise alter in pronunciation any word
of which the utterance would be either profa,ne or disgusting. E.g.
' Od's my life ;' ' Gad ;' ' Lud ;' and many others. — Ed.

no EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
Hence, too, the universal corruption which once prevailed
in our language of the old genitive case. ' Tfie King his'
for 'Kingis,' &c. This was at length so estabhshed as to
give rise to a further corruption, her being substituted, in
the case of a woman, for his. An example of this principle
that, if we set out wrong, superior talents and learning only
lead to greater error. Optimum quodqv£ corruptum fit pessi-
mum. Hence in MSS. an ignorant copyist, though he wrote a
word without meaning, or perhaps no word, was often nearer
the original than a more learned scribe, who, dissatisfied
with a corrupt and unmeaning reading, changed it to one
that had at least some meaning, though not the true one.
The proneness to assimilate an unknovm word to a
known one is visible in MSS., and is the source of many
errors. The ancients seem to have been more careless in etymology
than in any other subject of human research. Wherever
any similitude strikes Aristotle or Cicero, for instance, be
tween the sound of two words, which have also some affinity
in meaning, however remote, they do not scruple to pro
nounce that the one was derived from the other, especially
if such an etymology tends to illustrate or' confirm their
argument. Thus Aristotle {Nic. Ethic, b. v.) derives
a-atp^ouvvri from ad^Biv Tnv (p^ovnaiv : in another place itiog
from Eflof.* But the most remarkable collection of these
forced and arbitrary derivations, founded on no principle,
but merely resemblance of sound, is at the end of his work
De Mundo, the whole chapter 5r£fi rSiv toS SboS ovo/^coLTav.
The Stoics were specially remarkable for such etymologies.
Thus also the Greek Fathers derived pascha, which comes
from the Hebrew signifying passover, from waa-xBiv, because
then Christ suffered. (Chrysostom, Hom. 4, in. 1, ad Tim.)

' Moral,' however, does come from ' wio«.' — Ed.

WORDS. Ill
So did Irenseus, Tertullian, Lactantius, and Gregory Xazi-
anzen. Augustine derived 5iaj3oX5j from cig and ^o?.og. (See Ed-
WABDS On Truth and Error, p. 191.) 'That unspeakable
spirit of absurdity which always came over even the most
sagacious Greeks and Romans the moment they meddled
with etymology-.' (NtEBrna's Rome, vol. i. p. 18, translat.
1828.) The same idea had often struck me.
It was not till the commentators on Shakspere and H.
Tooke investigated the Enghsh language in its rude state,
and traced its changes, that the great importance of autho
rities in etymology was known. Thus Warburton explains
Alorris-fike in Shakspere, by Maurice-pike, because Prince
Maurice being the first general of the age, the weapon
took its name from him. Farmer, however, found the very
word in the same sense in writers long before Prince
Maurice; and it is certainly a corruption of Moorish pike,
as Morris-dance is of the Moorish dance.
WORDS.
Words depart from their original and precise meaning
by almost imperceptible gradations, and it is this ambiguity
in language, not the more obvious and gross equivocations
of words, that is most dangerous in reasoning. The causes
of these aberrations are so various, that they can scarcely
be reduced to general heads.
E.g. In buying and seUing,* in borrowing and lending,
in owing and crediting, there is a great confusion in many
languages arising from the loose use of terms. Conduco
in Latin means either to let or to hire. So ci^vu/xai sig
nifies cupio, and sometimes infligo (Eurip. Hec. 1. 1064),
a^vv/iByog >ji^av, unless, indeed, it is here used in the sense of

* This remark was made to me by Mr. Powel of Balliol College.

112 EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
sumere pcenas. But in Homer, E'. 558, it can hardly
mean anything but conferre. ' AT^xa.^cxa-'' al^a, Bci}id/j,ou;, Eur.
Hec, 483. ' Cur valle permutem Sabina,
Divitias operosiores ? '
To pollute and to expiate, luo, solvo, piaculum, ^ua-io;, all
words relating to price and retribution. ' Passage ' signifies
the act of passing, and the place of passage. So, $id^aa-Lg
in Greek. Stipendium, pay, and the time of service.
Some of these inaccuracies may be explained on this
principle; where the idea conveyed implies two parties,
and the context makes it impossible to mistake, either of
the parties is denoted by the same word. Chace is thus
used in sea language. So convoy, for the fleet protected,
the vessel protecting, and the protection afforded. Rent
and learn are often so vulgarly employed.
When greater accuracy is required, as in law-proceedings,
Aristotle's rule respecting correlatives (in the Categories, wefi
rav wfo; tI) is resorted to, viz. words are coined which distin
guish one party from the other, while each word expresses the
common idea of which they are a modification. E.g. Gran
tor, grantee; mortgagor, mortgagee; lessor, lessee; donor,
donee. ' They (the ancient Greeks) had an unwarrantable habit
of moulding foreign names to a Grecian form, and giving
them a resemblance to some derivative word in their own
tongue. Thus, they changed the Gogra into Agoranis, or a
river of the assembly ; Uchah into Oxydracce, or sharp-sighted,
^nd Renas into Aornos, or a rock inaccessible to birds.
Whence their poets, who delighted in wonders, embellished
their works with new images, distinguishing regions and
fortresses by properties which existed only in imagination.'
(Sir William Jones, vol. i. p. 176.) So the Isle of Thanet,
which comes from Tau, Celtic for region ; and the diminu
tive et, is called Athanatos by Solinus.

WORDS. 113
Words strongly metaphorical in their origin sometimes
become naturalised in their secondary sense, so as to lose
all apparent connection with the primary one, and to be con
sidered as proper words. E. g. Talent, edify. '^
Mr. D. Stewart has remarked that it is well when a word
metaphorical in its origin has by use become so familiar
in its secondary sense, that we lose all consciousness of its
primary sense : the mind attends to the reasoning better,
and is less Kkely to make mistakes. But what is gained
by the understanding is lost by the imagination. StUl more
is it useful, when the name is borrowed from an accidental
quality. E. g. Money is called a common measure. So it
is ; but that • is not its essence ; and the name misleads
people often, making them think it is the essence. It is
of the essence of money to possess intrinsic value. That
language is the most philosophical which exhibits in the
similarity of its words the connection of the ideas denoted
by the words, or, as Aristotle would say, abounds in
•Tca^avufjui, cognate words. All languages have this quahty
more or less. There is none so barbarous as to be wholly
without it; there is none so philosophical as to exemplify
the character which Bishop WUkins designed in his essay
on a real character.
The Greek, perhaps, approaches the nearest of any to it.
'noa-og, TToioTns. Till Cicero's time the Latin had no word to
express the latter idea ; he therefore framed a word, on this
principle, from qualis, ' qualitas.' The Enghsh has not to
this day a word to express the former idea. We say, what
sort, for 'n-oTog. From TBXog in Greek, comes teAeio^. In
Latin finis and perfectio. In English end and perfect. In
these two languages the affinity between the ideas is not ex
pressed in the names of those ideas, and probably is not
? On the use of the word 'edify,' see Bishop Huros' Tt/ree
Temples. — Ed.

114 EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
perceived by the generality of men. In Greek even the vul
gar must have felt it ; and it prepares the way for under
standing the most abstruse reasonings in philosophy.
Aristotle, however, confesses that some anomalies exist in
the Greek language where one might expect Tra^dvu/xa : e. g.
trTtov^aiog for the man who possesses aj eT« (Categor. : its^i
izoioTYVTog). But he says they are not many.
The verbal nouns in Greek are a great help to accurate
thinkrag and reasoning. Thus, vming and voji/ta are both
rendered in Enghsh by ' thought ;' whereas, the first is the
act of thinking ; the second, the thing thought. So aia-^ria-tg
and a'a-Bn/yia. The latter word, as well as the former, is ren
dered by Cudworth, sensation. Hence an awkwardness of
expression arises, where he says that a sensation seems to be
a corporeal thing reaUy existing without the soul. (Immut.
Moral., p. 118). An aia-Byi//,a does, but an a'la-^ncrig does not.
Presently after he uses sensation for the ' perception of a
thing as existing without us.' (P. 119.)
The same author, aware of the difference between v6v<ng
and vo'nij.a, translates the first, intellection, the second, concep
tion. (P. 131.) Here it is evident that the latter word had, by
frequent use, lost, in his contemplation of it, its verbal sense,
and was become a mere name ; but the former, not being so
much in use, stUl retained its verbal or active sense.

Words apparently synonymous, and really so in the great
majority of cases, have nevertheless each an appropriated
meaning, which on certain occasions is made to appear. This
propriety of meaning is known a priori by the scholar, who
is acquainted vrith the Etymology of the word ; but the per
son who has collected its meaning only from its use is ever
liable to mistakes, and often to the most ridiculous mistakes,
because perhaps in the course of his experience it has never
been used in such a manner as to demonstrate its peculiar

SYNONYMS. 115
signification. E. g. Benevolence and Philanthropy are fre
quently synonymous; they might nine times out of ten
be substituted for one another, and an iUiterate person,
recollecting that each term is applied to characters and
actions of Idndness, mercy, and humanity, will indiscrimi
nately use them, even when that humanity is shown towards
the brute creation — than which mistake nothing could be
more ludicrous. So ' Premature'' for ' False.' 'Tenacious of
advertising.' Most of the words which have an obscene or filthy sense
annexed to them were originally general terms, including
that sense along with many others, to which people had
recourse, rather than give a direct and proper name.
In process of time, however, these words having been
long used in the particular sense, became just as offensive as
direct names ; and then the same expedient was again tried.
From a principle of modesty and delicacy some general term
was sought for, not yet so appropriated as to excite disgust,
but which must soon undergo the same fate. For an
example, see Home Tooke on the word dung, and the
examples from the old translation of the Bible here given.
(See also Cicero, Epp. Fam. 9, 22, ad Pcetum.)
Object, being often used for object of charity, is by the
vulgar understood to mean a person in extreme wretchedness,
and by some is felt as a term of reproach.
See Jani, Notitia vocum Latinm Lingua olim honestarum
mine inhonestarum. Dresdse, 1726, 8vo. Among these
words are factio, factiosus, fur, haeresis, hostis, latro, leno,
magus, obsequium, comitas, elegans, fcenerator, nebulo, par-
asitus, scurra, sophista, tyrannus.
Words which by use have become general appeUatives,
although originaUy only of some particular or accidental
circumstance, soldier (from sohdarius), premises, date,
patent, brief, brevet, breviary, chancel, cancel, fine, lease,
carpenter, post, stationer. 'Hhmla originally meant a class
I 2

116 EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
of equals in age, or equahty in age. Being most commonly
used for persons in the prime of life, it soon became con
fined to them, and at length acquired the sense of youth,
vigour, beauty — the attributes of youth. In the New Test.,
Matthew vi. 27, it is used for stature. (Vid. Hammond's
Annot. in loc.)
Compassion, hterally sympathy. In this sense it is used
by Cudworth. (Immutable Morality, book ui. c. 1, p. 81.)
' These sensitive cogitations are not pure actions springing
from the soul itself, but compassion with the body.' Hence
compatible for congruous, congenial.
General terms by use appropriated to a good or bad
sense. Good. Bad.
Presumptio (TcpoM-i'i^g) in the Presumptio, m the lower
classical age. Latin.
Experimental. Fatal.
Yeoman, from young man ;* Impertinent.
so Tlaig, puer, for sen^ant. Yaletudo.Object.
Patient.Instigate.
Accomphce.Emissary.Plausible.
Empirical.
The names of the categories in Greek being concrete, are
more philosophical than those of the schoolmen in Latin,
which are abstract. E.g. to •tto'iov, to •7r6(rov instead of
"TTotoTng, TToa-oTvg, quahtas, quantitas, ut. The evil of the
latter consists in their encom-aging a fancy that these acci
dents can subsist separately fr-om the things themselves.

Some think it is good-jusm. — Ed.

AMBIGUITY. 117

AMBIGUITY.

We are all prone to use words vaguely, and, therefore,
OTubiguously. People, however, are generally open to con
viction on this point, provided the several senses be made
to appear. But when once the ambiguity has been sanc
tioned by a didactic or scientific work, the error is riveted.
Thus, certainty of object being adopted as a logical notion,
it passes for an indisputable truth, whereas it is only an
extension, or an abuse, of the word certain. The latitude
of a word's signification is equally fallacious ^rith its am
biguity, or rather it is one species of ambiguity. E.g.
Worth, work, action, passion, disease, duty.
Mistakes and fallacies arise from supposing that the word
we now use always had the same sense it now has. StU-
lingfleet has some excellent remarks on this in his Irenicum,
part 2, c. 6, § 3. E. g. Missa, which originally was the
last word of the service, (ite, missa est),* came at length
to be applied (not simply to the service, but) to one more
solemn part of it; for the communion being administered
to a selected portion, a second dismissal was necessary for
these, and the word thus became appropriated to the Commu
nion service. The same holds of Homilies, Bishop, liturgy,
and Priests, Altars, &c., which gave rise to the sacrifice of
the Mass.
In Book ii. c. 2, of the Wealth of Nations, a remark
able ambiguity seems to exist in the use of the word
circulating, and to cause some confusion in the writer's
statement, particularly in pages 446, 447. The ambiguity
consists in using it at one time in a transitive, at another
in a neutral sense. In the former sense, money is a circu
lating capital, because its office is to distribute, or circulate
* Some ^hink it is Mess ; i. e. Coena. — Ed.

118 EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
the produce of land and labour. Here circulate is transitive.
But the phrase circulating capital is before constantly em
ployed in the neutral sense; viz. as that capital which is
circulated, or turned over from hand to hand. Dr. Smith
compares money to fixed capital, inasmuch as it circulates
commodities, like a wheel or other machine. And on this
ground he proceeds to demonstrate the advantage of paper
money, which he compares to an improvement in machinery
or fixed capital, being a cheaper method of doing the
same thing. The language here is hardly consistent with
that before used, p. 447, where money is called part of the
circulating capital, unless we understand circulating in a
transitive sense, not in the sense which the phrase bears
in the beginning of the chapter.
In fact, money ought not to have been reckoned as part
of circulating capital. It is an equivocation of the word
circulating. In p. 441, he says : — ' The fixed capital, and
that part of the circulating capital which consists in money,
so far as they affect the revenue of the Society, bear a very
great resemblance to one another.' They resemble one
another in all essential points, and therefore ought to have
been classed together. The mistake, I have no doubt, was
caused by the ambiguity of the verb to circulate noticed
above. When once a word has slid from its fii'st meaning, so as
to cover other ideas besides that, it is very difficult to recall
it. Men immediately set about accounting for this compre"
hension of different things under the same appellation ; and
nothing can convince them but that there is some common
nature which answers to it. The word clings to its new idea
as a man does to his estate, and, instead of quitting it, ran
sacks heaven and earth for a title. It is here too, as it is
with estates, possession is nine points of the law.
See an admirable example of a person puzzled by the

LOGIC. 119
various senses of a word, which he is vainly striving to in
clude under one general notion, in Stewart's Elem., vol. ii.
p. 213, from Montesquieu's use of the word Law.
This attempt at retaining all the senses of the same word
as one object of the mind, fatiguing as it is and requiring
some dexterity, is not unlike the action of the balancer who
keeps up half a dozen balls at the same time.
LOGIC.
Logic is properly an art of language. It has nothing to
do with reasoning except as expressed in words. AU the
remarks in Watts' Logic about the causes of false judg
ment are quite irrelevant to the subject. They belong as
much to pohtics or painting as to Logic.
D. Stewart's sketch of a 'Rational System of Logic'
(Human Mind, vol. i. p. 44), comprehends not only
Dialectic, but the laws of investigation, the division and
classification of the objects of human knowledge ; in short,
almost the whole province of the philosophy of the mind.
Duvalj in his Synopsis of Aristotle, p. 79, says : —
' Cum mens certis instituitur prseceptionibus et regulis ad
veritatis cognitionem sive quod idem est, dum Artem callet
bene disserendi.' This is a confusion, sanctioned, indeed, in
some measure by Aristotle himself, who, however, seems to
have had a clear notion of the distinct provinces oi philosophy
and argument. The greatest fault in his Dialectical trea
tises is the confusion of cause with reason. The object of a
syllogism is to show the necessary connection of the pre
mises and the conclusion. Hence, the Greek particle d^a is
a more proper word to introduce the conclusion than ergo.
It denotes the consistency and fitness of the parts. Hence,
also, auvofioT^oyoviABva, a-u//,(povBT, a-vvdht, dic6>iOu9a, and other
words of that description apphed to reasoning. Sequitur,
though not so philosophical as these, is better than efficitur.

120 EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
Dr. Campbell, in his Philosophy of Rhetoric, takes a
very erroneous view of the Scholastic Logic. In the Intro
duction, p. 11, he says : — 'Logic whose end is the discovery
of truth is founded on the doctrine of the understanding.'
This is tnily the end of the Baconian Logic, or the method
of Induction, but not of the Aristotelian, or Dialectic. From
the use made of the word logical and illogical in the same
treatise, one may collect that the author had in general the
right notion in his mind of the nature of Logic, although
when he writes expressly on the subject he is always in
error. Thus, in p. 350: 'But the patrons of this practice
will probably plead, that as the French is the finer language,
ours must certainly be improved by the mixture. Into the
truth of the hypothesis from which they argue, I shall not
now inquire. It sufficeth for my present purpose to ob-
sei-ve, that the consequence is not logical, though the plea
were just. A liquor produced by the mixture of two liquors
of different qualities, will often prove worse than either.'
Here he calls the consequence 'not logical' because it
silently assumes as granted a premiss which is not true,
viz. Whatever is mixed with some thing better than itself is
improved by it. If instead of the form of an enthymeme,
that of a syllogism had been used, Campbell would not have
called the reasoning illogical — he would have denied one of
the premises.
There is no just ground for the distinction which Stewart
makes between mathematical reasoning and all other reason
ing. The true nature is admirably expressed, Elem., vol. ii.
p. 152. (4to.)
But he absurdly contrasts the method and object with
that pursued in other sciences. This is confounding investi
gation with reasoning. In a note, p. 153, he quotes, with
approbation, Mr. Prevost, who says that Mathematics is on
this very account a science of pure reasoning, by which he
admits that reasoning, properly so called, consists in this veiy

SYLLOGISM. 121
process. Wherever reasoning enters into the other sciences
it is of this kind. But they consist also of investigation;
and in morals (but more especially in law) the investigation
is chiefly conversant with the meaning of words.
SYLLOGISM.
It is absurdly objected against the form of syllogism that
it presupposes more to be known than the conclusion it aims
to establish. Campbell, in his Rhetoric, joins in this charge.
But he might as well object to the structure of the human
mind, which invariably pursues this order [i. e. from generals
to particulars], when desirous of establishing a particular
position. Is it any objection to Cuvier's argument against
the existence of the fabulous Bull of Agatharcides, that he
adduces a proposition containing a universal truth ? His
argument is this :
No real animal has cloven hoofs and horns, and also teeth
adapted for cutting and devouring animal food.
The bull of Agatharcides has cloven, &c. ;
Therefore the bull of Agatharcides is not a real animal.
(Jameson's Cuvier, p. 77.)
The chapter in Locke's Essay on Reason is the weakest
and most ignorant attack on Syllogism that was ever penned.
At least, the persons against whom he writes must have had
most erroneous notions of its nature, if ever they represented
it as the means of acquiring knowledge, and extending our
acquaintance with the nature of things.
Some variations of Syllogism ought to be taught in trea
tises of Logic, as legitimate foi-ms of reasoning, because of
their convenience and frequent use : the /orce of them being
always deduced (in the first instance) from the ' Dictum de
omni et nullo.' Such are Hypothetical, Disjunctives, Di
lemma, &c. These resemble in their character the Data of
Euclid, which are an exposition of such facts as ai'e neces
sarily concomitant upon others already estabhshed ; and, to

122 EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
save the trouble of a tedious deduction (whenever occasion
may require the use of them), their necessary connection
with the prior facts being demonstrated once for aU, they are
then considered &% fixed principles equally with the other.
Syllogism is the crucible in which we decompose words,
and detect their ambiguity ; which, when they are employed
in all the admitted looseness and irregularity of expression,
escapes notice. Whenever such ambiguity is suspected in a
principal term, the simple expedient is, to construct a syllo
gism containing the term, and it will appear instantly whe
ther any foreign admixture adheres to its import. — E. g.
What happens every day is not improbable :
Some improbabilities happen every day :
Therefore some improbabUities are not improbable.
Here we are sure that the conclusion is not true^for it is a
contradiction in terms — and yet the form is regular. There
must, therefore, be an ambiguity.* Either the phrase 'hap
pen every day' is ambiguous, or the term improbable is not
used in the same sense in the premises and in the conclusion.
1. If by the middle term is meant a class of things which
happen daily, no one improbability can be said to belong to
that class ; and in this sense the minor premiss is false. Or,
2ndly, improbable may in the major premiss relate to an
assertion or opinion, and in the conclusion to a thing. ' That
some improbabUities happen every day is true, and therefore.'
Principles are acquired by induction, but if used syllogisti-
cally, generate new truths. Thus, Sir I. Newton reasons
downwards from the laws of light and matter to the solution
of minor phenomena. Thus, Bentley and Porson, from the
metrical canon they eUcited, deduce corrections of the texts
in words at variance with that canon.

* i. e. Supposing you admit — as most persons would — the truth of
each premise, taken separately. — Ed.

TIME. 123

LOGOMACHY.
'Les disputes des mots sont toujours des disputes de
choses; car tons les gens de bonne foi conviendront qu'Us
ne tiennent k tel ou tel mot que par preference pour telle ou
telle idee; comment les expressions habituellement employees
dans les rapports les plus vulgafres pourroient-elles inspirer
des sentiments genereux.' (De Stael, L'Allemagne, vol. iii.
p. 178.) This J.S true of those words which relate to human
conduct, history, and passions : but not of those which
regard science alone. And much confusion arises from a
notion, that when we use the same word we always mean
the same thing.
Locke, in reasoning against innate ideas, perpetually con
founds words with things, or definitions expressed in words
with the truths denoted by them. (See an excellent letter on
this subject, by M. Allamand to Gibbon, Gibbon's Miscell.
Works, vol. i. p. 436, 8vo.) TIME.'
One of the commonest errors is to regard time as an
agent. But in reality time does nothing, and is nothing.
We use it as a compendious expression for all those causes
which operate slowly and imperceptibly; but, unless some
positive cause is in action, no change takes place in the
lapse of 1000 years : e. g. a drop of water encased in a
cavity of silex.
The most intelligent writers are not free from this illu
sion. For instance, Simond, in his Switzerland, speaking
of a mountain scene, says, ' The quarry from which the ma
terials of the bridge came is just above your head, and the
miners are stUl at work — air, water, frost, weight, and time.'
(Vol. i. p. 33.) Thus, too, those politicians who object to
any positive enactments affecting the Constitution, and who

124 EXTRACTS FROM THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.
talk of the gentle operation of time, and of our Constitution
itself being the work of time, forget that it must be human
agency all along which is the efficient cause. Time does
nothing. SABBATH.
Calamy^s account of the manners and discipline of Utrecht,
where he studied in 1688, speaks of the disregard of the
Lord's Day, as a day of cessation from labour, or traffic,
or pleasure. ' Neither the French nor Dutch,' he says,
' used to confine themselves on the Lord's Days, except in
time of public worship, and the English were too apt to
grow like them.' (Life of Calamy, vol. i. p. 146.) To this
the Editor subjoins a note: 'This unsabbatical observance
of the Lord's Day, the well-known practice of Calvin, he
has ably defended, as a Christian, in opposition to a Judaical
observance. (See Calvin, Institut., lib. ii. c. 8, § 32-34.')
In another note, p. 147, the Editor says : — ' The foi-eign
Calvinists of the 17th century, with whom agreed the Lu
therans, objected to their English brethren's ' doctrines of
the Sabbath,' which sundry Divines of the United Provinces
ea\Ai\.e,A. figmentum Anglicanum, as related by Cotton Mather,
in his Ufe of Elliott (1694), p. 29.'
In the notes to Burton's Diary, vol. ii. p. 262, &c., are some
very curious particulars connected vrith this subject : e. g.
the emigrants to Newhaven, in 1637, upon the first settle
ment of their colony, enacted, under severe penalties, as
follows : —
' No one shall run on the sabbath-day, or walk in his
garden, or elsewhere, except reverently to and from Meeting.'
'No one shall travel, cook victuals, make beds, sweep
house, cut hair, or shave, on the sabbath-day.'
' No woman shall kiss her chUd on the sabbath or fastin"-
day.' See Paley's Mor. Phil., book v. c. 7.

SERMONS.

EXTRACT or A LETTER FROM THE BISHOP TO A FRIEND, ON THE
SUBJECT OF WAEBtTRTON'S WORK.
' Kilvert's Publication (Remains of Bishop Warburton) has my en
tire good wishes  Warburton's imperfect Book, the last of
those published, always struck me as more valuable than all the rest.
One single idea, which he meant to expand, — that according to the
very essence of the doctrine of Redemption through Christ, Moses
covld not have led the Jews to expect immortal life as the reward of
obedience — is so simple — apparently so obvious — that, from the mo
ment I read it, I was astonished at the universal cry against his argu
ment, which the herd of common-place Divines, in his own time, and
ever since, have raised. I was bold enough, or^ as some people said,
rash enough, to vindicate this very position in my University Ser
mons, when Provost of Oriel ; and I have more than once thought
I would close my literary life by working out this argument which
Warburton left unfinished. These papers will probably do the thing
that I thought of ; and of course do it more thoroughly and effec
tually.'

SERMONS.

SERMON I.

THE PROMISE OF THE LIFE THAT NOW IS.

1 Tim. iv. 8.
' For bodily exercise profiteth little : but godliness is profitable
unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that
which is to come.'

/^NE of the happiest effects of the preaching of the Gospel
^ undoubtedly is, that, the doctrine of immortahty and a
future retribution being firmly established, we are enabled to
reconcUe all the inequalities of God's Providence in this life.
And the utmost we can suffer here is so entirely dispropor
tionate to the rewards of eternity, that a sincere believer is
enabled to bear up even against death itself, vrithout any
abatement of that confidence which he is taught by his re
ligion to place in the justice and mercy of God.
According to the well-known argument of a great writer
of our Church, Bishop Warburton, the common or ordinary
Providence of God, without the doctrine of a future state, is
not sufficient to keep men stedfast in religious belief; and,
consequently, whenever this doctrine was wanting, as in the
Mosaic dispensation, the people were necessarily kept in a
sense of their dependence on God by an extraordinary Pro
vidence — dispensing temporal rewards and punishments in

128 THE PROMISE OF THE
so striking and regular a manner as to convince them of the
will and power of the Almighty. But when the christian
revelation was completed, these temporal sanctions being no
longer necessary, were, as he teUs us, entirely superseded by
those of future reward and punishment. The latter were
not merely called in to support and enforce the former, but
were substituted altogether in their room ; so that the Chris
tian has no reason to expect any portion of God's favour in
this life, by the most exact obedience, more than the unbe
liever. The general tendency of virtue to produce happi
ness, and of vice to cause misery in the constitution of
human affairs, I do not understand him to question — but
certainly to maintain that, as far as religion is concerned,
the Christian cannot expect, as such, a greater degree of
blessing in this life than the Jew or the Heathen.
It is far from my intention to combat the leading argu
ment which this great writer maintains, nor do I think the
strictures which I mean now to offer will at all invahdate his
main reasoning. That the promise of this life belonged to
the obedient Jew, and the promise of a future life to the
believing Christian, as distinguishing marks of ihe two dis
pensations — ^that the wisdom and power of God are strik
ingly conspicuous in the conduct and gradual development
of this scheme — that this view of the subject contributes to
explain and harmonise the whole of the sacred Writings —
and that it furnishes a convincing proof of the divine lega
tion of the Jewish lawgiver, are all positions which he ap
pears to me to have estabhshed beyond the reach of contra
diction. But in the support of his favourite theory, he seems to
have been led occasionally into statements more strict and
peremptory than the truth of Scripture warrants, and some
times to have advanced positions which, if unqualified, may
in their effects become injurious to the cause of religion
itself. Of this kind appears to be the doctrine he main-

LIFE THAT NOW IS. 129
tains of the exclusive privileges of the two covenants — con
fining absolutely temporal blessings to the one, and eternal
blessings to the other.
It is sufficient for every purpose of his argument that the
principal and characteristic feature of the two dispensations
should be respectively of this nature; but he is not content
with this, and labours strenuously to prove, that with the
promise of another life the Mosaic writings have no con
nection, nor the Christian with those of the present world.
It is a common failing, even of powerful and honest minds,
to be led by the heat of controversy to exaggerate a statement
favourable to one's own argument ; and, where an important
distinction is to be pointed out between two things com
monly confounded, to heighten the contrast by every artifice
of rhetoric as well as reasoning. And I cannot but suspect
that a weakness of this sort operated in the instance under
consideration. In the first place, sufficient allowance does not seem to
have been made for the hopes, however indistinct, of another
life, entertained by many of the Jewish Church, and exhi
bited in the Jewish Scriptures. And still more is the pro
mise held out to the faithful followers of Christ in the New
Testament reduced by him, and limited to narrower terms
than the express language of Scripture justifies.
On the former of these points it is not my purpose now to
enlarge. Indeed the learned writer hiniself does not push
this proposition to the full extent to which he carries the
other ; admitting that many patriarchs and prophets were
favoured by special revelation with a view of that better
country of which the Body of the People were wholly igno
rant, and which formed no part of the national religion.*
But he contends, without limitation, that the Christian has
no right to expect temporal blessings on the ground of any

* See Lessons on Religious Worship, L. iii. — Ed.

130 THE PROMISE OF THE
passage in Scripture ; and to the discussion of this point our
present attention will be principally confined.
In the part of his work which treats most professedly of
this subject he puts the following question : — ' Does the
Gospel disclaim in stronger terms its being a temporal king
dom, when Christ says his kingdom is not of this world,
than it disclaims temporal sanctions, when it says, ' Yea, and
all that will live godly in Jesus Christ shall suffer persecu
tion' (2 Tim. iii. 12), or than it disclaims an extraordinary
providence, when it declares that the Jews had the promise
of the life that now is, and the Christians of that which is
to come (1 Tim. iv. 8)?' — Wakb. vol. iii. p. 124. The latter
declaration he founds upon my present text, ' BodUy exercise
profiteth little; but godliness is profitable unto all things,
having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is
to come ;' and he proceeds to vindicate this interpretation,
applying the first clause to the Jews and the latter to the
Christians (which appears to me to be' an arbitrary and gra
tuitous distinction), in the following manner.
St. Paul, he says, is enforcing the advantages of moral
above ritual observances, in opposition to certain Judaizing
Christians, and means by the text just recited, ' that although
numerous ritual observances were enjoined by the Law, and
some there must needs be under the Gospel, yet they are of
little advantage in comparison of moral virtue; for that,
under both religions, the rewards proper to each were an
nexed only to godliness ; that is to say, under the Jewish, the
reward of the life that now is, under the Christian, of that
which is to come.'
Now, upon examining the chapter, it will be found that
this first view of the case is by no means a fair representa
tion. St. Paul is not merely instructing Timothy in points
of doctrine which he is to deliver, but he is earnestly ex
horting him as an individual to the exercise of godliness in
the pure and enlarged sense of the word, and he accompanies

LIFE THAT NOW IS. 131
his exhortation by such motives as seem most powerful and
impressive. ' The foolish stories of the Judaizing teachers
reject, but exercise thyself unto godliness (yui^vcc^e Js a-tavTov
wf05 Eva-B^Bim).' And the verse which follows seems evi
dently to bear this meaning : ' For the bodily mortification
which the Jewish fables are framed to recommend is attended
with little advantage ; but the exercise of godliness, that is,
the practice of piety and morality, is profitable for advancing
all our interests, temporal and eternal.' — Macknight.
StUl further to enforce his advice, he immediately describes
himself as being animated with the same conviction : ' For
therefore we both labour and suffer reproach, because we
trust in the living God, who is the saviour of all men, espe
cially of those that believe.' (1 Tim. iv. 10.)
Now the tenor of this, as of many other epistles, is to
prove that the dispensation of the Law is superseded by that
of the Gospel ; that what is peculiar to the former is either
done away, or perfected and swallowed up in the latter. If,
then, this promise of temporal blessing were a transient part
of the Law, already abrogated, how could it be introduced,
in the way we find it is by St. Paul, as a motive for the
exercise of godliness ? And if it be not abrogated, who
shall dare to diminish aught upon his own authority from
the revealed will of God ?
If we examine, too, the words of the following verse
already quoted, the same conclusion seems to follow, that
even in this life the favour and protection of God may be
expected by the faithful. ' We trust,' says he, ' in the
living God, who is the Saviour of all men, especially of those
that believe.' In what sense, then, is He their Saviour?
merely by granting them eternal salvation ? But how, then,
could He be called the Saviour of all men ? And still more,
how could He be said to be the Saviour especially of those
that believe ? What ground could exist for this distinction,
unless we suppose the Apostle to mean that the mercy of God
K 2

132 THE PROMISE OF THE
is extended to all men even in this hfe, but more especially
to sincere Christians ?
The author of The Divine Legation, however, in order to
give a demonstrative proof that his interpretation must be
right, and that temporal rewards are foreign to the natui-e of
the christian economy, appeals to the declaration made by
St. Paul to the Corinthians : ' If in this life only we have
hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable.' (1 Cor.
XV. 19.) Having observed that St. Paul is here addressing
himself to Jewish converts tainted with Sadducism, he sup
poses him to reason with them in this manner : ' You deny
a resurrection from the dead, or a future state of reward and
punishment. And why ? because there is no such doctrine
in the Law ? How do you prove it ? Because the sanctions
of the Law are temporal rewards and punishments. Agreed.
And now, on your own principle, I confute your conclusion.
You own that the Jews had an equivalent for future rewards
and punishments, namely, the present. But Christians have
no equivalent. So far from that, they are, with regard to
this world only, of all men most miserable; having, there
fore, no equivalent for the rewards of a future state, they
must needs be entitled to them.' ' From hence it appears,'
he adds, ' not only that the Christians had not, but that
the Jews had the promise of the life that now is.' (Ware.
vol. iii. p. 155.)
Seldom, perhaps, has a case occurred more illustrative of
the common remark, that a mind prepossessed vrith a
favourite hypothesis is apt to strain and distort every fact
into a conformity with it. Whoever reads the 15th
chapter to the Corinthians, divested of this prejudice, cannot
fail, I think, of seeing that the Apostle's reasoning is by
that construction entirely perverted. His object is to enforce
the doctrine of the Resurrection of the Dead, as a necessary
consequence of the Resurrection of Christ ; and this fact, the
Resurrection of Christ, had been attested by numerous eye-

LIFE THAT NOW IS. 133
witnesses, who could not possibly be deceived, of which
number he himself was one. And, as they could not be
deceived themselves, so had they no motive for deceiving
others. If in this life only we have hope, we are of all men
most miserable. We, who go about declaring these things, as
being what we have ourselves vritnessed, are everywhere
revUed and persecuted. It is absurd, therefore, to think
that we should forge this account, or deliver it at all if it
were not a great and important truth. That we, in this pas
sage, means the Apostles and preachers of the Gospel, not
the whole body of converts, is still further evident from the
separate mention St. Paul makes of the converts whom he is
addressing, and of those who had died for the faith. He
reasons on the absurd consequence of denying the Resurrec
tion in thi'ee distinct ways : — 1st. If Christ be not risen, your
faith is vain, ye are yet in your sins ; 2ndly. Then they also
which are fallen asleep in Christ are perished ; and 3rdly.
If in this life only we have hope, we are of all men most
wiserable. (1 Cor. xv. 17-19.)
The same personal argument is pursued presently after
with still more distinctness. ' And why stand we in jeopardy
every hour ? I protest by your rejoicing which I have in
Christ Jesus our Lord, I die daily. If after the manner of
men I have fought with beasts at Ephesus, what advantageth
it me, if the dead rise not ?' (Ibid, verse 30.)
Since, then, this passage from the Corinthians is declared
by the author of The Divine Legation himself to be tte
main support of that interpretation of the text which denies
to Christians any benefit in 'the life that now is;' and
since, upon a close examination, the meaning of this passage
is found to be widely different from that which he would
have it bear, we must needs return to the plain and obvious
construction which strikes the mind of every unbiassed
reader.

