LIBR A^R Y 
 
 Theological Seminary. 
 
 PRINCETON, N. J. 
 
 , BR 85 .T39 1859 
 
 Taylor, Isaac, 1787-1865 
 S Logic in theology 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY AND 
 
 OTHER ESSAYS. 
 
 cO<K>-> 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY 
 
 AND OTHER ESSAYS 
 BY ISAAC TAYLOR 
 
 LONDON 
 BELL AND DALDY FLEET STREET 
 
 1859 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 ESSAY I. 
 Logic in Theology i 
 
 ESSAY II. 
 
 The state of Unitarianism in England . 77 
 
 ESSAY III. 
 NiLUS : — The ChrilHan Courtier in the Defert , 130 
 
 ESSAY IV. 
 Paula : — High Quality and Afceticifm in the 
 
 Fourth Century . . . . . .177 
 
 ESSAY V. 
 Theodosius : — Pagan Ufages, and the Chriftian 
 
 Magiitrate . . . . ■ . . . 197 
 
 ESSAY VI. 
 Julian: — Prohibitive Education . . . . 233 
 
 ESSAY VII. 
 " Without Controversy " .... 262 
 
 Supplementary to the Fifth Essay . , 345 
 
HE reader is informed that a great 
 part of the First Essay in this 
 volume appeared as an Introductory 
 E% to "Edwards on Free Will." The Se- 
 cond Essay, which firft appeared in the Ecle£}'ic 
 Review^ October, 1830, was reprinted at Man- 
 chefter foon afterwards. 
 
 The other EfTays — the Third, Fourth, 
 Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh — have not before 
 
 appeared in print. 
 
ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 Logic in Theology, 
 
 ODERN phyfical fcience has had its 
 commencement, and has attained its 
 prefent firm condition within a pe- 
 riod of three hundred years. The 
 philofophy which it has difplaced had held undis- 
 puted fway during more than eighteen hundred 
 years. In comparing the recent with the ancient 
 fcheme of natural fcience the contraft is not greater 
 in regard to the contents, or the afcertained refults 
 of the one fyftem, than in regard to thofe principles 
 of reafoning and thofe methods of proof which 
 have been admitted in each. 
 
 Throughout that long anterior period of ima- 
 gined intelle6lual liberty, but of real bondage, the 
 mafters of philofophy believed, and they taught, 
 that the human mind poflefles, or may attain to, a 
 fovereign comprehenfion of all things, real and 
 poilible, fo that it may work out for itfelf a fcheme 
 of the world, material and immaterial, derived from 
 its own conceptions ; a fcheme fuch that it fhall 
 
2 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 furnifli a true explication of all phenomena of the 
 a6lual world. 
 
 This prodigious illufion — fuch we now think it 
 — was already paffing ofF from the mind of Europe, 
 as a dark cloud, at the moment when Bacon, in 
 formal terms, challenged it as a folly, and the 
 parent of error. Since that time realities, one by 
 one, have been coming into their due pofition in 
 the room of dreams. This, with an allowance 
 made for exceptional inftances, may be affirmed 
 concerning the phyfical fciences of this modern 
 period. 
 
 In turning toward thofe regions of thought 
 where we ceafe to be concerned with things pal- 
 pable, vifible, meafurable, ponderable, a corref- 
 ponding affirmation cannot be advanced, apart 
 from exceptive flatements, fo large, that we may 
 well doubt whether the affirmative fide and the 
 exceptive fliould not change places ; or whether, 
 in the regions of non-material philofophy, what we 
 may affirm with truth is only this — that in thefe 
 fields the antiquated Logic ftill holds its fway — a 
 due allowance belno- made for inftances in which 
 jufter modes of thinking have gained ground. 
 
 In proportion as the human mind is compelled 
 to feel its dependence upon its inftrument, namely 
 — language, it is led, almoft irrefiftibly, to expe6t 
 far more aid from the logical collocation of words 
 and proportions than thefe implements of thought 
 can ever yield. Language, logically compacted in 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY. 3 
 
 propofitions, avails to give us the beft poffible 
 command of the knowledge which we a6tually 
 poflefs ; but it has no power to increafe that flock, 
 even by a particle, 
 
 Neverthelefs the advantages derivable from a 
 well-compa6led and a well-commanded flock of 
 knowledge are fo great — they are fo ineflimable — 
 that it becomes difficult to avoid attributing to our 
 logical methods an efficacy which does not belong 
 to them. We believe ourfelves to have acquired 
 knowledge, when, in fa6l, we have done nothing 
 more than bring our materials into available order. 
 In truth, it may be granted that order is a pofitive 
 gain in refpedl of materials of which we are likely 
 to make no ufe while they lie fcattered before us 
 in confufion. 
 