134 THE PROMISE OF THE
In prosecution, however, of his argument, the same author
considers other texts of Scripture which are commonly under
stood to announce God's blessing even in this life upon good
men, and endeavours to deprive them altogether of that mean
ing. Thus St. Peter had said, in order to quiet the excessive
fears which some members of the Church entertained of per
secution : ' Who is he that will harm you, if ye be followers
of that which is good?' (1 Pet. iii. 13.)
This passage he declares to be merely equivalent to that
saying of our Lord: 'Fear not them which kill the body;
but rather fear him which is able to destroy body and soul
in hell' (Matt. x. 28) ; and to this saying he supposes St.
Peter to allude.
Now the two texts, even when taken as single propositions,
are plainly of a different force and character. Oiu' Sariour
admits that vricked men may cause us much evil in this life,
but He bids us think nothing of this in comparison of that
evil which J;he displeasure of God will bring upon us. St.
Peter's proposition is, that men will be less disposed to do us
harm, if we be followers of that which is good. Our Saviour
is fortifying his disciples against those persecutions which
will attend them because of their faith. St. Peter contends
that the more exemplary their lives, the less liable will they
be to persecution.
The author of The Divine Legation, indeed, proceeds to
vindicate his intei-pretation in the following manner : — ' The
Apostle,' he says, ' as if he had it in his thoughts to guard
against this absurd vision of temporal sanctions, immediately
subjoins. But if ye suffer for righteousness' sake, happy
are ye.' (Warb. iii. 125.)
The appeal here made to the context for such a purpose is
most extraordinary. Instead of confirming the sense he is
desirous of putting on the former verse, the verse which
follows must be considered, according to every rule of

LIFE THAT NOW IS. 135
criticism and philosophy, as decisive the other way. ' But
and if ye suffer,' 'osax' e/ xat 5r«o-%oiTE hd ^matoaiv-nv,
/Aotxd^ioi — ^but even if ye do suffer— 6m# although ye should
suffer. The force of this connective is to introduce some
thing opposite to what has gone before. Now the interroga
tive sentence, 'Who is he that will harm you?' we have
considered to mean the same as ' men will not harm you.'
And thus, if any doubt could be entertained whether it had
that force in the writer's mind, the very next clause, intro
duced by the words, ' But even if,' determines the question,
for the idea that ' men will harm us,' is immediately treated
as an opposite supposition.
Of the other texts alleged in favour of temporal blessing,
and which the same author attempts to explain away in a
manner favourable to his own hypothesis, the foUowing are
the most remarkable : — ' I say imto you. That if two of you
shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask,
it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven.'
(Matt, xviii. 19.) ' And every one that hath forsaken houses,
or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or chUdren,
or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and
shall inherit everlasting life.' (Matt. xix. 29.) ' Seek ye first
the kingdom of God, and his righteousness ; and all these
things shall be added unto you.' (Matt. vi. 33.) And
again, ' If ye shaU ask any thing in my name, I will do it.'
(John xiv. 14.)
In answer to this he observes, ' That all does not signify
all simply, but all of one kind ; and of what kind the con
text must direct us to determine. When, therefore, the mem
bers of Christ's spiritual kingdom are promised they shall
obtain all they ask, this all must needs be confined to things
spiritual.' (Wabb. vol. iii. p. 126.) By means of this distinc
tion, one or two of the texts above recited may be overcome,
but the others must, by virtue of this very distinction, retain
the sense of things temporal. ' Seek ye first the kingdom of

136 THE PROMISE OF THE
God, and his righteousness ; and all these things shall be
added unto you.' Here the things specified are expressly
distinguished from things spiritual, and, therefore, to get rid
of these texts also, he has recourse to another rule of inter
pretation — ' that all the promises of extraordinary blessings,
made to the first propagators of the Gospel, are not to be
understood as extending to their successors of all ages, or to
the Church in general.' Nothing can be more indisputable
than this rule; but it is strange that so acute a reasoner
should fancy that it serves to demonstrate his interpretation
of these texts to be right, and his adversary's to be wrong.
The promises contained in them may possibly be among those
confined to the first preachers of the Gospel ; but he has not
proved nor attempted to prove that they are so; and, till
that is done, there is no reason why we should incline to a
sense which is most at variance with the literal expression.
It is remarkable, too, that in another instance, already
discussed, where St. Paul uses the expression, 'We are of-
all men most miserable,' and where the context proves that
what he is saying applies to himself and the other Apostles
not even comprehending the body of Corinthian converts
whom he is addressing. Bishop Warburton should have en
tirely overlooked this distinction; and, because his argu
ment required it, should have extended this declaration of
St. Paul, so as to embrace not only the early churches who
might be exposed to persecution, but the whole christian
Church throughout all ages. For, upon this single passage,
it will be remembered, he grounded his novel interpretation
of the text, that Godliness has no longer the promise of the
life that now is, since the Jewish dispensation has been done
away. It must, indeed, strike every reader of the New Testament
that Christians are anxiously taught to extend their views to
another life — to consider themselves as strangers and pil
grims on the earth — as having here no continuing city — to

LIFE THAT NOW IS. 137
regard the troubles of this life as slight irregularities, which
a future retribution will correct ; and which, since they are
the earnest of great rewards to follow, may be made the
subject even of praise and exultation. And who that re
flects on the early history of our Church can be surprised at
this ? Who can wonder at these repeated exhortations to the
newly-converted brethren, when every earthly terror was about
to surround them, by which their faith and constancy would
be tried ? It is not against this character in the scheme of
Christianity that any part of our present reasoning is di
rected. Nor would it be right to weaken the impression of
such arguments by leading men to expect worldly advan
tages as the natural and regular consequences of Godliness.
But we cannot consent to surrender those plain and merciful
encouragements to a religious life, although they may be of
the lower kind, which our Saviour and his Apostles appear
to hold out, merely because a different interpretation wUl
serve to round and complete an argument, already sufficiently
strong without that support.
Is it necessary, for instance, to confine the meaning of
our Saviour to heavenly blessings, when He expressly says :
' Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth' ?
(Matt. V. 5.) Such a construction has, we know, been at
tempted, but it tends to discredit all religion thus to extort
a sense directly opposite to the literal and obvious import of
the passage. The words are taken from the 37th Psalm, the
whole tenor of which is, that we ought not to be fretful and
impatient under adversity, but trust that the Lord will favour
those who are resigned and peaceable, and who steadily put
their trust in Him. But, according to the fancy of some in
terpreters, this verse in the Sermon on the Mount will mean
no more than that which presently after follows : ' Blessed are
they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs
is the kingdom of heaven.' (Matt. v. 10.) No words, how
ever, can be more strongly contrasted than the two sentences

138 THE PROMISE OF THE
are in the sublime simplicity of the original. Ma«a^ioi oi
TTpixBTg' oTi avTo) H7\npovofjt,ria-ov(n tw yHv  NLaxa^ioi ol ob-
d'lcoyfiBVOi BVBKBV ^MaioavVYii' on aurav Iittiv vi Pai(riXeia rav ou-
^avav. That better and brighter recompense is promised to
those who stand most in need of encouragement, and so tran
scendent is the nature of this reward, that it is continued
and enforced in still more emphatic terms. ' Blessed are
ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall
say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Re
joice, and be exceeding glad : for great is your reward in
heaven.' (Matt. v. 11, 12.)
Now, as we cannot admit that the meaning of these two
beatitudes is the same ; so neither can it be imagined that
the first would have been retained out of the Jewish Scrip
tures, if its temporal force was now about to be entirely
repealed. After the same manner we find St. Peter earnestly exhort
ing the converts to a meek and peaceable behaviour, as most
likely to secure to them God's favour and protection even in
the present life. The course of his reasoning, and its con
nection vrith our present argument, will, I apprehend, be
best perceived after a recital of the whole passage. ' Love
as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous : not rendering eril for
evil, or railing for railing : but contrariwise blessing ; know
ing that ye are thereunto called, that ye should inherit a
blessing. For he that vrill love life, and see good days, let
him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that they speak
no guile : let him eschew evU, and do good ; let him seek
peace, and ensue it. For the eyes of the Lord are over the
righteous, and his ears are open unto their prayers : but the
face of the Lord is against them that do evil. And who is
he that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is
good ? But and if ye suffer for righteousness' sake, happy
are ye.' (1 Pet. iii. 8-14.)
The foregoing part of this passage, which consists chiefly

LIFE THAT NOW IS. 139
of an extract fr-om the 34th Psalm, evidently inculcates the
duty of practising a mUd and inoffensive conduct, on the
ground that it secures the happiness of the present life, by
procuring to us the favour and protection of God ; and to
wards the close the Apostle as plainly adds, that such a con
duct commonly also is found to disarm the malice of men.
In this view it may be considered as a commentary or a para
phrase of the saying of our Saviour : ' Blessed are the
meek, for they shall inherit the earth.' But, when pro
ceeding to the consideration of those trials which it must be
the lot of many to undergo for the sake of the faith, after
the example of our Blessed Lord's same discourse, he also
rises both in the strength of the motives which he sets be
fore them, and in the warmth and energy of his language :
' Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial
which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened
unto you ; but rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's
sufferings ; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be
glad also with exceeding joy; ' 'Iva xafijTt dya.>.\ioiiJi,tvoi, leap
ing for joy, or transported with joy, at the greatness of the
reward which those sufferings shall have procured.
Although we admit, then, that afflictions in this world
must be the lot of many good and pious men, yet it seems
to be a doctrine both dangerous in its tendency, and not
warranted by Holy Scripture, that God's Providence will not
be exerted in any especial manner for the sake of those who
beheve in Him, and who earnestly implore his protection.
Undoubtedly we are taught and commanded to address our
selves to Him in time of need ; and shall we be told that
these petitions are of no avail, or that God lends not a more
willing ear to the supplications of his faithful servants, than
to the worldly-minded vrishes of those who disregard his
word? It will be no answer to this to say that riches and honom'
in this life are not real blessings, and therefore that they are

140 THE PROMISE OF THE
not the proper rewards to be expected from an all-wise Pro
vidence. We readily allow that in themselves they are of a
doubtful nature, and become good or evil according to the
mind of him who possesses them. But so says phUosophy
no less than religion. Hsec
Perinde sunt ut illius animus qui ea possidet ;
Qui uti scit, ei bona, illi qui non utitjir recte,,mala.
And so declares, in words equally explicit, a Jewish moralist,
the wise Son of Sirach : ' All these things are for good to
the godly; so to the sinners they are turned into evil.'
(Ecclus. xxxis. 27.) But this does not constitute the ques
tion upon which we are now discoursing. Whatever may be
the means and helps towards happiness in this life, the ques
tion is, whether the christian religion forbids us to expect
or pray for these, as any part of our reward.
And here I cannot but remark that the same powerful and
learned writer seems to have contracted his notion too much
of the nature of those temporal blessings which, even under
the Mosaic dispensation, were promised to the children of
Israel. As far as those blessings are of, a national kind, they
must by their very nature consist of external advantages,
wealth, population, fertility, success in war, peace, plenty,
and dominion; but by indiriduals, surely something more
than health, and long life, and opulence — some surer and
more infallible constituent of human happiness — was ex
pected as the reward of their obedience, even in this life.
The Psalmist, at least, is far from measuring the degree of
God's favour by the worldly prosperity of men, when he ex
claims that ' a small thing which the righteous hath is better
than great riches of the ungodly.' But the full consideration
of this subject would lead me too far from my present pur ¦
pose. It has, I trust, been made to appear that in the dis
pensation of temporal blessings there is not so entire and

LIFE THAT NOW IS. 141
absolute a difference between the Jewish and the Christian
economy, as that writer would have us believe ; and an in
quiry into the nature of those temporal blessings which the
patriarchs and prophets hoped for under the sanction of the
first covenant, would, I apprehend, bring them still nearer
together; a consequence this which I should not urge with
out hesitation, were I not convinced that the learned writer's
argument, when deprived of this adseititious aid, still re
mains solid and unshaken, and that the cause of truth never
suffers more than when the indiscreet zeal of an advocate, or
his fondness for theory, tempts him to warp plain facts and
authorities, in order to support it, and even to insinuate that
we must either adopt his interpretation, or at once abandon
our faith. The writer himself is indeed assisted in the con
duct of his reasoning by dravring his lines of distinction thus
broadly, and to the mind of the reader his argument assumes
a more attractive form, as being thus more easily grasped and
better remembered; but, in questions of such high moment,
we have a sacred duty to perform, which removes far out of
sight all these arts of composition. In them our prime
merit and excellence must always be, to deliver out the pure
word of God in simplicity and truth — to be careful not to
add anything thereto, as possessing divine authority, and,
above all, to diminish nothing from it.

SERMON II.
THE BETTER THINGS.

Heb. xi. 13.
' These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but
having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced
them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the
earth.' Heb. xi. 39, 40.
' And these all, having obtained a good report through faith, re
ceived not the promise :
' God having provided some better thing for us, that they without
us should not be made perfecti'
fyHE triumph of faith, in the midst of a corrupt world, is
in this epistle set forth by its inspired author not only
as an animating example to us who may be exposed to the
like trials, but as explanatory also of that scheme of re
demption which has been, by the goodness of God, carrying
on from the first loss of Paradise to the death and resur
rection of our Saviour Jesus Christ. The whole economy
of the Old Testament, both before and after the delivery
of the Law by Moses, is represented as having an evident
relation to the coming of Christ, in whom- are fulfilled all
the promises to the patriarchs, all the predictions of the
prophets concerning the great deliverance of the people
of God, all the typical ordinances of the Levitical law.
Much of this typical adaptation, it is well known, had
been already familiar to the Jewish Church; and in the
later periods more especially of their history, many had been

THE BETTER THINGS. 143
accustomed to regard the service of the tabernacle as sha
dowing out the office and the kingdom of the Messiah.
This belief, though neither popular, nor consistent, nor
firm, yet furnished a sufficient basis for that more explicit
instruction which St. Paul here pursues, and which he
combines, after his accustomed manner, with practical moral
precepts of the greatest purity.
These previous opinions and grounds of belief in the
minds of those whom he addresses, have been adduced,
among many other arguments, to disprove that demonstra
tion which Bishop Warburton thought he had given of the
Divine Legation of Moses, from the omission of the doctrine
of a future state of rewards and punishments in his law.
And the chapter before us in particular has been thought
to contain so plain a recognition of a salvation to come,
in all th6 patriarchs and prophets recorded in the Books
of Moses, as must be inconsistent with the notion that
Moses purposely kept this doctrine out of sight.
The charge against Bishop Warburton, which harassed
him throughout his long life, having been often revived
of late, and yet his work being, as it appears to me, one
of the strongest bulwarks that has been raised by man in
vindication of our common faith, it cannot be a useless
task to inquire into the cause of this strange difference of
opinion, and to impress more especially on the minds of
theological students the true character and limits of his
argument, as well as the caution with which it ought to
be received.
In the very statement of the question I conceive, as is
often the case vrith controversies of every kind, that a
material error is frequently involved. He has been repre
sented as denying that any evidence of belief in a future
state is to be found in the Books of the Old Testament ; and
as holding that Christ first brought this truth to the know
ledge of mankind.

144 THE BETTER THINGS.
Now, in order to ,set this matter right in the simplest
manner, it may be well to give the history of his work, as
it first had birth and gradually grew up to maturity in his
own mind. He tells us that in ' reading the Law and
history of the Jews with all the attention he was able,
amongst the many very singular circumstances of that
amazing dispensation (from each of which, as he conceived,
the divinity of its original may be clearly deduced), these
two particulars more forcibly struck his observation ; first,
the omission of the doctrine of a future state of rewards
and punishments in the religion of that people, no instance
of the like nature being to be found throughout the whole
history of mankind (in all the infinite variety of gentUe re
ligions this doctrine ever making a principal and most essen
tial part). The other was no less singular, that the founder
of this religion should pretend his dispensation was to be
administered by an extraordinary Providence; ....
no lawgiver or founder of religion ever promising the like
distinction; and no historian ever daring to record so sin
gular a prerogative.' (Vol. ii. p. 274.) Unaccountable as the
former circumstance appeared when considered separately,
yet when set against the latter, a strong light was imme
diately reflected from it/ and not only a reason found for
the omission, but that very omission became a proof of the
divinity of the religion. That he sought not such a support
for his government proved his own certainty of God's
supernatural aid; and the fact that his Government did
subsist for ages without it, proves the reahty of that super
natural aid or extraordinary providence upon which he confi
dently relied.
Under this view of the subject, it forms one of the most
distinct eridences of the truth of Revelation, and, as such,
I propose to detain your attention upon it for some time.
In following out the plan of his work, indeed, the author
is led to embrace the whole history and scheme of God's

THE BETTER THINGS. 145
dealings with mankind from the Creation to the Gospel of
Christ, connecting in his own way the several dispensations,
and reasoning upon the grounds and fitness of their several
parts, and their adaptation to the nature of man.
It is in the prosecution of this argument that he has
incurred the censure of many Divines, and doubtless there
are positions of his, and interpretations of Scripture, which
may well be disputed or rejected as erroneous. Into some
of these it may be my business hereafter to inquire; but
for the present it will be the clearest and most useful method
to regard his work in that more limited character, as proving
the divine Mission of Moses from the absence of that doc
trine which was so generally incorporated with all other
systems of government.
Of the obvious and apparent omission in the Levitical
Law there can be no doubt. It is observed by Divines of
all ages; and the solution commonly attempted, 'that under
the sanction of temporal rewards and punishments a more
spiritual meaning is hid, which in process of time was to
be unfolded,' by no means applies to the present question.
For we are considering the omission of it not as a defect
or blemish in a system of religion, but as a remarkable
phenomenon in civil government; the concealment, there
fore, of the truth under types by a wise lawgiver is as
much to be wondered at as its omission altogether; being
a voluntary abandonment of that support, which all other
potentates and civil governors had industriously provided.
The first part of Bishop Warburton's treatise, then, con
sists of an elaborate proof that religion is necessary to the
well-being of society, and that the belief in a future state of
retribution is necessary to religion, under the ordinary and
unequal dispensations of Providence. And this he shows,
not only by abstract reasoning on human nature and the
frame of civil society, but he enters upon a learned historical
inquiry into all the ancient governments of the world, proving

146 * THE BETTER THINGS.
from the most authentic sources that religion, with this doc
trine as part of it, was invariably employed as an engine of
civU government. He demonstrates not only the care of the
legislators in all these cases to propagate the doctrine, but
exhibits a vast deal of curious and profound learning in
explaining their contrivances for perpetuating this belief and
increasing its influence among the body of the people.
From the legislators he proceeds to the philosophers, and
shows how, notwithstanding their own infidelity, they all
concurred in maintaining the expediency of this doctrine.
After an accurate investigation of the rise and the opinions
of the several ancient sects, he demonstrates from the cha
racter and genius of each school, and from the writings of
each man, that none of them did indeed believe the doc
trine of a future state of rewards and punishments; thus
adding considerable force to the statement that it was
deemed by them all to be an essential prop to civil govern
ment. A further subject of inquiry, and one by no means in
different to his main argument, is the connection of these
several schemes of policy and philosophy vrith Egypt. To
Egypt, as the parent source, are traced both the fundamental
principles of policy which were adopted by the wisest law
givers of Greece, and the tenets of those schools of phi
losophy which sprung up and flourished among the same
people, from the first davm of literature among them, down
to the period of the Augustan age.
The application of these positions to his general reasoning
is obvious. Moses, we know, was learned in all the wisdom
of the Egyptians; and yet, unlike every other legislator
trained in the same school, he rejects the expedient which
forms the basis of their system, seeks no aid from the hopes
and fears of a future retribution, but declares plainly to the
stubborn race whom he is appointed to govern, that in this
life they are to expect the consequences of God's favour

THE BETTER THINGS. 147
or displeasure, according as they obey the laws he gives
them or not.
The second part of his inquiry, which is occupied in
proving the actual omission of a future state, in the law of
Moses, would not, I conceive, have met with much opposi
tion, had it been strictly confined to an examination of the
Levitical law; for the temporal nature of its sanctions, of
its blessings and curses, is so manifest, that the fact can
hardly be disputed. But under the same title. Law, is in
cluded the history of mankind prior to the separation of the
people of Israel ; the history of man's transgression, by
which he forfeited the gift of immortality, and of those
gracious communications which God was pleased to make,
from time to time, to a succession of patriarchs, by which the
hope imparted to our first parents of some future restoration
to his favour was kept alive in their minds. This book
formed part of the religion which Moses taught his people,
and if in this the doctrine of a future state was clearly
revealed to them, it could not be said that he rejected
entirely that means of enforcing obedience to his laws.
Accordingly, it forms the principal charge by the latest,
and, I may add, one of the most learned and candid (Faber)
of Bishop Warburton's opponents, that he has been a mis
taken interpreter of Scripture in regard to the Patriarchal
dispensation. Moses, as this very opponent admits, left the
doctrine of a future state as he found it (Faber, vol. ii. p. 154) ;
but the belief prevaUed in the patriarchal families; it formed
part of their religion, and to this religion the law of Moses
was added, but did not supersede it. Whatever opinions,
therefore, the Fathers maintained upon this momentous
subject, it must be presumed were handed down to their
posterity, and were cherished by the pious and good, as a
source of consolation through all the troubles and vicissi
tudes of this Hfe, and in the hour of death.
L 2

148 THE BETTER THINGS.
It might be inferred from this statement that Bishop
Warburton held, against the truth of Scripture and against
the express language of our own Church, that the early
Fathers looked only to transitory promises. On the con
trary, he is frequent and correct in inculcating that they
were favoured with special revelations, the object of which
was to keep alive the original hope mercifully conveyed to our
first parents, even in the sentence which condemned them —
' I will put enmity.' In no other sense would these words,
he says, have been understood, 'than that the evil spirit
which animated the serpent would continue his enmity to
the human race : but that man by the divine assistance
should be at length enabled to defeat all his machinations.'
(Book V. p. 387.) The promise of this ultimate dehver-
ance, God frequently renewed to the righteous patriarchs,
in sundry times and in divers manners, with greater or
with less degrees of certainty and clearness, once indeed,
in the illustrious instance of Abraham, giving a full per
ception of the intended means ; and in all cases, it may he
presumed, adapted to the exigencies of the occasion, and to
the preservation of that sacred deposit which was in after
ages to become the hope and consolation of Israel.
But vridely different is this hope from the doctrine of
a future state of rewards and punishments, as taught either
in the schools ,of philosophy, or as springing up naturally
in the mind of man, from a consciousness that good and eril
is not equitably dispensed in this life. The reasonableness
of such an opinion I would not be thought to question, but
it was a subject always involved in perplexity and darkness,
and never thoroughly brought to light till the resuiTection
of our Lord. Natural hopes and surmises of the same kind,
it is likely the Patriarchs and the Jews of later times might
entertain, building them on the same grounds with the rest
of mankind; but the revelations made to the Patriarchal

THE BETTER THINGS. 149
Church pointed to a more definite object — to the recovery
of that lost place in God's favour, from which the human
race, through the first transgression, had fallen.
Neither does it become us to say how far the patriarchs
were instructed in the nature of the dispensation thus par
tially announced to them. They saw through a glass darkly.
It was the trial of their faith not to have a clearer vision,
for their faith was the substance of things hoped for, the
evidence of things not seen. To suppose them reasoning,
therefore, vrith logical precision from the truth thus partially
revealed, inferring the doctrine of a future state of rewards
and punishments as a necessary consequence, and then in
culcating the same doctrine upon their children and their
friends, so that, iu process of time, it must have been the
popular belief, although Moses was sUent about it in his
law ; this mode of argumentation, I say, pursued by the
antagonists of Warburton, is quite unsuitable to the subject-
matter, and is contradicted by many analogous cases and
Holy Scripture. They knew, indeed, that God's promises
would sooner or later be fulfilled, and this confidence,
strong even in death, was felt by every succeeding patriarch,
to whom similar revelations were vouchsafed. But the
nature and circumstances of that blessed restoration may well
be supposed to have been hidden from their eyes. Whether
it would be effected by entry into a terrestrial paradise,
whether it extended to the whole of mankind, whether it
implied a reunion of the soul and body, and a judgment to
come both of the just and of the unjust, or an immediate
admission of the righteous into heaven, were points about
which it may be presumed their minds were not informed,
and into which they did not venture anxiously to inquire.
How vague and indistinct the notions may be, even of
those who place faith in any supernatural dispensation, is
abundantly evident from the example of the first disciples of
our Lord, and of those who were most attached to Him, and

150 THE BETTER THINGS.
who stood highest in his favour. The denial of Peter, who
had been present at his Transfiguration, is alone a sufficient
instance; and the plaintive confession of the disciples on
the road to Emmaus, after his death, ' We trusted that it
should have been he who should have redeemed Israel,'
plainly shows that the hope had forsaken them when they
saw Him expire upon the cross. It is not, then, just rea
soning, to argue iram. faith as we do from actual knowledge,
and to question the sincerity of faith, if all the consequences
logically deducible from it do not attend it. 'Lord, I
believe, help thou mine unbelief,' is the language of human
nature, to which an echo will be found, at some time or
other, in the breast of every believer.
Still we must not suppose, and the illustrjpus writer of
whom we speak is far from supposing, that Moses was
ignorant of the great truth which in due time the Redeemer
of mankind was to make known. To declare it to the
Israelites was no part of his commission. He had, as War
burton observes, to lay the grounds of this belief in that
very system of religion which was not designed openly to
teach it, but which, serving as a schoolmaster to bring them
to Christ, would, when the promised seed should come, afford
the strongest testimony to his person and his office.
In the meantime the gi'oss and carnal ordinances of the
Law were shown by a succession of inspired men to con
tain vrithin them a spiritual meaning; and, as ages rolled
on, the dark veil of the earlier prophecies was gradually
withdrawn by the latter. In many of these prophetic
writings the belief in a future state is clearly conveyed;
and the pious effusions of the Psalmist are often inapplicable
upon any other supposition. The fact, indeed, is certain
that the doctrine was generally received among the Jews
long befowe our Lord's appearance, and that they were fond
of interpreting their Sacred Writings in accordance with
It. This, however, it wiU readUy be admitted, is not incon-

THE BETTER THINGS. 151
sistent.with the fact contended for, that it formed no part
of the religious system taught by Moses. How the belief
found its way among them has been variously explained;
and very probably Warburton is mistaken in supposing that
they derived it from their intercourse vrith the Gentile world,
more especially during the period of the Captivity. His
latest opponent (Mr. Faber), who agrees vrith him that it
is not to be found in the Levitical law, regards it as part
of the patriarchal religion, in which he conceives it was
necessarUy involved, though not expressly taught; and
since the Levitical law was only added to this religion, many
traditional opinions of the patriarchs might be retained by
the' Jews as parts of their religious belief, of which this was
one. To others, again, it has seemed probable, and I confess
myself to be among the number, that the foundation of the
belief is laid in the moral nature of man, from which, and
from the consciousness of being accountable for our conduct
since this life rarely exhibits a perfect retribution, hopes
and fears must needs spring up that a just and benevolent
God vrill, some time or other, correct this inequahty. In
these hopes and fears (mingled as they necessarily were
¦with much uncertainty), the Jews would partake as well as
the rest of nlankind; and from the steady faith of their
own patriarchs and prophets under the calamities, and in
the close of life, they might reasonably draw the same
inference. However this may be, it is a misrepresentation of Bishop
Warburton's argument to say, that he denies this belief
either to the patriarchs or to the other inspired persons of
the Jewish Church; among whom it prevailed in various
degrees, proportionate to that disclosure of the method of
man's redemption which was imparted to them. In the
law of Moses, properly so called, it was not taught. Indeed,
it is hardly possible to conceive the existence of a sect such
as the Sadducees adhering, as we know they did, to that

152 THE BETTER THINGS.
law, had the doctrine of a future state been inculcated in
it. And the argument by which our Sariour refutes their
error, that ' God is not the God of the dead, but of the
liring,' applauded as it was by the Pharisees who heard
Him, and sound and just as the conclusion undoubtedly is,
yet is not deduced from that law of Moses about which
the present question turns ; it is from a passage of Scripture
antecedent to it ;• and, what is more, it eridently struck the
minds of his hearers as being something new.
But although the main outline of this great writer's
argument appears to me not only original and important,
but impregnable as the truth itself, yet I am far from
denying that the work contains many blemishes and many
errors. Of his arrogance and offensive petulance towards
his opponents, no justification can be attempted. The only
extenuation is to be found in the injurious treatment he
himself received, and in that keen sense of wrong and
ingratitude which a generous mind feels when valuable
services are requited with reproach ; and when some feeble
adversary succeeds, by misrepresentation and clamour, in
kindling the passions and prejudices of mankind, in drawing
away their attention from the real points at issue, and
in making their benefactor become the object of popular
odium. Let, then, these records of human infirmity lie buried
with the controversies that gave them birth. Still, in the
conduct of his argument itself, there is much that calls
for animadversion, and much for caution. The positions on
which his reasoning depends are often advanced in too
peremptory and unqualified a form; and, with the natural
anxiety and zeal of an eager advocate, he is too apt to
over-state his own case.
Thus, for instance, having discovered the close connec
tion between an extraordinary providence such as that which
Moses promised, and the omission of a future state in his

THE BETTER THINGS. 153
religion, he pushes the principle to an extreme, contending
that the one was an entire substitute for the other; that
obedience was invariably rewarded and disobedience punished
under the Theocracy; and that, under an ordinary prori-
dence, mankind could not entertain the slightest notion of
religion, except it were supported by belief in a future
state. Now, as it is certain, that during the patriarchal
dispensation religion did subsist, he is compelled, by his
own principles, without any scriptural authority, to maintain
that temporal rewards and punishments were the sanction
of their moral law also ; and that in the early ages of the
world it was so universally, until it was withdrawn on ac
count of the corruption and depravity of mankind.
Now it should be observed that, even under the Theocracy,
divine interference was not promised to correct positive
crimes. Murder, for instance, adultery, blasphemy, and
theft, were all amenable to a judicial process, in the same
way as in other communities. It was departure from God
and neglect of his religion, it was a violation of those duties
which human laws can never adequately enforce, against which
dirine punishments were threatened. And since the declared
purpose of this dispensation was to separate the Jewish people
from the rest of mankind, the favour or the displeasure of
God was to be displayed more in national prosperity and
national calamity than in minute discrimination of the
fortunes of private life. To these also, it is true, were the
promises and threatenings of God extended; but there is
no evidence of that immediate and exact requital which was
to supersede all hope of another life, and to bound their
views, as it were, of necessity to the present world.
The same disposition to heighten the effect of his argu
ment by the force of contrast is evinced in his interpretation
of the text, ' Godliness is profitable unto all things, baring
promise of the life that now is, and also of that which is
to come;' the first part of which he arbitrarily confines

154 THE BETTER THINGS.
to the Jewish Dispensation, and the latter to the Christian;
peremptorily declaring, that as the former had no ground
for reward in a future life, so the Christian has none in the
present. In like manner, when, in defending his main position that
the doctrine of a future state was no part of the Jewish
religion, he is led to examine the several passages of the
Old Testament which his opponents allege as proofs of this
persuasion of the writers, a needless anxiety is manifested
to deprive them of that meaning which almost all commen
tators have supposed them to bear. Into the particulars
of these disputed passages it is not possible now to enter.
They may hereafter furnish matter for separate discussion.
But what I am at present chiefly concerned to estabhsh
is, that it was not -necessary to his purpose so to explain
them. He had himself repeatedly observed that prophets
and holy men, at various periods* of the Jevrish history,
were gifted vrith revelations from God relating to another
life, and that these revelations, often dark and ambiguous,
increased in clearness as the dawn of our redemption drew
nigh. To this he might have added, that hopes of a future state
are natural to man, and that vestiges of a patriarchal tra
dition, conspiring with those hopes, may well serve to
account not only for popular behef among the people of
Israel, and for the kindred sentiments interspersed through
out their sacred writings, but for the stUl more remarkable
prevalence of such opinions in all the nations of the earth.
For that this doctrine was the invention of statesmen or
philosophers, however craftily it may have been improved
by them, must be reckoned, I believe, among the errors
which detract from the value of this great work.*
The same must be said of his endeavour to prove that

* See Sheblock, vol. i. Sermon vi.

THE BETTER THINGS. 155
empiatory sacriflce is not to be regarded as a dirine, or even
a positive institution, but as naturally arising out of human
sentiments, and from the exercise of human reason. For,
surely the doctrine of piacular atonement, through the sacri
fice of an animal victim, is a notion which can never be
traced up to the working of nature herself; and the uni
versal prevalence of the practice, not being founded in nature,
is one of the most striking evidences both of the common
origin of the race, and of that awful truth darkly inti
mated to our first parents when this significant rite was
appointed. This, however, together with some other questionable
opinions, is contained in the unfinished Book which appeared
after his death. It formed no part of the accusation so
vehemently urged by his living adversaries, and there is
good reason to think that, with the light now thrown upon
that subject by later Divines, his opinions concerning it
would have undergone a change.
At any rate, it must be admitted that the conclusion at
which he aims is the comer-stone of our faith, — namely, that
by the sacrifice of Christ alone we are restored to a capacity
of immortal life ; that by faith in his atoning blood we are
alone justified; and that faith is not true faith unless it
be eridenced by works. /
For those who object to this doctrine concerning the Cove
nant of Works (under which Covenant he maintained eternal
life was not promised), it may be well to bear in mind that
the opposite opinion was the constant stumbling-block of the
Jews of old, and that it is the grand impediment to their
conversion at the present day. They thought, as our Saviour
told them, that in the Scriptures of the Old Testament they
had eternal life. He bids them search the Scriptures, not
for the pui-pose of confirming this old opinion, but because,
says He, ' they testify of Me ; and ye will not come unto
Me,' He indignantly adds, ' that ye may have life.'

156 THE BETTER THINGS.
It is an error of the same kind which stUl separates the
Socinian from the true Church of Christ. He cannot brmg
himself to look to the sacrifice of the Redeemer as the only
door by which admission is gained to the kingdom of heaven.
To the correction of this error it is that St. Paul's reasoning
is continually addressed, in his epistles both to the Jewish
and Gentile converts. ' If the inheritance be of the law, it
is no more of promise ; but God gave it to Abraham by
promise.' (Gal. iii. 18.) ' If there had been a law given which
could have given life, verily righteousness should have been
by the law. But the scripture hath concluded all under
sin, that the promise by faith of Jesus Christ might be given
to them that believe.' (Gal. ui. 21.) 'But if righteousness
come by the law, then Christ is dead in vain.' (Gal. ii. 21.)
And more especially in this to the Hebrews he demon
strates that the promises of God, on which the ancient
Fathers relied, all pointed to the same event — an event, the
effect of which operates to the saring of the Faithful, as well
before as after its occurrence, from the first man Adam, down
to the latest of his sons that shall inhabit the earth. Who
ever, in short, loves the Lord his God with all his heart, and
all his soul, and all his mind, and with all his strength, can
not fail of accepting with thankfulness the proferred means
of salvation — that is (to use the words of our Sariour to the
beliering scribe), he cannot be 'far from the kingdom of
heaven.'

SERMON III.
I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH.

Job. xix. 25-27.
' I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the
latter day upon the earth : and though after my skin worms destroy
this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God : whom I shall see for myself,
and mine eyes shall behold, and not another ; though my reins be
consumed within me.'
TT has been well observed that there is one inexplicable dif
ficulty in rehgion, and one only (for aU the others resolve
themselves into this), namely, the extensive prevalence of
eril in the works of a vrise, a powerful, and a benevolent
Creator. This has been the problem which, from the begin
ning of time, has exercised the minds of all serious and re
flecting men, operating indeed differently, and leaving vridely
different impressions according to the various dispositions of
men, driving some to doubt the very existence of a God,
although the contradictions and absurdities of this opinion
are tenfold greater than any involved in that which they
vainly strive to account for; in others, giring rise to the
dismal theory of two independent deities of equal power,
exerting respectively a good and an evU influence in the
world ; while, in some minds, the melancholy apprehension
has- prevailed that God views with indifference the conduct
of men ; that the human race, like the several species of the
brute creation, is formed merely to occupy the surface of the
earth, to live according to their several instincts and ap-

158 I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH.
petites, without any higher or ulterior destiny than that of
the beasts that perish.
Now, without perplexing ourselves vrith the arguments
adduced on behalf of these several speculations, there, is one
important inference to be deduced from them all, which
coincides with the doctrine of revealed religion, and is in
perfect harmony with the scheme of christian redemption.
They all attest the fundamental truth, that this state of
things is not that for which the soul of man appears to have
been formed. They all originate in the acknowledged fact,
that we have a perception of right and wrong — a sense of
duty and a sense of justice — and yet that, in the course of
human life, things continually happen which shock this
natural judgment of ours, and which fill us vrith grief and
vexation and perplexity; that good men suffer, and wicked
men prosper, often without any possibility of correction or
requital during th'e remainder of their lives.
Distressing as this riew of things often is, and hurtful
sometimes to the religious impressions of men, yet so
essential and inalienable a part of human nature are these
impressions, that after an interval of doubt and gloom they
always return upon us vrith their original force notwith
standing the difficulty remains unexplained; and, however
unsatisfactory may be our attempt to remove this difficidty,
the mind readily acquiesces in the conclusion, that there
must be some ultimate pui'pose in these apparent UTCgu-
larities, which time will bring to light, and that it is the part
of true wisdom to wait with patience for that discovery which-
our faculties are confessedly unable by any effort to make of
themselves. In the meantime, it may tend to reconcUe us to this state
of imperfect knowledge, and to raise feelings of joy and
gratitude in ourselves, if we refiect upon the uncertainty in
which the best and the most favoured men of early ages
were doomed to live in this respect ; and if we draw a com-

I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH. 159
parison between the scanty measure of revelation vouchsafed
to them, and that fuU information concerning a future state,
and the proper use to be made of the inequalities of the
present life, which is imparted to us in the Gospel.
On this account I have proposed for our present con
sideration one of the most striking passages of the Old
Testament, not only as affirming a belief that God wUl
ultimately reward every man according to his works, but as
grounding this belief upon the intercession of a being here
after to appear as the deliverer of mankind from the power
and mahce of the deril.
The Book of Job is indeed one of the most interesting
records in the sacred volume, not merely on account of its
pathetic and sublime character, but as an important link in
the progressive scheme of revealed rehgion. How it came to
be introduced into the Jewish canon will ever remain un
known, but that it was part of the Hebrew Bible many cen
turies before the preachiag of the Gospel there is no doubt ;
while it is equally certaui that the writer makes no allusion
to the law of Moses, and may therefore, considering the
nature of his subject, be fairly presumed to have been un
acquainted with it, for it is hardly possible to imagine that a
devout worshipper of the one time God, as the author of this
book undoubtedly was, should, -in the many solemn reflec
tions, and the copious digressions he makes on the wonder
ful deahngs of God vrith the sons of men, have been wholly
sUent respecting this miraculous dispensation, had it then
taken place; or that to such a man, to so gifted and so
privileged a man, the dispensation itself should have been
unknown. By many learned men it has been supposed to be a sacred
book, approved and introduced by Moses into his own
volume, and preserved from perishing there, like the pro
phecy of Balaam, found among the spoil of the Midianites.
At any rate, the only reasonable inference is that it is more

160 I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH.
ancient than Moses, and more ancient than the gross idola
tries and corruptions of Egypt. The writer does indeed in
one passage allude to the worship of the sun and of the
heavenly bodies, as an offence from which he was free,
stating at the same time that if he had been guilty of it, the
law of his cotmtry would' have justly punished him.
' If I beheld the sun when it shined, or the moon walking
in brightness ; and my heart hath been secretly enticed, or
my mouth hath kissed my hand : this also were an iniquity
to be punished by the judge : for I should have denied the
God that is above.' (Job xxxi. 26-28.)
It should seem from hence, that the grosser superstitions
which afterwards debased the gentile world had not yet pre
vailed, and that even the worship of the heavenly bodies,
although the commencement and the original source of all
these corruptions, was so far in its infancy as to be forbidden
by the government of the land in which Job lived.
Upon the whole, then, this book niay be regarded as a
sacred relic of the patriarchal church — that church which
was older than Moses, for it is as old as the race of man —
that church which was preserved from utter corruption by
the institution of the law of Moses, and which, through the
medium of that law, was finally perfected in the Gospel.
It is hardly necessary for me to remind you that the book
describes the case of a righteous man suffering the extremity
of affliction, by the loss of property, of chUdren, and of his
own bodily health, through the temporary persecution of the
eril spirit, permitted for a season by Almighty God, as a trial
of his faith ; that the friends of his prosperity regard these
sufferings as visitations of divine vsrath for his sins; and
that in the anguish of his heart, increased by this aggrava
tion of his calamity from the mouth of those who should
have brought him comfort, he indignantly rejects their in
terpretation, breaking out at times into the most bitter com
plaints of the hardship and cruelty of his case. Although

I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH. 161
he humbles himself in the sight of God, before whom not
the angels themselves are pure, he denies that his sin is
greater than that of those who thus upbraid him, and of
many others who are exempt from such plagues ; and in the
language of the text, he confidently declares his belief that,
as God is just, a time vrill come when his sufferings will
cease, and his wrongs vrill be redressed in his own person.
It vrill be useful here to bestow a little attention upon the
argument of his friends, because mankind are ever prone,
especiaUy those who have the word providence continually
in their mouths, and who are (as Job's friends were) religious
men, deeply impressed with a sense of God's attributes and
overruling power, to make the same rash construction of any
extraordinary calamities by which an individual is over
whelmed. And if, to all outward appearance, this individual
had been a man of piety and integrity, held in good repute
by aU around him, they are too apt to suspect, and some
times boldly to assert, that he must have been guilty of some
secret sin for which this heavy punishment is infiicted.
Such wrong judgment is, however, much more inexcusable
in the Christian, than it was in these early patriarchs.
They had been accustomed to hear of promises and threaten
ings of a temporal kind as being the ordinary indications of
God's favour or displeasure. They had not been instructed,
as we have been, by the mouth of our Saviour, that the
victims of the devil's or of man's malice, whether their blood
be shed by a tyi-ant's edict, or by the accident of a falling
tower, are not therefore to be accounted more sinful than the
rest of mankind ; nor had they been taught, as we have, by
the pen of an Apostle, that many of the chosen servants of
the Lord, if in this hfe only they had hope, would be ' of all
men most miserable.'
¦ But let us admit that in that early age there was some
excuse for the uncharitable mistake, yet the argument of the
work proves it to be the design of the vfriter to refute this
M

162 I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH.
notion, not only by the introductory part, which plainly
declares that Job is righteous, and that the infliction of dis
tress is permitted merely for a time as a trial of his faith, but
by his restoration, in the close of the book, to temporal
prosperity. This, it should be observed, was the only eridence which
the nature of the case admitted to conrince those around
him of their error. To us, who have had the clear hght of
gospel truth thrown upon this point, the same proof would
not be wanting; but as the object of the writer unquestion
ably was, to correct the popular error that the good and eril
of this life are proportional exactly to the deserts of men,
and to teach them to trust in God, notwithstanding the in
equalities which they see and are unable to account for, we
may look upon this latter part as representing merely the
sacred moral he has been incidcating in a form adapted to
popular use, and as necessary to the completion of his maiu
purpose. Various have been the opinions concerning the form and
character of the composition. By some it has been regarded
as the narrative of a real transaction; by some as a mere
instructive fiction ; by others, and these the most judicious,
as a poetical composition founded upon real characters and
upon matters of fact. The dramatic form of the whole work
favours the last supposition, and the opening scene, in which
Satan is represented as arguing with the Almighty, and
receiring a formal but limited commission from Him, can
hardly admit of any other explanation. Its object is spiritual
instruction, and the machinery employed must be spiritually
understood. Such being the scope and structure of the work, its object
would have been altogether defeated if, after a faithful en
durance of the appointed trial, no reward had been bestowed;
if the righteous man, thus made a spectacle of to men and
angels, tomented by the evU spirit, and deprived of every

I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH. 163
earthly blessing, had been permitted to sink into the grave
vrithout any manifestation of divine favour. This catastrophe
Job himself was prepared to submit to, and his reward in
another life would have been doubtless proportionate to his
fidelity. But where would, then, have been the efficacy of
his example? Where the encouragement in that age to
others to put their faith in God ? In that age, I repeat, when
the promises of the Gospel were as yet but partially revealed ;
and when their full and final development could not be made
vrithout anticipating that gracious dispensation, the coming
of our Lord in the flesh, which was stUl a mystery that even
angels in vain desired to look into.
Doubtless, to the patriarch himself, the firm persuasion of
some future scheme of mercy would have been an adequate
support; but to those for whose sake the volume was
written the result must have been inexplicable, or, rather, it
would have added one signal instance more to the intricacies
of divine proridence, and, instead of fortifying their faith,
would have plunged them stiU deeper into perplexity and
error. It is by no means necessary, howev as some commenta
tors have done, to interpret the words of my text as if it
related to future prosperity in this world, or as if this change
of fortune was the kind of deliverance which Job expected
from his Redeemer. This sense is not only at variance with
the natural and obvious meaning of the words, but at variance
also vrith the sentiment uttered by the sufferer in his agony
immediately before.
' Oh that my words were now written ! Oh that they
were printed in a book ! That they were graven vrith an
iron pen and lead, in the rock for ever 1' (Job xix. 23, 24.)
By this exclamation he plainly intimates that he expects no
sudden restitution to happiness, that his prospects in this
life had closed; but he is anxious that some record should
remain after his own dissolution of his asserted innocence,
M 2

164 I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH.
and of the firm faith in which he died. Whatever becomes
of my body, he says, I am sure that God wUl not finally for
sake me. But this ardent desire to leave a lasting monument
of his faith is not to be reconciled with the notion that his
hopes were directed to a temporal deliverance. Had such
been his meaning, the iron and the lead would have been
needless instruments, he himself would have been the Uring
monitor ; and not his pen, but the pen of others, would have
handed down the lesson to remote posterity.
Regarding, then, the passage before us as a splendid testi
mony to that eternal truth which, ever since the FaU of man,
has been at sundry times and in divers manners, and with a
greater or less degree of clearness, imparted to the chosen
servants of God, I will employ the remainder of this discourse
in endeavouring to impress upon your minds a point which
seems generally to have been overlooked in all discussions of
this nature, but which appears to me capable of removing
the greater part of the difficulty involved in them, and which
is at the same time full of hope and consolation to the pious
Christian. Most of the reasoners on this question treat it as one
which admits but of two answers, either that man has no
hope and no concern beyond the present life, or that there
will be a spiritual and immortal state after death, in which
men wUl receive a just recompense for all that is done in the
body, whether good or evil; and the inquiry is generaUy
proposed under this form — Whether the old fathers and the
wisest of the heathen world beheved in the immortality of
the soul or not ? as if the whole of the question lay within
that compass.
But the real fact is, as we learn from the books of Moses,
that the revelation of a future spiritual state, such as is
brought to light by the Gospel, was never distinctly present
to their minds. They had a constant tradition, indeed, and
the belief naturally grew up in their minds, that God had

I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH. 165
some further purpose for their benefit ; that there was a
scheme of mercy sooner or later to be revealed ; that it was
their duty to wait with patience for this day of deliverance,
and to trust that God would never idtimately fail them, how
ever dark and threatening the prospect might be in the pre
sent world, not even though they should breathe out their
last, and sink into the grave before his promise should be
fulfilled. This principle of faith was kept alive in the family
of Abraham, sometimes faint and wavering, at others strong
and unconquerable ; and in order to its better preservation
that symbolical revelation was made to Abraham of the
future sacrifice of Christ, to which our Saviour refers when
He says, that Abraham saw his day and was glad. But in
the rest of mankind it became at length either corrupted
with idle fables and fancies, or wholly lost in the reprobate
moral condition into which the world had fallen. There are,
however, manifest traces, even among the heathen nations, of
a belief in some mighty deliverer, who should one day arise
and vindicate the providence of Almighty ' God, and release
mankind from the dominion of eril.
Still, under the purest form of belief, the nature and the
manner of this deliverance was imperfectly conceived. The
wisest and the most pious presumed not to inquire curiously
into the hidden counsels of God. They acquiesced in a fixed
general persuasion, but a confused idea, of restoration to a
state of happiness after death ; but whether this was to be a
terrestrial paradise or a glorious earthly kingdom; whether
aU men would partake of it, or only those who served the
true God, or those of a chosen race, it was not for them to
say. Many vain conceits and unauthorised opinions were in
the course of time mixed up with the belief; and among the
Jews, in the latter ages of their history, it was commonly
united vrith the hope of temporal deliverance, and of a
commencement of some new era of earthly glory at Jeru
salem.

166 I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH.
It is needless to particularise here the various fancies cur
rent among them about the resuiTection, all originating in
that universal, though vague and obscure notion, of a future
and improved order of things, in which the righteous and
the vricked should have their respective recompense, but all
corrupted, more or less, with the opinions and inventions of
men. ' Thus some believed that there would be a partial re
surrection of the just only, and to this opinion, as an eiTO-
neous one, St. Paul alludes, when, in his pleading before
Felix (Acts xxiv. 13), he says of the generality of his country
men that they allowed there would be a resurrection both of
the just and of the unjust. Others imagined that there would
be a partial and a previous resurrection, a reign of saints at
Jerusalem, for a thousand years before the general restora
tion of all things. But I will not detain you with any more
of these varieties. Suffice it to say, that the disciples of our
Lord were to the very last possessed vrith the same confused
expectations. ' Lord, wilt thou at this time restore the king
dom to Israel ? ' was a question put to Him after his resur
rection; and it plainly shows how deeply rooted in their
hearts was this popular persuasion, and how ignorant they
yet were of that pure, and spiritual, and eternal kingdom,
which Christ has prepared for them that unfeignedly love
Him. The question, then, frequently asked, whether the ancients,
Jewish or heathen, believed in a future state, ought always
to be answered with this explanation : their belief was vague,
confused, vacillating, uncertain, mixed with many false ima
ginations, and many superstitions. Still there was a foun
dation in truth. There was a parent germ from whence had
shot forth a multitude of vrild and preposterous opinions ;
and even those who were freest from error confessed that
they knew not what the will of God was in this respect,
although they had the firmest confidencean his goodness and
his justice ; and this confidence it was which sustained them

I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH, 167
under all the trials of life, and in the hour of death
itself. Many pious men have indeed wondered that this doctrine
of a future state of retribution is not more clearly set forth
in the law of Moses, not considering that a clear declaration
of future recompense, according to the conduct of men in
this Ufe, would have been inconsistent with the whole
economy of man's redemption. How is this glorious reward
to be obtained ? By man's works ? Is any man pure in
the sight of God ? Was not the whole race lying under the
sentence of God's displeasure? Was not his heart con
tinually prone to evU, and to carnal things ? Was he able
of himself to rise from this degraded state ? to pay the for
feiture of his transgressions ? or to recover the lost favour of
God ? No ; hardly could he live so as to avert the dirine
displeasure here upon earth, much less to deserve the reward
of eternal happiness in heaven. It was through a mediator
that he was taught to expect this blessed consummation ; a
mediator who should offer himself a ransom for the sins of
men, who should pay the debt they had incurred, and by his
own righteousness and his own sufferings bring thern back
to the' kingdom of his Father.
Until the fulness of time, therefore, was come for the
appearance of this mighty Sariour, any absolute promise of
eternal life, even for the best of men, would have been pre
mature. It would have contradicted the very fundamental
article of our faith, for it is through the blood of Christ only
that we have admission to that heavenly sanctuary ; and until
that blood was shed, and the mystery which had been kept
secret from the beginning of the world had been made
known, no man had authority to say, however he might hope
and believe, that his sins would be forgiven, and his good deeds
be had in remembrance in the sight of God.
To us, my beloved brethren, — thanks be to God and our
Lord Jesus Christ, — to us, these animating objects are no

168 I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVETH.
longer matters of speculation and of distant hope, but of
undoubted promise and firm assurance. It is not merely the
dim prospect of a better country which supports us, as it did
the patriarchs of old, in our earthly pilg-rimage, but the clear
and unclouded riew of that heavenly inheritance to which
Christ is the way, and the only way. He came down from
heaven, that He might exalt us to it ; He took our nature
upon Him, that He might restore its original purity ; He
suffered, and died, and rose again, that He might reinstate
us in that perfection of happiness, the love of our heavenly
Father, from which we had by transgression fallen, and which
no efforts or merits of ours could again have placed within
our reach.
To Him, then, who has called us out of darkness to the
marvellous hght of his Gospel, be all praise, honour, and
glory, and thanksgiving in the churches of the saints, world
vrithout end.

SERMON IV.
DISAPPOINTED EXPECTATIONS OP THE FIRST DISCIPLES.

LlTKB xxiv. 21.
' But we trusted that it had been he which should haVe redeemed
Israel.' »¦
HHHE particulars of this remarkable interview between
our Saviour after his resurrection and two of his dis
ciples on the road to Emmaus are preserved by one of
the Evangelists only. St. Luke, to whom vve are in
debted for the greatest number of incidents unnoticed by
the rest, relates the whole transaction vrith an air of so
much tiuth and simplicity, that he has, not vrithout reason,
been regarded as baring been himself the companion of
Cleopas on that occasion. The suppression of the name
accords well with the practice of the sacred historians in
similar cases ; and this modesty, which is common to them
all, is observed by Michaehs (without any reference to the
case before us) to be peculiarly characteristic of St. Luke.
But whatever weight may be thought due to this circum
stance, an attentive perusal of the whole narrative Certainly
tends to strengthen the supposition that it was told by an eye
witness — by one who is describing what he himself saw, and
heard, and felt. The gestures of our Lord when He arrived
at the village, ' and made as though he would have gone
further,' their own friendly entreaties, and even constraint,
expressed in the word Tra^B^idaavro, are circumstances which
a reporter at second hand would hardly have preserved.

170 DISAPPOINTED EXPECTATIONS OF
WhUe the frank comparison of their feelings, 'Did not our
heart burn within us while he talked with us by the way,'
natural and obvious as it was at the first recovery from their
surprise, and therefore likely to form part of their narrative,
whenever they had to convey it by word or writing them
selves, yet is not that which a compiler would have incor
porated into a brief history collected from the mouth of
others. Of the same kind is the phrase 'their eyes were
holden,' Bu^arouvro, a most apt and expressive term certainly,
but one which seems also to indicate a lively consciousness
of what the narrator felt ; since the fact itself, ' that they did
not know him,' would alone have been sufficient for the
story; as we find St. John, when describing a case exactly
similar, viz. the appearance of our Lord to Mary Magdalene,
simply says, ' She turned herself back, and saw Jesus stand
ing, and knew not that it was Jesus.' (John xx. 14.) Now
since we have it on the express testimony of two ancient
Fathers, both of Origen and Epiphanius, that St. Luke was a
disciple of our Lord, and that he was one of those seventy
whom He sent two and two before his face (as labourers in
his rineyard) (Luke x. 1) ; and since he has been made the
instrument of communicating to the Church one of the ori
ginal writings upon which our faith must rest for ever, there
is a strong concurrent probability that he was distinguished
by this particular manifestation of our Lord's person; and
thus that, when we read the account of this awful trans
action, it is in the words of one who was himself a party,
and who describes honestly and forcibly the feelings which
then possessed him.
Let it not be coldly objected that these inquiries are vain
and superfluous. There cannot be a fitter subject even of
literal^ study to a Christian, than the sacred history, in its
most minute particulars. Whatever is connected with it,
whatever can tend to make us better acquainted with the
times, the persons, the places, which are the groundwork of

THE FIRST DISCIPLES. 171
that wonderful dispensation, must impart a livelier concep
tion, as well as a more distinct and habitual remembrance, of
the dirine economy. Surrounded as we are by objects of
sense, for ever soliciting our attention, it is well if we can
multiply the means of fastening- on our , notice "those
heavenly truths, of throwing ourselves back into the scenes
which were then acted, and of making them, as it were, pre
sent ones to our minds.
Such, we may rest assured, will be the effect pro
duced upon every well-disposed mind by an accurate in
vestigation of the Holy Scriptures; and if there be any
intellectual pleasure we may safely call pure and inno
cent, it surely must be that satisfaction which arises from
a discovery of anything conducive to piety, and faith in
God. In the passage more immediately under considera
tion, almost every one will admit that the characters of truth
and sincerity are strongly marked; and we have the acknow
ledgment of one whose taste was eminently good, but who
Would not profess his belief in Christianity, that he never
could read the story vrithout being wonderfully affected, and
he thought that if the stamp of dirinity was anywhere to be
found in Scripture, it was risibly impressed on that passage.
But there is one point in particular which seems worthy of
being selected as a fit subject of attention on this day, be
cause it leads to an argument for the reality of our Lord's
resurrection, more conclusive perhaps against the adversary
than any other, inasmuch as it rests upon facts that are un
disputed on both sides. It is that declaration which the
disciples make after informing the supposed stranger ' that
Jesus had been condemned to death by the chief priests and
rulers, and had been crucified.' Immediately they subjoin,
'But we trusted that it had been he which should have
redeemed Israel,' thus plainly declaring that, according
to their notions of Scripture, this hope had not been
realised, that their confidence had been shaken with his

172 DISAPPOINTED EXPECTATIONS OF
death, and that they had stiU to seek for that deliverer
of their nation from Gentile bondage whom the prophets
had foretold.
It is indeed one of the most remarkable features in the
Gospel history, that the disciples should have persisted so
long and so uniformly in this mistaken notion of the nature
of our Lord's mission. That they expected a temporal king
dom, in which they were themselves destined to act a con
spicuous part, and to enjoy all those advantages which man
kind are wont to ascribe to worldly greatness, is tpo notorious
to admit of dispute. This confident expectation was common
to them all ; but we may well imagine that it partook some
what of the peculiar cast and temperament of each man's
mind. In most of them it was probably united with a feel
ing more virtuous than mere personal ambition. Their
country, it should be remembered, was then in bondage, its
political existence destroyed, its wealth drained by oppressive
extortion to fill the Roman treasury, and pay the foreign
troops employed to keep them in subjection. It was a cause
therefore sufficient to arouse all their best and noblest feel
ings, even if it promised nothing more than the deliverance
of theif nation from this grievous yoke, and as such, by the
common consent of mankind, it would have been entitled to
the most exalted praise. But vrith the Jewish patriot there
was yet a stronger motive. It was not his country only that
he hoped to rindicate, but the honour of his God. His law
was his religion also, and whUe the one remained in bondage,
the other was in his estimation insulted and profaned. In
the fond prospect, therefore, of asserting the kingdom of the
Messiah, all the most sublime objects were included which
could be presented to his imagination. He was taught from
his infancy that the time must come when this mighty de
liverer would appear; that it had been promised by the sure
word of prophecy, which could not faU; and though much of
their prophecies might relate to a new order of things more

THE FIRST DISCIPLES. 173
happy and more glorious than had hitherto been seen on
earth, yet on earth it was fully expected that they would at
last be realised, and that the change, whatever it should be,
would begin at Jerusalem.
If vrith these purer motives some alloy was mixed of
human passion and infirmity, we cannot be much surprised.
Many were the occasions on which our Lord's authority
could scarce restrain the natural selfishness of his disciples,
as they aimed at superseding one another, and seemed to
court their Master's favour with a view to this species of pro
motion. Even at the Last Supper there was a strife among
them 'who should be the greatest;' and when we recollect
the solemn nature of that occasion, and the frequent ad
monitions they had received on this very point from our
Lord, we cannot desii-e a stronger proof that this prejudice
respecting the nature of his kingdom was deeply fixed in
their minds, and that the hope of attaining some distin
guished rank in it was their ruling passion. In pursuance
of the same argument, it may be allowed to mention a plausi
ble hypothesis at least of one of our most pious and learned
harmonists respecting the motives which actuated the traitor
Judas. After a minute investigation of the case, this com
mentator inclines to the opinion, that the object of Judas
was not to procure the death of his Master, but that, being a
man of base and sordid passions, eager for those rewards
which he, like the rest, expected to derive from Christ's king
dom, and impatient of the long delay, he determined to bring
the , matter to some crisis ; thinking perhaps that Christ
would be driven to assert his dominion when the power of
the chief priests was brought to act against Him, and when
He would either be compelled to resist, or at once to abandon
his pretensions. When, therefore, contrary to his expecta
tion, he found that Christ was overpowered, and led away to
be crucified, smit vrith anguish and remorse at the horrid

174 DISAPPOINTED EXPECTATIONS OF
crime which he had committed to no purpose, he sought
relief in death from the terrors of a guilty conscience.
However this may be, it is certain that the whole Body of
the disciples clung to the error with an obstinacy almost un
accountable. Our Saviour had often been so direct and ex
plicit, that one is apt to fancy they could never have been
mistaken. He had told them that He was going up to
Jerusalem, where all things that were spoken of Him in the
prophets should be accomplished ; that He should be delivered
into the hands of the GentUes ; that He should be mocked,
spitefully entreated, and crucified ; and that on the third day
He should rise again.
We are indeed expressly informed that these sayings were
hidden from their minds, and that they understood not what
they meant ; and it is certain that a considerable time, preg
nant vrith remarkable events and much earnest instruction of
various kinds, intervened before they were accomplished.
Still it can hardly be imagined that the disciples would have
remained blind to the true nature of what was then doing,
had not their thoughts been fully preoccupied with an op
posite persuasion.
That such is the weakness of the human mind, if it have,
either from the impressions of early infancy, or from what
ever cause, imbibed a strong prejudice, is well known.
Minds so preoccupied will sometimes rather disti'ust the
evidence of the senses than relinquish a long-formed and
dearly-cherished theory, even on the most indifferent matter.
It then becomes, as it were, part of their own nature,
and is made the standard by which other notions are mea
sured, instead of being subjected to trial and examination
itself. It may, however, serve stUl more to lessen our wonder at
the strange inattention of the disciples to those frequent
predictions our Lord had made of his suffering, and of his

THE FIRST DISCIPLES. 175
rising again on the third day, if we consider attentively the
last discourse He had with them after the celebration of the
Passover. St. John is the only evangehst who has recorded
this conversation at any length. It occupies three whole
chapters (xiv. xv. xvi.) of his Gospel, and seems to have
taken place after their departure from the supper to the
Mount of Olives. Everything that is told of what passed
on this memorable night is solemn, awful, affecting ; and to
the disciples it must have been, at that time, for the most
part unexpected and mysterious. A great change they knew
was preparing. Their Lord himself was disturbed in spirit,
and almost overcome by his mental agonies. As the hour
approached, his manner became more fervent, his exhorta
tions to union and love more earnest and reiterated, his pro
mise of future support and of another coming more distinct
and intelligible. As they pressed Him for explanation. He
answered in a way that satisfied them more fully than He
had ever done before : ' 1 came forth,' said He, ' from the
Father, and am come into the world : again, I leave the
world, and go to the Father. His disciples said unto him,
Lo, now speakest thou plainly, and speakest no proverb.'
(John xri. 28, 29.) Again, when He explains to them the
reasons of his going, and the benefits which they will them
selves derive from it. He repeatedly tells them that He will
send the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, unto them to supply
his place ; that it is necessary He himself should go, in order
that this Comforter might come. All these declarations are
intermised with the most affectionate and ardent prayers for
their welfare, and vrith strong injunctions to maintain peace,
concord, and union, among themselves. It cannot be won
dered at, therefore, if they had left upon their minds a
powerful impression that this was the last interriew they
should have vrith Him as their Master on earth. How this
departure to the Father was to be effected, or by what divine
influence the Holy Spirit was to be shed upon them, was

176 DISAPPOINTED EXPECTATIONS OF
alike beyond their knowledge; but as the words of our
Sariour, through the whole tenor of this discourse, do cer
tainly relate chiefly to his ascension, and not to his resurrec
tion or to any intermediate state, it was natural that this
view of the subject should get entire possession of their
minds, and not improbable that they might fancy that all the
former sayings concerning his death and rising again were to
be explained in this manner.
It seems further evident that such was their view of the
matter, by the perplexity they were in when He used a
phrase somewhat inconsistent with it. ' A little whUe and
ye shall not see me : and again, a little whUe, and ye shall
see me, because I go to the Father.' This, it may be
observed, is the only passage in the whole three chapters
which intimates that any interval will elapse between his
death and his ascension ; accordingly, his disciples, already
conrinced that He was taking his final leave of them, could
not reconcile this saying, ' A little while, and ye shall see
me,' with that notion. His answer to their inquiry as to his
meaning, though full of tenderness and consolation, is such
as to leave the point stUl obscure ; and He withdraws their
attention from it by reverting to the other topics of his
discourse, and by repeating his promise of future communi
cation and support after He shall have ascended to the
Father. That the disciples, then, were not prepared to expect this
issue of their Lord's ministry ; that they cherished the hope
to the last that He would triumph over his worldly enemies ;
and that, when this hope failed, they were confounded, dis
pirited, and dismayed, we may assume as facts incapable of
being denied.
At the eve of the crucifixion this change of mind became
first apparent. It was not till the Shepherd was actually
smitten that the sheep of the flock were scattered abroad.
Even then they were lost in wonder and expectation of the

THE FIRST DISCIPLES. 177
end; whilst many stood afar off gazing at the dreadful spec
tacle, and stUl perhaps waiting for some risible interposition
of divine power.
But when they saw Him die the common death of all men ;
when they beheld his mangled and lifeless body laid in the
tomb, his enemies triumphant, and themselves left destitute
of their Guide and Master, the scene seemed now finally
closed. He was now no longer, as they had thought, ' He
that should have redeemed Israel.'
Let us now turn to consider in what manner they acted
during the first moments of their disappointment. Did they
regard the sacrifice they had made, when they, left all and
followed Him, as entu-ely thrown away ? Did they accuse
themselves and one another of folly and infatuation ? Did
they pour out their vexation in fruitless reproaches of their
deceased Master ? Did they endeavour to return into favour
vrith the Jews by casting aU the blame upon Him, and
acknowledging that they had been misled, hke many before
them, by a mischievous impostor ?
If nothing of this, so natural and so common among the
partisans of an unsuccessful leader, was risible among the
disciples of Christ, we are not without means of accounting
for their different conduct. The remembrance of his mii-acles
was stUl fresh in their minds. His piety, his meekness, his
benevolence, his heavenly instruction, to which they had often
listened with fond admiration, were not yet forgotten.
This power and these virtues could not belong to any
ordinary man, much less were they compatible with the
character of an impostor. Although they found not in
Him, therefore, that Messiah whom they had been taught to
expect, yet He was, as they, in the honesty and simplicity of
their hearts, confessed, a prophet mighty in word and deed.
During that last affectionate interview they had had with
Him, He had treated them not as sei-vants, but as friends ;
He had satisfied their doubts more exphcitiy than ever, and
N

178 DISAPPOINTED EXPECTATIONS OF
had given them to understand that, though his earthly
ministry had ceased, the dispensation of which He was the
author was at some future time to begin. But what the
form and nature of his kingdom would be, when it was to
begin, and what duties would belong to them in it, they
were wholly ignorant. That it was not to be of this world
they well knew; and they might easily believe that the fashion
of this world would be changed, and a new heaven and a new
earth appear, before it was to be ushered in.
From the short account that is left us of the interval be
tween our Lord's crucifixion and his resurrection, we may
collect that during this awful pause there did not exist in
the minds of the disciples so much as any feeling of expec
tation or suspense. Those who had followed Him when
alive were desirous of paying the customary tribute of
respect and affection to Him when dead. They lamented
his loss as that of a friend and of a father. They would
soon, it is evident, have returned to their ordinary occupa
tions ; as we find, indeed, by the account given of our Lord's
appearance to the fishermen at the Lake of Gennesaret, ac
tually was the case : and we may be sure, from the long
prevalence of Jewish opinions in the minds of the chief
among them, that they would have remained steadfast in the
religion of their country. They were conscious that a strong
prejudice existed against them ; and that while this prejudice
lasted, it was not safe for them to meet, if these meetings
should be known. Even after the appearance of our Lord
to those who risited the sepulchre, the few who were con
rinced were as nothing compared with the many that
doubted ; and the meeting which was convened for the pur
pose, apparently, of examining and comparing the several
accounts, was held secretly, and, as it were, by stealth.
But what a different spectacle does the lapse of a few days
present to our contemplation ! Those very disciples who
thought their only stay and support was fallen from them.

THE FIRST DISCIPLES. 179
who had dispersed in various directions, and who feared to
assemble except in a secret chamber, and under cover of the
night, now boldly asserted their faith in the face of the
world, and called upon others to follow their example.
What, it may well be asked, upon any knowledge we have
of human nature, could effect so great a change in the
minds of those men ? What motive was sufficiently power
ful to inspire those with courage who but just before were
timid and dejected ; to unite in firm bonds of aUiance men
who, even under the eye of their common Master, were
often distracted with strifes and dirisions ? What could make
those venture to preach Christ crucified who were ashamed
and afraid to confess their faith in Him whUe yet ahve?
Let us be careful to bear in mind that such is the true
state of the question before us. The question is not, what
could have induced any set of men at that time to preach the
new religion ? but, what could have induced men situated as
the Apostles were, men whose previous conduct and prerious
opinions, up to the very moment of the crucifixion, had been
such as we have just described ? If there be any who can
satisfy their minds that this sudden change was the effect of
fraud, it may be well briefly to lay before them some of the
incredible consequences involved in that opinion. They
must beheve that a few simple and imleamed men, who had
followed an extraordinary- leader with the hopes of seeing
Him establish an earthly kingdom, but who could scarcely
be kept together by his authority when ahve, yet after his
death, when aU their hopes were baffled, when their opinion
of his character was changed, and their confidence had quite
forsaken them, did, nevertheless, vrithin a few days combine
to persuade the whole world of a new and unheard-of
miracle; that they propagated this falsehood without any
variation of circumstances; that after a foul instance of
treacherj' among their own body against their Lord and
Master, which they had all witnessed, no one betrayed this
X 2

180 DISAPPOINTED EXPECTATIONS OF
false plot, arid that no betrayal was apprehended by them.
They must beheve that the object of this deceit was to extir
pate all deceit and all sin from among men, to inculcate the
duties of piety, humility, and charity, with every other
quahty that deserves the name of virtue ; that the authors
of this deceit, thus invented and thus spread in direct oppo
sition to the acknowledged doctrine of Christ and to their
own, made a voluntary surrender of all their time, their
property, and their worldly riews, with the certain prospect
before them of reproach, toU, public scorn, imprisonment,
and death ; that they abandoned their friends, their home,
and their country, in order to teach it, knowing it to be
false, and laid down their Uves to attest its truth. But if
they believe all this, the expression can hardly be considered
as too bold, that they are become unbehevers in Christ
through credulity.
Let it be remembered, also (for the argument gathers
strength the more rigidly it is confined to its own peculiar
limits), that the ease of the early converts and martyrs of
the Church is essentially different from that of those who
were literally the first preachers of the Gospel. The con
verts placed entire confidence in what they heard and were
taught : their faith was the eridence of things not seen ; and
that faith they did indeed seal with their blood. They, how
ever, might possibly have been deceived, notwithstanding aU
their zeal ; as we know that many have been deceived, and
have endured every kind of torture, and even death itself, for
the sake of false religions.
But on the supposition of falsehood in the Apostles them
selves, they had not the aid of faith to support them. That
powerful spring, which has led men to hardier deeds than
any other human motive, in their minds could have no place.
The religion they preached was neither the effect of early
habit and prejudice (for that unquestionably lay all the other
way), nor was it received at the hand of any revered teacher.

THE FIRST DISCIPLES. 181
whose sincerity was an earnest of its truth (for they them
selves declare that they had it not from man). Upon the
supposition, therefore, of falsehood in them, they suffered for
what they did nx)t believe, and for what no man ever taught
them or encouraged them to beheve.
There is, then, we may fairly conclude, no other way,
without doing violence to every principle of human reason,
and contradicting all we learn from human experience, — ^there
is no other way of solving the question which has been pro
posed for our examination, except by the simple clue which
the Gospel itself affords us. That Jesus, whom they had
seen crucified and buried, was risen again. That ^Master,
who had first called them to be his disciples, had now ap
peared to them after his resurrection. Him thev had seen,
and handled, and conversed with. He had removed the veU
from before their eyes. He had instructed them in the true
nature of his kingdom, of which they were tUl then ignorant,
and had appointed them his ministers to preach the Gospel
to every creature.
To us it remains, for whose sakes as weU as for theirs this
mighty work was done, that we be careful not to neglect so
great salvation. Blessed, we know, wiU they be, who have
not seen, and yet have believed. But to be entitled to this
blessing, the behef of those who have not seen must resemble
the behef of those who saw. Let us imagine ourselves to
have been of the number of those chosen few to whom He
actually appeared. Could we in that case have hesitated to
abandon every worldly object which stood in the way of our
duty ? Could we have thought any suffering too hard, any
sacrifice too dear for his serrice ? Such, we know, was the
effect on the minds of those who really saw Him ; and such
must be its effect upon our minds, if we woidd hold ourselves
to be included in the number of those who, according to his
word, are called to inherit a blessing, because they have Tiot
seen and yet have beheved.

SERMON V.
No. I.— THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.

Acts xviii. 24.
' A certain Jew, named Apollos, born at Alexandria, an eloquent
man, and mighty in the scriptures, came to Ephesus.'

TN the history of the Acts of the Apostles we are presented
with a variety of modes in which the great truths of
the Gospel were communicated, according to the condition,
the previous opinions, the capacity, or the proficiency of the
persons instructed. The earliest is that discourse of St.
Peter on the day of Pentecost, addressed to the mixed mul
titude of Jews who came together to witness the miraculous
effusion of the Holy Ghost upon the assembled disciples.
In this first address to the Jewish people, he tells them that
God 'had made that Jesus whom they had crucified, both
Lord and Christ;' that he and his company were witnesses
of his resurrection, and that this Jesus being by the right
hand of God exalted, and ' having received of the Father the
promise of the Holy Ghost, had shed forth that which they
then saw and heard.' (Acts ii. 33.)
The substance of this declaration that ' God had raised
Jesus from the dead to be the Judge of all men, and the
Sariour of those who were baptized in his name,' is repeated
on every occasion when the public addresses of St. Peter and
the other Apostles are recorded — and this fundamental
point being once distinctly established, the fuller instruction

THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS. 183
of the Chm-ch was to proceed gradually and slowly, as they
were able to bear it ; a gracious indulgence being shown to
the infirmities of human nature, and to the inveterate preju
dice, and mistaken opinions, which the most learned and
devout of the Jewish nation had conceived.
Even the Apostles themselves, although the spirit of truth
was first imparted to them, and through them diffused
through the Body of the disciples ; even they had still, for
many years after the ascension of our Lord, much to learn.
The temporary and preparatory character of the Mosaic
Law; the true import of all its rites and ordinances, the
spiritual nature of the Messiah's Kingdom, and the right
interpretation of the prophetic writings, — all this, we may
safely conclude from the general tenor of the Acts of the
Apostles, was not suddenly, but gradually and progressively
revealed to their minds; and as we know from the same
history, many years elapsed before that great and final reve
lation, the admission of the Gentiles into the Covenant of
Grace, without passing through the medium of Judaism,
was imparted to them.
The conversion and baptism of Cornelius by Peter is
generaUy supposed to have taken place eight years after om*
Lord's ascension ; that supernatural agency was employed to
effect this we know, and with what severity St. Peter's con
duct was called in question on his return to Jerusalem. It
was not until after he had related not only his own vision,
and that of Cornelius, but the manifest effusion of the Holy
Ghost upon the Gentiles whom he had baptized, that his
vindication of himseK was accepted. Their minds were then,
indeed, convinced, and they 'glorified God;' but the strange
ness of the information, and the strength of theii* former
^persuasion, ai-e strikingly expressed in their reflection, ' Then
hath God also to the Gentiles granted repentance unto life.'
(Acts xi. 18.)

184 THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS,
It was full four years after this event * that St. Paul re
ceived his commission to preach the Gospel as an Apostle; -f
and although he was sent far from Jerusalem unto the Gen-
tiles,J yet his preaching was confined to the Synagogues,
until Sergius Paulus sent for him and became the first-fruits
of conversion from among the idolatrous GentUes.
To him also it must be observed that Paul did not preach
until he was sent for ; nor does it appear that any appeal was
made to the idolatrous heathen directly and independently of
the Jewish Synagogue, till the preaching of Paul and
Barnabas, at Antioeh, in Pisidia, when, upon meeting with
the hardened opposition of the Jews, they waxed bold and
said, ' It was necessary that the word of God should first
have been spoken to you : but seeing ye put it from you, and
judge yourselves unworthy of everlasting life, lo, we turn to
the GentUes.' §
This happened in the first year of Paul's apostolic mis
sion, and although from this time it is erident that the
GentUes were inrited, vrithout requiring from them, as a
qualification, any previous connection with the Jews, yet
the practice still continued, wherever they went, of preaching
Christ first in the Synagogues, and thus transfonning that
assembly, wherever they could, into a christian Church, in
pursuance of the great design opened by our Lord himself,
of bringing on the law of Moses into the perfection of the
Gospel. Now the case of Apollos, to which my text relates, did not
occur till the close of St. Paul's second apostolic journey,
during which he had founded churches in many of the cities
of Greece as well as of Asia ; and it may be referred to the
* See Babrinqton's MisceU. Sac. Essay 3. Abstr. p. 19.
t Before this Paul preached Christ in the synagogues at Damascus,
not, however, as an Apostle, but just as Apollos.
X Acts xxii. 21. § Acts xiii. 46.

THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS. 185
twenty-first year after our Lord's ascension. So late as this we
find a learned Jew, and one who had been a disciple of John
the Baptist, though instructed in many points of the christian
rehgion, and preaching his doctrine in the Synagogues, yet un-
baptized in the name of Christ, and receiving from the mouth
of Paul's companions that information which was necessary
to fit him for a preacher of the Gospel.
Before I enter into a consideration of that knowledge
which was probably conveyed to him on this occasion, it may
be weU to offer to your attention some remarks upon this
apparently slow development of the christian dispensation,
notwithstanding the mighty agency employed in the
miraculous gifts of the Spirit, and the zealous devotion of
the ficrst disciples to the cause.
Now the first observation I would make upon this fact is;
that it accords perfectly with the whole tenor of God's deal
ings towards his rational creatures, however bafffing it may
be to human reason, and however repulsive to that impatience
isith which we are wont to prosecute any favourite scheme of
improvement. Thus, after the slow revolution of the patriarchal ages, in
which the worship of the true God was as a hght shining
in a dark place, what a long training did the people of
Israel undergo under that schoolmaster which was to bring
them unto Christ.
And when this promised seed came, and after a period of
thirty years^ entered on his ministry, doing such ' works as
none other man did,' and speaking as 'never man spake,'
yet three years of continued personal intercourse were not
sufficient to instruct his followers thoroughly in the true
nature of his kingdom.^ After the communication, then, of
that spiritual influence which was to guide them into aU
[the] truth,'l= it is but consonant with the general

* Gr. TTCLirav t^v oKiideuiv.

186 THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.
economy of Dirine grace, that the progress should still be
gradual and interrupted, submitting the heart and affections
of man to their due discipline, and enlightening the under
standing in proportion to its improvement in righteousness.
In the next place, it is well worthy of remark, that by
the long continuance of the infant Church in Jerusalem,
maintaining as it did a close connection with the whole
system of the Jewish religion, we, as well as they, have had
deeply impressed upon our minds the true character of the
christian Revelation ; that it is ihe. fulfilment, rather than the
abrogation, of the Law; that the ' law is good, and just, and
holy;' that the service of the temple was not like one of the
heathen vanities to be renounced as a corruption ; but to be
gradually explained, and understood as swallowed up in the
more complete dispensation of the Gospel.
The intimate connection thus preserved for many years,
and the sacred reverence which the disciples continued to
manifest for the law of Moses, must have tended powerfully
to assist the propagation of the Gospel; perhaps it was
(humanly speaking) even necessary to its propagation, ac
cording to that method which we have already seen was
observed, and which it was doubtless the wUl of God should
be observed, in its promulgation, by means, that is, of the
Jewish synagogues established everywhere throughout the
civilised world. It was to these congregations that the word
was always first preached ; and it was essential to its favour
able reception among them, that the preachers should appear
to be not apostates and renegades from their faith, but men
maintaining a strict intercourse vrith the established seat of
their religion, and ' walking in all its ordinances blameless.'
A very slight reflection upon the fmy which was excited
by any suspicion of treason in this respect — what a flame it
kindled against St. Paul in Jerusalem — is sufficient to con
vince us how utterly hopeless all preaching must have been
to a synagogue in a foreign land, from a man who had either

THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS. 187
renounced Judaism, or was supposed to be hostile to the
temple-worship at Jerusalem. But while the Church of
Christ remained resident in that city, and taught none other
things but what Moses and the prophets foretold, even the
most zealous adherent of the Law would lend a vrilling ear
to the doctrine.
That the Apostles themselves should be strict observers of
the ritual law, during this whole interval, and attach a great
importance to the observance, although now instructed in the
spiritual nature of their Lord's kingdom, ought not to create
any difficulty. Their information in Divine things, although
derived immediately from the Spirit, was not complete and
simultaneous, but gradual, and adapted to the exigency of
the case, and to the advancing state of their ovm minds.
And if this continuance of ritual observances were an
expedient (as it seems clearly to be) highly instrumental
to the success of the Gospel, it was surely better that the
part which they were to act in it should be natural and not as
sumed ; that they should be sincere, and not dissembling
communicants with their national form of religion ; and that
when the fulness of the time was come, they should then
perceive that the true Israelites no longer needed this out
ward sign of adoption, or this risible serrice of the temple,
which was, in fact, soon to be swept away from the face of
the earth.
It was, however, not merely a wise expedient for the fur
therance of Christianity, or gracious accommodation to the
infirmities of our nature, that this connection of the Christian
with the Jevrish Church was so long permitted ; it served to
explain both the course of God's providence in his former
dealings with mankind, and the true nature of that revelation
which was completed in Jesus Christ.
This revelation, if we would receive it rightly, we must re
ceive as the consummation of the Law ; as the Law was an
advanced stage of the Patriarchal dispensation, so the Gos
pel is its completion and its close.

188 THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.
Many a GentUe probably would have been willing to ac
cept li, as an independent revelation, that God had sent his
own Son into the world to assure them of a future state,
and of the means by which they might attain immortal
happiness. He would have listened to and approved the
pure moral instruction it contained, and have admired its
benevolent spirit as altogether worthy of God, and most
conducive to the welfare of his creatures. And this, in
fact, is the view which many professed Christians, in all
ages, especially in enlightened ages, have taken of it.
But this the Gentile must submit to be told is not the
Gospel of Christ. He must be content to receive it as an
offspring from Judaism if he receive it at all ; and he must
wait patiently for that instruction in the way of the Lord,
which marks out its inseparable conjunction with the earlier
dispensations of Divine grace.
In the work of perfecting the Gospel, it should be remem
bered that two distinct portions of mankind were to be
addressed, each with their peculiar prejudices opposed to it.
The exclusive privileges of the Jew, fostered as they had been
for so many ages by the especial protection of the Almighty,
it vvas hard for him at once to surrender ; and the Gentile
reasoner disdained to accept the offer of Divine mercy,
through the medium of a despised and insulated people.
The one had to unlearn much of his national religion, the
other had, if not to profess that religion, yet to become ac
quainted with it — to recognise the hand of the Almighty in ^
it — and to seek for admission into that Covenant, now ma
tured, of which, in its preparatory form, the Jews had been
the appointed witnesses and keepers.
And so intimate, in fact, was this connection, that in the
writings of the best-informed Romans of that and the suc
ceeding age, Christianity is always identified with Judaism,
and treated as a recent modification only of that hated
religion. To prevail, then, over these conflicting obstacles was surely

THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS. 189
no easy task; and we cannot but admire the patience, the
perseverance, and address that were ^displayed by the chief
agents in its accomplishment. In the commencement and
in the earliest stages of the Jewish dispensation, when the
main object of the lawgiver was to separate this people and
keep them for a course of ages distinct from the nations of
the earth, not only was the risible hand of the Almighty
repeatedly put forth, and the power of his Spirit manifested
among them, but the most effectual human means were also
employed, by establishing a peculiar religious system, inter
woven with all the customs and practices of daily life.
But now that this temporary dispensation had fulfilled its
purpose, and the plan of the Almighty was, on the contrary,
to reunite the portions of mankind that had been long kept
asunder (although the agency of the Holy Spirit was again
displayed in the most striking manner, yet), here also as be
fore a gracious accommodation is vouchsafed to the feelings
and constitution of human nature. The habits and opinions
long formed and deeply cherished are not violently rooted up
— ^the fond partialities of place, of kindred, of national pride
and glory, are not rudely condemned or required to be
abruptly sacrificed ; but the veil is gradually vrithdrawn from
the eyes, and the true Israelite is conducted by a gentle
and indulgent hand to the possession of that better inherit
ance of which the earthly land of Canaan was an imperfect
emblem. Nay, more than this, if it be allowable in the descendants
of Abraham after the flesh, to cherish the feeling of national
dignity and pre-eminence, it is in this view of the case that
their honour is most consulted. For although their rulers
rejected the Messiah — although they were in consequence soon
trodden down and destroyed, and theit ' house made desolate,'
yet in reahty ' God did not cast off his people.' A remnant
of the chosen seed was still preserved — a branch of that
stock was risibly strengthened by the hand of God him-

190 THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.
self, and into that branch every scion of the wild-olive tree
must first be engrafted, before it can beai- fruit unto ever
lasting life.
It was a homage, then, done to this despised race, and so it
was felt by the proud GentUe, to receive the promise of hfe
through their ministry, to recognise them as the first-bom of
God — as the appointed instruments for conveying salvation
to all the ends of the earth ; and this high distinction was
surely made more unequivocal and apparent by the proti'acted
continuance of that form of religious worship, and of national
peculiarity, which was for several years united with the esta
blishment of the Gospel.
It was under the impulse of this feeling, strong upon his
mind, that St. Paul, in his epistle to the Romans, pom-ed
forth that animated and eloquent appeal to his own kinsmen
according to the flesh: 'Who are Israelites' (he says); 'to
whom pertaineth the adoption, and the glory, and the cove
nants, and the giving of the law, and the serrice of God, and
the promises; whose are the fathers, and of whom, as concern
ing the flesh, Christ came, who is over aU, God blessed for
ever.' (Rom. ix. 4, 5.)
^^Tiat is there, we may ask, in all the archives of the
nations of the earth, that can furnish a record of glory to be
compared with this ? Yet even this precious inheritance he
tells them they were hable to forfeit, if they trusted to their
carnal title alone ; for God, ' who is able of the very stones to
raise up children unto Abraham,' was even then calling in
other heirs of the promise, to supply the place of those who
feU away ' because of unbelief.'
And here, again, we may remark another example of the
mercy and long-suffering of God towards his chosen people,
another reason why the dispensation we have been consider
ing appears to have been adopted, and why, even after the pro
mise had been fulfilled, then national distinction was so long
recognised and respected by the Apostles. For St. Paul avails

THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS. 191
himself of this motive, among many others, as an effectual
means of their conversion. ' Salvation,' he observes, ' is come
unto the Gentiles, for to provoke them' (i. e. the Jews) ' to
jealousy;' and again, 'I speak to you GentUes, inasmuch as I
am the apostle of the Gentiles, if by any means I may pro
voke to emulation them which are my flesh, and might save
some of them.' (Rom. xi. 13, 14.) He urges this topic as an
incentive to their minds, applying most appropriately both the
prophecy of Moses, ' I will provoke you to jealousy by them
that are no people, and by a foolish nation I wUl anger you '
(Rom. X. 19) ; as well as that similar passage of Isaiah, ' I
was found of them that sought me not; I was made manifest
unto them that asked not after me.' (Rom. x. 20.)
In the latter of these prophecies we see exactly portrayed
the manner in which the Gospel was first spread among the
heathen — ' I was found of them that sought me not ;' but it
is the former passage by which the feeling of national
jealousy was likely to be kindled, and which was likely
to strike them forcibly as being in the act of receiving its
accomplishment at the very time. For in the conversion of
Gentiles to the faith then rapidly going on, there was mani
festly no account taken of their respective national cha
racters ; no distinction allowed of Greek, Roman, or Barba
rian ; no appeal to them, in their collective capacity ; but
each indiridual as he came in was incorporated singly, and
engrafted as it were upon the stock of Israel, without any
regard to the particular family of mankind to which he be
longed. Dexterously, therefore, and affectionately does the
Apostle touch this chord — this fond exultation in their
national prerogative, and urge them by the most endearing
recollections to seize the opportunity of entering in before
it be too late, seeing that their claim is even better than that
of others who are fast enrolling themselves in the number of
the true Israelites. (See Rom. xi. 23, 24.)
There is yet one reason more which may be assigned for

192 THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.
this partial blindness which was permitted so long to mix
itself with the christian Revelation ; I mean that the con
sciousness of it in their own case must have inclined the first
preachers of the Gospel, after they became more fuUy
enlightened, to make large allowances for the obstinacy and
prejudices of those whose conversion they attempted.
Much, we know, there must have been to overcome in the
minds both of Jew and Gentile, before the truth of the
Gospel could be thoroughly established in them : ' And the
servant of the Lord must not strive; but be gentle unto all
men, apt to teach, patient, in meekness instructing those
that oppose themselves ; if God peradventure wUl give them
repentance to the acknowledging of the truth.' (2 Tim. ii.
24, 25.) Now what better discipline can the heart undergo in
order to prepare it for such a work, than to have felt vrithin
itself the strong ascendancy of prejudice and error, and to
remember the difficulty and delay which attended its own
improvement ? What more instructive lesson of charity and
candour can there be than to reflect upon some remarkable
instance of our own obstinacy in opinions now abandoned
by us, and the aversion, the vehemence or even the passion
with which we once resisted the admission of the truth ?
It must surely, then, have contributed mainly to the for
mation of this christian character in the first preachers, to
have experienced in their own persons the gradual dawning
of that heavenly light which they were commissioned to
diffuse, to have felt how hard it is to surrender opinions
and modes of thinking, which are among the earliest of
our thoughts, and which were once esteemed the most
sacred. And as this preparation seems to have been peculiarly
adapted to the sendee upon which they were all entering,
so we know assuredly that the individual among them
upon whom the greatest demand was made for patience,
for courage, and perseverance in this great work — he who

THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS. 193
was most exposed to the storm of Jevrish persecution, as
well as to that of Heathen pride — was himself in an especial
degree to undergo the bitter experience of obstinacy and
intolerance, (bitter, I call it, because of the repentance and
self-reproach which followed it,) that he was trained in that
rough school for his arduous office, and thus fitted to dis
play the signal example he has left us of charitable in
dulgence and patience towards all those who differed from
him. In conclusion of the present discourse I would observe,
that according to the view here taken of God's dispensation
vrith the Jewish people, it is a mistake to suppose that they
are to be one day restored to their ancient patrimony, or
that they are destined as a nation to act any further part
upon the earth. Such, I know, is the interpretation put
by some divines upon a few passages in holy writ, and such
is the fond expectation not only of this deluded race, but
of many pious and zealous Christians who are anxious to
bring them into the fold of the true Shepherd. Of those
texts of Scripture, however, although it is impossible now
to enter into a critical investigation of their meaning and
a particular refutation of that sense which has been hastily
fastened upon them, yet thus much I would not hesitate
to affirm — that there are passages an hundred-fold more
numerous which foretell in clear and positive terms the
earthly splendour of the Messiah's kingdom, and the per
petual obligation of the Mosaic ordinances ; but which are
necessarUy explained in a less obrious, and in a spiritual
manner, conformably to that plan of merciful redemption
revealed in the New Testament. And why the one set of
texts, few and questionable as they are, which speak of the
national restoration, should retain their literal meaning
against the whole tenor of interpretation adopted in regard
to the other, is nowhere accounted for in any argument
that I have seen advanced upon the subject.