 The imagined efficiency of logical methods for 
 augmenting our flock of knowledge — for bringing 
 us to know what otherwife we fhould not know — 
 is flill affirmed, and is trufled to, in the depart- 
 ment of intellecSlual philofophy ; nor can it be 
 faid that thofe vafl advances of phyfical fcience, 
 which have refulted from the adoption of a wholly 
 different principle, have much availed to bring 
 about a correfponding improvement on this fide ; 
 for it continues to be believed that, by carrying 
 the highefl abflra6lions a fle'p or two further than 
 they have hitherto gone, the human mind may 
 come to folve the problems of exiflence, and may 
 mafter the myfleries of its own being. 
 
4 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 In the region of religious fpeculation, or of ab- 
 flra6l theology, various influences combine to 
 ftrengthen this fame confidence in the potency of 
 formal methods of reafoning for the attainment of 
 knowledge. Concerning thefe influences it is not 
 propofed in thefe pages to make any inquiry ; nor 
 to afk what may have been their operation in 
 diftorting or difturbing the principles of a purely 
 biblical theology. Inftead of attempting a tafk fo 
 difficult, and of fuch wide range as this, we take 
 up a fmgle inftance in which logical methods 
 which are affirmed to be ftri6lly demonftrative, 
 and irrefiftibly conclufive, have been applied to a 
 clafs of fubjedls in relation to which we are far 
 from being dependent upon language, or upon 
 Logic, and where genuine knowledge, as to its 
 fources, and its materials, is within our reach — 
 fubjefts which belong much rather to phyfics than 
 to metaphyfics. 
 
 An inquiry — properly phyfical — concerning the 
 conftitution of human nature, has come to be 
 confidered by theologians as their own. In confe- 
 quence of itsconne6lion with the principles of the 
 moral and rello-ious life. Theologv — that is to 
 fay, a mixed product of abftra6l fpeculation and 
 of biblical teaching — has interwoven itfelf, has en- 
 tangled itfelf, with what appertains to the philofo- 
 phy of human nature. A difentanglement of the 
 two is what may well be aimed at, as defirable. 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT, 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 IN modern times no inftance of the mifapplica- 
 tion of mere logic to the folution of a phyfical 
 problem has been more fignal, or has had fo wide 
 and lafting an influence as that of the " Inquiry 
 into the Modern Prevailing Notions refpeding the 
 Freedom of Will." Jonathan Edwards has held his 
 ground as a mafter in morals and theology, almoft 
 unqueftioned, from his own times to thefe. 
 
 Should we think, then, to diflodge him from his 
 pofition ? We are far from wifhing to attempt it. 
 But what may be done is this — to accept, and to 
 leave to its merits, the alleged demonftration of an 
 abftrufe dogma, and to fet it off as a matter alto- 
 gether indifferent to Chriftian belief, as it con- 
 fefTedly is fo to the conduft of common life. 
 
 Philofophical writings are allowed to command 
 a more grave attention, and to challenge a higher 
 rank in literature than is accorded to works of 
 imagination ; but then it is their fate more often 
 to fall into oblivion; or even if remembered and 
 preferved, yet to be fuperfeded, and to forfeit the 
 honours they once enjoyed as canons of fcience. 
 The reafon of this difference is obvious ; for in the 
 one clafs of compofitions an end is propofed, 
 namely, to give pleafure to the reader — which 
 
6 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 may be attained in a thoufand ways, and in the 
 purfuit of which genius enfures its own fuccefs. 
 But in the other clafs, where the difcovery of truth 
 is the fingle obje6l, fuccefs depends, not merely 
 upon the ability of the writer, but upon the good 
 fortune alfo which leads him to choofe the one 
 right track, amid innumerable devious paths. 
 