194 THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.
On the contrary, the prospect of a national restitution to
the land of Canaan appears to be at variance with the first
principles of that scheme of Christianity^ which the Church
has handed down from the apostohc times. It is a retro
grade motion from heavenly and spiritual to earthly and
carnal things, a return to those 'beggarly elements,' and
to that contracted economy of things, from which Christ,
by the teaching of his Holy Spirit, has long ago set us
free.* There is, it is true, something fascinating to the imagi
nation in this ideal reunion of a scattered people, and a
restoration of them to the land of their forefathers, a land
which has been the scene of such glorious deeds, and
marked by so many manifestations of dirine power. Nor
wUl there ever be wanting pious and benevolent men who
will lend a wUling ear to such anticipations. But the more
natural is the charm of these local associations, the more
prone we are by nature to indulge in the luxury of high
feeling, and to give to our risionary hopes the sanction of
religion, the more necessary it is to guard the sober sim
plicity of gospel truth from this contagion. There is
always a leaning in mankind tovrards what is mystical and
marveUous ; and upon this infirmity of our nature almost
all the corruptions of religion, and all the arts of priest
craft have been engrafted. We read it in the melancholy
tale of our crusades; we trace it in the pUgrimages and
adorations, in the reverence for holy places and holy rehcs
which the Chui-ch of Rome inculcates on her deluded votaries;
and we have often seen it exemplified in that eager cu
riosity which has from time to time been excited about the
destiny of the unbeliering Jews.
Doubtless it is our duty to communicate to them freely
the precious gift we have ourselves received, to inrite them
* See Scripture Revelation of a Fuiure State, Lect. vii.

THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS. 195
to a participation of the same blessing, to seek by gentle
persuasion, and by kind and respectful usage to overcome
their prejudices, to win them over to the truth, and to
guide their feet into the way of salvation. But in the
performance of this task, we must treat with them as
indiriduals, and no longer as a nation. Their national
character has long ago ceased, or, rather, it is exalted into
that mystical body of which Christ is the head, and all
the faithful of the earth, of vrhatever nation, or kindred,
or tongue, they may be, are the indiridual members. Into
this famUy they also may yet be incorporated. They are,
to use the expressive imagery of St. Paul, as natural
branches broken off, but they may be inserted anew into
the parent stock vrith even more certainty of growth and
nourishment than the shoots which have been gathered from
the olive tree that is wild by nature. (Rom, xi. 23, 24.)
But as long as an idea is cherished in their mind that they
stUl enjoy the rank and privilege of a nation, that some
future destiny awaits them under that coUective character,
a powerful obstacle surely is presented to the work of con
version ; the wall of partition is again set up between them
and the gentUe world ; their strongest prejudices are flattered
and encouraged, those very prejudices which have at all
times proved the main hindrance to their perception of the
Gospel. Rather let us remind them of our Lord's caution
to his own disciples, not to regard the rumours they may
hear of the outward tokens of his coming, when men shall
say ' Lo ! he is here, or lo ! he is there,' for that the king
dom of heaven is within us. ' With the heart' man be-
lieveth unto righteousness ' (Rom. x. 10) ; and ' Christ is
the end of the law for righteousness to every one that
believeth.' (Rom. x. 4.) 'There is no difference between
the Jew and the Greek, for the same Lord over all is rich unto
all that call upon him ' (Rom. x. 12) ; and when at length
the blindness shall be removed from the Jew, and the
o 2

196 THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.
fulness of the GentUe shall come in, then truly shall all
Israel be saved, not by a return into Jerusalem, but by
that which came out from it ; for then shall be fulfilled the
prophecy which ever since the Advent of our Lord has
been going on, and is still in the train of its accomplish
ment, ' There shall come out of Sion the Deliverer,* and
shall turn away ungodliness from Jacob.' (Rom. xi. 26.)
And this very Deliverer is now by the hands of his faithful
servants gathering his sheep into that fold over which He
has promised to preside Himself, even unto the end of the
world. To Him the only true God, vrith the Father and the Holy
Spirit, be glory and praise, in all churches of the saints, now
and ever. Amen.

* 'O pv6iievos, answering to the Hebrew Sw, i. e. Jure propinqui-
tatis rem aut personam vindicare — ut suam asserere — pretio date re-
dimere et jus ejus persequi. — J. BLOMriEiB's Traditions of a Redeemer,
p. 43, et not.

SERMON VI.
No II.— THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.

Acts xriii. 26.
' Whom when AquUa and Priscilla had heard, they took him unto
them, and expounded unto him the way of God more perfectly.'

"JN a former discourse I dwelt upon the lateness of the
Revelation made even to the Apostles themselves, of that
full and final purpose of the .Almighty, the gathering of the
faithful of aU the nations of the earth into the fold of
Christ, without requiring from them a prerious admission
into the Mosaic covenant; and, at the same time, I endea
voured to point out the great advantages that were derived
from this gradual disclosure of the truth, and the strong
eridence it afforded, in accordance with the whole tenor of
our Lord's ministry, that the Christian Church is, in fact, the
continuation and the perfection of the Jewish Church. The
long interval allowed to the operation of this mysterious
change, is perfectly analogous to the whole tenor of God's
deahngs with man in aU the earlier revelations of his vriU;
and whUe it illustrates the sincerity and simplicity of those
who report their own slovmess of apprehension, it furnishes
also an edifying lesson of patience and forbearance to all
whose office it was to be in future ages to disseminate among
mankind the same dirine knowledge.
Let us not wonder, then, that a Jew, hke ApoUos, who
had never it seems conversed immediately vrith the Apostles,

198 THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.
although taught by the preaching of John the Baptist, more
than twenty years before, that Jesus (who afterwards suffered
death at Jerusalem) was that Messiah whom the prophets
had foretold ; although convinced of the spiritual import of
the Law, and of the purity of heart and strict morality
which God requires of all who seek for admission into his
kingdom — let us not wonder, that although thus far in
structed in the way of the Lord, he had still much to leam
before he could be thoroughly qualified to preach the Gospel.
The first and most obrious deficiency was probably the same
which pervaded the whole infant Church at Jerusalem for
many years — the ignorance that the Gentiles were freely
called to this inheritance as well as the descendants of Abra
ham. This is that ' mystery' so often spoken of by Paul,
as hidden until that age, even from the foundation of the
world ; and, surely, compared vrith the hmited riews before
entertained, it was an expansion of thought naturally leading
to those feehngs of rapture and exultation which are so
frequently expressed by him whenever he adverts to this
subject. The first intimation of divine mercy was hke the
introduction of a ray of light into a region through which
we had long wandered in doubt and terror ; the second was
hke the universal clearing up of the sky, and the difiusion
of that element as far as the eye can reach, and leading on
the mind to the conception of more distant scenes beyond the
compass of human vision.
It would require, also, some time, even vrith a man of
teachable and humble mind, well-read as Apollos was in the
Hebrew Scriptures, accustomed to a different interpretation
of them, before he could reconcUe this new and enlarged
sense with the repeated promises held out in Scripture, of
national deliverance; but stUl more, it may be presumed,
was he ignorant of the full efficacy of that atonement which
the sacrifice of Christ had effected — ignorant that salvation
was to be obtained only through faith in this sacrifice, and

THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS. 199
not by the works of the law. Justification through faith,
and not by works, is the great point of doctrine which
St. Paul labours to estabhsh in aU his reasonings with the
Jewish converts ; and we may add, that this is the stumbling-
block which has most offended the pride of human reason
in aU ages of the Church. A devout, a penitent, and a
thankful reception of the gift of eternal hfe, purchased by a
crucified Sariour, who came to reconcUe the world to God,
and to bring back sinners self-condemned to God, is some
thing so opposed to aU the high thoughts and imagina
tions of man, so baffling to all his natural reasonings and
speculations, that it might well require dihgent and earnest
teaching before it could get due possession of the heart, and
dislodge those vain conceits which had hitherto been striving
for ascendancy there.
But, on the other hand, it accords so perfectly not only
with the wants and aspirations of a truly penitent and pious
heart, but with that spiritual interpretation of the Mosaic
Law, which was opening more and more upon the candid
mind of this disciple, that we can easUy imagine this doc
trine, like seed sown in good ground, soon receiving its
kindly nourishment, and advancing to a mature and abund
ant harvest.
If, however, we compare the passage of which my text
is a part with what immediately foUows in the opening of
the next chapter, it seems highly probable that the new
information afforded to this distinguished convert was not
confined to the two heads of doctrine already mentioned.
It is said of ApoUos that he had been ' instructed in the
way of the Lord, knowing only the baptism of John.' From
which we may infer that an ignorance of the true nature of
christian baptism, and, consequently, of that essential doc
trine, the sanctifying influence of the Holy Spirit upon the
heart of every member of Christ's Church, is what was here
intended. John, we know, baptized only unto repentance, as

200 THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.
preparatory to the admission into Christ's kingdom. And
although he openly declared that Christ would ' baptize with
the Holy Ghost,' yet the expression as coming from him
might well be understood figuratively — the word 'baptize'
being as yet by no means appropriated to a sacred use, but
being often employed in common life for purification, and
often also by way of analogy for initiation into a new state.
Certain also it is that some of the most faithful disciples of
our Lord, long after his public ministry had begim, were
ignorant of that doctrine which He revealed with so much
earnestness and solemnity to Nicodemus, ' Except a man be
born of water, and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the
kingdom of God.' This appeared even to a willing dis
ciple to be a hard saying. Nicodemus had been already
instructed in the way of the Lord, and we know that he
continued to be after this conference one of his attached
followers. Well, therefore, may it be presumed that the
same doctrine was still unknown to a Jew liring at Alexan
dria, and who had never joined himself to the assembly of
brethren at Jerusalem.
It is not indeed said that to Apollos was administered the
rite of christian baptism, although there can be httle doubt
of the fact, because such was the constant practice of the
first preachers of the Gospel. But from this very omission
also it seems probable, that the knowledge of the doctrine,
and not the performance of the rite, was what was chiefly
specified as wanting in this case ; for had the latter been the
meaning of the word translated 'knowing' [k'pna-Td/iBvog'],
the history would naturaUy have gone on to say, not that
the way of God was expounded to him more perfectly, but
that he duly received the ordinance prescribed by our Saviour.
There is a transaction, moreover, which is recorded in imme
diate connection with this, and which points eridently to the
same conclusion ; for we read in the next chapter that whUe
Apollos was at Corinth preaching the doctrine he had learnt,

THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS. 201
Paul came to Ephesus (which ApoUos had lately left), ' and
finding certain disciples,* he said unto them. Have ye re
ceived the Holy Ghost since ye beheved ? And they said.
We have not so much as heard whether there be any Holy
Ghost. And he said. Unto what then were ye baptized?
And they said. Unto John's baptism.' f Of the Holy Ghost
every Jew had heard a thousand times. Their scriptures are
fuU of the doctrine. The Book of Psalms abounds with it
in almost every page. But it was a common, and indeed
a true tradition among them, that after the death of Ezra,
Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi, the Holy Ghost departed
from Israel, and they had not heard of his baring been re
stored. They had not even heard that the Holy Ghost had
been given, is the proper translation of the original. And
this receives decisive confiirmation from a passage in St.
John's Gospel, vu. 39, in which it is said, ' This spake he of
the Spirit, which they that beheve on him should receive : for
the Holy Ghost was not yet given.' The words in the original,
which are tianslated, was not yet given, are precisely the same
as those which, in the other passage, are rendered, whether
there be any Holy Ghost. And one cannot but wonder as
weU as regret, that this great inconsistency should have been
admitted into our authorised version.
The communication, then, of the Spirit, by which the heart
of every true behever is purified, and rendered fit for the
kingdom of heaven, was a principal part of that instruction
which was freely given on these occasions.
And the case of Apollos may serve as a useful warning to
all those who are inclined to resolve vital rehgion into mere
moral obedience, or, what is an equaUy dangerous snare to
the christian student's way, into a correct understanding
merely of the several parts of Scripture. These Scriptures,
* In all probability these twelve disciples had been pupUs of
Apollos. t Acts xix. 1-4.

202 THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.
so far as they related to the person of Christ as being the
expected Messiah, the great Deliverer promised to their fore
fathers, Apollos fully understood; a doctrine which it re
quires much learning and industry to support against all the
cavUs, objections, and prejudices, which even in this age are
occasionally raised against it. Nor is such an exercise of
our faculties to be regarded as a trifling contribution to the
great cause of religious truth. In the instance of ApoUos
we see that the success of his ministry was greatly promoted
by that species of learning. ' For he mightily convinced the
Jews, and that publicly, shovring by the scriptures that Jesus
was Christ.'*
In this age, it is true, our argument hes chiefly with an
other class of adversaries ; a class, however, who, like the
Jews of old, maintain many of the preparatory and funda
mental doctrines of true religion — such as the facts and
doctrines of natural theology, a just analysis of human pas
sions, affections, and virtues ; correct riews of social interests
and of relative duties; but who stop short of that vital
truth which gives vigour and animation to them aU, and
which alone invests them with the genuine christian cha
racter of christian graces. It is undoubtedly one symptom
of a fanatical disposition to undervalue these studies, and
resolring the whole of religion into a spiritual abstraction
of the soul from all human objects of pursuit. There is,
however, an error equally prevalent, of an opposite kind, that
of failing to receive into the heart the whole Gospel of Christ,
of resting satisfied with merely learning the moral and his
torical truths connected with it. So difficult is it to acquire
that just moderation, that evenness and sobriety of thinking,
which is the surest guide to truth in all our inquiries, and
which best serves to distinguish the genuine love of trath
from that alloy of passion, romance, and prejudice so often
* Acts xviii. 28.

THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS. 203
combined vrith it. From this unholy mixture it was that
most of the early heresies sprung. Thus, for example, in
proportion as the Jewish dispensation was discovered to be of
a temporary nature only; and superseded by the Christian,
Marcion and his followers, professing an entire devotion to
Christ, proceeded to represent the former as the work of a
Being different from the true God ; a work permitted for a
time to prevail, but at length overpowered by a superior and
more perfect Deity, the friend and redeemer of the whole
human race. And not altogether unlike to this extravagance
is the feeling of those enthusiasts who reject with scorn or
vrith suspicion all the auxiliaries of human reason and human
learning, as something hostUe and incongruous with true
religion, instead of enlisting them under the same banner,
and studying to collect the scattered elements of truth in
whatever quarter they lie, and to trace the harmony which
pervades the whole of God's gracious works, whether in the
intellectual or material world.
Of the many advantages, then, which flow from the mode
of apostolic teaching as collected from the books of the New
Testament, this surely is one, that by its elementary and
gradual (and what we now call its catechetical) method of
instruction, it discountenanced all claims to sudden and com
plete illuminations, claims frequently advanced in every age,
but which derive no sanction whatever from the history of
the primitive Church. The extraordinary gifts imparted to
many individuals by the laying on of the hands of the
Apostles, were miraculous testimonials only to the truth of
their commission. They were indeed often assumed, and
often, as we learn from the epistle to the Corinthians, impro
perly employed, insomuch as to call for the control and
reproof of the Apostle, who evidently undervalues them in
comparison with that truly christian wisdom which is the
fruit of a right understanding of the Gospel. To us, there
fore, they furnish no precedent and no particular lesson.

204 THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.
except as a strong admonition to charity, moderation, and
humility. But in aU ordinary cases the Apostles proceeded
with religious teaching as every judicious teacher does with
human instruction. They require from their disciples at
first an implicit confidence in their own superior information ;
without which, slow indeed is the progress in any branch of
learning. They carefidly impart the rudiments of knowledge
before they advance to deeper and more difficult matters,
anxiously watching the improvement of their hearers, and
furnishing more complete instruction in proportion to the
just conception that appears to be entertained of what has
been already taught : ' And I, brethren ' (says the Apostle
Paul, in 1 Cor. iii. 1, 2), ' could not speak unto you as unto
spiritual, but as unto carnal, even as unto babes in Christ.
I have fed you with milk, and not vrith meat : for hitherto ye
were not able to bear it, neither yet now are ye able.'
It was not a single declaration, however earnest or authori
tative, that could be expected to procure the assent of his
hearers to any truth ; it was not a single explanation of doc
trines which appeared to them strange and perplexing, that
could, even if candidly received, at once obliterate former
opinions, or prevent their revival and admixture with the
purer faith now proposed for their acceptance.
We cannot but suppose that what we see daily around us,
even under the advantages of universal profession of the
Gospel, took place also in that earlier age ; that besides the
general impediment of Jewish or Gentile prejudices, among
the wUling hearers of the word, some would embrace one
doctrine with eagerness and zeal to the neglect of others;
some would start difficulties and refuse to listen to what is
not free from difficulty, till their doubts were fully satisfied ;
fond of disputation — fond of display — vain of their ingenuity
— partial and indulgent to their own* infirmities — pleased
with what coincides with some favourite hypothesis, pursuing
the subject to curious or extraordinary lengths, and inclined

THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS. 205
to regard some points, however subordinate, as of primary or
even sole importance. We cannot be too often reminded
that the truth which now lies interwoven vrithout system in
so many apostolic writings, and which is ascertained in a
thousand instances by careful study and comparison of sepa
rate passages of Holy Scripture, was then imparted by oral
teaching only, and that whatever advantage may appear to
belong to those who could thus refer to a living infallible
guide for explanation of what they imperfectly understood,
may be compensated to us by permanent written evidence in
place of floating and occasional instruction. Much, it is
true, which we gather out of various parts, and elicit by a
collation of texts,* was to them taught absolutely and directly,
but being so taught it was liable to be misapprehended or
forgotten, or after a short interval to be confused and inter
mingled with other matter; while, in case of doubt or dispute,
no standard as yet existed of canonical writings, by which the
question could be determined and set at rest as often as it
furnished matter of debate in their assemblies. Accordingly
we find great part of the Epistles occupied in correcting
erroneous opinions concerning what had been orally delivered
long before, in cautioning believers against heretical teachers
— against the specious admixture of tenets borrowed from
heathen philosophy, and against the perverse reasonings
which conceited men among themselves would sometimes
maintain; reasonings which were either inconsistent with
the fundamental truths of Christianity, or likely to seduce
their minds from its original simplicity. Much also is
occupied in inculcating the moral duties of life ; in teach
ing them how all that is truly good and useful in social life
— aU that is agreeable to our natural sense of right, harmo
nises with the Gospel of Christ, and derives fresh authority
and obligation from it.
* Acts xviii. 2 ; xix. 8, 9, 10 ; xx. 20-31.

206 THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.
Corresponding with the extent and variety of this in-
stmction is the time occupied by them in bmlding up those
churches that were founded in the most considerable cities
of the Roman Empire. At Antioeh, Paul and Barnabas
continued a whole year employed in this ministry.* At
Corinth, at Ephesus, stUl longer periods were devoted to the
same object.
-And as from every evfl. under the gracious dispensation
of Providence some good is seen to spring, so may we
confidently infer that the strifes and jealousies — ^the ob
stinacy and the dulness — the prejudices, weakness, and
errors of the first churches are valuable to us, in having
caUed forth those corrections from apostohc authority, which
now form part of the written word, and which serve as a
code of law for similar cases, as often as the infirmity of
human nature stUl manifests itself (as doubtless it wiU ever
do, more or less) in similar deriations from the truth, and
in the same tendency to corrupt it. How defenceless, in
fact, would the cause of the Church now be, compared with
what it really is, if no precedents existed to guide us under
the unexpected opposition of false teachers ; and amidst the
divisions caused by men, aU professing a behef in the same
Redeemer, but obtruding from time to time their several
fancies as parts of rehgious truth, or as additional to what
the four Gospels and the Acts contain. WeU indeed, it is
for us, that corruptions arose in the Church before the
unerring master-hand was withdrawn that could remedy
them. Neither let it seem strange to any one, that the words of
eternal truth, simple as they are, and reducible to a narrow
compass, should yet require the continued and patient
labour of years to fix them in the mind, and to give them
that absolute possession of the heart which is alone de-
? AOs xL 26.

THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS. 207
serving of the name of faith. The substance, indeed, of
the Christian's belief is often expressed in a brief form of
words, comprising all the fundamental articles of our reli
gion, intelligible almost to a child, and easily committed to
memory. Of the leading points other short expositions
are current, which might be learned in the course of a few
hours, while to us, the Scriptures are always open for
reference and for fuller information in case of doubt, just
as to the earlier Christians the means were always at hand
of consulting some living guide. Yet, of those who live in
regular communion with the Church, and who have received
the ordinary rudiments of religious instruction, how many
thousands are there whose knowledge we discover, upon any
occasion which arises of closer examination, to be imperfect,
or their ideas confused, or inaccurate, or altogether erro
neous ! How many who leave out of sight some essential
point of doctrine, or betray an ignorance of its relative im
portance, or (misled by the ambiguity of language) attach a
false meaning to some principal word or phrase ! How
many, again, (and those, perhaps, the largest class,) who,
from the very circumstance of having early committed a set
form of words to memory, repeat them at length without
thought, like so many titles of chapters, the contents of
which have imperceptibly faded away from the mind, although
the loss is seldom suspected while the remembrance of the
title is famiharly retained!
It is to a certain degree the same with human sciences,
and with all the objects of intellectual pursuit; but as to
those truths which explain to us the relation we hold towards
our Maker, our Sanctifier, and our Redeemer — which regu
late not only our lives and actions, but our inmost thoughts,
and affections, and desires — which are designed to awaken
the conscience and to penetrate the heart — how can we
imagine that they will be secured to us in their practical
force and vigour merely by learning a compendious form

208 THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS.
of words — or that amidst the world of cares and distracting
objects which surround us, they wUl maintain their hold,
unless we bend our attention steadily towards them, and
proride by frequent exercise and deep meditation and con
tinual prayer, a counterpoise to that throng of rivals which
on aU sides press upon us, and which tend to hide them
from our eyes ?
Neither, again, can they expect to be favoured with a
right understanding of spiritual matters, who, whUe they
presume upon assistance fiom above, are backward in their
own endeavours, and shght the opportunities afforded them
of knowing the way of the Lord as it is discoverable from
the faithful record of his word. Without that dirine help,
indeed, their own efforts wUl be unavaUing ; and the humblest
disciple who lends a willing ear to this instructor, will ac
quire a better knowledge of divine things — wUl discern more
readUy what is suitable to his wants, and what is agreeable
to his Lord's wUl, than either the educated man who engages
in those studies without devotion, or the enthusiast who
thinks himself above the need of them.
There are men of acute and ardent minds who engage in
such inquiries, with a riew to satiate their thirst of know
ledge only; blind to the spiritual character of the truth
th^ are in quest of, and destitute of that piety which even
more than mental rigour enables a man to discover and to
apprehend it; men who are like the faUen Angel described
by our great Poet as sitting on the tree of life in Paradise,
who yet — Not on the virtue thought
Of that life-giving plant, but only used
For prospect, what, well-used, had been the pledge
Of immortality. — Paradise Lost, iv. 198.
In these discourses upon the case of ApoUos, it has been
my object to demonstrate the intimate union that subsists
between the Jewish and the Cliristian dispensations, the one

THE FULLER INSTRUCTION OF APOLLOS. 209
being gradually moulded and elevated into the other ; and to
suggest what, in all probability, were the heads of instruc
tion, which a learned and devout Jew still required, who be
lieved indeed in the crucified Jesus as the promised Messiah,
but who had never heard of the gift of the Holy Ghost in
that age, or of the revelations made to the Apostles after our
Lord's ascension — revelations of which that Body was made
the depository and the authorised dispensers to all mankind.
A gradual and progressive instruction seems to be the natural
consequence of such a plan for the foundation of the christian
Church; and from the character of the apostolic teaching,
which as a matter of fact cannot be doubted, I have endea
voured to show both that strong evidence is afforded to the
truth of Christianity, and that many advantages are derived
to the Church from it, especially in these latter times.
Let it, however, be well understood, that though the work
of Revelation has been thus gradual in its progress, it has not
come down to us as an unfinished work. The volume of
Revelation has been long ago closed. There is nothing left
for later ages to supply. The Apostles have themselves
made known to us ' all the counsel of God' as far as it was
ever revealed to man — or as far as our spiritual wants require
that it should be made known.
In this ' counsel,' my brethren, may you ever stand fast
and immovable, rejecting alike the traditions of the Romanist,
and the vain pretensions of modern enthusiasts to inspira
tion. And may God enable you to keep this faith pure and
undefiled — to walk in its light — to rejoice in its holy com
fort, and to derive peace from it to your souls both here and
hereafter. To Him, the author and finisher of our faith — ¦
with the Father and the Holy Spirit — be all praise and glory,
and honour and thanksgiring, in all churches of the saints,
world without end. Amen.

SERMON VII.

THE UNJUST STEWARD.

Luke xvi. 8.
'And the lord commended the unjust steward, because he had
done wisely : for the children of this world are in their generation
wiser than the children of light.'

'T'HE method of instruction by means of parable has been
adopted from the earliest times by aU those whose object
it was to make an impression upon simple and unculti
vated minds.
If they vrished both to awaken attention at the time, and
to fix any moral lesson firmly in the memory, they contrived
to embody it in some agreeable or interesting story, or to
connect it with some image — some external object — some
familar transaction of common life within the compass of
most men's experience.
The advantages of this method are many and important.
The chief perhaps is, that it can hardly faU of being uni
versally understood. Abstract terms (as they are called) ;
those which denote some general idea, such as 'faith,'
' grace,' ' zeal,' ' virtue,' ' right,' are very differently received
by different minds. They continuaUy require to be defined
or explained according to the use and application made of
them ; and even studious and learned men often mistake the
precise meaning, or the precise extent in which they are
employed upon each particular occasion.

THE UNJUST STEWARD. 211
But when the general truth taught assumes the form of a
familiar example, — an incident of real life, level to the
capacity and common to the experience of all mankind, — it
then carries with it its own definition and application. The
scoffer and the cariller may indeed abuse their talents in
raising doubts and starting difficulties ; but the honest and
good heart — that ground for which the seed of the word of
God is alone calculated — wUl seldom fail to perceive the just
import of the lesson ; and though it may not always be able
to resolve perplexing and ingenious questions raised by
others, or to adjust the exact limits of the rule in nice cases,
yet for all practical purposes it wiU generally be able to
decide quickly and correctly, and vrith that assistance from
above which a pious and humble believer always obtains, can
never fall into any material error.
We cannot wonder, then, that our Sariour, who preached
the Gospel to the poor in spirit, who required all his disciples
to receive the word of God as little children; that is, with
simplicity and meekness — with a desire to learn the truth,
and with entire confidence in their heavenly instructor, — we
cannot wonder that He should frequently adopt this form of
teaching. Accordingly we find that figurative comparisons,
and parables of various kinds, abound in his discourses.
Some of them indeed were designed to wrap up and to disguise
for a time the spiritual truth conveyed by them ; but this
partial and temporary concealment had the effect of making
the truth, when once it burst upon the mind, more impres
sive, and it was finally concealed from those only whose
obstinate and unbeliering minds rendered them unfit for its
reception. But the parables which are ' written for our learning,'
are to aU willing minds — to all that ' have ears to hear,' no
dark sayings. They are universaUy acknowledged to be the
most intelligible, as well as the most edifying parts of
Scripture. p 2

212 THE UNJUST STEWARD.
StUl, a necessity often arises for guarding against a mis
taken use even of these passages, and of supplying an
occasional help for their right interpretation. There are
persons, for instance, who foohshly and without the shghtest
authority pretend that every object which is mentioned in
Scripture, every animal, plant, and leaf, has its appropriate
signification of a spiritual kind, and who have perplexed
themselves and others with an attempt to explain these
things accordingly; missing, at the same time, the true
and simple lesson while in pursuit of their fancifol con
ceits and refinements. Thus, they interpret all the ordinary
occurrences of our Saviour's life, which are merely inter
woven with the story of some miracle or some instructive
discourse, as so many indications of some corresponding
thing in the inrisible world, and as containing hidden truths
to be discovered by long study and devout meditation.
Perhaps it is impossible for us exactly to draw the line
between those circumstances which are significant, and those
which are of no spiritual importance, in a parable. Neither is
it necessary that we should be able to do so. Let us recoUect
what was before said of the form of a parable. Its object was
explained to be, not merely to instruct, (for that is equally
the object of precept and admonition,) but to excite atten
tion also, and to lay hold on the memory. From its very
nature, then, we may expect that some parts of it wUl be
adapted to these latter purposes only, and be introduced
expressly with that riew. The main drift and design of
each parable is always obrious to the plainest reader. Let
that be made our beacon and our guide in the interpre
tation of the rest. ^^Tiatever we find harmonizing with
that design, inculcating the same lesson, conducive to the
same end, let us not fear to interpret in the same figurative
manner as we do the main subject. After this manner
our blessed Lord himself explains the parable of the sower ;
telling his disciples that the seed, the wayside, the rocky

THE UNJUST STEWARD. 213
ground, the birds, the thorns, the good ground, have each
their proper meaning of a spiritual kind.
Whatever does not easily admit of being so explained,
let us without hesitation believe to have been introduced
for the other legitimate purposes above mentioned, viz. to
engage the attention, and to make a lasting impression upon
the memory.
Stripped of these adventitious circumstances, the moral
instruction would still remain the same, but it would
assume the form of a dry precept, instead of that lively
and natural character which constitutes the great beauty
and use of the parable. And one cannot but lament that
men should ever have been led, by an extravagant zeal, to
misconstrue this benevolent practice of our heavenly Teacher,
and to abuse it into an occasion of mystical folly and
delusion. The parable, of which I am about more particularly to
speak, has certainly its difficulties, and in some points, I
believe, it is generalfy misunderstood. But before we enter
on the explanation of this parable, I would point out to
your notice a remarkable character of all the parables taken
collectively ; namely, that there is an endless variety in the
objects of comparison which are chosen.
Thus, the kingdom of heaven is likened to a wedding
feast, to a grain of mustard-seed, to a fishing-net, to leaven,
to a pearl of great price, to a rineyard, to a field of corn.
This very multitude and variety of images seems expressly
designed, among other wise purposes, to keep us from falling
into the absurdity of saying that any one of them is in
itself a proper emblem of the spiritual thing intended.
They are all useful for the purpose of Ulustration, but there
is no natural correspondence or secret connection between the
two things ; nor is it safe to strain the comparison of cir
cumstances further than is necessary to support the principal
idea and purpose, which is the key to the whole passage ;

214 THE UNJUST STEWARD.
and we ought to drop it whenever they fail to coincide
vrith, or to throw light upon, that purpose.
Thus, too, does our Sariour represent Himself under
various forms of comparison, according to the peculiar
object of instruction designed at the moment, as a shep
herd, as a door, as a vine, nay, in more than one passage,
as a thief in the dark.* Let me add, as a striking example
of the same kind, the parable intended to encourage us
to perseverance in prayer to God ; where the person engaged
in prayer to God is denoted by the widow making her
entreaty to the unjust judge. Surely no one ever under
stood the meaning of this to be that God resembled the
judge in his injustice, but that if perseverance would prevail
over injustice in a human judge, much more will our hea
venly Father give us what we ask for if our supplications
be earnest and unremitted, and the thing be really good
for us.
It is from not rightly understanding the true nature and
design of the parable, that many people have taken un
necessary trouble to explain what they think hard and
obscure in this of the Unjust Steward. And they have
increased the confusion by supposing it to signify, that aU
men are stewards only of their worldly property, exactly in
the same way that he was steward to his lord. But that
this interpretation is a mistake will, I think, easily be made
to appear.
It is very true that we must all give an account hereafter
of the manner in which we have employed our worldly
goods; not merely our riches, but all the faculties of our
minds and bodies. This is a solemn and important truth,
but it is not the particular lesson this parable was designed
to teach.

* ImJcc xii. 39 ; 1 Thesis, v. 2 j Matt. xxiv. 43 ; 2 Pel, iii. 10 ; Rev.
iii. 3.

THE UNJUST STEWARD. 215
That lesson I will now endeavour to unfold.
K you read a portion of the chapter just before it, you
wUl see that our Lord's more immediate object then was to
guard the disciples against covetousness, or an over-anxiety
to provide for the things of this hfe, the prevailing sin of
the Pharisees, who, as we are told in the same chapter,
' were present and heard this parable.'
It is introduced by a long series of parables, all of them
intended to caution his hearers against a mere nominal pro
fession of the Gospel, as if it were a thing to be taken in
hand hghtly, and laid down at pleasure. They ought to
weigh well. He tells them in these parables, the fuU extent
of the sacrifice they would be caUed upon to make. From
henceforward they were to become 'Children of hght;' their
treasure was to be in Heaven ; Heaven was to be their home;
and they were to look upon the things of this life, not
as valuable in themselves, but as means placed in their hands
for obtaining everlasting happiness.
With a riew to explain more fully and to impress more
forcibly the same lesson, He proceeds to put the case of a
man who is about to undergo an important change in his
fortunes ; to lose his present friends, his abode, his occupa
tion, his means of subsistence, to be turned adrift upon the
world, to go he knows not whither.
What is the thought that would naturally possess the
mind of a prudent man under those circumstances ? Would
he say, ' I wUl enjoy my place whUe I can, whatever may
be the consequence — I wUl eat, drink, and be merry ' ? Or,
would he not rather seek to employ aU his means during
the short remaining interval that he has a control over them,
in making friends among those upon whose bounty he must
soon become dependent ?
Doubtless, the few hours during which he is to retain his
office wiU appear as nothing to him, when compared with
the portion of time that is to follow. He wUl account it

"216 THE UNJUST STEWARD.
chUdish to bestow a thought upon these, and his whole
mind will be employed in contriring an adequate prorision
for that long period which includes the remainder of his
hfe. Such is the conduct which a worldly-minded man of good
sense and judgment would naturally adopt under such
circumstances. And further, if he had no scruples of
conscience to restrain him, no religious principle, no fear
or belief of anything beyond the grave, he would probably
take advantage of any means, whether honest or not, to
secure this great end, without which his ruin must appear
ineritable. All, in fact, would give way to that one purpose
of providing a secure retreat, when the sentence of dismissal
should be pronounced upon him.
Apply, now, this example, my brethren, to your own case.
Do you believe that your stay here is short — that the decree
of death has actually gone forth — that a time will shortly
come when you must resign your post, however valuable it
may be, and be translated to another state where your
present advantages vrill be of no avail ?
Doubtless such is your belief. Do you, then, like the
steward in the parable, make the preparation for that great
change the main business of your lives ? Do you cast
about, as he did, and contrive how you may obtain friends
in that other world to which you are fast approaching ? Do
you employ the riches of this life with a view to that object,
disregarding present profit and pleasure, as trifling in com
parison vrith those solid benefits which may be enjoyed in a
future -life ? Although you well know, that whether you
may continue here or not is out of your own power, yet,
are you taking care to do what is in your own power
towards improving your condition hereafter?
If the answer to these questions be such as most people of
humble and candid minds would give, the conclusion is irre
sistible — that ' the children of this world are in their genera-

THE UNJUST STEWARD. 217
tion wiser than the children of light.' They do not, by their
practice, contradict their profession. They do not halt be
tween two opinions. Baal is their God, and they follow him.
But you declare the Lord to be your God, and yet must con
fess that you do not in like manner devote yourselves to his
serrice. And yet, if you are sincere in your belief, the preparation
for your future state ought to concern you more, infinitely
more, than the steward is represented to be concerned for his.
His care was that, for the few remaining years of his life, he
might, not be left destitute. Your care, as Christians, is not
for the comfort of a few years of life, but for that eternity
compared to which the longest life of man is but as a
moment. If therefore you only bestowed an equal degree of thought
with him, you would not deserve the same commendation ;
but when you are found to bestow less upon the interests of
eternity, than a prudent man would for the sake of comfort
in his old age, how awfully impressive does the lesson be
come, and how humiliating to the heart of a pious Christian.
Will he not vrith sorrow and self-reproach confess his own
unworthiness ? Will he not, struck with the strange incon
sistency of the children of light, thus forced upon his notice,
feel the want of that help from above, without which all our
resolutions are fraU and fruitless, and will he not earnestly
implore the Father of light to ' increase his faith ' ?
Such is the natural and simple application of this instnic-
tive parable. To seek for some circumstance in the Chris
tian's case, corresponding with each minute particular in the
fictitious example, we have already observed, is to mistake
the object of this mode of teaching. Yet in the example
before us there is one point, not of simUarity, but of differ
ence, which ought not to pass unnoticed. For it cannot be
too carefully or too earnestly pressed upon your attention.