 Works of fcience loofe their credit, as fuch, 
 either in confequence of the refutation and entire 
 reje6lion of the principles they maintain ; or they 
 are gradually fuperfeded, in the courfe of improve- 
 ment, by better digefted fyftems, founded on the 
 fame general do6trines. In inftances of this latter 
 fort the difcoverers of certain great truths which 
 have become the property of the intelle6lual com- 
 monwealth, though they ftill hold their titles of 
 honour, are more often fpoken of than read ; or 
 they are read only by the hw who make the hif- 
 tory of fcience their peculiar ftudy. 
 
 Whatever may in the next age be the fate of the 
 '' Inquiry concerning Freedom of Will," it may 
 fafely be predided that, at leaft as an inftance of 
 exa£l analyfis, of penetrative abftra6lion, and of 
 philofophic calmnefs, this celebrated effay will long 
 fupportits reputation, and it may continue to be ufed 
 as a claffic in the bufmefs of intelleftual education. 
 If literary ambition had been, which certainly it 
 was not, the a£live motive of the author's mind, 
 and if he could have forefeen the reputation of his 
 " Eflay on Free Will," he need have envied few 
 afpirants to philofophic fame. What higher praife 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT, 7 
 
 could afcientific writer wifh for than that of hav- 
 ing, by a fingle difTertation, reduced a numerous, a 
 learned, and a then powerful party, in his own and 
 other countries (and from his own day to the pre- 
 fent time) to the neceflity of making almoft a filent 
 proteft againft the argument and inference of the 
 book as unanfwerable ; and yet leaving them im- 
 moveably attached to their previous opinion. And 
 then, if we turn from theology to fcience, from 
 divines to philofophers, we fee the modeft paftorof 
 the Calvinifts of Northampton afligned to a feat of 
 honour among fages, and allowed (if only he will 
 forget his faith and his Bible) to fpeak and to utter 
 decifions as a mafter in the fchools. 
 
 It might indeed have been well if this devout 
 man could have forefeen the confequences that 
 have adually refulted from the mode in which he 
 condu6ted his argument ; for in that cafe he would 
 not have allowed thofe who rejed the Chriftian 
 fyftem to triumph, by his aid, over faith, as well 
 as reafon. He would, inftead of abandoning the 
 ground of abftra61: reafoning as foon as he had 
 achieved the overthrow of the logical error of his 
 opponents, have laboured fo to eftablifh the refpon- 
 fibility of man as fhould have compelled unbelievers, 
 either not to avail themfelves at all of his proof of 
 univerfal caufation, or to yield to his proof of the 
 reality of religion. 
 
 The conftitutional diffidence, and the Chriftian 
 humility, and the retired habits of the American 
 divine, forbad his entertaining the thought that he 
 
8 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 might be liftened to by philofophers as well as by 
 his brethren — the minifters of religion. Suppofing 
 himfelf to be writing only for thofe who acknow- 
 ledged, as cordially as he did, the authority of Holy 
 Scripture, he did not fcruple to make up his chain 
 of reafoning, indifferently, of abftradions and of 
 texts. Efpecially in the latter portion of his trea- 
 tife, he readily took the fhort fcriptural road to a 
 conclufion, which muft have been circuitoufly 
 reached in any other way. Juft as thefe conclu- 
 fions may be, they commanded no refpecSt beyond 
 the limits of the Chriftian community; nay, they 
 excited the fcorn of thofe who naturally faid — If 
 thefe principles of piety could have been eftablifhed 
 by abftradf argument, a thinker fo profound as Ed- 
 wards, and fo fond of this method, would not have 
 gone about to prove them by the Bible. 
 
 Deiftical and Atheiflical writers, availing them- 
 felves eagerly of the abllra6l portions of the " In- 
 quiry," and contemningits biblical conclufions, car- 
 ried on the unfinifhed reafoning in their own man- 
 ner; and when they had completed their work, 
 turned to the faithful, and faid — Ouarrel not with 
 our labours, for the foundations were laid by one 
 of yourfelves! 
 