218 THE UNJUST STEWARD.
that the steward's conduct is not in all its circumstances
proposed to us as a model of imitation, but as instructive
only in its general design and character. He is represented
in his anxiety for the future as setting at nought even moral
principle, when it stood in the way of his main purpose.
His duty was violated that he might serve his interest. But
for us no such violation is ever necessary in order to carry
the precept into full effect. Our duty and our interest in
this great concern go hand in hand. We have no occasion
to defraud our Lord here in order to secure to ourselves a
friend hereafter; for the friend who is to receive us into
everlasting habitations is the same who has entrusted us
with the goods now at our disposal.
He willeth not that any should perish ; and it is only by
doing his will here, that we can ever expect to obtain his
favour here or hereafter.
When, therefore, we perform acts of friendship, of kind
ness, of compassion, of liberality to those around us, we are
not like the unjust steward, bribing our Lord's debtors at his
expense. We are making that very use of his treasure which
He himself approves. He will not love us if we do not love
one another.
The lesson therefore becomes doubly strong, and its appli
cation more pointed. There is not a shadow of excuse left
us if we regard it not. It must be a deliberate and decided
preference of the interests of this life, over the interests of
eternity, and nothing but that, which can account for the
inconsistency. These are reflections which will probably occur to the
most worldly-minded man upon his death-bed. In that
hour he will acknowledge that when the world called him
wise, he was in reality acting most foolishly; that it was
but lost labour that he rose up early and so late took rest,
and ate the bread of carefulness, for aU that carefulness was

THE UNJUST STEWARD. 219
wasted upon a day, whUe the season of eternity (for which
he made little or no provision) was advancing rapidly upon
him. Let the reflections of his death-bed be the companion and
the guide of our active days. If there be truth in them,
they are true in themselves, true at all times, true, not in
the gloom and solitude of the sick chamber only, but in the
broad sunshine of life. The business of the world — its
glittering objects and fleeting pleasures — may withdraw our
attention from them, they cannot alter their nature. And be
it our care, with the blessing of Almighty God, and the aid
of his Holy Spirit, that they do not ever hide them from
our eyes.

SERMON VIII.

CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY.

2 CoE. ix. 7.
' Every man according as he purposeth in his heart, so let him
give ; not grudgingly, or of necessity : for God loveth a cheerful
giver.' 'T'HAT 'to give is more blessed than to receive,' is one
of those sayings which fell from the lips of Him who
spake not as man speaketh, and yet it is not recorded by
any of the four Evangelists. It is preserved to us only
in that beautiful and affecting passage of the Acts, xx. 35,
which contains the farewell address of St. Paul to the elders
or presbyters of the Church of Ephesus. In this address
he adverts to it as a well-known saying of our Lord already
famihar to their minds, for he bids them remember the words
of the Lord Jesus, how He said, 'It is more blessed to give
than to receive.'
That the act of giving, under the christian dispensation,
even when the gift has reference to the worship of God,
should always be accompanied by a feeling of love and
charity towards our neighbour, is evident from the solemn
injunction of our Lord to those who made their offerings
at the altar under the Law, ' Leave there thy gift before
the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy
brother, and then come and offer thy gift.' (Matt. v. 24.)
When, therefore, in the primitive Church, offerings were
made as a most appropriate and accceptable part of that

CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY. 221
service in which the sacrifice on the cross was comme
morated, we cannot wonder that both these objects, devotion,
I mean, to the Redeemer, and love to the brethren whom
He has redeemed, should be combined, and that in the ex
hortation to perform this duty so binding and indispensable
upon aU Christians, the congregation should be reminded how
closely allied and how intimately connected the two things
are vrith one another. ' If a man loveth not his brother
whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not
seen ?' Accordingly, in the compUation of our Communion
Serrice, care has been taken that each object shall in its turn
be made prominent, and its special obligation be impressed
upon the assembled communicants.
In process of time, indeed, when our Churches had be
come weU endowed, and permanent means were prorided for
the maintenance of public worship, and when the laws
imposed on every parish the obligation of supporting the
fabric of their church, and of providing what was absolutely
necessary for divine service, there seemed to be less occasion
to press this duty upon the attention of the people, and,
accordingly, the practice grew by degrees of omitting
those passages in the Offertory which especially relate to
the support of religion, and of confining the exhortation
to the duty of alms-giring and the rehef of the sick and
needy ; and whenever an extraordinary appeal was thought
necessary to be made to the bounty of Christians, either
for some institution instrumental to the cause of the Gospel
in this country, or to its propagation through the world, or
for any particular object of charity, a coUection was made
after the serrice, not from communicants only, but from the
whole congregation, to whom the object had been recom
mended and explained.
For my own part, I see no reason for departing from this
method which has long prevailed, especiaUy when due
notice has been given of the intended collection, so that

222 CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY.
none can be forced to give as it were grudgingly and of
necessity. Nor, again, does it seem to me expedient that
communicants alone should be invited to contribute to such
purposes as equally concern the whole community, or at
least, the whole Church of Christ.
Neither do I think that the circumstances of this age
require that weekly collection of alms in the church, which,
in the primitive ages, was universal and almost necessary,
in order to supply the wants of the poorer brethren. During
the reign of heathenism no regular of legal prorision existed
for the destitute. They were left to the precarious charity
of their kindred, or their neighbours, or humane indiriduals,
and they often perished for want. History preserves no
annals of these private and obscure sufferings, but, because
they are not recorded, let us not suppose that they never
happened. On the contrary, we are sure that death from
famine and neglect, in cases of sickness and old age, must
continually have occurred. For even under the influence
of Christianity, and in countries well-organised and governed,
especially in seasons of scarcity, such things often happen.
But, for more than two centuries, in this country it has
become a ciril as well as a religious duty to supply those
who are in want and incapable of supporting themselves,
vrith food and shelter and all the bare necessaries of life.
This systematic prorision, I say, renders the weekly collec
tion in the churches less requisite than heretofore ; although
it ought by no means to be regarded as superseding the exer
cise of private charity. Indeed, it is one of the advantages of
that system of legal relief now more sparingly administered
than formerly, that it enables us to bestow relief on indiri
duals who from various causes are entitled to some distinction,
i. e. to an indulgence in the distribution of our ahns, which,
if extended indiscriminately to all as it used to be, must in
time exhaust the very funds by which they are supplied.
It must tend to discourage industry and. fragality, to lead

CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY. 223
men to neglect domestic claims, and to rely upon the pro
perty of others for supporting themselves and their nearest
relatives, and is thus utterly inconsistent vrith the plan of
providence in the structui-e of human society.
There must then, I say, always be ample scope for alms
giving. Let hospitals, and alms-houses, and workhouses,
and asylums, for relief of various kinds of distress, be ever
so much multiplied, we cannot, do what we wUl, banish
poverty from the world. We cannot, by any contrivance of
ours, provide beforehand for all cases of occasional distress.
And it is well that we cannot. It is well that the motive
for individual charity is inseparable from social life, that
the poor shall never (as Moses told the Israelites) cease
out of the land (Deut. xv. 11); therefore they were bid to
open their hand wide unto their brethren, when they were
in need and wanted help.
But admitting aU this, the prorision made by law being so
extensive, compared vrith what it was two or three centuries
ago, we may now safely return to that other object in our
ordinary Church oblations, which had become almost forgot
ten, absorbed as it was into the more pressing claims of
poverty ; and we may and ought to devote some portion of
our substance on these solemn occasions to spiritual pur
poses. Even where enough is raised by legal imposts for the
repairs of our churches, and for the mere decency of public
worship, there is surely room — very often there is an urgent
demand — for some additional means, to give solemnity, and
beauty, and affecting interest to the performance of holy
ordinances. We cannot prescribe any exact limits to these
things. They must vary with the habits of society — with
the supei-fluity of means at our command — with the taste
and inclinations of the people for whom they are designed.
There is a degree of ornament and decoration which is
almost called for in some churches, and in one condition of
society, yet which is unsuitable or imdesirable in another.

224 CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY.
But although no positive rule can be given for these mat
ters, yet we may approach towards a rule, and certainly we
may present to the mind some reasons which ought to guide
then- judgment in the performance of this sacred duty. For
instance, we may bid men look around on the habitations in
their neighbourhood, the prorision made both vrithin and
without for comfort, for elegance, for splendour, greater than
was even thought of in the time of their ancestors ; we may
dii-ect their attention to the improvement which has taken
place in this age, as compared with foi-mer ages, in aU the
arts of hfe, in the buildings, pubhc and private, in aU that
is designed for innocent pleasure and amusement — and stiU
more in the display of wealth and taste, wherever wealth and
taste can contribute to the personal pride or the enjoyment
of the possessor. And can we sun^ey aU this, and not feel
that the house of God is at least entitled to partake in the
general improvement ? Did not David say, with a feehng of
self-reproach, ' See now, I dweU in a house of cedai-, but the
ark of God dwelleth within cmtains ' ? (2 Sam. vii. 2.) And
shaU not we, whose houses, even in the middle and lower
levels of hfe, almost equal the habitations of princes some
centm-ies ago, shall not we seek to give at least a correspond
ing degree of improvement and decoration to the place of
Christian worship ?
It is ti-ue that ' God dweUeth not in temples made with
hands ; neither is worshipped with men's hands, as though he
needed anything ' (Acts xvu. 24, 25), yet is He pleased vrith
that show of love, and veneration, and honour, which pious
men have at aU times been eager to express, and which at the
same time proves, by some sacrifice of then worldly goods,
the sincerity of their acknowledgment, that He is the au
thor and giver of them aU.
In aU times, and under every form of rehgion, I say, this
feeling has been found to exist ; corrupt indeed often in the
manner and in the object of it, and in the preposterous

CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY. 225
excess to which it has been sometimes carried. But this is
the case vrith the exercise of all our feelings. They are all
liable to be led astray, and all require discipline and regu
lation. The feeling itself, however, is the testimony of universal
nature to the duty, now recommended as being an act of
homage from the creature to his Creator. And can that act
be less proper, as an expression of love and gratitude, when
directed towards om- Redeemer ? Can we read the emphatic
injunction of Moses to the Israelites, and not feel its applica
tion to ourselves, for whom the fulfilment of that law has
been achieved in the person of our Sariour ? ' Three times
in a year shaU all thy males appear before the Lord ; and ye
shall not appear before the Lord empty.' (Deut. xvi. 16.)
The amount of voluntary offerings was left to the conscience
of each indiridual to determine, but it was expected that
they would be in some degree proportionate to their respec
tive means. There was indeed provision made by the law of
Moses for the support of religion — a whole tribe was set
apart for that purpose, and was endowed with a tenth part of
the produce of the land. But besides the bare maintenance
of religion in all necessary things, there was a perpetual duty
still incumbent — not on the rich only, but on all the mem
bers of the Church — a duty not measured by law, but by
their own love and devotion — a duty which St. Paul de
scribes by the beautiful and appropriate metaphor — ' a sweet-
smeUing savour, acceptable to God.'
And this, you wUl observe, is the true sense of that passage
in the Gospels, often produced and applied, but really in a
less appropriate manner, when contributions are solicited for
hospitals and other pubhc charities. The ' widow's mite ' is
commended by our Lord, as an index of the devout frame of
mind of the individual, who was ready in the service of God
to make a tender of all her substance. The gift itself per
haps was not sufficient to pay for one stroke of the hammer
Q

226 CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY.
in the work of repairing the temple, yet was it, as an eri
dence of entire devotion, more acceptable in the sight of
God than the offerings of the wealthy. Let not the poor man,
then, think that it is a privilege to be exempted from this
duty. It is rather a privilege that he is equaUy inrited to
take part in this work of love, and that whatever be his tri
bute money, paid to God and not to Csesar, it vrill be
accepted by Him who seeth in secret, and who will not faU in
his own good time to reward him openly.
But, if there be an excess in the performance of this
christian duty — if the zeal of Christians has sometimes out
run their discretion, and thrown a sort of theatrical pomp
and pageantry over divine worship, so as to break in upon
the simplicity of gospel tnith, and to distract the mind by
offering too many objects of admnation, and to gratify the
senses rather than to soften and improve the heart, — if, I
say, this eiTor has been committed in the name of religion
(and who that has entered a Popish Church and witnessed
Popish ceremonies, can deny that this may be the case), it
becomes us to beware how we cany the love of decoration
and of imposing ceremony too far, and to be careful first to
proride things decent and honest in the sight of all men,
before we larish ornaments and costly embellishments, which
are but accompaniments to that pm-er worship that is
required of us, the worship of God in spirit and in truth.
And here I must entreat you, my beloved brethren, to re
flect upon the great principles of our Reformed National
Church, especially upon those which distinguish its ritual
from that of the Church of Rome. We do not seek to exalt
the priesthood as a class altogether distinct ft'om the congre
gation — as alone engaged in sacred mysteries — whUe the
people gaze in sUence, and either prostrate themselves at the
tinkling of a bell, or perform some ceremony as a kind of
charm or amulet against the influence of the Deril. We do
not seek, by punctilious change of dress, or by bm-ning

CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY. 227
incense, or by useless lights, or by the use of images and
the power of music, to throw men into a sort of trance,
taking advantage of all the infirmities of human nature, and
degrading the worship of the Church of Christ almost to a
level with heathen rites and mysteries. All these corrup
tions we have openly renounced and abandoned : God grant
that they may never again be permitted to creep in among us,
however crafty and insidious the means by which this return
to former errors may be attempted. It is the glory of the
Reformed Church of this nation to have shown, according to
the Apostle's rule, its ' moderation in all things.' We have
retained all that we think edifying and solemn and decorous
in public worship. We endeavour, in the case of the Holy
Communion, to keep before the minds of the congregation
the great mystery of redemption, careful to present to them
in full view the place and the table appointed for the per
petual celebration of that Holy Ordinance.
We explain to them the word of God from the pulpit,
careful not to exalt human preaching above the service due
to our Heavenly Father, and to the Lord who bought us.
We teach them to pray with the spirit and to pray with the
understanding also, not to listen ignorantly while priests
pray in an unknown tongue; but we seek to make them join
with us in common prayer, occasionally uttering aloud with
one accord praises and portions of the prayers, that they may
feel it to be their own concern not less than the office of
presbyters and deacons who minister in the church, thus to
swell the chorus of divine praise.
And here permit me to expostulate freely with you upon a
point of duty in which the congregations, especially of this
part of the country, are greatly deficient. They have their
allotted portions in the service of the Church, equally with
the minister. Why is it not equaUy performed ? Why
should there be either a dead silence, or a whisper only, or a
low voice from a few scarcely to be heard, when the institu-
Q 2

228 CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY.
tions of the Church call for a fellowship in prayer, a joint
performance of this interesting act of open praise and thanks
giving from the whole assembly ? It is in fact one of the
characteristic features of the Reformation — a Reformation
which brought us out of almost heathen darkness into the
glorious light of the Gospel. And shall not we, while false
brethren among us are seeking to bring us back into the former
bondage, steadily and manfully maintain the principles of
that great work, and guard well our defences, and make good
our profession of faith, and show that we at least are not
ashamed of the Church to which we belong, and are resolved
to keep it pure and undefiled by any admixture of spurious
rites, or any innovations which may endanger its purity or
disturb its peace?
Upon this subject, however, I will dwell no longer, greatly
as I feel its importance at all times, and more especially in
reference to the dangers which now assail our Church. But
in pursuance of the general objects I had in view, when
chusing the subject of this discourse, I proceed to the con
sideration of that pleasing branch of church serrice which
calls in the aid of music, and makes that divine art subser-
rient to the ends of devotion.
In this respect, too, the wisdom and the moderation of our
Reformed Church are strikingly exemplified. Instead of re
jecting this auxiliary, and confining its province to the singing
of psalms and hymns by the whole congregation as was the
wish of the Puritans, and as is the practice of nearly all the
reformed churches of the Continent, we have wisely retained
both vocal and instrumental music, cultivated and refined by
professional skill, as an useful and edifying part of public
worship. Careful indeed were our first Reformers, and care
ful ought we to be, not to suffer it to encroach beyond its
proper province, which it is always prone to do, if not kept
under due control ; careful not to let it become a mere dis
play of skill, or a gratification of the taste of the hearers, or

CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY. 229
an occasion of critical study and emulation ; but entirely
conformed to the spirit of our religion, conducive solely to
devotional feeling; the handmaid and not the rival, much
less the mistress of a liturgy. Even in this restricted province
there is large opportunity given for the cultivation of the art,
and for the adaptation of it to the character and circum
stances of the congregation. In a remote village and in a
crowded town we should not desire to have precisely the
same choir. In general, I should say, that some parts of
this accompaniment might be addressed merely to the ex
citement and the direction of devotional feeling ; while other
parts, and those, perhaps,, the most considerable, ought to be
such as would assist only, and encourage, and regulate the
singing of the whole congregation. This latter object is at
least equal in importance, if not superior, to the former.
Neither of them ought wholly to supersede the other ; but
if we are driven to the alternative of chusing between them,
I have no hesitation in saying that congregational singing
should have the preference.
Even this, however, may be greatly improved and encou
raged by a due exercise of the other. ' I will sing vrith the
spirit, and I will sing vrith the understanding also,' is a
sacred principle. Without this, the music of the church
rises not above the music of the theatre. It may refine, and
exalt, and purify our affections, but it vrill not aid the
preaching of the Gospel — and sometimes it has been known
to interfere vrith it ; but, kept in due subordination to that
principle, it may become, and it often has become, a powerful
coadjutor in the cause of pure religion.
It is not, then, an irrelevant topic in the discourse which
I am now addressing to you on the Offertory at the Com
munion Service, and on the purposes to which offerings so
made may properly be apphed. That church music of a
high order cannot be procured and regularly maintained
without considerable expense, is well known. The funds for

230 CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY.
this expense must be voluntary. The rich will doubtless
take care not to leave this important object altogether uncer
tain in its amount, or precarious in its duration. But what
is for the benefit and religious comfort of all is surely not a
matter of indifference to any; and aU, therefore, who can
contribute towards it ought to feel it a duty to do something,
however small, for so good a purpose.
That it is one of the legitimate purposes of the Offertory,
I have endeavoured to persuade you. Would God that what
I have said may make an impression on your hearts, and
lead you to reflect upon the great use there is in assembhng
yourselves together on the Lord's day, under the guidance
of that Church which He appointed, when He left the world,
to be the pillar and ground of the truth in aU ages. In that
holy assembly you may join in prayer and thanksgiring, and
in lifting up your voices to Him in psalms, and hymns, and
spiritual songs, making melody in your hearts before God.
But although this is one good purpose for which you are
called upon to meet and to make offerings at the Lord's
table, and one which will undoubtedly profit your own souls,
yet be careful to remember that it is one purpose only among
many for which those offerings should be made, and that
you must ever bear in mind the wants, also, of your poorer
brethren. The application of the means which the devout commu
nicants may thus from time to time supply, is wisely left to
the discretion of the local authorities of the church in which
the offering is made. There are, as I said, many other
objects to which they may be applied, all more or less con
ducive to the honour of God, as weU as to the comfort and the
edification of the assembled church ; but whatever funds may
be thus collected, they are, beyond a doubt, principaUy due to
charitable objects. For, let it never be forgotten, that though
faith may by these means be increased, and hope nourished
thereby, jet the greatest of all christian duties is charity.

SERMON IX.
JUDGE NOT ONE ANOTHER.

Romans xiv. 13.
' Let us not therefore judge one another any more : but judge this
rather, that no man put a stumbling-block or an occasion to fall in
his brother's way.'

'T'HE general tenor of St. Paul's reasoning and doctrine
in this epistle harmonises admirably with the grand
principle for which he contends in the opening of it, namely,
that all mankind, both Jew and GentUe, had come short of
their duty to God, and had no hope of obtaining his favour
by any doings or deservings of their own.
He demonstrates the large and hberal character of that
dispensation which our blessed Saviour had brought into
the world, a dispensation under which all distinctions were
cancelled, except those of faith in his redemption and obe
dience to his commands. And ' his commands are not griev
ous ' — they are not hke the Mosaic ordinances, ' touch not,
taste not, handle not,' minute and burdensome, and extend
ing to all the external details of social and domestic hfe;
but in Ueu of these is propounded a principle more com
prehensive, both as it regards God and man, freeing our
bodies from endless observances, but subjecting our minds
more entirely than before to one universal law of holiness
and charity.
This change of character is insisted upon, and Ulustrated

232 JUDGE NQT ONE ANOTHER.
in a great variety of passages; — in none, perhaps, more
pithily and decisively than in a verse which follows soon
after my text : ' For the kingdom of God is not meat and
drink; but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy
Ghost.' (Rom. xiv. 17.)
Yet in the assertion of this liberty vrith which Christ had
made them free, the disciples are cautioned to keep steadUy
in mind the great law of charity under which it ought to
be exercised.
A great part of the epistle is occupied in reproring the
weak, (those who still attached a value and importance to
the Jevrish ceremonies,) for condemning those who were
less scrupulous; and this they often did in such terms as
were disparaging to the great Author of our redemption,
and implied a want of faith in the one all-sufficient atone
ment made by Him on the cross. This error, indeed, was
so wide-spread, and so inveterate, that we cannot wonder
at the frequent and earnest refutation of it, not only here,
but more especially in the epistle to the Galatians, and
generally to all churches founded on the basis of a Jevrish
synagogue. But in the passage before us, the opposite party also are
admonished against too free and offensive a use of their
privilege, and against a disposition unnecessarUy to wound
the prejudices of their weaker brethren. To all Christians,
then, he may be understood to address the first words of
the text, ' Let us not, therefore, judge one another any
more;' and the latter part specially to the more enlightened
and unprejudiced ; ' but judge this rather, that no man
put a stumbling-block or an occasion to fall in his brother's
way.' The first class of errors, it may be thought, have so long
disappeared from the christian Church that it would be
a waste of time to dwell upon them now. The observances
of the Levitical law are, indeed, no longer maintained by

JUDGE NOT ONE ANOTHER. 233
any professed Christians, and the only approach to them
which exists in the present age, is in the rites and cere
monies of the Romish Church. Wheresoever these are found
to mUitate against the great fundamental truths of the
Gospel, we are bound, as the primitive Christians were
enjoined by St. Paul to do, to renounce and abjure them
as acts of rebeUion against the Lord.
To repeat a daUy sacrifice, for instance, not as com
memorative, but as a real and efficacious atonement through
the ministrations of the priest, we hold to be a corruption
of gospel simphcity, and a detraction from the virtue of
that one great oblation and satisfaction for the sins of the
whole world made by our Saviour on the Cross. With such
a corruption we can keep no terms. We reject it entirely
and at once, as founded in gross error, and as the parent
of a world of superstition, exalting the human priesthood
at the expense of that one Great High Priest, who is the
author and finisher of our faith, and enslaving the minds
of ignorant men to a mysterious power of human con
trivance. I give this as a pregnant example of those rehgious errors,
vrith which no compromise ought to be made, inasmuch as
they strike at the root of aU true doctrine. There are
others which might be enumerated of a similar kind, such
as the worship of images and relics, prayers addressed to
the Virgia and to the Saints for their intercession vrith
God, aU of them not only vrithout warrant from Scripture,
but practicaUy hurtful to the cause of the Gospel, and
diverting men's minds from Him, who is alone ' the way,
the truth, and the life,' the only sure guide and captain
of our salvation.
It is not in reference, then, to points such as these, that
we are directed to be indulgent and forbearing, to make
concessions, to suspend our judgments, to treat them as
matters of indifference, or to abstain from a firm and earnest

234 JUDGE NOT ONE ANOTHER.
rindication of our faith : although even in these, when they
originate not in profaneness but in error, we cannot be too
careful how we wantonly hurt the feelings, or angrily and
fiercely attack the character of those vrith whom om' dis
pute may lie. Besides the uselessness of such a proceeding,
which has a tendency rather to harden the opponent, and
to shut his mind more obstinately against conriction, the
practice has an injurious effect upon our own minds, and
often creates a self-delusion, leading us to imagine that when
we are really gratifying the eagerness of our ovra. passions,
we are zealous only for the honour of God. But whenever
vital points of doctrine are at stake, we must then be re
solute and unbending, not give way by submission, ' no,
not for an hour,' however inoffensive and conciliating our
tone and manner may be, and indeed ought to be, towards
those who sincerely differ from us.
The fault, however, to which mankind are most prone
is, not a stubborn, inflexible adherence to what they erro
neously deem essential truth, but an intolerant spirit towards
those who disagree in what is not essential, and a busy
inquisitorial disposition to sift and canvass their opinions,
and to bring something to light which they construe as
incompatible with sound doctriue.
Now, although it is undoubtedly a duty of all those who
take up the cross of Christ to make a sacrifice even of the
pleasures of social life, whenever they are plainly incom
patible with his serrice, and with the open profession of
faith in Him; yet we are bound also, in the same spirit of
charity which pervades the whole of his Gospel, not to pre
sent unnecessary difficulties in the way of those who are
willing to come to Him : we are bound not to deter, but to
invite disciples ; not to alarm, but to encourage the hearers
of the word; not to give causeless offence to the con
science, but to remove, as far as we can with safety to
gospel truth, all hindrances and impediments in a brother's

JUDGE NOT ONE ANOTHER. 235
way ; and to lessen, rather than to aggravate, the force of
those natural causes which are always obstructing the pro
gress of spiritual truth among men.
Far, indeed, be it from the mind of any christian teacher
to lower the tone of christian morals, to make a compromise
with any vicious habit or propensity, to foster a careless
secTU'ity as to the state of the soul, or to represent the
demand which God makes upon our heart and affections,
as less entire or less unqualified than it really is. But
among men who are not chargeable with this offence, and
often, indeed, among those who inculcate this view of the
Gospel most zealously, there is a disposition observed to
insist with more than justifiable rigour upon certain points
of doctrinal interpretation as essential to a saring faith.
Thus it is sometimes insisted that an internal conscious
ness of being in spiritual communion with Christ is the
only test of a true believer. I will not now enlarge upon
that more dangerous error which has long distracted the
Church, and which is a grievous stumbling-block and rock
of offence with many a humble and devout disciple, that
each man's doom is already settled, whether for death or
life. But there are modes of teaching the necessity of re-
generation and of conversion, which have a similar revolting
effect, and which have often, it is to be feared, turned back
those who were entering on the right path, and have made
them judge themselves unworthy of eternal life, because
they are sensible of a very vride difference between the
state and disposition of their own minds, and that perfect
spiritual devotedness which they have been taught to attri
bute to the converted soul.
Now, in a question of this high and difficult nature, so
far removed from the ordinary range of our faculties, it is
surely unbecoming in any man to prescribe more exact limi
tations to the revealed truth than the clear and uniform
unequivocal language of Scripture warrants. I say the

236 JUDGE NOT ONE ANOTHER.
uniform language of Scripture, for it is in Holy Scripture,
as in all other compositions, that language is found to be
a variable and imperfect medium, the same words not always
used precisely in the same signification, but requiring the
aid of the context, and of other kindred passages, in order
to determine their proper force and meaning in the passage
under consideration.
When, therefore, a latitude and variety of meaning is
unquestionable, and when according to one sense the con
science of a brother is offended, and according to another
his mind is comforted and his faith strengthened, it is
at least presumptuous in us to decide vrith peremptory
rigour, and to deny to him the benefits of the Gospel, or
to disturb his peace because he accepts a signification
varying in degree, or in some slight circumstance, from our
own. At the same time, be it remembered, that it is each man's
duty, to search out the truth of divine things, according to
the best of his ability, and of the helps and opportunities
that are before him. ' Prove all things, hold fast that which
is good,' is an apostolic precept, the force of which I would
be far from endeavouring to weaken ; but it is a precept hable
to mistake and abuse, and it is against the abuse only that
my cautions are now directed.
For instance, that which I have by dUigent study satisfied
myself to be the just interpretation, I am bound to adhere
to in my own person, and to make my conduct and thoughts
as far as possible conformable to it. But it by no means
foUows, that I am bound to impose the sam.e yoke upon
others, whose judgments are different from my own, or that
I have any right to try them by my own conscience in
matters concerning which a sincere difference of opinion
may be entertained among members of the same common
faith. We may be firmly persuaded of an opinion, and yet
not authorised to require that persuasion in others. How

JUDGE NOT ONE ANOTHER. 237
instructive, then, to Christians of this age and of every age,
are the records we have in the apostohc writings of rehgious
disputes prevaiUng in the primitive Church. Most of them,
we know, originated in the religious persuasions of the
Jevrish converts, persuasions formed long before the preach
ing of the Gospel ; prejudices, we call them, because we have
the authority of an Apostle for discarding their obligation.
Yet even he does not condemn them, except when they inter
fere with the fundamental doctrines of Christianity.
It was going far for him who had himself been a rigid
observer of such things, to treat them as matters of in
difference. Yet even he does not declare that they are
altogether matters of indifference to the individual whose con
science is not yet enlightened on the subject. And here hes
the edifying character of the whole example. We have no
right, he says, however conrinced we may be of the httle
importance of these things, to disregard them or to despise
them, if by so doing we hurt the feelings or endanger
the conscience of a weak brother. In this respect they be
come at once invested vrith importance, inasmuch as the
happiness or the safety of another may be involved in the
question. There is not, perhaps, a passage in the whole body of
the Epistles more full of instruction, in doubtful matters of
daily occurrence, than this, from which my text is taken.
' To him that esteemeth anything to be unclean, to him it is
unclean. But if thy brother be grieved vrith thy meat, now
walkest thou not charitably. Destroy not him with thy
meat for whom Christ died  For meat destroy
not the work of God. All things indeed are pure ; but it is
eril for that man who eateth with offence.' (Rom. xiv. 14,
15, 20.)
Having, then, received this explicit authority, or rather this
authoritative injunction to avoid an unnecessary rigour, and
to speak the truth in charity, it surely becomes us, in aU re-

238 JUDGE NOT ONE ANOTHER.
Ugious disputes arising out of various interpretations of God's
word, to make aUowance for the errors, as they may seem to
us to be, of those who differ from us ; not, indeed, to com
promise the truth, but to be cautious and forbearing how we
press that upon others as indispensable and as inseparable
from the right understanding of the Gospel, which they
cannot yet regard in the same light, although they agree with
us in all the essential points, and build their faith upon the
same foundation of the writings of the Apostles and Pro
phets vrith ourselves. In cases of this kind, let us always
seek for means of union rather than for grounds of separation;
let us endeavour to reconcUe opinions which have many and
great points in common, instead of seeking to discover dif
ferences which, however real, yet do not impair the funda
mental truths in connection vrith which they are found.
To take the single example of Baptismal regeneration.
That baptism is the initiation into spiritual hfe — that
life which our Saviour procured for us, and which through
the influence of the Holy Spirit will be for ever maintained
within us — no man can deny who receives the vn-itten word
of the New Testament. But the precise moment of its
communication, or the commencement of its operation — the
gradual progress and growth of this dirine grace — the degree
in which it aids the natural man, and resists the powers of
evU within him — all these are among the hidden things of
God. They are not necessary to our spiritual welfare, and,
therefore, they are not revealed. To start curious questions,
therefore, on this subject— to argue them boldly and vehe
mently — to charge those who differ from us with denial of
the power of the ordinance of baptism, or again, on the
other hand, vrith a superstitious exaggeration of it, may
be a worse error, a more grievous offence against the Gospel
of Christ, than to form an imperfect notion, yet with
humUity and sincerity, of some part of this mysterious
doctrine.

JUDGE NOT ONE ANOTHER. 239
That baptism is necessary to a Christian, that the form of
it was prescribed by our Lord himself, that those who duly
receive it are made his children by adoption and grace, —
these are wholesome and necessary truths — truths in which
nearly the whole christian world has been agreed from the
earliest times. But when questions are proposed, what
constitutes the due performance of baptism — how soon the
divine influence operates — how much may depend upon the
corresponding action of the baptized person's mind — at what
age it ought to be administered, — all these are matters on
which much subtle disputation has not only been idly but
mischievously spent. In Scripture there is no positive solu
tion of them to be found. Yet there are reasons to be
adduced from Scripture for and against the several tenets
of the contending parties ; and it is, doubtless, the duty of
a Christian to adhere as closely as possible to that doctrine
which to himself seems to possess the greatest probabUity,
and to be supported by the best authority. But he is not
bound to require the same acquiescence in his opinion from
others, on pain of their forfeiting the whole benefit of the
ordinance in case of disagreement.
Neither is he justified in seceding from the Church, unless
he is conrinced that the Church is in a grievous and funda
mental error, such as we hold the Church of Rome is to
this day ; much less is any man justified in forming a new
party, or sect, adopting a new name, either the name of
a leader, or of some favourite preacher, or any other fanciful
distinction. It is in questions of this kind that the authority of the
Church claims the submission of all true believers, not
nerely as eridence of the early practice and opinion of
[Ihristians, although that alone is superior to any man's
vrivate opinion, but as a means of concord, which cannot be
(reserved among men unless some concession be made of

240 JUDGE NOT ONE ANOTHER.
indiridual judgment to the coUective sense of the governing
Body. It is only in matters not positively commanded or
expressly revealed in Scripture that the authority of the
Church is claimed. And even then it is asserted, not with
the impious arrogance of the Romish See, as possessing equal
claim to submission vrith the word of God, but as the
nearest approach we can make to a right judgment in doubt
ful matters, and as the safest guide for indiriduals amidst
endless diversities of opinion. The decision of the Church,
then, in its reformed state, is not placed as a stumbhng-
block in a brother's way. He is not told that his error wiU
forfeit his salvation; but he is taught and admonished not
to think more highly of himself than he ought to think ;
not to pretend conscience, when he is in fact impeUed by
faction, or strife, or personal dishke, or an overweening con
ceit and confidence in himself; and he is warned, whether
right or wrong, not rashly to venture upon opposing his
single opinion to the deUberate sense of the Church of
God. In most of these questions, however, which have at various
periods agitated the christian world, especially the reformed
part of it, it is curious to observe how httle the genuine
essentials of gospel truth have been affected by them.
When not engaged in the controversy, the pious preacher
has generaUy taught, and the devout hearer has generaUy
believed, all the rital doctrines of redemption. Not that
controversy is in itself wrong — ^for where important error is
taught it must be combated — but the heat of controversy,
and the dislike engendered by it, tend to give an undue im
portance to the points in dispute, and to sink the due im
portance of other questions, although incalculably more
momentous than they, and thus not only to place a stum
bling-block in the way, by exciting unkind and uncharitable
feelings, but by turning the attention from the weightier

JUDGE NOT ONE ANOTHER. 241
matters of the law to those minor considerations about
which the dispute usually tm-ns.*
I will not now enter into a minute consideration of those
ritual observances, concerning which some variation of prac
tice has been found to exist in different Churches, although
the letter of the law enjoins uniformity, and every clergyman
engages to obey that law. But I avoid the discussion of
these things in detail, because I am convinced it leads to no
good end, except when the variation seems to arise from
carelessness and indifference on the part of the minister,
which is a thing severely to be reproved, and more especially
if it be adopted for his own ease, or to lessen his own share
of duty. A departure from any rule, in order to gratify this
inclination, cannot be censured too severely. Let the devia
tion be ever so slight, the motive makes it sinful, and in a
clergyman such a sin is doubly grievous, if it give offence
even to weak brethren. He then not only sins against his
own soul, but he gives great occasion to the enemies of his
Lord to blaspheme. ' If one man sin against another,' said
the aged high priest Eli to his profligate sons, ' the judge
shall judge him, but if a man sin against the Lord, who shall
entreat for him ?' And so do I say to you, my young friends
of the common ministry, in the presence of the congregation.
Whatever you do in the church, let it be seriously and con
scientiously done, as the Apostle bids us, with a view to
edification. Think not of yourselves, but of those whom
you are appointed to instruct, to admonish, and to bring
forward in the way of salvation. Lead them not to imagine
that there is any saving virtue in one ceremony, or in one
posture, more than in another. But impress upon them the
duty of humUity, and concord, and love ; and show by your
own example that you seek their good, and not your own

* See Thoughts on Infant Baptism, — Ed.

242 JUDGE NOT ONE ANOTHER.
ease, or pleasure, or profit in any of those things which con
tentious persons may find fault vrith as not being exactly
according to the letter of the law, although they are perfectly
in unison vrith its spirit. Seek not to attract attention to
such things, much less to provoke or to risk controversy
about them. If ever a perplexity should arise as to your
own duty, you may consult the Authority under which you
are placed, not to indulge curiosity, or to start needless diffi
culties, but to satisfy your own minds, and to dispel uneasy
doubts, and to have an answer to give to gainsayers. What
ever the Authorities placed over you may direct, conformably
to our canons, you are bound to obey ; but trifling variations,
sanctioned by long and general usage, and not introduced
for a sake of change, or from any irreverent or worldly
motive, cannot, unless when forbidden by authority, be re
garded as offences, neither ought they to be made subjects of
serious complaint by any individuals. Let any who are so
disposed remember the admonition of St. Paul in a case
strikingly similar. ' Let us therefore follow after the things
which make for peace, and things wherewith one may edify
another.' ' For the kingdom of God is not meat and drink ;
but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.'
(Rom. xiv. 19, 17.)
Whenever then, unhappily for the Church, a disposition
prevails to magnify lesser points and to dogmatise in a
peremptory manner on things which the Scripture seems to
have left either free and undecided, or but partiaUy revealed,
be it our care to keep the Church united, as far as we can,
instead of dividing it — inculcating the sin of causeless divi
sion, and the duty of conformity in all matters of inferior
moment, and deprecating the attempt of imposing straiter
terms of communion on our brethren than Scripture itself
plainly warrants. And where they complain that their
understanding is not satisfied, reminding them that in

JUDGE NOT ONE ANOTHER. 243
matters above the reach of human understanding, this must
needs be the case. Whereas in all that really concerns the
salvation of our souls, the doctrine of the Church is intel
ligible to the humblest hearer of the word of God ; and he
may be assured that just in proportion to his humiUty, that
doctrine is likely to be edifying and profitable to his soul.
And now, my beloved brethren, let me conclude vrith an
earnest and affectionate exhortation, that you will honour
this work of love and true piety, in those who have enlarged
the borders of your sanctuary, and freely furnished the
means of grace to many hundreds who were heretofore ex
cluded ; honour it not only by thanks and praise, but let it
raise a correspondent feeling of piety and love in your own
minds. May you resort to it, as the house of prayer, not
less than of hearing the word of God. And when hstening
to the word, may you ever bear in mind the precept of our
Lord, ' Take heed how ye hear,' remembering that the good
and honest heart is that ' which having heard the word,
keqis it, and brings forth fruit with patience.'
When such an one enters the house dedicated to God's
serrice, it is not to gratify himself by hearing some new
thing, or by hstening even to man's eloquence, but to repent
of his sins, and to pray for the aid of the Holy Spirit in
amending his life, and to meditate on his Redeemer's love.
AU the thoughts, and hopes, and resolutions which occupied
his mind when he last performed his devotions in it, wUl to
such a mind habituaUy return, and the mere sight of the
table of the Lord will dispose him to serious recoUection and
to earnest prayer.
And when he leaves that house, he wUl carry into the
bosom of his famUy, and among his friends, the best eri
dence that he is not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the
word, studying to make his daUy life and conversation
agreeable to the doctrines he has heard, by restrg,iiiing his
R 2

244 JUDGE NOT ONE ANOTHER.
tongue from evil, and his heart from malice ; by kindness
and brotherly love to his neighbours, and by encouraging
them to seek for happiness by the same means which have
brought peace, and comfort, and heavenly joy to his own
soul. Now to the Sariour of all that trust in Him, vrith the
Father and the Holy Spirit, be all honour, and glory, and
praise, and thanksgiving, in all churches of the saints, world
without end.

SERMON X.
THE LORD'S LONG-SUFFERING.

2 Peter iii. 9.
' The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count
slackness ; but is long-suffering to us-ward, not willing that any should
perish, but that all should come to repentance.'

TT was undoubtedly a common persuasion among the early
Christians, that the second coming of our Lord was then
near at hand ; and nothing was more usual than to apply
the term latter days, last days, to their own time. This per
suasion is never either positively confirmed or positively con
troverted by the inspired writers. They seem to have borne in
mind the final declaration of our Lord, ' It is not for you to
know the times or the seasons, which the Father hath put in
his own power.' (Acts i. 7.) And they are content to guard
the Church from falling into the practical errors most Ukely
to arise out of the opinion, namely, an impatience for the
final consummation of the gospel promises ; an error very
similar to that which possessed the minds of the disciples
during the ministry of our Lord. They were continuaUy
intent upon the manifestation of Himself as the Messiah.
They longed to see the signs from heaven, and the display of
supernatural power, and the glories of his kingdom upon
earth ; but as often as they betrayed this feeling, and pre
sumed to urge Him upon the subject, or to provoke Him to
an exercise of his great office in destroying his enemies, He
always rebuked their impatience, and refused to gratify
their curiosity.

246 THE lord's LONG-SUFFERING.
Precisely in the same spirit did many of the early converts
to Christianity express a longing expectation for the visible
glories of the Lord's second appearance. The mistake
seems to have been carried so far among the Thessalonians,
that many of them imagined that those who died before his
second coming, might lose the benefit of it, or at least that
those who should then be alive upon the earth would have
some advantage over them. This error St. Paul corrects in
his first epistle to that Church, and he cautions them against
entertaining an anxious looking out for the day of the Lord,
exhorting them only to be in a constant state of watchful
ness as to the condition of their own souls, that they might
never be taken unawares. The day itself he does not pre
tend to know, any more than they. It ' so cometh,' he says,
' as a thief in the night.' (1 Thess. v. 2.) This is a point
which I am not commissioned to inform you of. It is not
requisite to your spiritual welfare. On the contrary, its very
uncertainty is a means of promoting that welfare, for it
ought to lead you always to watch and pray, to look to your
own ways carefully, and to maintain a closer communion with
the Holy Spirit, when you know not but that the hour of
danger is already at hand. Such is the tenor of St. Paul's
exhortation to them upon this part of the subject ; but as to
the notion that it will make any difference to them whether
they die before the second coming of the Lord or not, he
speaks with the most absolute certainty, and puts down the
erroneous opinion vrith authority. 'For this we say unto
you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive, shall
not prevent' (i.e. have precedence of) 'them which are
asleep. The dead,' indeed, 'in Christ shall rise first;* then
we which are alive shall be caught up together with them
to meet the Lord.' (1 Thess. iv. 15, &c.)
We learn, indeed, from the Second Epistle to Timothy,
* npSiTov, not Trparoi.