 Notwithftanding this accidental refult of the ar- 
 gument for moral caufation, as condudled by Ed- 
 wards, this treatife muft be allowed to have 
 achieved an important fervice for Chriftianity, in- 
 afmuch as it has ftood like a bulwark in front of 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY, 9 
 
 principles which, whether or not they may hitherto 
 have been ftated in the happieft manner, are of far 
 deeper meaning than is any fe6larian fcheme of 
 do6lrine, and apart from which, or if they were 
 difowned, the Chriftian community would not long 
 make good its oppofition to infidelity. If Calvi- 
 nifm, ufing the term in its modern fenfe, were ex- 
 ploded, a long time would not elapfe before evan- 
 gelical do6lrine of every fortwould find itfelf driven 
 into the gulf that had yawned to receive its rival. 
 
 Whatever notions of an exaggerated fort may 
 belong to fome Calvinifts, Calvinifm encircles or 
 involves great truths, which, whether defended in 
 fcriptural fimplicity of language or not, will never 
 be abandoned while the Bible continues to be de- 
 voutly read ; and which, if they might indeed be 
 driven out of fight, would drag to the fame ruin 
 every dodrine of revealed religion. As much as 
 this might be affirmed and made good ; although 
 he who fhould undertake to fay it were fo to con- 
 du6l his argument as might make fix Calvinifts in 
 feven his enemies. 
 
 Yet {&v^ would affirm that the treatife on the 
 Will is itfelf complete, or that it is not open to rea- 
 fonable objection on the part of thofe who refufe to 
 admit its conclufions, or that it leaves nothing to 
 be defired in this department of theological fcience. 
 Edwards achieved his immediate obje61: — that of 
 demoliftiing the Arminian notion of contingency, 
 as the blind law of human volitions ; and he did 
 
10 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 more than this, for he efFedively redeemed the doc- 
 trines called Calviniflic from that fcorn with which 
 the irreligious party, within and without the pale 
 of Chriftianity, had been ufed to treat them ; and 
 there is reafon alfo to furmife that, in the reaction 
 which has counterpoifed the once triumphant Ar- 
 minianifm of Englifh divinity, the influence of Ed- 
 wards has been greater than thofe who have yielded 
 to it have always confefTed. 
 
 But if the " Inquiry on Freedom of Will" is to 
 be regarded as a fcientific treatife, then we muft 
 proteft againft that mixture of metaphyseal de- 
 monftrations and fcriptural evidence which runs 
 through it, breaking up the chain of argumenta- 
 tion, and difparaging the authority of the Bible, by 
 making it part and parcel with difputable abftrac- 
 tions. 
 
 But befides the improper mixture of abftra6l 
 reafoning with fcriptural proof, the reader of Ed- 
 wards will dete6l a confufion of another fort — lefs 
 palpable indeed, but of not lefs fatal confequence — 
 as to the confiftency of a philofophical argument — 
 a confufion which holds intelledual philofophy far 
 in the rear of the phyfical fciences. This error is 
 that of mingling what is purely abftra6l with fa6ls 
 belonging to the phyfiology of the human mind. 
 Even the reader who is little familiar with abftrufe 
 fcience will often be confcious of a vague diflatif- 
 fa(ftion, or latent fufpicion, that fome fallacy has 
 pafTed into the train of reafoning, although the link- 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. ii 
 
 ing of propofitions feems perfect. This fufplcion 
 increafes in ftrength as he proceeds, and at length 
 condenfes itfelf into the form of a proteft againft 
 certain conclufions, notwithftanding their appa- 
 rently neceffary connection with the premifes. 
 
 The condition of purely abftraft truths is, that 
 they might be exprefled by algebraic or other arbi- 
 trary figns, and in that form made to pafs through 
 the procefs of fyllogiftic reafoning ; certain conclu- 
 fions beino; attained which muft be aflented to in- 
 dependently of any reference to the actual confti- 
 tution of human nature, or to that of other fentient 
 beings. Abftra6lions of this order ftand parallel 
 with the truths of pure mathematics ; and it may 
 be faidof both that the human mind comprehends 
 their properties and relations, and feels that the 
 materials of its cogitation lie within its grafp, and 
 need not be gathered from obfervation. 
 
 Not fo as to our reafonings when the actual con- 
 ftitution of either the material world, or of the 
 mental, is the fubjecEl of inquiry. When an argu- 
 ment relates to the agency and moral condition of 
 man, nothing fhould be taken for granted, or al- 
 lowed to flow in the ftream of logical demonftra- 
 tion, which at beft is queftionable, or which, whe- 
 ther true or falfe, fhould be ftated as fimple matter 
 of fa6l, and by no means confounded with thofe 
 unchangeable truths which would be what they are, 
 though no fuch being as man exifted. 
 