THE lord's LONG-SUFFERING. 247
tliat two disciples there named, Hymeneus and Philetus, had
taught a dangerous heresy, founded upon this false expecta
tion, namely, that the Resurrection was already past ; and,
instead of regarding our Lord's Resurrection as, what it
really is, ' the firstfruits of them that slept,' they had con
verted it into an ai^ument against a future state, and teach
ing men probably to expect a temporal kingdom of Christ
over the saints upon earth.
All speculations of this kind the Apostle adrises Timothy
to reject as vain and mischievous : ' Their word will eat,'
he says, ' as doth a canker ; ' that is, it tends to lead men
further and further away from the truth, and to diffuse its
poisonous infiuence through the Church. If once we quit
the plain path of Revelation, and indulge in fancies and
theories of our own, the corruption soon spreads, the sim
phcity of the Gospel is destroyed, and the souls of men are
wantonly hazarded to gratify the vanity of some ambitious
or bold interpreter.
It is remarkable that St. Peter also, when touching upon
the error before noticed, riz. the impatience of believers,
saying, 'Where is the promise of his coming?' and when
bidding them not to be perplexed or disheartened by the
long delay, uses the same Ulustration to denote the secrecy
and suddenness of our Lord's second coming : ' The day of
the Lord will come,' he also affirms, ' as a thief in the night.'
There will be no token, no warning, no indulgence to those
who have neglected to make due prorision for it. And after
a glowing description of the terrors of this day of risitation,
he too, like St. Paul, winds up the prophecy with the same
grand practical lesson : ' Seeing then that all these things
shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in
all holy conversation and godliness ?' (2 Peter iii. 11.)
The harmony which is observable in the doctrine of these
two Apostles on this interesting point, is also conspicuous
throughout the whole body of the sacred writings. Nothing

248 THE lord's long-suffering.
is revealed to gratify curiosity merely ; nothing even to con
vey the knowledge of natural things, or to improve our social
condition, which we have the means of acquiring by the
exercise of our own reason ; nothing, in short, but what has a
tendency, more or less direct, to establish our faith, to regu
late our lives, to comfort and purify our hearts, and to
promote our salvation.
Thus our Saviour refuses to determine a disputed point of
legal right submitted to Him : ' Man, who made me a judge,
or a divider over you ?' Thus He puts off the fond inquiry,
'Lord, are there few that be saved ?' with the startling ad
monition, 'Strive to enter in at the strait gait;' that is, be
not busy and inquisitive about the fate of others ; seek not
to know whether there be few or many that enter into life,
but come to the consideration of that awful question with a
deep sense of your own duty and your ovra danger. Make
that the great object of all your thoughts, your anxieties,
and your endeavours. It is quite enough to engage your
whole attention, and leave in the hands of God the execution
of his own counsels towards the rest of mankind.
I forbear to speak particularly now of other examples of
the same kind. But they will occur to the recollection of
every diligent reader of Scripture; and I have said enough
to impress upon your minds the valuable truth to be derived
from them all ; that the improvement of the heart, not of
the understanding; that spiritual instruction, not the
increase of natural knowledge, not the improvement of
civil society, is the peculiar object of the Bible; and that
even the knowledge of heavenly things is no further revealed
to us than as it may serve to our edification ; to the making
us fit for the enjoyment of that inheritance to which we are
called by our Redeemer.
It is, then, the part of true wisdom, not to endeavour to
penetrate into the mysteries of the invisible world (for
our present faculties are not designed for such objects, and

THE lord's long-suffering. 249
are probably incapable of comprehending them), but to draw
from every part of Revelation, as well as from every dispen
sation of Proridence, some lesson of profit to ourselves ;
something that shall direct and regulate our own lives, correct
our errors, elevate our desires, increase our faith, enliven our
devotion, mend our hearts and affections, and guard us
against temptations.
Is the performance of some divine promise, for instance, un
expectedly delayed, far beyond the term our eager hopes had
assigned to it ? Consider, as St. Peter here bids us do, the im
measurable distance between the Divine nature and the
human ; between the transient interests of this fleeting life
and the purposes of eternity, and you will at once see the
foUy of calling that slowness in God's dispensations, which
merely exceeds the measure of time usually employed for
carrying into execution some work of human contrivance.
Cast your eyes upon the fabric of the world around you ;
upon the boundless ocean, upon the everlasting mountains,
and the broad surface of the cultivated earth. Do they
resemble in any of their characters the productions of
human skUl or wisdom? Look to the glorious host of
heaven, the same now as at the moment of their creation,
vrithout decay or the shadow of change, and then ask your
own reason, whether the Maker of these stupendous works
can be expected to carry on his operations in measures of
time at all corresponding with the hopes and fears, and
short-sighted views of his creatures. ' Man cometh up, and
is cut down like a flower.' Generations pass away in rapid
succession, which, to the eye of the Creator and Governor of
all things, ' who inhabiteth eternity,' and embraces at one
view the past, the present, and the future, are but as the
shadows of a summer's cloud to our apprehension, when they
pass rapidly over the scene that is spread before us.
Vain, therefore, is it to reason about God's proceedings,
:and the probable advancement of his dispensations from

250 THE lord's long-suffering.
anything connected vrith our own experience. If a powerful
man, or a neighbour, defers the fulfilment of a promise, we
naturally enough compare the time of his delay vrith the
probable duration of his life, and complain vrith reason, if he
permits years to pass away, when the period of his life is
short, and fast expiring. But vrith God this mode of reason
ing can have no place. A moment's reflection is sufficient to
remind us that his promises are made and are performed in
eternity. We can no more judge of the proper time for
their execution, than we can pretend to regulate the course
of nature in the universe. Let us then keep to our proper
prorince, and remember the words of the patriarch Job, when
perplexed with such speculations. ' God understandeth the
way thereof, and he knoweth the place thereof (of vrisdom).
' For he looketh to the ends of the earth, and seeth under the
whole heaven. And unto man he said. Behold, the fear of
the Lord, that is wisdom ; and to depart from eril is under
standing.' (Job xxviii. 23, 24, 28.)
But the admonition of St. Peter is carried yet further.
He not only checks the presumption of those who talk of
the slowness of God's counsels, intruding into those ' things
which they have not seen,' and never can look into, but he
convicts them of folly also in missing that which they might
have seen, and which is full of edifying instruction to us all.
Although we know not what is slow or otherwise in God's
dealings, as they affect the whole race of mankind, yet we
are well able to see, and it is our duty to see and understand
this slowness as it relates indiridually to ourselves. There is
a lesson contained in it, which the simplest may read, and
which the wisest ought to profit by. This apparent slowness
of God is in reality long-suffering to us-ward.
It should be regarded as a continual warning not to put
off the day of repentance and amendment of life — not to
slight the overtures of dirine mercy; not to provoke the
Lord by obstinate disobedience, and rejection of his word;

THE lord's long-suffering. 251
and it should operate as a call upon our love, not less than
an awful appeal to our fears. Is the just judgment of God
suspended ? Oh, let the mercy of the Judge not be thrown
away upon us; let it incline us stiU more humbly and
earnestly to implore his favour, and to render ourselves
deserring of his goodness. Do we complain of the short
time we have to live ? The shorter the term of our natural
life, the more kind and merciful is this forbearance ; and if
that forbearance be slighted, who can deny that the guilt of
the offender is deepened, and a greater load of punishment
wUfuUy laid up for himself, and by himself, against the day
of judgment ?
After this manner, too, St. Paul reasons in. his Epistle to
the Romans (chap. ii.). The judgment of God, sooner or
later, we are sure, is according to truth against sinners. It
is impossible that God, however He may overlook them now,
should make no difference ultimately between the righteous
and the vricked. ' Despisest thou,' he says, in a strain of
holy indignation to the hardened sinner, ' Despisest ,thou
the riches of his goodness and forbearance and long-suffer
ing ; not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to
repentance ? But, after thy hardness and impenitent heart,
treasurest up unto thyself wrath against the day of wrath,
and revelation of the righteous judgment of God.' (Rom.
ii. 4, 5.)
Nothing can be more just and forcible than the conclusion
here drawn. If there be any difference between right and
wrong — if God be just, a time must come when a full retri
bution shall be made. Again, if God has made known to us
his wUl by his Son, who hath reconciled us to Him, and
hath given us the Holy Spirit to make us acceptable and fit
for his presence; although the visible glories of Christ's
kingdom are not yet revealed, and generation after generation
of men drop into the grave, before the dispensation is

252 THE lord's long-suffering.
finally closed; surely every sincere believer vrill guard
against the sin of indifference and forgetfulness in return for
the forbearance and long-suffering of God.
The vengeance of God in each case will be proportionate
to the obstinacy and ingratitude of the sinner. The more
that has been done for him vrithout producing its due effect,
the hearier vrill the sentence be in the day of risitation.
But it is not so much the spirit of vengeance which
breathes in this passage, as the spirit of compassion and
mercy. For what says the text ?
' God is long-suffering to us-ward, not willing that any
should perish, but that all should come to repentance.' It is
not vrith a view to heighten the punishment of the rebeUious,
but to lessen their number ; to enlarge the fold of Christ ;
to bring over more and more of the thoughtless sons of men
to the way of salvation, that He puts off the execution of
his purpose, and permits no man to know whether a single
day or a thousand years shall elapse before it is ac
comphshed. Thus, too, it was in the older dispensation. Often were
prophets commissioned to declare to the people of Israel and
Judah that the patience of the Almighty was well nigh ex
hausted ; that He vrill be no longer trifled with ; that He
vriU cast them off for ever. But an interval of penitence and
amendment succeeds, and the dirine vengeance is suspended ;
the accents of love and mercy are again heard ; the Israelites
are affectionately invited to consult their own interests — to
take the benefit of the time allowed them before it be too
late — to come in and accept the gracious offer of pardon
which is now before them, and which may never again be
placed within their reach.
And in the same moving strain does God now speak to us
Christians by the word of his Apostles. ' Save yourselves
from this untoward generation.' ' To-day, whUe it is called

THE lord's long-suffering. 253
to-day, harden not your hearts, but turn to the Lord, for he
is merciful, and to your God, for he will abundantly
pardon.' To a pious and considerate Christian, hardly a week or
even a day can pass vrithout affording some ground of
thankfulness for the continuance of his life, and some speak
ing lesson in what befalls either himself or those around him,
of the proper use to be made of this protracted trial. Has
he met vrith any serious accident, or with any narrow escape ?
The first thought that should engage his mind is, was I in a
state fit to appear before the judgment-seat of Christ ? Had
I sincerely repented of my sins, and was I living in a sense
of God's all-seeing providence, of his hatred of sin, and of
the certain judgment which awaits it ? Was I then reaUy or
only nominally a disciple of his blessed Son ? Was there any
corrupt purpose in my heart, any impure thought, any design
of doing wrong to another, or any malicious or uncharitable
feeling towards him ?
Or if no deliberate purpose of this kind was in my heart,
no anger or ill-wUl towards a neighbour, no undutiful feeling
towards a parent, a child, or a friend, yet, had I done all in
my power to compensate for any wrong or any unkindness,
which I had before done ? Was there no quarrel or offence
for which I had not yet made due atonement ; no service or
acts of love and duty done to me which I had not sufficiently
acknowledged or requited ? These are among the thoughts
which naturally first occupy the mind of a man who has re
ceived an unexpected summons to leave this world ; and he
longs for a respite to be granted him, that he may prove the
sincerity of his resolutions ; that he may discharge his debts,
and requite the favours he has received, and give proofs of
his charity and his forgiveness.
Now these feelings which nature teaches us under such
circumstances to indulge towards our feUow-creatures, every
page of Scripture warns us to cherish towards God, and to

254 THE lord's long-suffering.
rerive within us, as often as they grow dull and inactive, by
all the expedients which the course of human Ufe throws in
our way.
The close of the old year and the commencement of a
new one ; the entering upon some new hue of duty or em
ployment ; the recurrence of a sacred season, authorised and
appointed by the Church ; the public worship on the Lord's
day, and other stated days ; a baptism or a funeral in our
family; nay, the weekly duties of every Lord's day, and
more especially the commemoration of our Redeemer's death
and passion in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, — aU these
are occasions when we may vrith the best effect turn to a re
view of our daily mode of life, to an examination of our
thoughts, and words, and deeds, since the period of our last
solemn humiliation before the throne of Grace. And if (as
must in a greater or less degree be the case with us aU) we
find that sin is stiU an inmate of the flesh, that the wiles of
Satan have seduced us, and the infirmities of a corrupt
nature have often prevaUed, and have often dimmed the
heavenly Ught of the Gospel vrithin us, let us, with grateful
and fervent hearts, thank God that we were not cut off in the
midst of our sins. Let us acknowledge the riches of his
goodness in having so long spared us; and let this forbear
ance be a conrincing proof that He is stUl calhng us to Him ;
that we have still an interest in Him; that He wUleth not that
any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.
On the other important truths contained in this memorable
passage of St. Peter, I will not now enlarge ; but it is one of
the plainest declarations to be found in Scripture of the uni
versal redemption effected by our Saviour's death, and of the
gracious purpose to extend its benefits to all mankind who
are vrilling to receive it. The vrill of God is that all should
come to repentance. There is no confinement of it, as was
once ignorantly supposed, even by Peter himself, to the race
of Israel ; no personal restriction to a select few, as being

THE lord's long-suffering. 255
alone the objects of the Redeemer's love; no forbidding
sentence against any of the sons of men, except those who
prefer the service of sin to that of God, who turn a deaf ear
to his promises, or who ' despise his long-suffering ' and for
bearance, and tm-n it, vrickedly and ungratefully turn it, not
into an argument for repentance, but for continuance in sin,
or at least for a neglect of rehgious duties and a devotion to
the things of this world.
Let none of you, my brethren, so abuse the goodness of
God. You thank Him in your prayers for the preservation
of your hves. Let your lives bear witness that these thanks
are sincere ; that you feel the value of that life which He has
given you as the introduction to a better. Your present ex
istence wUl then be not only a source of enjoyment in itself,
but it wUl be the means of bringing you, through repentance
and faith in his Son, to the enjoyment of a life where sin
and sorrow, and sickness are unknown ; and no fearful ex
pectation vrill hang over you, as does in this world, of an end
to all its happiness ; but the joy shall be as solid and lasting
as it is now faint and transitory, and ever liable to be
snatched away from you.
To Him, then, who hath called us out of this state of dark
ness to the glorious Ught of the Gospel, with the Father and
the Holy Spirit, be aU glory, and honour, and praise, and
thanksgiving, now and for evermore.

SERMON XI.

THE MARRIAGE IN CANA.*

John ii. 11.
' This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee, and
manifested forth his glory ; and his disciples believed on him.'
f\F the efficacy of our Lord's miracles in confirming his
divine mission, hardly anything remains to be said which
is not already familiar to the minds of those who hear me.
That no one could do the miracles which He did, except God
were with him, is the declaration of common sense, when
free from prejudice and the spirit of contention ; and, accor
dingly, we find that the old ground of imputing these mighty
works to the agency of eril spirits has long been abandoned,
or, if ever assumed, is maintained only for the sake of argu
ment by those who disbelieve the agency of eril spirits as
much as they do the divine mission of our Lord. The dis
pute has been reduced, therefore, to a question of fact, and,
as a question of fact, surely no case was ever more trium
phant ; the character and circumstances of our Saviour's
miracles being such as distinguish them essentially from all

* There is something rather remarkable in the history of this Ser
mon. The main substance of it had been stated to me by a friend,
who had been struck with a sermon he had heard in which this view
was taken. I repeated this to Dr. Copleston, who was so much struck
with it that he thereupon composed the following discourse, which I
heard him preach for the first time. Prom recollection of this, I
afterwards myself wrote a sermon, which has been since published. —
Ed.

THE MARRIAGE IN CANA. 257
the impostures and delusions which have ever been exhibited
to the world under the name of miracle.
Some of these peculiarities are well deserving of our consi
deration, not as evidence merely of the fact, but as pregnant
with instruction, and as strikingly illustrative of the character
of our divine Master. He had in Himself, it is true, the
fulness of the Godhead bodily, his power and perfections
were dirine, but his virtues, also, were human rirtues ; and
from these supernatural acts of beneficence, mingled, as they
were, vrith compassionate and social feelings, and called forth
by the passing occasion, we may leam how we ought to feel
on the like occasions, and how it becomes us to employ our
natural faculties and means for the benefit of our feUow-
creatures. It is, indeed, truly remarkable that almost all the
miracles recorded of our Saviour are of a beneficent kind ;
directed towards the relief either of bodily or spiritual wants,
towards the cure of some unhappy sufferer, or to the confir
mation of faith in the minds of his hearers. Hardly any of
them can appear, even to the most careless reader, to have
been wrought for the mere display of power ; and upon an
attentive examination, they wUl all, I believe, be found to
have some other end in riew. Neither were they directed
ever to his personal ease and advantage, except where the
object of his ministry required that He should not fall a pre
mature sacrifice to the malice of his enemies. And thus do
they impart a striking lesson how power should be used, and
for what purposes it is given to men ; how the erils of life
may be made the parents of blessing ; and how they are
thrown in om- way for this very end, to excite our sympathy,
and give scope to virtuous action.
But, besides this moral and religious edification, it has been
thought by some expositors that a mystical meaning also is
contained under each of these memorable actions ; that they
are typical of some part of the gospel economy of grace ;
and that in their spiritual import they speak a language

258 THE MARRIAGE IN CANA.
inteUigible to the Church through aU ages. Such is the
opinion not merely of that visionary school of interpreters
known by the name of Hutchinsonian, who fancy they see a
symbolical character in every fact, historical and physical,
recorded in the Sacred Writings, and who imagine that the
visible world, in all its details, is emblematic of the invisible
— it is the grave judgment of one of the most ingenious and
accomplished members of our Church, the learned Jortin,
who has pursued this method of interpretation through all
the miracles recorded of our Saviour, and has endeavoured to
elicit from each some spiritual signification, regarding them
either as apt emblems of his designs, or as figures represent
ing future events, and especially the benefits to be conferred
by Him upon mankind. Thus (according to these inter
preters), his giving sight to the blind was typical of his en
lightening the world by his doctrine ; his healing the sick, of
his being the Physician of the soul ; his feeding the hungry,
of his preaching the Gospel to the poor ; his casting out eril
spirits, of the prevalence of his religion over vice and idolatry
throughout the world. After this manner he explains the
whole series ; and of the miraculous conversion of water into
wine, in particular, he observes. There arose in the Church
from ancient times heretics, who condemned wine, and the use
of animal food, and marriage, and even many of the orthodox
conceived extravagant notions of the merit of celibacy, and of
a solitary abstemious life ; Christ, therefore, he says, may be
supposed to have attended this feast, and honoured it with this
miracle, that it should stand in the Gospel as a confutation of
these foolish errors ; adding, that St. John, who records the
miracle, lived to see such false doctrines prevail.
Now, I confess that this mode of interpretation, ingenious
as it may be, and occasionaUy useful, appears to call for
great caution in its application, and to be by no means free
from serious objection. Where the plain and direct signifi
cation is enough for all reUgious purposes ; where the imme-

THE MARRIAGE IN CANA. 259
diate end answered by the miracle is adequate and worthy
of the occasion, full of, benevolence and full of instruction,
it seems to be a false, and, perhaps, a dangerous refinement,
to. seek for some hidden design, discoverable only in after ages,
and even then a matter of doubt and conjecture.
That such remarkable events in Sacred History should, in
the course of our preaching, be accommodated to moral and
religious instruction of various kind?, is very allgwable ; even
where no allegory is intended, the figurative adaptation of
them to the argument we are enforcing is often awakening
and impressive. But it is a practice which has been carried
to a ricious excess, and which, under the guidance of a warm
imagination, has a strong tendency to corrupt the simplicity
of gospel truth, to convert religion into a species of romance,
and in place of sober and sincere devotion to substitute the
reveries of enthusiasm.
The ingenious critic, whose interpretation I have just
adduced, is himself fully aware of the mischievous tendency
of the Hutchinsonian creed, and he rejects it in the strongest
terms; but in his own exposition there is a feature some
what similar, and which alone gives rise to alarm and sus
picion. I mean where he announces it as his behef that
every miracle of our Lord is allegorical ; that it is not only
capable of such interpretation, but that it requires it. This
declaration alone savours of that love of system which is the
parent of so much error and so much evil iu the world.
Accordingly, having once undertaken the inquiry upon this
principle, he is led to such forced interpretations as these, —
that our Saviour's rebuking the winds and waves was an
emblem of his spiritual victories over the mad rage of Jews
and Gentiles ; that his walking upon the sea was a prelude
of the amazing progress of his Gospel, which crossed the
wide ocean, and reached the remotest lands ; that the dark
ness at the crucifixion showed the spiritual blindness of the
Jewish people, and the earthquakes indicated the great revo-
s 2

260

THE MARRIAGE IN CANA.

lutions which were to take place in the establishment of the
Gospel. (Joktin's Ecclesiastical History, book ii. part i. pp.
270-274.) That this miracle performed at the marriage feast may
fairly be adduced in refutation of the doctrine enjoining
celibacy and austerity, I would by no means deny ; but that
such was its drift and design seems to me far from probable,
for, if ever the sanctity of marriage or the lawfulness of
temperate festivity were called in question, the presence of
our Lord on that occasion, and his participation in the feast,
would surely be a sufficient answer; nor can I persuade
myself that a rational Christian would wish for any higher
sanction. At the same time, this does seem to stand distinguished
from his other miracles, in not carrying vrith it that mani
fest air of charity, benevolence, and dignity which is cha
racteristic of them, and which mark them out so plainly to
be a divine work.
No one will pretend that the want here supplied was an
urgent claim upon his compassion or philanthropy, nor does
the immediate effect, if we look no further than the occa
sion itself, seem to correspond with the stupendous agency
employed. To the scoffer, therefore, and the unbeliever, it has afforded
matter of indecent jesting; while the christian advocate has
been embarrassed in his defence, and has sometimes injured
his cause by warmly maintaining the importance of the
action in its literal sense.
It is, then, a case which seems fairly to admit of some
attempt at typical explanation, if any such explanation can
be offered, showing at once its close connection with the
christian scheme, and the high import of those external
symbols which were adapted to the occasion.
The remarks which I have already made on the danger
and the presumption of aUegorising Scripture further than

THE MARRIAGE IN CANA. 261
is authorised by inspired persons, will, I trust, secure me
from the suspicion of being inclined to trespass in that way
myself. For the present, I wUl bespeak your attention to the
peculiar circumstances of the miracle in question. In the
first place, it is remarkable that St. John alone, of all the
Evangelists, records this fact ; and, as we shall see presently,
it seems to have an intimate connection with some points
upon which that Evangelist dwells most earnestly, and
which form a characteristic feature in his writings. It wiU
be proper, therefore, to recall to your minds the precise
circumstances of the transaction.
Within a few days after our Saviour's baptism, when He
pubUcly entered upon his ministry, and received the testi
mony of not only the Baptist but of the Holy Ghost
himself, we are told that this marriage feast was celebrated.
The particulars mentioned are few, but the narrative, if
attentively considered, leads one to believe that our Saviour
had given some intimation to his family of his design to
perfonn a notable action upon that day.
Of his mysterious character and future greatness they
were now not ignorant.
The recent attestation of the Baptist had revived the
exalted hopes of his mother, hopes long ago raised by the
salutation of angels and the clear voice of prophecy; his
chosen disciples had just been collected about Him, and in
this, which was the first numerous assemblage He had joined
after his baptism, it seems to have been confidently expected
that some signal act would announce to the world his real
office and destiny.
The command given by his mother to the servants, as well
as her own impatience in addressing Him, as the day ad
vanced, and the feast was now drawing to a close, are strong
proofs of this expectation. The answer, too, of our Lord to
the words of his mother is hardly tp be understood on any

262 THE MARRIAGE IN CANA.
other supposition than that she accosted Him with a riew
to prompt Him to execute what had been announced, and to
put an end to their suspense.
The import of that answer is perfectly in unison vrith the
whole of his conduct whenever his Dirine ministry was
concerned. Thus, in his twelfth year, when liring in subjection to his
parents. He asked them, ' How is it that ye sought me ?
vrist ye not that I must be about my Father's business ? '
Again, when, during the act of preaching, there were some
that told Him that his mother and his brethren were vrithout
desiring to speak with Him, He rebuked the interruption by
obserring, ' Who is my mother ? and who are my brethren ?
Whosoever shall do the vrill of my Father which is in
heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother.'
(Matt. xii. 48, 50.) And in the same authoritative tone
He now observes, ' Leave my official conduct entirely to
myself; I know best my sacred duty, and I vrill perform it
at the right time.'
The act itself, therefore, when performed, we might natu
rally expect would bear some essential relation to that mi
nistry He was about to undertake ; and yet, though truly
descriptive, that it would be at the same time obscure and
emblematical only. For a Messiah, whose blood was to be
shed for the sins of men, his disciples were by no means
as yet prepared to receive. And what more expressive
symbol could be devised? What act more decisive of divine
power, at the moment, and bearing in it at the same time
the seeds of future instruction and consolation, than the
miraculous creation of that element which He had designed
to make the emblem, through all ages, of his sacrifice upon
the cross ?
Again, the same narrative informs us that the water thus
converted by his word had been provided according to the
Jewish customs for the purpose of purification. Water, we

THE MARRIAGE IN CANA. 263
know, was habitually used by them in baptism as an initiatoiy
rite, as it is still continued in the christian Church by our
Lord's command; but the Jews' was for the purpose of
cleansing themselves from the supposed impurities contracted
in the ordinary course of life; impurities, some of which,
according to their law, and more, according to their traditions,
rendered them unclean in the sight of God. Such was the
proper destination of that water here miraculously changed.
And does not this change correspond with the whole analogy
between the Law and the Gospel ? Was it not a conversion
of the shadow into its substance — of the type into its anti
type—of the imperfect preparatory rite into that prevaUing
oblation, or rather, I should say, the chosen representative of
that prevailing oblation, in which all the purifications and
atonements of the Mosaic ritual were to be swallowed up ?
' In that day,' says the prophet Zechariah, when shadowing
out the mighty deliverance, 'in that day there shall be a
fountain opened to the house of Darid and to the inhabi
tants of Jerusalem for sin and for uncleanness.' (Zech.
xiii. 1.) 'In that day living waters shall go out from
Jerusalem; half of them toward the former sea, and
half of them toward the hinder sea  And
the Lord shall be king over aU the earth: in that day
shall there be one Lord, and his name one.' (Zech. xiv. 8, 9.)
And what says the beloved disciple, to whom we are indebted
for the preservation of this remarkable transaction ? — ' If we
walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have feUowship
one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son
cleanseth us from all sin.' (1 John i. 7.)
There is, it has often been observed, a striking congruity
in the style of the Gospel of St. John with that of the
epistles which bear his name, a congruity which would lead
any indifferent reader, independently of the external evidence
of the fact, to pronounce them all to be the work of the
same author. Not only the general ^complexion is similar,

264 THE MARRIAGE IN CANA.
but there is a remarkable coincidence of phraseology, and
the topics which the wiiter insists upon most earnestly, and
which eridently have made the deepest impression on his
own mind, are the same in each.
Thus, in the account of the crucifixion, St. John alone
observes, that when our Saviour's side was pierced, ' forth
with came thereout blood and water.' This phenomenon
has usuaUy been represented as important only because it
was a certain proof of death ; but the vehement asseveration
which follows — 'And he that saw it bare record, and his
record is true ; and he knoweth that he saith true, that ye
might believe' — seems to point at some truth more significant
and mysterious than the simple fact of death, which had
already been stated in the plain language of the narrative.
Neither do I believe that in that age the anatomical fact,
which is supposed to be here alleged, would have been at all
received as a convincing and popular eridence of death ; even
in the present age how few are there who know the fact,
or would draw such an inference from it ! The argument
supposes that the Evangelist regarded this as a natural and
well-known phenomenon, sufficient to convince a mind un
satisfied with other proofs. But I would appeal to any
candid reader of the whole passage, whether it be not evi
dently recorded by the writer as a phenomenon in his
judgment preternatural, as one singular and wonderful,
characteristic of the stupendous event he is describing.
And, again, if we turn to the epistle of the same writer,
we find the same two substances announced in terms of no
ordinary solemnity, and inculcated with an earnestness
equally remarkable : ' This is he that came by water and
blood, even Jesus Christ ; not by water only, but by water
and blood. And it is the Spirit that beareth witness, because
the Spirit is truth.' (1 John v. 6.)
That this Epistle, as well as the Gospel itself, was written
to correct heretical opinions then prevalent concerning the

THE MARRIAGE IN CANA. 265
person of Christ, and to establish the sound doctrine of his
real humanity, as well as of his real divinity, is generally
admitted. But, from these passages which I have quoted, and
from others of a kindi-ed character, it seems evident that
St. John was strongly impressed with the mystical character
of those elements which our Lord chose to be the perpetual
sacraments of his Church; water, as the token of regene
ration, and wine, as the emblem of his atoning blood.
These, says he, together with the witness of the Holy Spirit,
given visibly and miraculously in his age, and still continued
to us in that inspired volume which is our guide unto salva
tion, — these three are his standing witnesses upon earth,
and ever wUl be witnesses to Him in the Church until his
second coming.
At the commencement, then, of our Lord's ministry, these
vritnesses bare record, as far at least as the nature of that
ministry would allow them to do in so early a stage. The
water at his baptism, the manifestation of the Holy Ghost,
with the voice from heaven, and the miraculous exhibition
of that appointed symbol of his blood, were all included
within the few days before his first journey to Jerusalem.
The close of" his ministry was distinguished by the same
testimony, the effusion of water and of blood from his body,
and the visible communication of the Holy Ghost to his
infant Church.
It is, I know, usually alleged in explanation of the
phrase three witnesses, that our Lord was proved to be the
Son of God by his baptism and by his death, and that the
witness of the Spirit accompanied both these events. But it
is certainly remarkable, and it tends to support the inter
pretation of the miracle above given, that the same writer,
who in his epistle uses the phrase three witnesses, and who
dwells upon it as pregnant with mysterious truth, should
be the only one of the Evangelists also who records in his
Gospel the things which I have regarded as typical upon

266 THE MARRIAGE IN CANA.
each occasion. Shortly after the actual administration of
the rite of baptism the symbol of his blood was exhibited,
and when that blood was actually shed, the symbol of the
other sacrament accompanied the effusion.
There is another very remarkable point which seems strongly
to favour this intei-pretation. St. John's Gospel is well
known to have been written as supplementary to the three
other Gospels, and to have appeared at a much later period;
and his chief object in writing it (as well as in writing
that first epistle, which is a kind of commentary upon his
Gospel), is acknowledged to be the assertion of that funda
mental article of our faith which was then denied by many
heretics, the atonement made for the sins of men by the
sacrifice of an incarnate God. It is worthy of particular
attention, therefore, as well in what it omits, as in what
it contains peculiar to itself. Now it omits altogether the
institution of the two sacraments, which are both so ex
plicitly recorded by the other Evangelists. They were rites
by that time universally received and established in the
Church; their history was weU known, and their authority
was not questioned. But their high and sacred nature it
is probable was by many not rightly understcfod, and those
facts, therefore, in our Lord's Hfe which have an intimate
connection with that awful mysteiy, St. John most carefuUy
preserved. These he has described with an energy and
fervour proportionate to their high importance in the scheme
of redemption, while his own concluding words imply that
he had omitted to speak of many other miracles, because
he would confine himself chiefly to those which established
the main doctrine : ' And many other signs (or miracles)
truly did Jesus in the presence of his disciples, which are
not written in this book : but these are wi-itten, that ye
might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God;
and that believing ye might have life through his name.'
(John XX. 30, 31.)

THE MARRIAGE IN CANA. 267
Upon the whole, then, is it not reasonable to conclude,
that the miracle which he alone has rescued from oblirion,
which stands foremost in his narrative, which he has related
in circumstantial detaU, which he adverts to more than
once in the sequel of his Gospel (John iv. 46-54), which
yet, taken by itself, is destitute of that striking character of
mercy and goodness so conspicuous in the rest, and which,
in its literal signification, expresses little more than an
exertion of supernatural power, — is it not, I say, reasonable
to conclude that the Evangelist saw in it a sublime appli
cation ? And that at this marriage feast of Cana, there
stood a bridegroom among them whom they thought not
of, and who by this sUent act of power signified the mystical
union then just commencing, and shortly to be accomplished,
between Himself and the Church He was about to purchase
with his blood ?
To Him, the Lamb of God, who, baring finished his work
of redemption, now reigneth with the Father and the
Holy Ghost, to Him be glory, and thanksgiving, and
blessing, and honour, and praise, in the Church, for ever
and ever.

SERMON XII.
CURIOSITY DISCOURAGED.

John xxi. 22.
'Jesus saith unto him. If I will that he tarry till I come, what is
that to thee 1 follow thou me.'

T^HE particulars of an interriew which our Sariour vouch
safed some of his disciples, by the Sea of Tiberias,
after He rose from the dead, are related in St. John's Gospel
only. It was his third appearance to them after his resur
rection, and it is remarkable upon many accounts. One of
its principal objects seems to have been to prove the sincerity
of Peter's attachment to his Master, whom he had deserted
and denied during the last moments of his sufferings upon
earth. Our Saviour, with evident allusion to the wavering
conduct he then displayed (and with no design of delegating
a paramount authority to this Apostle, as the Papists vainly
pretend), questions him concerning the sincerity of his
faith and love ; and that in such an earnest and peremptory
manner, as to draw from him expressions of uneasiness at
the suspicions he had caused. ' Peter was grieved because
he said unto him the third time, Lovest thou me ? And he
said unto him. Lord, thou knowest all things ; thou knowest
that I love thee. Jesus saith unto him. Feed my sheep.'*
He had not, however, long restored himself to the con
fidence of om* Lord, by the fei-vour and simplicity of this

* See Lectures on the Apostles, L. ii. iii. iv.

CURIOSITY DISCOURAGED. 269
declaration, before the natural impetuosity of his temper be
trays him into another indiscretion, for which he is instantly
though mildly reproved. Not content with meditating upon
the holy office to which he had just been called, and on the
part which it had just been revealed to him he was himself
to act hereafter in the christian Church, he inquires also
what shall be the lot of his fellow-disciple, the Evangelist
St. John, who seems to have been a silent spectator of this
affecting scene. ' Lord, and what shall this man do ?'
However innocent a question of this sort may seem to us
to be, yet the instant check which is given by our Lord to
Peter's curiosity, deserves to be attentively considered, and
is itself a proof of the displeasure with which that question
was received. To us it is an undeniable proof, for although
some of the disciples understood this saying as a prophecy
concerning St. John, that he should never die, yet St. John
himself by no means favours that construction ; and we, who
have lived after him, have no other way of accounting for it,
than by interpreting it as a reproof of vain and unprofitable
curiosity in heavenly things.
Is it, then, it may be asked, meant to forbid all those
rational inquiries into the ways of Providence, which form
the speculations of many good and pious men ? Is it meant
to condemn that affectionate interest we naturally feel in
the fortunes of those around us, their future welfare in this
world and their final destiny in another ? Are we to be
reduced to a state of cold and selfish indifference, each bent
upon his own happiness, vrithout bestowing a thought upon
his neighbour? And are we not to extend our concern
to our fellow-creatures, without incurring the imputation of
sin and of disregard for the voice of Scripture ?
Before we attempt an answer to such inquiries, let us be
careful to mark the precise occasion of this refusal to satisfy
Peter's question. He had just been invested with a solemn
and awful charge, one which might afford matter for aU his

270 CURIOSITY DISCOURAGED.
thoughts and anxieties, and the concluding injuiiction of our
blessed Lord, ' FoUow thou me,' seems to indicate that his
meaning was not merely to correct the presumption of in
quiring into the hidden things of God, but to confirm his
former solemn injunction, and to imply that such a curiosify
commonly proceeds from insufficient attention to our own
duties, and to the state of our own souls.
The nature of the duty, indeed, which had been committed
to Peter, and which is the original authority for all succeed
ing commissions of the same kind, is a plain proof that we
are not aUowed to be careless of the salvation of others. Its
very essence and sole business consisted in watching over
the spiritual welfare of his brethren, in keeping them from
wandering, in supplying them with wholesome advice and
consolation, and in bringing them on steadUy and carefully
in the only way that leads to heaven. He was to b,e a
guardian and a shepherd of that flock for, whose sake Christ
had recently laid down his life. And if his love was really
more ardent and devoted than that of the other disciples,
as we may fairly conclude it was by the general tenor of his
conduct, and by the bitter repentance which followed one
act of falsehood and denial, his Lord bids him now prove
that love — not by vehemence and boldness, as he had often
done before during his personal presence with them, but in
the only way which would be open to him after that presence
should be withdrawn, by affectionate care of aU those who
might be brought to believe in his name.
As some extenuation, however, and excuse for the fault
which is here reproved, you will bear in mind that the full
purpose of our Lord's intercourse with^his Apostles was not
yet accomplished. The visible economy of the Gospel was
not yet closed. The forty days were not expired during
which He vouchsafed to them frequent preternatural ap
pearances, and conversed with them of the things pertaining
to the kingdom of GQd. In the nature of that kingdom,

CURIOSITY DISCOURAGED. 271
then, at this third appearance of our Lord after his resurrec
tion, they were not yet perfectly instructed, and they still
continued to cherish the fond national hopes of temporal
deliverance and earthly prosperity, which were among the
last errors that were banished from their minds.
Thus, in the latest interview, immediately before his ascen
sion from the Mount of Olives, they asked of Him, ' Lord,
wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel?'
The answer, though tending to correct their error, still does
not satisfy their curiosity. It teaches them to curb their
impatience, and to wait for the gradual unfolding of that
dispensation of mercy, which He had purchased for mankind.
'It is not for you,' He says, 'to know the times or the
seasons, which the Father hath put in his own power.' And
in a manner strictly according with the tenor of this reply to
Peter, He there also proceeds to admonish them of their own
duty, and of the part which it was destined for them to act,
as what ought chiefly to occupy their minds. For He goes
on to say, ' Ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem,
and in all Judsea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost
part of the earth.' (Acts i. 8.) It is remarkable, also,
in the coui'se of our Lord's early ministry, that no oppor
tunity seems to have been lost of inculcating the same lesson.
Thus, in answer to the natural inquiry made by his disciples,
' Lord, are there few that be saved ?' He bids them confine
their curiosity and inquisitive thoughts to what more im
mediately concerns themselves. ' Strive,' says He, ' to enter
in at the strait gate;' make that the chief business of
your lives. It will be more than enough for all your vigi
lance and aU your resolution. Boast not yourselves against
those that seem to be in the wrong track, much less be
weary and faint in your own minds, because of the thousands
whom you see around you careless of their danger, impatient
of advice, disobedient to authority, and following the broad
path of vice and pleasure, which leads away from lieayen.

272 CURIOSITY DISCOURAGED.
Think not that they have a better or a fairer lot than you.
Neither perplex yourselves with fruitless speculations as to
the ultimate purpose of God's providence, nor as to the count
less multitudes of those beings who seem, as it were, bom
for destruction ; — all such scruples and perplexities come of
evil. They cannot in the slightest degree benefit either
yourselves, or those about whose fate you are solicitous ; but,
on the contrary, they may interfere materially with your own
salvation. Be thankful, then, that you are taught the good
and the right way. Keep yourselves steadUy and constantly
in that way, and trust to the wisdom and goodness of your
heavenly Father, that He will, in his own good time, bring
forward all to the kingdom of his Son, whom He shall think
deserving of so high a pririlege.
Such is the free commentary I would pass upon the
authoritative answer of our Lord to that question of his dis
ciples ; and I would deduce some important cautions apph-
cable to errors at all times prevalent in the Church, and
some of which seem to be revived vrith pecuhar force in the
present day.
It has been already observed that no better occasion could
be chosen for checking curiosity on these subjects, than the
very discourse which our Lord had just held vrith Peter, the
main object of which was to excite his active love, and care,
and sympathy for all who could be persuaded to become
Christ's disciples. When, therefore, in the same discourse
he is checked in the indulgence of a desire to penetrate
futurity, we may be sure it was not designed to breed a
heartless indifference to others, or an exclusive and selfish
anxiety for our own welfare. After this instructive lesson,
we may safely conclude that it is perfectly consistent with
the utmost zeal for the cause of the Gospel, to confess our
entire ignorance of the future destinies of our feUow-
creatures, and to avoid all sui'mises or speculations on this
subject.

CURIOSITY DISCOURAGED. 273
And yet, how many pious Christians of the present day
suffer their thoughts to wander over this dark and forbidden
ground ! How many are there who permit their minds to be
disturbed by a consideration of the small portion of the
human race to whom the Gospel has hitherto been made
known — of the millions who drop into the grave from age
to age, vrithout baring heard the word of salvation, or even
the name of their Saviour 1
To others, again, it affords matter of perplexity and
wonder that so many, even in a christian country, should
stop their ears against the word of life, or should despise
the inritation, or disbelieve the word, or corrupt the doc
trine; that so many should live as if the Gospel made not
the slightest impression upon their minds, even when they
are continually hearing it ; and that the progress of Christi
anity should still be so slow, and feeble, and unsuccessful
throughout the heathen world.
Now, the first answer that we might make to all such
difficulties is, that everything here complained of is just
what we might have expected, since it corresponds in cha
racter both with the commencement of the gospel dispensa
tion, and with the earlier revelations of God to mankind.
In the patriarchal times, true religion was as a faint light
shining in a dark place. Among the Jews, it was often
well nigh extinguished by the vices, the idolatries, and the
gross carnal affections of that people. And even when our
blessed Sariour, vrith the powers of heaven at his command,
came to fulfil his Father's vrill, how slowly, and laboriously,
and painfully did He establish that infant Church, which,
beginning at Jerusalem, has now been for near 2000 years
striring to extend its limits, and struggling often even to
maintain its existence against spiritual as well as worldly
enemies. Reflections such as these ought to dissipate at once the
uneasy thoughts which often are apt to spring up in the

274 CURIOSITY DISCOURAGED.
mind from the objections to which I have alluded. They
are objections which belong to the nature and history of all
true religion, and to all that we know concerning God's
dealings with mankind from the beginning of time. Why
the remedy is thus partial and gradual, and in a thousand
cases apparently ineffectual, we can no more explain than we
can why the evil thus remedied should ever have been intro
duced at all. But we may learn from this consideration not
to be impatient at the present imperfect condition of the
christian Church ; not to doubt the superintendence of the
Holy Spirit, because his dirine influence is often successfully
resisted and counteracted by the wickedness of men ; not to
doubt the truth of God's promises or the wisdom of his
measures, because we cannot account for what we see, or
reconcile it with our notions of almighty power and unbounded
goodness. For, be it remembered, that, in the midst of aU this appa
rent confusion and uncertainty, nothing can be clearer or
more certain than our own duty. 'Follow thou me' is a
precept still sounding in our ears, a precept as applicable to
us as to the Apostle to whom it was delivered by his dirine
Master ; and it is a full and sufficient answer to all the rea
sonings which the vrit of man has ever devised to perplex and
mislead the simple and unstable members of Christ's Church,
to shake their faith.
But it is not only by unprofitable speculations on the
actual state of religion among men that the faith of weak
brethren is liable to be distm'bed; there is often an eager
desire manifested, even among the most zealous and learned
persons, to anticipate the designs of Providence- — to read the
fate of empires before the time — ^to interpret passing events
as the fulfilment of some scheme of prophecy of which then
imagination is full — and to kindle hopes and expectations of
some visible manifestation of God's interference, beyond what
the ordinary course of human affairs exhibits.

CURIOSITY DISCOURAGED. 275
Many are the fenciful schemes of interpretation which rise
and faU m every age. A few years pass by, and the event
no longer answers to the prophecy. Another explanation is
offered; and this, also, soon follows the fate of the rest.
LUce figures traced on the sand by the sea-shore, the tide of
human affans washes them out, and prepares the surface for
another set of interpretations, equally short-lived vrith the
former. That the fortunes of the christian Church have been
shadowed out in the Book of Revelation, is most certain ;
but that prophetic rision is not designed to gratify the
curiosify of each succeeding age about things to come, but
to confirm then faith by the eridence of what is past. Even
of this the fuU understanding is probably reserved for some
more advanced stage of our being, whUe enough is made
knovra to conrince us that the corraptions and abuses which
have poUuted the Church are owing to the influence stUl
exerted in the world by the enemy of our salvation; and
they should lead us heartily to pray for that "consummation
of our Lord's triumph over sin and Satan, which wUl one day
close the mysterious dispensation of the Gospel.
In the risions of St. John, who hved not indeed to witness
the hteral second coining of our Lord, but who was permitted
to see, through the veil of aUegoiy, much that would happen
before that second coming, we trace vrith confidence some
of the most prominent circumstances of the actual history
of the Church. The vrickedness and impiety of Rome,
which is one of the powers of Antichrist, and the persecu
tions of primitive and simple Christianity by that domineering
Church, whose earthly power is indeed now broken, and, as
we may confidently hope, can never again prevail, — these are
among the most clearly-defined objects in the Book of Reve
lation. The destruction of that unholy, usurping power,
' by whose sorceries aU nations were deceived ' (Rev. xvui. 23),
is there also denounced in language and by images, the in-
T 2

276 CURIOSITY DISCOURAGED.
terpretation of which cannot be doubted by any who are free
from the influence of her strong delusions.
Whoever examines the history of former times by the
light of these prophecies vrill, indeed, find abundant matter
to confirm his faith in their inspiration ; but, on the other
hand, the events themselves, as they are unfolded to our
experience by the gradual hand of time, are so different in
outward form and character from the mystical images em
ployed to denote them, and they extend through such a long
succession of ages, as to incline any calm and unprejudiced
mind to believe that the prophecies were designedly to prove
the superintendence of proridence after the things had come
to pass. And as our Sariour said to his disciples, ' Behold,
I have told you this before it come to pass ; that when it is
come to pass ye may believe,' so, much of what is recorded
in this part of Scripture vrill never be thoroughly understood
until some time after the prophecy shall have been actually
accomplished. Of the same kind are the fond expectations certain Chris
tians have entertained of our Saviour's coming to reign vrith
the saints for a thousand years upon the earth ; of the resto
ration of the Jews once more to the land of their forefathers ;
and many other notions, which, whether true or false, have
no connection with our own duty or our own happiness, but
rather lead us astray from foUovring Christ, in the proper
meaning of that phrase, into regions of romance and ima
gination. In opposition to all such unprofitable inquiries it will be
well to bear continually in mind the great object and busi
ness of our calling in Christ Jesus, and seriously to ask our
selves. Have we so far obeyed this call as to possess leisure
for that which does not immediately concern us, nor promote
the welfare of our own souls ?
' FoUow thou me' is a precept which no one can mistake
who reads, or who listens to the preaching, of God's word.

CURIOSITY DISCOURAGED. 277
It can bewilder the thoughts of no man who is intent upon
obeying his Lord's will, rather than upon indulging his own
curiosity. He need not seek for that purpose to lift the veil
of futurity, or to study the meaning of prophecies not yet
accomphshed. The law of his God is ' nigh unto him, even
at his door.' It may be made ' a light unto his feet, and a
lantern to his paths.' Whatever be his station in life, what
ever his employment, "the example of his Sariour is set before
him as a pattern ; the help of his Sariour is always at hand,
if he humbly and heartily prays for it ; the promise of his
Sariour is ever present to cheer his drooping spirits, to ani
mate his hopes, and to sustain his resolution.
Only let him be careful not to catch at hope without
faith, not to pretend faith without obedience. Then, indeed,
may he dismiss from his mind all anxiety concerning what is
to happen in this age or in future ages of the world. Every
thing which belongs to his soul's health may be read in
characters of light throughout the Sacred Volume. 'For
the grace of God that bringeth salvation' (to use the solemn
and affecting language of St. Paul,) 'hath appeared to all
men,* teaching us, that, denying ungodliness and worldly
lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this
present world; looking for that blessed hope, and the glo
rious appearing of the great God and our Saviour' (our great
God and Sariour) 'Jesus Christ; who gave himself for us,
that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto
himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.' (Tit. ii.
11-14.) He himself is gone, as He told his disciples, among his
last words of comfort. He would go, to ' prepare a place for
them in his Father's house.' They saw the fulfilment of
this promise actually begun ; they saw Him ascend to his

* The exact rendering of the original, doubtless, is, ' The grace of
God, which bringeth salvation to all men, hath appeared.' — Bd.

278 CURIOSITY DISCOURAGED.
Father and their Father, to his God and their God. To his
first martyr, St. Stephen, He afterwards revealed Himself, in
the glory which He had from the beginning of the world;
and from that seat of glory He vrill assuredly one day come
in the sight of all men; in the sight of them that hated
Him and slew Him, as weU as of those that love his appear
ing. And then shall the humble follower of his Lord, who
vrith faith and well-doing here on earth hath patiently waited
for his coming — who hath not permitted hunger, or thirst, or
cold, or nakedness, or any earthly thing, to ' separate him
from the love of Christ' and of God — then shall he perceive
how all things have worked together for the good of his
faithful disciples, and how his very troubles have tended to
secure his happiness and to heighten his reward.
Now to the only true God, the Creator, the Redeemer, the
Sanctifier of mankind, three persons in one ever-blessed
Godhead, be all honour, and glory, and praise, and thanks
giving, now, henceforth, and for ever.

SERMON XIII.
THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH.

1 Kings xiii. 21, 22.
' And he cried unto the man of God that came from Judah, saying.
Thus saith the Lord, Forasmuch as thou hast disobeyed the mouth of
the Lord, and hast not kept the commandment which the Lord thy
God commanded thee, but camest back, and hast eaten bread and
drunk water in the place, of the which the Lord did say to thee. Eat
no bread, and drink no water ; thy carcase shall not come unto the
sepulchre of thy fathers.'

C UCH is the solemn denunciation of God's displeasure at a
direct and vrilful disobedience of his command, in a
matter which may appear to many readers to be in its own
nature tririal and unimportant. It may seem, upon a cur
sory riew of the passage, that the punishment which followed
this act of disobedience was out of all measure severe ; and
that the fraud which was practised by the man of God to
seduce his brother from his duty was so artful, that even a
faithful and zealous seivant might have been deceived, with
out doing any riolence to his ovm conscience. Other diffi
culties may arise, even in a pious and honest mind, respect
ing the nature and importance of his mission, and the.
apparent unfairness of permitting the prophet to escape
vrithout punishment, who was the author of the offence,
whUe he who was the dupe of his imposture suffered under
the immediate visitation of dirine vengeance.
With a view to remove or to lessen these difficulties, and

280 THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH.
to point out some particulars in the transaction which may
afford matter of instruction and admonition to ourselves, I
vrill first briefly lay before you a summary of the whole case
as it stands recorded in the sacred history.
Upon the death of Solomon, we are told that the people
demanded some relaxation of tribute from his son Rehoboam,
and upon his refusal, and tyrannical answer to their petition,
ten of the tribes went into open rebellion, and made Jero
boam their king — a man who had been one of Solomon's
captains, and who had been expressly ordained for this pur
pose by the hand of the prophet Ahijah, even in Solomon's
lifetime, as a punishment for the idolatries which disgraced
the latter part of that king's reign. After this separation,
the tribes of Benjamin and Judah (to whom Jerusalem be
longed) alone remained subject to the line of David.
As soon, therefore, as Jeroboam had estabhshed and
settled his new kingdom, he thought it impolitic to permit
his subjects to go up to Jerusalem to worship, imagining
that this practice would weaken their allegiance to him, and
in time draw them back to their former connection and de
pendence upon Judah. 'Whereupon he took counsel, and
made two calves of gold, and said unto them. It is too much
for you to go up to Jerusalem : behold thy gods, 0 Israel,
which brought thee up out of the land of Egypt.'*
Religion was thus made an engine of state poUcy, and
that, not in matters of discipline and ceremony merely, but
idolatry itself, the greatest of all abominations in the sight
of God; that very sin which the whole frame and constitu
tion of the law of Moses was designed to counteract, was
now openly introduced and established by the king's au-

* Bethel, ' House of God,' was a spot to which some degree of re
ligious veneration had long been attached. {Oe7i. xxviii.) And Dan
had long been a seat of irregular and idolatrous worship. (Judges
xviii.) Hence, doubtless, besides their local convenience, these spots
were fixed on for the placing of the idols. — En.

THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH. 281
thority. The fact is recorded in a few simple terms ; but in
order to form a just conception of it, we must regard it as a
great change in the whole religious system of the country,
extending through aU conditions, both of public and private
hfe. Accordingly, we find that the new idolatry was generally
followed, sanctioned as it was by the command and example
of the king. Compliance with this innovation was the only
road to favour and promotion. The people followed their
wealthy and powerful neighbours, as they accommodated
themselves to the wUl of their sovereign. Just as, it is to be
feared, many would now do, if Popery were again to be en
couraged in this kingdom, and to be patronised by the State.
Neither must we suppose that the change thus briefly
told was abrupt and sudden, or that there were not many
subtle and plausible approaches derised to prepare the
people's minds for it. They were, you may be sure, trained
to the reception of the new forms about to be introduced.
The law of Moses was not to be abrogated. The substance
of their rehgion they were persuaded was to be still the
same, or rather they were taught that the new form was the
original one, lost through lapse of time, and now to be re
stored. 'These be thy gods, 0 Israel,' said the innovator,
' which brought thee up out of the land of Egypt.' Whereas
the written word of God, if they had been careful to read
and understand it, plainly told them, that it was the grossest
departure from the true faith, the very abomination against
which the history of this nation, and the language of their
law testified most loudly.
It is almost inconceivable, how, while the law of Moses
still remained the professed religion of the people of Israel,
this monstrous corruption could ever have been engrafted
upon it ; but the heart of man is deceitful and deceivable
above all things. Look well, my brethren of the common
faith, look well to your own times, lest a simUar perversion

282 THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH.
of the truth be not favoured and encouraged amongst us,
untU by httle and Uttle it grow up to a heresy destructive
again of the true faith, destructive of all the gospel sim
plicity, for the recovery of which our forefathers laid down
their lives, and lest the sorceries of Rome again bewitch the
land, and pollute the sanctuary of the Redeemer.
After the wicked change had been established by Jero
boam, the vital principle of the law of Moses was destroyed;
and when Ahab had brought in the additional worship of
Baal, few were there throughout the land who remained
faithful to the Lord. And this first unrighteous prince
(Jeroboam), to mark the extent as well as enormity of his
crime, is, on that account, for ages after, emphatically de
nominated in Scripture, ' he that made Israel to sin.'
Thus much may serve to show the importance of the
occasion on which this act of divine judgment was per
formed. It was not long after the introduction of this system that
one of the prophets of Judah, whose name is not preserved,
received a divine commission to proceed from Jerusalem to
Bethel, where Jeroboam kept his court, and to proclaim in
the most public and solemn manner God's curse against his
impiety. His commission he executed vrith fidelity and
courage. On the day of the feast which Jeroboam had in
stituted in imitation of the great anniversary of the Jews at
Jerusalem, called the Feast of Tabernacles, while the king
was standing by the altar, and himself burning incense upon
it, he declared vrithout fear all that God had told him — that
the altar should be polluted by baring the bones of its own
priests burnt upon it. It pleased God to confirm his word
by two signs or miracles, which were immediately performed.
First, the altar was preternaturally rent at his bidding, and
the ashes poured out ; and secondly, when the king's arm,
upon attempting to seize him, was withered, the prophet
healed it, at his entreaty, in a moment of time.

THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH. 283
Then follow the particulars which are so familiar to us all,
as being related in one of the Sunday lessons of the year.
He resolutely refused the king's invitation to stay and re
fresh himself, and baring performed part of his journey
home, was on the eve of accompUshing the whole of his
mission with the most exact fidelity, when, in an evil hour,
he yielded to the infii-mity of nature, aided by deceit, and
turned back with the old prophet, to eat bread and to drink
water, that is, according to the eastern style which prevaUs
to the present day, to accept the inritation given him to the
prophet's table, contrary to the express command of God.
The first question which arises out of this review regards
the nature of the prohibition itself, so strict and peremptory
on a point apparently of so much indifference. But here
we must in the very outset protest against that presumptuous
examination of God's word, which demands a reason to be
given for all his dispensations ; which refuses to be satisfied
with the fact, that the thing is revealed, or is commanded,
and requires some explanation of the proceeding adapted to
our weak and hmited capacities.
It is easy to imagine that a command may be given by
God, merely to try the obedience of his servants ; and this
trial is so much the more conclusive and satisfactory, if the
servant had no other motive to determine his conduct than
injphcit devotion to his Lord's vrill ; if the duty, considered
in itself, appeared unreasonable or unaccountable to his own
understanding, and one which derived all its obligation from
the authority of him who imposed it. 'Who art thou, 0
man, that repUest against God? Shall the vessel say to
him that formed it. Why hast thou made me thus ?'
Examples of this species of trial are frequent in the Holy
Scriptures. It wUl be sufficient to mention that of our first
parents, in the case of the forbidden fruit ; and that equally
signal instance of the patriarch Abraham, who was com
manded to sacrifice his only son, and who, in the full assur-

284 THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH.
ance that God could not bid him do wrong, proceeded
without hesitation to perform an act, not only unaccountable,
humanly speaking, but even to the last degree dreadful.
And surely the slightest reflection upon our own weakness
and dependence as creatures of God's will, must conrince us
that in a case of positive duty the only inquiry ought to be,
'Does God command this?' not, ' Why does He command
it ?' or, ' How can He command a thing the reason of which I
do not perceive ? '
Hence, therefore, we may learn the folly and danger of
submitting the revealed will of God to our own judgments of
what is rational or probable ; rejecting some parts and ex
plaining away others (such as the doctrine of the Trinity, of
the Atonement, of the agency of eril spirits), because we
cannot reconcile them to our own notions and prepossessions,
and to those prerious opinions men have commonly formed
of the nature of God's government, and the perfection of
his attributes.
This bold and arrogant method of interpreting Scripture,
in opposition to its express language, bears a strong resem
blance to the sin of the prophet of Judah, bending the
clearest precepts to a conformity with present humours and
inclinations, even when they cannot plead, as he might, the
temptation of distress, and the pressure of -human wants, as
an excuse for their disobedience.
Many, doubtless, there are, who, like him, are drawn into
this error by the persuasions of false teachers, co-operating
vrith their own disposition, and confirming them in that
which they secretly covet and prefer. And although I would
by no means impute to such teachers any malicious design
to entrap or mislead the ignorant, though I would be far
from charging them with deliberate fraud and invention of
what they know to be false, yet in this respect at least the
comparison holds good, and its warning is most useful ; that
if God spared not him who was deceived by the falsehood of

THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH. 285
the prophet, artfully contrived and incapable of detection,
when he departed from God's word, manifestly and directly
revealed, how can they expect to escape, who forsake the
plain path of Scripture, and corrupt the most important
truths of religion, in comphance with teachers who have no
pretensions to inspiration, but who speak from the natural
unassisted judgments, and often from the vrild imaginations
of their own minds ?
Nothing which has been here advanced wUl, I trust, be
understood as if it were meant to condemn all study of the
ways and works of providence; aU endeavours to demon
strate their wisdom and goodness, or to point out those con
siderations which may satisfy the doubts of a pious inquirer
by reconcUing God's dealings to human reason. On the
contrary, it is an employment as innocent and laudable as it
is deUghtful, to search out the wisdom of the Most High,
whether exemplified in the works of the natural world, or in
the revelation He has given of Himself* to mankind. And
there is not a more worthy or a more noble exercise of the
faculties He has given us, than to remove the scruples and
clear up the difficulties of weak minds ; to suggest probable
grounds for that, which to them seems strange and 'hard to
be understood,' and to rindicate his counsels from the ob
jections and cavils of unbelievers. It is only when we pre
sume to set up our judgments in opposition to his manifest
revelation, when we venture to pronounce, 'this cannot be
the vriU of God, because it is not agreeable to the reason of
Man,' that the offence begins ; the same offence which made
the Jews and Greeks of old reject the preaching of the
Cross, to the one an offence, to the other foolishness, and
which still operates more or less in all minds who are not
prepared to submit every high thought, and every conceit and
imagination of their own to the obedience of Christ.
Some people object, that to consider whether a thing be
worthy of God, is one way we have of determining whether

286 THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH.
it came from God; and therefore contend, that it is no
defiance of his authority to do this, but a prudent and honest
endeavour to ascertain his will, and even a mark of jealousy
for his honour. The objection is plausible but not sound.
If indeed the point in question be one of doubtful authority
— one where the evidence is insufficient, or the language
ambiguous, we not only may, but in such a case we ought
to consult every other method vrithin our reach, of dis
covering from what source it came, and what is its legitimate
force and meaning. Thus the doctrine of absolute decrees of
reprobation, which some Christians hold, may well be opposed
on that ground, that it is inconsistent vrith our notions of
the goodness of God, because the passages of Scripture on
. which it rests are very capable of a different interpretation ;
and, moreover, cannot, in that sense, be reconcUed with a
multitude of other passages perfectly clear and decisive the
other way. But when the meaning of a precept is undis
puted, and so much proof is given that it proceeds from
God as would be sufficient to satisfy our minds if we had
no objection to allege against the thing itself, it is then an
unwarrantable presumption in a creature to reject it, because
it does not coincide with his opinion of what his Creator
would have done or ordered. Nothing could, in the opinion
of the Apostles themselves, be more unworthy of God, than
the painful and ignominious death of Jesus Christ ; but the
miracle of his resurrection overcame every scruple ; and we,
in this age, have united the authority of all the miracles
which were ever employed with all the Patriarchs, Prophets,
and Apostles, to conrince them severally that their mission
was from God ; so that no room remains for the use of this
argument, except where the language of Scripture is doubt
ful, and admits of various interpretations.
But if we return to the case of the prophet, which gave
rise to these reflections, we shall find that not the shghtest
ground existed for doubting of the dirine authority under

THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH. 287
which he was then acting. The finger of God had been
manifested in a most striking and preternatural act of power;
and, according to his own statement, the same God who bade
him rebuke the idolatrous king, and denounce vengeance
against his altar, bade him also return without eating bread
or drinking water there. Of this he had the fullest assurance
which man could have or desire to have. In him there could be
no pretence of a candid and sincere inquiry after truth ; of
judgment perplexed and misled by the apparent weight of
evidence. The eridence to which he yielded was confessedly
weaker than that which appeared on the other side. He
knew to a certainty that God had commanded him not to
eat ; but another only told him that God had revoked this
command : ' I am a prophet as thou art, and an angel spake
to me, saying. Bring him back with thee into thy house, that
he may eat bread and drink water.' (1 Kings xiii. 18.) But
he gave no sign of power, like the sign of the altar rent, or
of the king's arm healed, to conrince him that he spoke from
the same authority. And the example remains a standing
lesson to us of human frailty — a proof how weak and im
perfect aU our resolutions are, unless aided and supported by
Him, who knows our infirmities, and who, if sincerely and
from our hearts we ask his aid, is both willing and able, out
of weakness to make us strong.
The peculiar circumstances, too, under which the pro
phet's resolution faded him are weU deserving our at
tention, as containing an instructive warning for the
regulation of a Christian's life. It was not in the crisis
of his arduous duty when its difficulties and dangers lay
full in the way before him, that his constancy was
shaken. He had braved the anger of a king, surrounded
by all his court, in the midst of his own capital, and
when performing an act on which the whole policy of
his reign was founded. Nay, more than this. He had re
sisted the friendly entreaties of that king, and rejected his

288 THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH.
offers of favour and kindness. He had executed punctually
and to the letter all his commission, and a few hours would
have put him out of the reach of danger. To what tempt-
tation then did his virtue yield ? To that by which in the
course of human life every one of us is liable to be tried —
to the artful insidious approaches of false advisers, to the
seductions of apparent friendship, conspiring with the calls
of inclination and appetite.
It is not in the hour of persecution, and of open
peril only, that the fortitude of a christian soldier is tried.
Nay, in such an hour it has even been observed that a
spirit of reaction is often created in weak and timid
natures, that they have assumed a constancy and vigour
never before possessed, and have met the terrors to which
they were exposed with a corresponding energy. It is in
the familiar and unsuspecting intercourse of life, when there
is nothing striking or uncommon to put men on then-
guard, and remind them of their duty, that the principle
of obedience is most endangered. The heart, we know,
is deceitful above all things. It is seldom unable to invent
excuses and arguments sufficient to break down the barriers
between inclination and duty, and to make that seem lawfrU
which men feel to be desirable.
If, in such a moment the solicitations of hollow friends
and companions unite to flatter and foment their own
desires, holding out specious arguments for loosening the
restraints of religion, and suggesting distinctions, artful
reasons, and palliations, to quiet the scruples of a conscience
already disarmed, and almost asleep, the victory of sin is
completed, and the sinner vrilfuUy shuts his eyes against
the light that was in him.
Many and various are the arts by which in a refined age
the guilt of sin is varnished over, by courtly phrases, by an
air of delicacy and kindness, by cheerful and gay behariour,
sometimes even, as in the case of the lying prophet, by the

THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH. 289
more imposing artifice of appai-ent sanctity and religion.
But in all such cases, however plausible and ingenious the
discourse may be, which would seduce us from our known
duty, and explain away the import of God's laws, the
answer is short and ready — I vriU pursue the safe and plain
road, ' To obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than
the fat of rams.' God's law has been dehvered under cir
cumstances which make it impossible that I should be
deceived; and of this law an Apostle has said, 'Though
we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto
you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be
accursed.' If, after the view which has been given of this trans
action, it should stUl be required to assign some cause for a
prohibition so singular, there is none more probable than
that God chose to make manifest his extreme abhorrence
of the sin which then infected the whole country, by for
bidding his servant to accept any hospitahty there, or to
hold any communion vrith a people so poUuted. And the
refusal was calculated to make a deep impression, foUowing
close as it did upon the declaration of God's judgment, and
the stupendous display of his Almighty Power.
That it was a transaction every way worthy of being
stamped with peculiar characters, I have already observed,
both on account of the extensive influence of Jeroboam's
idolatry through Israel, and of its long duration after his
reign; for, notwithstanding this awful miracle, nearly aU
the kings who succeeded Jeroboam adopted the same poUcy,
to keep their subjects from going up to Jerusalem to
worship. And it was after an interval of fuU 300 years
that king Josiah, of whose zeal for true religion we read
in 2 Kings xxui., and who had been specially foretold
by name, on this very occasion fulfiUed the words of the
prophet in their literal meaning, by destroying the altar
in Samaria, and causing men's bones to be burnt upon it.
u

290 THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH.
There is, then, only one particular more which we re
marked as likely to raise a difficulty in the mind of a pious
reader, namely, the punishment falling on the head, not
of the deceiver, but of him who was the victim of his
deceit. Upon this point, especially after the observations already
made on the folly of measuring God's dispensations by our
own reason, it will not be necessary to say much. I wUl only
premise that the punishment was evidently, by its miraculous
character, more designed for the purpose of making an
impression on beholders, than of awarding strict retribution
to the parties concerned. Viewed in this respect, it appears
as the consummation and close of the whole supernatural
agency then employed for reclaiming the idolatrous people
of Israel. ' Men passed by, and saw the carcase cast in
the way; the lion had not eaten the carcase, nor torn the
ass : and they told it in the city where the old prophet
dwelt.' Thus, both the fact, and the cause of it, became
known at once. For the old prophet, upon hearing the
news, exclaimed that he was slain for his disobedience, and
he honoured his memory vrith a solemn funeral.
Again, although the person deceived was slain, and the
deceiver permitted to live, let us beware how we hastUy-
estimate the degree of punishment by that consideration.
On such a subject, indeed, it becomes us always to speak
vrith diffidence and humUity. But it must be erident to
every reflecting mind, that it may be a blessing to an in
diridual to have his life shortened, as it may be the bitterest
of all curses to have it prolonged. It is, at best, therefore,
unbecoming and rash in us to pronounce with any con
fidence what is mercy, and what severity, in such cases.
And in the case more immediately before us, there is enough
to show, that if the deceased was punished for his trans
gression, the survivor had no cause to rejoice in his own
impunity. Who is there, with a mind ever so little cultivated

THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH. 291
and informed, that would not think an early death pre
ferable to the protraction of life under the agonies of
remorse and self-reproach ; under the consciousness of having
been the guUty author of another's ruin ; of having seduced
innocence and corrupted integrity beneath the mask of
friendship, and through the abuse of God's sacred name ?
The old prophet, as we leam from the same history, was
not a man hardened in disposition, or incapable of those
feelings which affect the happiness of man far more power-
fuUy than any bodily pain, or any event that can occur
vrithout us. The sorrow which he expressed for the victim
of his deceit, and we may presume also the anguish of
heart which is the natural concomitant of such a recol
lection, were doubtless a fuU equivalent for his share of
the iniquity ; and he contributed, perhaps, by the course
and conversation of his remaining days, to keep alive among
his countrymen those few sparks of the true religion, which
were not wholly extinguished in the time of Josiah. AVhen
mourning over the corpse of his lost brother, his injunction
to his sons was, 'Lay my bones beside his bones;' and
we know, from the history of Josiah's great work of refor
mation of the religion both of Judea and Samaria (2 Kings
xxiu.), that the lapse of 300 years had not effaced in the
minds of the inhabitants the memory of the spot where
they lay, and of the tragical event which caused his burial
in their city.
But in speculating on the ends and motives of God's
ways, our principal care must be, as was before observed,
to submit our own thoughts and judgments entirely to his
revealed word ; pleased and thankful if we can discover a
solution to our doubts, but always ready to acknowledge
that, from the very nature of our being, it is impossible
we can now see more than a part of that wonderful scheme
which wiU one day be presented to the riew of those who
u 2

292 THE SIN OF THE PROPHET OF JUDAH.
have patiently waited for the kingdom of his Son, and
whose happiness vrill then consist in knowing and enjoying
that which in the present life is the trial and exercise of
their faith in Christ.
To Him, the Author and finisher of our faith, with the
Father, and the Holy Spirit, be given aU honour, and
worship, and thanks, and praise, world without end.

LECTURES.

The two following are the concluding Lectures (being the
10th and 11th) of a Series called the 'Bosworth Lectures'
(from the name of the Founder of the Lectureship), at Oriel
College. When I was appointed Lecturer, Dr. Copleston
being then Provost, I applied to him for assistance, which
he afforded me by revising those that I wrote myself,
and writing some for me; among which latter were the
following. The reader will understand, that these Lectures, being
expressly designed for undergraduates, were, of course, of an
elementary and popular character.
The rest of those written by him, though excellently
adapted for their purpose, contain Uttle or nothing but what
is to be found in several weU-known books, except one
passage relating to the Church's testimony to the Scrip
tures, extracted in the Essays on the Kingdom of Christ,
and reprinted in a former part of this volume.

LECTURE I.
THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.

TTAVING established the principal articles of belief which
the christian Church has uniformly maintained in
opposition to heretical opinions, it seems fit to inquire what
the nature of that Church is which has been the depositary
and guardian of the true doctrine, and how far its authority
extends in regulating the faith and practice of its members.
For as, on the one hand, we contend that our religion
was not set adrift in the world to be preached or explained
according to the will and fancy of individuals, so, on the
other, we maintain that there exists no human authority
warranted to impose upon us its own dictates in religious
matters, as entitled to implicit obedience.
Now, that from the first promulgation of the Gospel there
has been a distinctly and permanently-embodied society,
established by our Lord himself, beginning with the Apostles
and his first disciples, and spreading gradually vrider and
wider, as the Gospel was propagated among mankind, is
evident from the earliest ecclesiastical historians; and this
society it is that we denominate the Church.
The purposes for which our blessed Lord instituted this
society appear to have been principally these two : — 1st,
the preservation and dissemination of his doctrines in their
original purity; and 2ndly, the maintenance of peace and
good order among believers.

THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. 295
Hence it must evidently be a visible society. It might,
indeed, appear superfluous to notice so obvious a circum
stance, had not an attempt been made to limit the Church
to the invisible society of those who have 'finished their
course' upon earth, in the faith and fear of God ; an attempt
which would wrest from all ecclesiastical establishments their
claim to divine authority. This extravagant notion is refuted
by our Lord himself, who declares that the kingdom of
heaven (by which is to be understood the christian Church)
is lUce a ' certain king, which made a marriage for his son,
and sent forth his servants into the highways, who gathered
together as many as they found, both bad and good; and the
wedding was furnished with guests.'
Now, the description of a church, the members of which
are ' both bad and good,' cannot be confined to those ' whose
names are written in heaven.'
I have said, that by the kingdom of heaven is here
to be understood the Church; that it is also used (as
well as the equivalent expression, the kingdom of God)
in some passages, in another sense to signify the society of
'just men made perfect' in the next world, has probably
contributed to lead inattentive or uncandid readers into this
confusion of thought, which has terminated in their denying
the existence of the visible Church.
That this society was not only instituted' by Christ, but
further, that the mode of admission into it was prescribed
by Him, and restrained according to his will, we collect
from his answer to Nicodemus compared with his charge to
his disciples. He said to the former, 'Except a man be
born of water, and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the
kingdom of God;' here He lays down the mode and con
dition of admittance into his Church ; viz. to be ' boi-n of
water, and of the Spirit ;' and that christian baptism was
what He had in view as this mode and condition, is plain from
his charge to his disciples, ' Go ye therefore, and teach aU

296 THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.
nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of
the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.'
Now, as every society must be regulated by certain officers,
Christ has placed officers over his Church — ' I appoint unto
you a kingdom, as my Father hath appointed unto me.'* —
' As my Father hath sent me, even so send I you ;'t and that
this commission is not to be limited to the eleven Apostles,
the remarkable words which follow clearly prove, ' Lo, I am
with you always, even unto the end of the world.' J
Accordingly, in order to preserve that continuity of suc
cession in the officers of the Church which is here implied,
we find the Apostles taking care' to appoint and ordain
other ministers as Christ had ordained them, and trans
mitting to these a portion of the authority they had received
from Him; being by this means themselves the first of a
series which continues unbroken to this day. It is worth
while to remark, that (as the judicious Leslie has observed) §
* iMlce xxii. 29. t John xx. 21. % Matt, xxviii. 20.
§ The reader is to observe that the adoption of Leslie's argument
does not at all imply an approbation of his notions respecting the
character of the christian Priesthood. What Dr. Copleston's views
were as to the doctrine of the sacramental character of Ordination,
has been shown in a former part of this volume. But Leslie's argu
ment for the historical truth of the gospel-narrative is quite distinct
from, and independent of, all these questions. And a somewhat fuller
statement of that argument, with a notice of this distinctness, I wiQ
take the liberty of here citing from a little book which expresses
what were, to the best of my knowledge and belief, Dr. Copleston's
views on the subject.
' It is to be observed, however, that although no orve individual chris
tian Minister can, with complete certainty, trace his own succession
in an unbroken chain from the Apostles, and prove that there was no
flaw in any link, the case is different when we look to tlie Clergy gene
rally. For there can be no reasonable doubt that such an Order of
men, did always exist, from the times of the Apostles, continuously,
to this day. We maybe as sure of this as we are that great numbers
of the English nation are descendants of the Saxons, who settled in
Britain in the 5th and 6th centuries, though there is probably no one
man who could trace his descent from any of them. For christian

THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. 297
this continuous succession of the christian priesthood,*
-furnishes an unanswerable argument on the side of our
revelation, being a standing argument, as it were, of its
divine origin. If any set of men, springing up in the
present day, were falsely to profess themselves the regular
successors in an unbroken series of some who had been

Ministers held office in the Churches as immediate successors of others
who held the same office, and who, in like manner, professed to be
the immediate successors of others, &c., whose predecessors had been
appointed by the Apostles themselves.
' Now if, a century ago, or ten centuries ago, or at any other time,
a number of men had arisen, claiming to be the immediate successors
(as above described) of persons holding this office, when, in fact, no
such Order of men had ever been Jieard of, such a silly pretension would
have been immediately exposed and derided.
' There must always, therefore, have existed such an Order of men,
from the time of those Apostles who professed to be eye-witnesses of
the Resurrection, and to work sensible public miracles in proof of
their divine commission. And consequently the christian Ministry is
a standing monument to attest the public proclamation of those mira
culous events at the very time when they are said to have occurred.
' Now at that time there must have been great numbers of persons
able and willing to expose the imposture, had there been any.
' And you are to observe that this argument for the truth of the
Sacred History is quite independent of any particular mode of ap
pointing christian Ministers. If, for instance, these had been always
elected by the People, and had at once entered on their office without
any ordination by other Ministers, still, if they were but appointed
(in whatever mode) as immediate successors of persons holding the
same office, the argument is the same.' — lessons on Religious Worship,
L. V. § 14, pp. 140, 141.
* The reader is to observe that ' Priesthood' and ' Priest' are used
throughout this lecture in the general sense in which all ministers of
religion of whatever kind are so termed ; and, when applied to a
christian Minister in the original and etymological sense of Elder, —
Presbyteros ; never, in the sense of a sacrificing priest, — Hiereus or
Sacerdos, such as those of the Jews and of the Pagans. And, accord
ingly, the reader will find it applied, in a passage a little further on,
to the mahometan Mollah, who is not a sacrificing priest.
Dr. Copleston's utter rejection of the notion of a sacerdotal priest
hood on earth, under the gospel dispensation, has been fully set forth
in the former part of this volume.^

298 THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.
originally appointed by the author of certain miracles, to
testify those miracles as eye-witnesses, and to preach the
doctrines of their master ; and were they to add, that these
doctrines and these miracles had been constantly proclaimed
by numbers of these preachers from the time of the first
founder of the religion until now, who does not see that
so impudent a falsehood would be instantly refuted by every
one's experience ?
Now, the very circumstances which render it impossible
to gain credit for a feigned story of this nature now, would
also have rendered it no less impossible to do so at any
anterior period ; the pretensions, therefore, of the christian
priesthood, must be founded in fact, since we are thus
compelled to trace it up to the very period when sensible
miracles were professed to be wrought, which, if unreal,
men's senses would have enabled them to detect and ex
pose. It seemed advisable to remark this great and most im
portant distinction between the christian priesthood and
that of pagan or mahometan nations, none of which furnish
any evidence for their respective religions, since none of
them even profess to trace their origin in an unbroken series
up to the actual performance of risible miracles.
But to return — 2ndly, the Church of Christ is a spiritual
society ; He has himself expressly told us, that his kingdom
is not of this world; it was not set up in opposition to
temporal sovereignties ; it claimed empire only in the con
sciences of Christians, and did not in worldly affairs inter
fere with their submission to civil governors. The enemies
to which it was opposed were sin, the world, and the deril,
against which we promise, at our baptism, to fight man
fully under the banner of Christ crucified.
The spirituality of Christ's kingdom is proved by his
example no less than his words; He steadily resisted the
attempts of the people to make Him a king, and refused to

THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. 299
interfere in the questions concerning the obedience of the
Jews to the Roman government ; and his Apostles in like
manner inculcated the duty of obedience to the civil au
thorities under which they lived.
3rdly. The Church of Christ is an Universal society;
universal both with respect to place and time. The more
solemn acts of Jewish worship were confined to Jerusalem ;
whereas, the disciples of Christ were commanded by their
Master, to ' go out into all the world, and to preach the
gospel to every creature;' for to the blessed Jesus God hath
given ' the heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost
parts of the earth for his possession:' and hence we use
the expression of the ' Holy Catholic Church' (or Church
Universal) to indicate that it was our Lord's design to found
one community of unlimited extent.
The word Church, however, is frequently applied in a
narrower sense to evety single branch of this great com
munity ; it is thus that St. Paul speaks of having the care
of all the churches; we read elsewhere, also, of the first
founded churches in Asia; and we find the same name
continually applied to other such subordinate communities,
all of which could distinctly trace their origin, mediately or
immediately, from the first church at Jerusalem, from which
they were off-shoots, and deduce a regular succession of
pastors from the Apostles themselves. The christian Church
is also an universal society with respect to time.
The Jewish economy, which was only the shadow of good
things to come, but not the substance, was to cease. When
Christ appeared, its work had been accomplished. Like the
forerunner of the Messiah, the Mosaic dispensation sunk
before the increase of the Gospel ; the new law, which was
to be ' written on man's heart' and to teach him the wor
ship of God 'in spirit and in truth,' was to last for ever;
and this the Jews themselves rightly understood, though
they were mistaken as to the nature of Christ's kingdom ;

300 THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.
they were therefore at a loss how to reconcile that say
ing of Jesus, that He should be 'taken from them,' with
his being the Messiah — 'We have heard out of the law
that Christ abideth for ever : and how sayest thou. The
Son of man must be lifted up ? '
The christian Church, then, is not merely a number
of people agreeing in the same articles of faith, or in the
same acts of religious worship ; but it is, moreover, a society,
not of man's, but of Christ's, forming ; a society of spiritual
incorporation ; of universal extent both as to time and place ;
of which Christ himself is the Head, and all individual
Christians who have been regularly admitted to it, the
members. Neither is it left to the choice of each indi
vidual whether he will maintain his connection with it or
not. If he is a disciple of Christ he must be a member
of Christ's Church, and, being such, he is bound to comply
with those reasonable conditions, which are essential to the
good order and preservation of the society. It has been
already remarked that the Church, being a society, must
be regulated by certain officers, and that Christ has ap.
pointed officers for this purpose. These governors of the
christian community, besides their high commission to
preach the Gospel, are required to enact such canons and
laws in spiritual affairs as shall tend to edification ; whereby
it is not meant that they have authority to change any of
the divine laws, or impose any article of faith, or rule of
moral duty, or to prescribe any terms of salvation which
are neither expressly contained in the Scriptures, nor can
with certainty be inferred from them ; but only, that they
are invested with power in all such things as relate to
the outward peace of the Church ; and if it appears that
things of this kind are left undetermined by the Scriptures,
and further, that it is necessary they should be determined,
then we cannot doubt but that Christ has entrusted the
governors of the Church with authority to determine them.

THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. 301
Now, that these are not particularly determined by Scripture
is vety evident, for the rules of Scripture are aU general ;
we are commanded to assemble together for the worship
of God, but the times and places are not expressed. We
are commanded to ' follow such things as make for peace
and edification,' and to 'do aU things decently and in
order.' But the particular methods by which order must
be maintained and edification promoted are nowhere stated.
StiU, it is necessary that these things be settled, to prevent
disorder and confusion. And, accordingly, we shaU find
that the Apostles and primitive governors of the ^Church,
besides the standing rules of the Gospel, established many
regulations as the several occasions of the churches under
their care required. In many of St. Paul's epistles, espe
ciaUy in those addressed to the Corinthians, he prescribes
particular rules for the decency of divine worship, the
avoiding of public scandal, and the administration of other
things not determined by Christ. He speaks also of cus
toms which he or other Apostles had appointed, and which
the Church observed.
There is, and ever vriU be, the same necessity of insti
tuting rules for the peace and government of the Church
as existed in the apostolic age, and, consequently, there
is good reason why this part of the apostohc authority
should be transmitted to the rulers of the Church in all
ages. And as one of the circumstances which constitutes
the unity of the CathoUc Church is the obligation which all
its members he under (whether they fulfil it or no), to
trust in Christ as their Sariour and maintain the doctrines
of Scripture, (these being of universal authority,) so, in
matters of mere discipline (since these need not be neces
sarUy everywhere the same), it seems but reasonable to allow
authority as to such matters^ to the church existing in each
place. Where the authority of the governors is so clearly marked

302 THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.
out, the subjection of the members to that authority is
necessarily implied. Where the divine law sanctions the
former, it demands by immediate consequence the latter.
But these dictates of reason are confirmed by the voice
of inspiration : ' We beseech you, brethren,' says St. Paul,
' to know them which labour among you, and are over you
in the Lord, and admonish you ; and to esteem them very
highly in love for their work's sake.' And, again, the same
Apostle enjoins his christian brethren among the Israelites
to ' obey them that have the rule over them, and to submit
themselves ; for they watch for your souls, as they that
must give account.'
But if a power of ordaining rules for edification be con
veyed by the dirine decree to the governors of the Church,
they must also be invested with authority to enforce the
laws which they have deemed it expedient to enact, by
judging and censuring offenders.
This authority they derive from their blessed Master, who
declared to St. Peter (which declaration applied equally to
all the Apostles, and, as we have already observed, applying
to them in their pastoral character, descended to their suc
cessors in that department), that He would ' give him the
keys of the kingdom of heaven, that whatsoever he should
bind on earth should be bound in heaven, and whatsoever
he should loose on earth should be loosed in heaven.'
And the same authority which was bestowed on them by
Christ, we find conferred by St. Paul on Timothy, to whom
he thus writes : ' Against an elder (i^^Eo-^urB^ov, a presbyter
or minister) receive not an accusation, but before two or
three witnesses.' And to Titus the- same Apostle gives the
foUovring charge, ' A man that is a heretic, after the first
and second adinonition, reject.'
The jurisdiction here asserted generally for the sake of
preserring order in the Church is more especiaUy called
for in the admission of persons authorised to fill the pas-

THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. 303
toral office; for to anyone who duly considers with what
solemnity our Lord appointed his Apostles to their holy office,
and vrith which they transmitted to others the authority
they received, it will appear sufficiently evident that no man
is permitted to intrude himself into the ministty on his own
authority. The presumptuous arrogance of self-constituted teachers is
the more striking on account of the disregard they show to
the precepts, and the examples contained in that very Gospel
of which they claim to be ministers ; besides that, their con«
duct is so manifestly destructive of that unity and good
order, which are the very objects principaUy proposed in the
institution of a church.
There are unfortunately in the present day but too many
who are guilty of this bold usurpation ; with all the charity
that is due to the persons of such offenders, and with all the
compassion we may feel for the ignorance and delusion under
which some of them labour, we are neither required nor
allowed to think lightly of their offence. The only pretence
they have to urge is, that of an immediate personal call from
the Holy Spirit himself; a pretence which certainly ought
in all reason to be supported by the display of miraculous
powers, such as were possessed by the Apostles, and by
which they fairly established their claim to an immediate
commission from God. AU of these indeed were appointed
by our Lord himself during his abode on earth, except St.
Matthias and St. Paul, who were chosen by Him after his
ascension ; St. Matthias, upon whom the lot fell that pre
ferred him to Joseph called Barsabas, after the eleven had
prayed to the Lord Jesus that He would show whether of
these two He had chosen ; and St. Paul, who was called in a
manner sensibly miraculous.
All the other christian ministers of the primitive Church
received their commission mediately or immediately from
the Apostles ; who were so far from thinking the regular.

304 THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.
distinct, and solemn appointment of them a matter of small
import, that they did not dispense with it even in the case
of those who had received the extraordinary gifts of the
Holy Spirit. Their charge to the disciples on the occasion
of the first institution of deacons was this — ' Brethren, look
ye out seven men of honest report, full of the Holy Ghost
and of wisdom, whom we may appoint over this business;'
the persons thus selected were, as we read, set before the
Apostles, and ' when they had prayed, they laid their hands
on them.'
Another conclusion which we cannot but infer from an
attentive view of the authoritative, distinct, and regular insti
tution of the christian Church is, that it cannot be allowable
for any one to make groundless dirisions in it, or wantonly
to separate from it. Such conduct is uniformly and severely
reprobated both by Christ and his Apostles; the prayer of
the former for his disciples was that they might ' be one.'
St. Paul, in his Epistle to the Romans, warns them to mark
and avoid those who ' cause divisions among them ;' and he
strongly censures those that existed in the Church of
Corinth : ' Every one of you saith, I am of Paid, and I
of Apollos, and I of Cephas, and I of Christ. Is Christ
divided?' This conduct of theirs he calls ' carnal;' that is,
savouring of the original corruption of our nature, and un
suitable to the regenerated followers of Christ ; and it is
observable that he is not here charging them with any here
tical opinions, but merely with the sin of party-spirit and
schism. Heresy, indeed, and schism usually go together, but they
are in themselves two distinct offences ; and of this it is the
more necessary to remind you, because there are not a few
who think very lightly of the guUt of schism, and who seem
to imagine that, provided a man adheres to the right Faith,
his union with or separation from the Church is a matter of
very little moment, and may be determined according to his

THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. 305
own taste or convenience ; a notion which, if we consult the
Bible, we shall find to be utterly unwarrantable.
The toleration, indeed, which is very properly practised at
present in this country has led some incautious minds to
form a most fallacious judgment with respect to the nature
both of heresy and schism. Because no legal compulsion is
employed either to control men's religious opinions, or to
bring them within the pale of the Church ; some persons
are hence led to consider both religious opinions and reUgious
conformity as m'atters of no great consequence in a moral
point of view. They ought, indeed, to be left to the decision
of every man's own conscience ; but he is accountable for his
decision in the sight of God, and he wUl be most fearfully
accountable indeed if he regards them as matters of in
difference. Doctrines, indeed, and practices contrary to the word of
God we are bound to resist, by whatever Church they may
be enjoined; but when no reason of this kind can be alleged,
we are no less bound to conformity.
AU separation must either be a duty or a sin. That the
resistance of the Reformers of our Church to the abuses and
encroachments of the Church of Rome was both justifiable
and necessary; and that the Enghsh Church, as settled by
them, is of a character truly apostoUcal, and such that a
secession from it is justly chargeable with the sin of schism,
it will be the object of the concluding Lecture to estabhsh.

LECTURE II.

THE CHURCH OP ENGLAND.

TT was the object of the last Lecture to prove that the
christian Church is a society established by Christ and
his Apostles, and that the preservation of its unity was the
last and most earnest charge of our Lord himself to his
disciples. In the present Lecture it is intended to show that the
Church of England, as constituted at the Reformation, is
a true member of that universal Church to which no earthly
limits are assigned, and, consequently, that it is a violation
of christian unity to separate from its communion.
The first part of the inquiry, therefore, relates to the
disputes between us and the Church of Rome, compre
hending a multitude of controversies, into the particulars of
which it would be impossible now to enter. We shall con
fine our attention, therefore, for the present, to that claim
to infallibility and spiritual supremacy which is asserted by
the Church of Rome, and which we deny.
This may, indeed, be called a hinge of the whole con
troversy, for if once the claim be made good, all exami
nation of disputed doctrines must cease at once; and it
becomes the immediate duty of all churches to submit to
that decision which is dictated by the lawful sovereign and
instructor of the rest.
But when we demand scriptural proof of this extraordi-

THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 307
nary claim, we are referred to the single text of St. Matthew
(xvi. 16, 18), where our Saviour, in reply to the first confes
sion of St. Peter, ' Thou art the Christ, the Son of the liring
God,' says, ' Thou art Peter; and upon this rock I wUl build
my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against
it. And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom
of heaven : and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall
be bound in heaven; and whatsoever thou shalt loose on
earth shall be loosed in heaven.' Hence it is concluded
that this Apostle was invested with superior authority over
the rest ; and (what is still more strange) because St. Peter
afterwards preached at Rome and suffered martyrdom there,
it is further concluded that the first bishop whom he ap
pointed over the Church in that city, and all his successors,
are entitled to the same superiority.
The first and most obvious answer to this interpretation
of Scripture is, that this superiority was neither claimed by
St. Peter nor acknowledged by the other Apostles.
In his own epistle he makes no allusion whatever to
such a privilege. Nor have we any eridence, either in Scrip
ture or in the writings of the Fathers, that it was ever
thought of. Nay, in the question about requiring the
gentile converts to conform to the Mosaic law, St. Paul
we know ' vrithstood him to the face;' and in the full
assembly of Apostles and elders at Jerusalem, when this
question was discussed, St. James, and not St. Peter, pre
sided. If called upon for our sense of the passage, we answer,
that we regard it as a prophetic declaration of what after
wards is so plainly related in the Acts of the Apostles. By
the preaching of St. Peter the Church was first opened
at Jerusalem, above three thousand Jews being converted
in one day ; and by the instrumentality of the same Apostle
Cornelius the first gentUe convert was made, and the door
which they had hitherto beheved to be shut against the
X 2

308 THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.
heathen world was thus opened by him. Upon this rock
therefore, figuratively, may the Church of Christ be well
said to be founded. But that his successors in a particular
church, which was not even the scene of these transactions,
are also the rock or foundation spoken of, is a conceit,
not only unwarranted in Scripture, but absolutely without
meaning. That the latter part of the text conferring the power of
the keys had no special relation to St. Peter, but to the
Church which he was to have the glory of beginning, is
sufficiently evident from the same words being addressed
afterwards by our Saviour to the Apostles collectively, vrith
out any distinction. (Matt, xviii. 18.)
But, say the Papists, as the Scripture does not contain
all that is wanted for the regulation of the Church, and
as its meaning is liable to be variously understood, there
exists a necessity for some infallible guide to settle all
disputes, and to preserve uniformity of faith and practice.
Now, supposing this necessity admitted, (which is, in
fact, merely an opinion of theirs, resting on no warrant of
Scripture,) yet there is a total absence of all proof that
the Church of Rome is constituted this infallible guide, or
that it possesses a right to convene general councUs, or to
preside in them for that purpose. On the contrary, there
never existed a time when this privilege was allowed or
acquiesced in by the universal Church.
The churches of imperial and great cities were aUowed a
precedence and dignity of rank, although this was occasionally
contested, but that the superiority or control of the Church of
Rome over those of Constantinople, Alexandria, or Antioeh,
was admitted, is contradicted by all history. In fact, the
ascendancy she acquired in the West was the slow and
gradual result of a systematic ambition employing every
expedient of worldly policy to promote its views ; and one
of the worst consequences has been, the encouragement

THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 309
rather of blind superstition than of enlightened religion,
because that frame of mind is obviously the most disposed
to servile obedience and submission.
With this part of the subject, then, I will proceed no
further, observing only, in the language of the aGute Chilling-
worth, that the Romanists' argument is manifestly a circle.
They prove the infallibUity of the Church from a text of
disputed meaning, and they maintain their own interpre
tation of that text to be right, because the Church is in
fallible. But since the Church of England was confessedly for
many ages in close and intimate aUiance with the Church
of Rome, consulting her authority and obeying her decrees,
is it not a departure from the law of christian unity to
renounce that connection, and to withdraw altogether from
her communion ? Rather let us say. Was the Church of
England, when resolved to reform its own errors and cor
ruptions, to be restrained from so doing by the interposition
of the Church of Rome, and by the fear that she would
pronounce us heretics ? Such is the correct state of this
question. For the authority of that Church over us being
disallowed, it is rather for them to say why they do not
foUow om' example and reform themselves.
We were convinced that many fundamental errors and
gross corruptions had grown up in the Church, and we
resolved, in the work of reformation, to make the Scriptures
our sole standard of doctrine, and to conform, as nearly as
possible, to the primitive Church in matters of discipline
and practice.
We acknowledge the Church of Rome to be a branch of the
true Church, corrupted, indeed, and polluted, as we ourselves
once were ; we lament their errors ; we pray for their amend
ment, and we would gladly give them the right hand of feUow
ship in the performance of the same good work. But, in the
meantime, we contend that we ourselves also are an integral

310 THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.
member of the Catholic Church of Christ, baring that sure
and certain token of it,* an unbroken succession of ministers
from the time of the Apostles, and holding as we do the
Holy Scriptures genuine and uncorrupted for our rule of
faith. Even had the doctrine, then, of the Church of Rome been
unexceptionable, though we might respect her counsels and
listen to her advice, we should by no means yield to her
authority, and while her doctrines remain fundamentally
corrupt and vicious, we think it not only allowable, but
expedient and even necessary to withdraw from her com
munion. Upon these simple principles the great work of reforma-

* It is just possible that some few readers may misunderstand
this passage as implying the converse ; i. e. as implying (though no
such thing is said) that there can be no true church that wanXs
these marks. To guard against this mistake, and show what the
Bishop's opinions were on this point, I will here cite a passage from a
letter of his published in the Memoir, p. 195.
' I remember talking some twenty years ago on this subject with
that eccentric but learned man, 'Prebendary Dennis,' who agreed
with me, that it was our duty to conform as closely as possible to
what wc had reason to think was the perfect rule, — ^but that if circum
stances interfered with that, we must be content with approximation
— as, for instance (putting the very case you have put), if a society
of Christians were placed out of the reach of all regularly-ordained
ministers, I had no doubt they might and ought to administer the
sacrament among themselves, keeping as near as they could to the
prototype, and appointing one whom they thought fittest to perform
the sacred rites. He started at this — and, having certain mysterious
notions about the sacraments, he would not go so far as that with me,
although he admitted the fundamental principle which I had laid
down.' It may be added (in reference to an earlier passage in the same
letter), that the supposed case is far from being a merely imaginary
one. In our own days a body of reformed Christians at Zillerthal, in
the Austrian dominions, were in the very predicament supposed. I
have adverted to this case in the Second Essay on the Kingdom of
Christ. — Ed.

THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 311
tion was begun and carried on in this country. Unlike
some of the reformed churches on the Continent, we rejected
nothing from the mere spirit of opposition to the papal see ;
and whatsoever appeared to be agreeable to Scripture, to
have been approved and adopted by the primitive Church,
or to be conducive to edification, was carefully retained.
In order to ascertain these points, the writings of all the
early Fathers were thoroughly examined, as well as the acts
of the first general councils.
These documents were used as evidences of the practice
and opinions of those times, but the golden rule throughout
observed, and which is justly styled by Dr. Marsh the vital
principle of the Reformation, was, that 'Scripture, and Scrip
ture only, is the rule of faith.'
The principal corruptions in matters of doctrine were, the
sacrifice, as it was called, of the mass, which led to the
idolatrous adoration of the elements of bread and wine ; the
denial of the cup to the laity; image worship; adoration of
relics ; the doctrine of purgatory, and of the merit of good
works ; the worship of the Virgin, and the invocation of the
saints as mediators for man. In matters of discipline and
practice also the errors were many and grievous, — performing
service in an unknown tongue, keeping back the Scriptures
from the people; the sale of indulgences ; enforcing celibacy
on the clergy and auricular confession on the people, de
ceiving them with false stories of pretended miracles, besides
enjoining a load of superstitious rites and ceremonies which
had got complete possession of the people's minds, and
usurped the place of all true religion.
In the prosecution of this work (which may be said to
have been completed in the fifth year of Elizabeth, when our
Articles and Liturgy received their final sanction), nothing is
more remarkable than the spirit of sobriety and moderation
which governed the proceedings of our Reformers.
They compUed a Liturgy embracing all that was pure and

312 THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.
valuable in ancient forms of prayer, prescribed decent and
solemn ceremonies, retained episcopacy; and, regarding a
christian nation as a christian Church, they declared the
temporal government in ecclesiastical as well as civil affairs
to belong to the same sovereign.
It was scarcely to be expected that in a reform which
extended over a considerable portion of Europe, every coun
try should be guided by the same moderate principles. At
Geneva, in particular, under the guidance of Calrin, a church
was established on the principle of departing as widely as
possible in every respect from the institutions of the papal
see. Not only were corrupt and superstitious practices
abolished, but the whole exterior of religious worship, the
habits of the ministers, the form of administering the sacra
ments, and all other ecclesiastical ordinances were studiously
changed ; whether they were good or bad was not the ques
tion ; they were regarded as having once been papal. The
observance of festivals was forbidden, and instead of purify
ing and amending the Liturgy, ^U set forms were super
seded by the extemporaneous prayers of the minister. Pro
fessing to be guided solely by what they found in Scripture,
without regard to the practice even of the earliest chui-ches,
they established a perfect equality in the priesthood, all of
whom were called Presbyters ; a form of church government
which was afterwards adopted in the Low Countries and in
Scotland, where it has continued to the present day.
In England, from the first, there were men of enthusiastic
minds, who, in their resentment against the See of Rome,
were inclined to pursue the same measm-es. During the
persecution of Queen Mary's reign, many of these fled to the
Continent, and baring taken refuge among the reformed
chm'ches there, more especiaUy at Frankfort and Geneva,
they returned in the following reign, confirmed in their
antipathy to every foi-m of the English Church which bore the
slightest resemblance to the popish ceremonies. Hence

THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 313
arose that sect of dissenters, who under the name of Puritans
opposed the system of church government established in the
reign of EUzabeth, entertaining opinions hostile to the ciril
as well as to the religious establishments of the country.
Under James I. they increased in numbers and influence ;
and at length, in the reign of his unfortunate son, overthrew
the constitution both in Chm-cb and State. The objections
most strenuously maintained by them, related to the clerical
vestments, and to certain forms, which, as relics of popery,
they called idolatrous; such as the sign of the cross in
baptism, the ring in marriage, bowing at the name of Jesus,
church-music, the observance of festivals and days in com
memoration of saints.
If indulgence had been granted them in these points,
they declared their readiness to remain in conformity with
the Church of England; but it is remarkable, that after
their separation, the clamour raised about these matters soon
died away, and few, if any, it is presumed, would now assign
them as sufficient grounds for leaving our communion. In
points of doctrine there was no difference; but soon after
the schism was effected, other exceptions were taken to our
ecclesiastical system. More particularly — First, to the use
of precomposed forms of prayer in public worship.* Se
condly, to the royal supremacy. Thirdly, to the order of
bishops as distinct from, and superior to, the presbytery.
And being now at hberty to follow the bent of their own in
clinations, they estabhshed a communion simUar in aU these
respects to the Reformed Church of Geneva.
Upon no one of these points is it my purpose to enlarge.
Suffice it to observe on the flrst, riz. set forms of prayer,

* Many persons are not aware that John Knox provided a liturgy
for the Scotch Kirk. But the use of it being left optional, the na
tural result followed, that ministers were ashamed to use it, lest they
should be supposed deficient in the gift of prayer. — See Cautions for
tlie Times, No. xxv. p. 425. — Ed.

314 THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.
that the practice rests upon authority which it would be
presumptuous to resist ; set forms of prayer were used by
the Jews in a rehgion founded by God himself; they are
sanctioned by our Saviour, who has enjoined the use of one
prayer, and has given it as a pattern for the composition of
others. There were liturgies in the primitive Church,
ascribed to St. Peter, St. Mark, and St. James ; and whe
ther we admit them to have been actuaUy composed by
those persons or not, certain it is, that they were used by
congregations of primitive Christians; and that the names,
' common prayers,' ' constituted prayers,' frequently occur
in the writings of the earliest Fathers, who also speak of
prayers used by the Apostles. 2ndly. On the subject of
Royal Supremacy, much is not required to be said in the
present times, for the objection is not often heard; and,
perhaps the words of our church articles will now be allowed
by most of our opponents to be a sufficient answer — ' Where
we attribute to the King's Majesty the chief government,
we give not to our princes the ministering either of God's
word, or of the sacraments, but that only prerogative which
we see to have been given always to all godly princes in
Holy Scripture, by God himself; that is, that they should
rule all estates and degrees committed to their charge by
God, whether they be ecclesiastical or temporal, and re
strain with the civil sword the stubborn and evil doers.'
Srdly. The third point of difference, which has been the
cause of much controversy, is the government of the Church
by bishops. The title of bishop, and his spiritual office
could not be questioned, but the Puritans denied any dis
tinction between bishops and presbyters, contending that
of old they were used indiscriminately, and that ordination,
as well as all other spiritual functions, might be discharged
by presbyters alone, of which, however, they give no suf
ficient proof.
On the other hand, the argument for the distinct order

THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 315
and office of bishop is unfolded with so much clearness,
learning, temper, and candour, in the seventh book of
the Ecclesiastical Polity, that (waiving the question whether
that part of the work be rightly ascribed to the great
Hooker, or not) I would refer you to that for entire satisfac
tion on this point, as well as on every other subject in
dispute between us and the Nonconformists of that age.
Be it, however, observed, that although episcopacy is
proved to have been a form of church government sanc
tioned by the Apostles, and adopted by every church for
fifteen centm'ies,* yet such was the moderation of our
reformers, that they have nowhere pronounced it to be
essential to the constitution of a church, or to the validity
of ordination. In our own Church, the imposition of hands
by the presbytery is added to that of the bishop, because
such appears to have been the custom in ancient times.
There is, however, abundant proof, that bishops often or
dained vrithout the co-operation of presbyters — none that
presbyters ever ordained vrithout a bishop. Certain too, it
is, that some of the more moderate reformers of the Con
tinent lamented the interruption of this order, as a matter
of necessity vrith them rather than of choice; whilst our
own, wisely maintaining ' the established rule which they
found sanctioned by all antiquity, yet ventured not to con
demn the want of ii in any other church, or to call in
question the validity of their ordinations upon that account.

* It is to be observed, however, that the defenders of Episcopacy
as now existing, must set forth not only the just claim of deference
to primitive precedents, but also the right of each church, to modify,
on well-considered grounds, or to depart from, those precedents. For
a bishop, at present, differs as much, in a most important point, from
those who formerly bore that title, as a governor of a colony does
from a sovereign-prince. Originally there was in each church one
bishop ; who was, of course, the chief ecclesiastical ruler of that
whole church. — See Cautions for the Times, No, xvi. p. 317. — Ep.

316 THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.
We cannot close our view of these dissensions, without
offering a few remarks upon the danger of hastily indulging
private opinions and inclinations in matters that concern the
peace and good order of the Church.
Conscience has been commonly the first excuse; but
nothing is more deceitful than the plea of conscience,
where prejudice, or passion, or dislike, or impatience of
constraint, or love of rule and management have also room
to operate.
The first dissenters, as we learn from their own historian,
Neale, justified their separation on the ground of conscience.
They could not endure the slightest vestige of popish cere
monies. The interval, however, of a few years was sufficient
to dispel the prejudice, and it is no longer pleaded in vindi
cation of the measure.
But the breach once made is not easily closed, and various
causes now combine — pride, confirmed habit, entangled in
terests, long opposition, and mutual animosity — which render
a re-union more and more difficult. Neither does the eril
stop here. Schism is ever found to be the fruitful parent
of schism. Within a few years, out of then own bosom,
arose the sect of Independents ; enemies not only to episco
pacy, but to aU church government; and fr'om that time
downwards, numerous sects have continued to spring up,
tUl at length the very idea of union as a christian duty
seems to be lost from people's minds ; and the motive for
joining one sect rather than another, in defiance of all Scrip
ture and all authority, is founded in each man's private
inclinations, thus verifying, to the letter, the prophetic warn
ing, that times should come ' when men would not endure
sound doctrine, but after their own lusts should heap to
themselves teachers, having itching ears.' (2 Tim, tv. 3.)
These evils, again, are fostered and encouraged by a spe
cious profession of liberality, and a false notion of christian
charity. Christian charity is due to all men, even to un-

THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. 317
believers; but it is no charity to leave men in ignorance
upon points which affect their most important interests.
Neither, again, can we allow the praise of liberality to that
which at best is no more than indifference.
Liberality consists in bearing with that which we dis
approve; but if there be no fault in disagreeing with us,
what Uberality is there in allowing the disagreement? or, how
can he be said to practise charity, who concedes nothing ?
Far be it from us to deny liberty of conscience, or to
treat conscientious scraples vrith disrespect, but if we fail to
warn a brother of the danger of his ways, we are wanting
in our duty, and we become in some measure chargeable
with his destruction. And if an indulgence of private
humour in religious matters be, as daily experience seems
to prove, the prevailing error of the present times, it becomes
us all as members of the true Church of Christ, to stop
its progress whenever we possess the means of so doing. We
shall thus, at least, stand clear of the guilt of partaking in
other men's sins. Neither is the evil yet so rank as to
forbid all hope of cure.
If our endeavours be earnest and persevering, we may
confidently expect the aid and blessing of Almighty God,
who has promised never to forsake his Church, and who
declared from its first foundation that 'the gates of hell
should not prevail against it.'
The duty of using such endeavours cannot be too earnestly
impressed on the minds of such of you especially as are
destined for the ministry. How little hope soever we may
have of ever seeing the evil of schism totally and finally
removed, we are, nevertheless, both obhged and encouraged
to use our exertions in each particular case, for its prevention
and diminution. Sickness, poverty, and many other erils,
we can never expect to see banished from the earth, but we
are not, for that reason, to sit down in desponding inactirity,
vrithout endeavouring to the utmost of our power to lessen

318 THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.
these erils. It is in this manner that God has thought fit
to make trial of our patience, our benevolence, and our zeal.
Not, however, that I would exhort you to engage in acri
monious controversies and vexatious bickerings. Let us,
rather, according to the Apostle's precept, ' with meekness
instruct those that oppose themselves;' and be careful to
'give no scandal in anything, that the ministry be not
blamed.' Let us endeavour, by our learning, by the sound
ness of our doctrines, by diligence in all our spiritual func
tions, by a gentle and blameless deportment, and by purity
of life, to keep those committed to our charge in the right
way, and to vrin over those who have departed from it ; and
let us earnestly pray that God vrill be pleased in his good
time, to heal the dissensions of his Church, and to recall to
his flock those who have wandered in error, that we may at
length become one fold and one shepherd.

INDEX.

AccuEACY in statement, 31.
Ambigmty of language, 111, 117 ; a source of error, 118.
Analysis, not to be pushed too far, 101.
Apollos, fuller instruction of, 185 ; its nature, 199, 901.
Apostolical Decree, difficulty in, 34.
Apostolical Succession, 69, 296.
Apostolical teaching, mode and character of, 305, 207.
Authority, human, in christian duty, 51.
Average, use of, analogous to general terms, 103 ; fails in juris
prudence, 103 ; accurate in proportion to its field, 104.
Bampton Lectures, Dr. Hampden's, 63.
Baptism, 200, 239, 295 ; Infant, charge on, 83, 341.
Harrington, his Miscell. Sacr., 184.
Believers, impatience of, 245, 247, 249, 274.
Bible, the, its object, 248.
Bishops, pretended reverence for, 56 ; number of, from Oriel
CoUege, 29.
Bishoprics, application for, when allowable, 3.
Blessings, temporal, how far the exclusive sanctions of the
Jewish Dispensation, 141 , 145 ; not foreign to the christian
religion, 132 ; held out as encouragements, 137.
Blomfield, his Traditions of a Redeemer, 196.
Bosworth Lectures, 79, 293.
Calamities, temporal, errors respecting, 163 ; refuted in the
book of Job, 163.
Candidates, arrangement of, 14 ; for matriculation, letter on, 18.

320 INDEX.
Cause and proof, distinction between, 89.
Cautions for the Times, extract from, 49 ; reference to, 313.
Certainty, ambiguity of, 97 ; origin of the phrase, 98 ; not in
naorals, ib.
Certainties, Historic, 84.
Charge on Infant Baptism, 83, 241.
Christ, atonement of, only means of salvation, 155, 167, 198;
discourse of, at last supper, 175, 177 ; kingdom of, early
ignorance of its nature, 166, 173.
Church, application of the term, 294, 295; its nature, 294, 300;
christian, its institution by Christ, 294 ; its officers, 396 ; its
rules, 300; its authority, 61, 302, 239, 242; its individual
independence, 315; its visibility, 295; its spirituality, 298;
its universality, 299 ; separation from, either a duty or a sin,
305 ; contributions, 231, 233, 325 ; early, instruction of,
gradual, 183, 189, 192, 197, 203; thus accommodated to
human nature, 189 ; testimony of, to New Testament Canon,
79 ; and Jewish, advantages of their prolonged connection,
186, 190.
Church of England, its Liturgy, 311; its government, 315;
Puritans, objections of, 313; dangers to, from its own
members, 63; services of, 81, 85, 87, 88.
Church and Universities, 55.
Church-men, high, inconsistencies of, 56, 59, 87.
Circulate, ambiguous use of the word, 118.
College Fellowships, 10, 38; limitation iu time of, 11.
College, Oriel, mis-statement respecting, 31; examinations, 16,
18.
Colleges and Schools, compared, 20.
Combinations, self-constituted, 59, 63.
Commands, some, merely a test of obedience, 283.
Common-place-book, necessarily unfinished style, 96 ; extracts
from, 97, et seqq.
Comparison, scriptural, variety of, its design, 213.
Concession to intimidation, 33.
Concealment, a spur to investigation, 90.
Copleston, Bishop, coincidence with regard to his name and
place of birth, 2 ; iijtimacy with the Editor, I ; successive
appointments without any application on his part, 2 ; appoint
ment to the Fellowship at Oriel, 5 ; reply to Edinburgh

INDEX. 321
Beview, 6; work on the Currency, 27; his political opinions
and public spirit, 28, 33; pamphlet in answer to Mr. Croker,
37; his protest against the incereased grant to Maynooth, 33 ;
his views of Dr. Hampden's case, 55 ; conduct in Mr. Ward's
case, 70 ; his charge iu the year 1845, 73 ; his discourses on the
Calvinistic Controversy, 83 ; his influence as a writer under
rated, 90 ; his Lectures on Logic, 94 ; his share in Treatise
on Logic, 93; period of his fullest mental vigour, 03; his
views of High-Church principles, see Tract-Party, and Apos
tolic Succession.
Credulity of unbelief, 180.
Curiosity in heavenly things, 247, 269, 272, 276 ; our Lord's
reproof of, not to check benevolent interest or rational inquiry,
269, 272, 285.
Currency, Work on the, 27.
Dan and Bethel, 280, note.
Death-bed reflections, 218.
Difficulties, choice of, 34; in questions of religious toleration, 36.
Disabilities, Roman Catholic, 32 ; religious, removal of all, not
implying indifference to Christianity, 44.
Disciples, first, disappointed expectations of, 169, 173, 176,
371 ; their conduct under them, an argument for our Lord's
resurrection, 171, 177, 179; supposition of their falsehood
incredible, 181.
Disobedient prophet, difficulties in his history, 379, 287 ; fulfil
ment of his prediction, 289.
Dispensation, Mosaic, how a proof of the truth of Revelation,
128, 144.
Dispensations, divine, not to be measured by reason, 286.
Division, different, according to its object, 100 ; principles of, ih.
Doctrines, vital, not to be compromised, 233 ; how affected by
controversy, 240.
Doubts, Historic, 84.
Dudley, Lord, his letters, 32; his opinion of Logic, 91.
Edinburgh Revieic, replies to, 6 ; articles in, 68, 84.
Education Board, address on the, 57.
Endowments, 9.

322 INDEX.
Episcopacy, as now existing, differing from apostolic precedent,
315, note.
Essays, 1 st Series, 74 ; 3nd Series, 83 ; on the Kingdom of
Christ, 69, 81.
Etymology, remoteness of affinity in, no objection, 108; care-
lesness of the Ancients in, 110; and of the Fathers, 111;
importance of authorities in, ib.; instances of, 108, 109, 110,
111, 113, 117 ; liable to abuse, 101 ; important principles in,
109, note.
Faith, not to be confounded with knowledge, 150; justification
by, 199.
Fellowships, close, 3; limitations of, in time, 11.
Fortitude, christian, trials of, 288.
Fraud, pious, 53.
Future State, belief in, of the Prophets and of Job, 150, 154,
163; a clear declaration of, before Christ, premature, 167;
hopes of, natural, 1 54 ; how far a part of the Patriarchal
Dispensation, 147, 164; vague notions of the Ancients con
cerning, 166, 168; omission of the doctrine in the Jewish
religion, attempted solution of, 145 ; Scripture Revelations
of, Lectures on, 194.
Gobat, Bishop, Protest against, 56.
Hampden, Dr., attack upon, 55; Letter upon, 58; proceedings
in his case, injurious to the Church, 59; encouraging to the
Tract-Party, 71.
Historic Doubts and Historic Certainties, 84.
Holy Ghost, the, known to the Jew, 301.
Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, 315.
Human Nature, its tendency to the marvellous, 194; and to
corruption of religion, 206, 381.
Impossibility of two kinds, 106.
Interpreters of Scripture, Hutchinsonian School of, 258, 260.
Intoning and artificial reading, 88.
Israelites, voluntary offering of, 335.
Jews, admission of, to Parliament, a question to be left to the
Electors, 43 ; involring an important principle, 46.

INDEX. 323
Job, book of, 159, 163 ; its contents and supposed date, 160.
John, ¦ his Gospel, its omissions and peculiarities, 266 ; and
Epistles, congruity between, 263; design of, 264.
Judas, supposed object of his treason, 173.
Keys, the power of, not confined to Peter, 308.
Kingdom of God and of heaven, meaning of the terms, 295.
Kingdom of Christ, ignorance of its nature in the early disciples,
166, 173; Essays on the, 69, 81.
Language, ambiguity of, 111, 117; philosophy of, fundamental
questions in, 106; influence of opinions upon, 107; proper
framing of, ib. ; adaptation to ordinary conceptions of the in
spired, 108; which most philosophical, 113, 114, 116; Greek,
anomalies in, 114.
Latter days, application of the term by early Christians, 345.
Lectures on the Apostles, 269.
Lessons on ReUgious Worship, 139, 296.
Levitical law, typical nature of, 142, 150; its omission of a
future state, and its temporal sanctions, a proof of its divine
origin, 128, 144.
Liberty, christian, rule for its exercise, 332.
Life, prolonged, not necessarily a blessing, 290.
Liturgy, English, 311; and Scotch, 313; intoning and artificial
reading of, 88.
Logic, an art of language, 119; erroneous views of Duval,
Stewart, Campbell, 119, 120; objections to study of 91, 94;
treatise on, 93, 93 ; College lectures in, 94.
Logomachy, Madame de Stael's remark on, 123; letter of M.
Allamand, ib.
Long-suffering of God, 250.
Lord's Supper, the mode of administering, 85.
Lord's Day, its observance, duty of, distinct from its grounds,
53.
Luke, a peculiar characteristic of, 169; personal manifestation
of the Lord to him, 170.
Manuscripts, source of error in, 110.
Marcion, heresy of, 303.

324 INDEX.
Marriage Laws, 38 ; appeal to Mosaic law, irrelevant, 39 ; argu
ments for and against repeal of, 41.
Ministers, christian, order of, a proof of the historic truth of
the gospel narrative, 396.
Miracles of our Lord, design of, 356, 386 ; general character
of, 357 ; how far typical, 358.
Music, Church, 238.
Nation, Jewish, glory of, 189 ; its restoration, mistake respect
ing, 193.
Newman, Mr., his secession, 74.
Nouns, verbal, advantages of in Greek, 114.
Opinion, public, weight of, 8.
Ordination, not a sacrament, 69 ; mode of, in the Church of
England, 315; case of, in New York, 74, 75, 76.
Oriel College, misstatement respecting, 31.
Over-governing, system of, 38.
Oxford, University of, system at, 7, 8, 14 ; examinations, 16,
18; acts in Dr. Hampden's case, 58, 59 ; and in Mr. Ward's,
71, 72.
Parables, instruction by, 210 ; general character of our Lord's,
213 ; not to be overstrained in explaining, 212.
Paul, special preparation of, 193.
Party once formed not easily put down, 64, 71.
Peter, alleged supremacy of, 307.
Political economy, rapid progress of the science, 28.
Prayer, forms of, authority for, 315.
Priestcraft, exclusion of, from Christianity, distinguishing it from
all other religions, 68, 298.
Priesthood, christian, 296; not sacrificial, 297.
Principle, important, involved in unimportant things, 54.
Principles, sound, slow progress of, 45.
Reason, final triumph of, 45.
Reasoning not to be confounded with investigation, 120; ma
thematical, dependent on definitions, 99 ; principles of,
100.
Redemption, extent of, 254.

INDEX. 325
Reform impeded by unsubstantiated charges, 26.
Reformers under Calvin, 313 ; English, the, principles of, 309 ;
their moderation, 311, 315.
Religion, vital, nature of, 301 ; not merely intellectual, 208.
Reserve, doctrine of, 79.
Resurrection, error regarding, 347 ; vague notions respecting,
166 ; our Lord's, a fundamental point, 183 ; proof of, from the
conduct of the Apostles, 171, 179.
Revelation, a finished work, 209 ; practical character of, 276 ;
not to be cavilled at or explained away, 383, 284, 386.
Rhetoric, Elements of, 88.
Ritual observances, 341 ; objected to by the Puritans, 313.
Romans, epistle to the, its comprehensive principle, 231.
Rome, Church of, described in the Apocalypse, 375 ; its
doctrines, 333, 311; its infallibility, argument for, a circle,
309 ; its supposed supremacy not universally recognised,
308.
Rubric, principle of its interpretation, 86.
Sabbath, the, Thoughts on, speech in reference to, 51 ; Calvinistic
and Lutheran views of, 134; particulars in Burton's Diary,
ib.
Sacrifice of the Mass, 333.
Sacrifice, expiatory, not the dictate of human reason, 155 ; a
stumbUng-block to Socinians, 156.
Schism, evils of, 316 ; duty of exertion in preventing, 317.
Schism and heresy, distinct, 304.
Scriptures, addressed to all classes, 79; forced allegorical inter
pretation of, 959; study of, 307.
Security, feeling of, an advantage in permanent fellowships, 13.
Self-Denial, Essay on, 78.
Self-Examination, occasions for, 354.
Separation from a church, either a duty or a sin, 305 ; pleas for,
considered, 316.
Sermon on the marriage in Cana, history of, 256.
Sherlock, his sermons, 154.
Slowness, apparent, of God, its relation to us, 350.
Stumbling-blocks to fellow disciples, 334.
Syllogisms, prejudice against, of Stewart, 99 ; objections of

326 INDEX.
Campbell and Locke, 121 ; a test of ambiguity, 123 ; applied
to principles, ib.
System, the love of, a source of error, 259.
Teachers, self-constituted, 303.
Teaching, apostolic, 205, 207.
Test-oaths, 43, 51 ; primary design of, 47.
Time, not properly an agent, 123.
Timothy, 1st Epistle to, tenor of, 131.
Titus, correct rendering of a passage in, 377, note.
Toleration, religious, choice of difficulties respecting, 36 ; not to
be confounded with indifference, 333, 305, 316 ; of unim
portant differences, 335.
Tory Freeholder, Addison's, 56.
Tract-Party, 63, 65, 67, 71, 73, 74, 78, 88.
Transcendental school, 48, 49, 50.
Truth, difficulty of simplifying, often under-rated, 95 ; not pro
perly applicable to things, 105.
Truth and reality often confounded verbally and practically, ib.
Turning water into wine, distinctive character of this miracle,
260, 267 ; its circumstances, 261 ; its emblematic import, 262 ;
recorded by one evangelist only, 261, 267.
Tutors, private, 22.
Unity, christian, duty of, 316.
Unjust Steward, parable of, 315.
Virgin, prayers to the, 333.
Warburton, Bishop, his Divine Legation, character of, 132, 152,
155; history of the work, 144; letter on it, 126; general
argument, 127, 145, 148, 151 ; argument from particular
texts, 133, 134, 135, 153; supposed refutation from Patri
archal Dispensation, 147; his view of expiatory sacrifice,
155.
Ward, Mr., case of, 70.
Water, of what a token, 365 ; and blood, significance of, 264.
West, Dr., on Reserve, 78 ; his Remains of Bishop Dickenson,
74.

INDEX. 327
Wilkins, Bishop, on a real character, 113.
Wills, excessive reverence for, 9.
Wine, of what symbolic, 262, 365.
Witnesses, the three, 265.
Words, true meaning of, 49 ; confounded with things by Locke,
123 ; abberrations in, causes of, various. 111 ; from loose use
of terms, ib. ; from assimilation, 108, 112 ; from abbreviation
and alteration, 109 ; from extension and limitation of mean
ing 115, 116; from naturalisation in secondary sense, 113;
original meaning, forgetfulness of, a source of error, 117;
synonymous, 114. See Etymology and Language.

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