 But owing to the abftrufe nature of the fubjecSl, 
 
12 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 and to its not being fufceptible of palpable proof, 
 problems belonging to the fcience of mind have 
 commonly been attempted to be folved on this prin- 
 ciple of confounding the abftra6t with the phyfical. 
 
 In the cafe of our availing ourfelves of the rea- 
 foning of a w^riter like Edu^ards, it behoves us to 
 take heed that we do juftice at once to him and to 
 ourfelves j to him, by not imputing to h\m^ indivi- 
 dually^ a blame which belongs in common to meta- 
 phyfico-theological writers of every age — and to 
 ourfelves, by yielding our aflent to his argument 
 only fo far as it is purely of an abftract kind, and 
 holding ourfelves aloof from conclufions which in- 
 volve pbyfiological fa^s which either were not con- 
 fidered by the author, or perhaps were not known 
 to him. 
 
 Of what fort, we may afk, is the inquiry con- 
 cerning human agency, free will, liberty, and ne- 
 ceffity ? In other words, to what department of 
 fcience does the controverfy belong, and on what 
 ground is it to be argued ? And further, it may be 
 afked, at what points does the fubjetSi: touch the 
 conftitution and the movements of the human fyf- 
 tem, individual and focial ? or in what fenfe is it a 
 praSiical queftion ? 
 
 Unlefs, for the fake of an inference (foon to be 
 mentioned) it might well be deemed unnecelTary 
 to affume, as at all a reafonable fuppofition,that the 
 ordinary interefts of life are liable to interference 
 from abflrufe problems of any kind — fuch, for in- 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY. 13 
 
 ftance, as are propounded in the controverfy con- 
 cerning liberty and neceffity. There have indeed 
 been feafons during which an interference of this 
 fort was imagined to be proper ; and it may alfo 
 have found more indulgence than was due to it 
 within the circle of German philofophy ; but at 
 prefent the force of common fenfe is too great, and 
 the credit of abftrad fpeculation is too fmall, to al- 
 low room for queftions of this order. Or, even if 
 it were otherwife, the fuppofition of a pradlical con- 
 fequence belonging to the problem of moral caufa- 
 tion would ftand difcharged by the leave of even 
 the moft refolute impugners of common fenfe, who, 
 not only in their perfonal condu6l, but by explicit 
 admiffions, excufe themfelves and others from pay- 
 ing any more refpe6l to fuch fpeculations than what 
 is thought dueto the paradoxes of thofe who abound 
 in learning and leifure. " When the Pyrrhonian," 
 fays Hume, " awakes from his dream, he will be 
 the firft to join in the laugh againft himfelf, and to 
 confefs that all his objedtions are mere amufement, 
 and can have no other tendency than to {how the 
 whimfical condition of mankind, who muft a6l, and 
 reafon, and believe ; though they are not able, by 
 their moft diligent inquiry, to fatisfy themfelves 
 concerning the foundation of thefe operations, or 
 to remove the obje6lions that may be raifed againft 
 them." 
 
 Yet let us for a moment admit the fuppofition 
 that dodrines fuch as thofe of the Pyrrhonift have 
 
14 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 a claim to be liftened to before men can, with rea- 
 fon or confiftency, either proceed to tranfadt the 
 bufinefs of life or accept as certain any fyftem of 
 belief, religious or philofophical. 
 
 Let it be allowed, then, that the unfolved prob- 
 lem concerning the alleged liberty of the human 
 mind, and its exemption from the ftern conditions 
 of phyfical caufation, does affe6l, or ought to afFe6i', 
 not only our religious opinions, but alfo our no- 
 tions, feelings, judgments, and condu6l in every 
 day life. 
 
 That we may give every advantage to this fup- 
 pofition, and may exempt it from entanglement 
 with thofe recent theories of human nature which 
 Chriftian men muft reje6t, we confent to take our 
 do(Sl:rine of moral caufation from the " Inquiry 
 concerning Freedom of Will." 
 
 Let it be granted that Edwards is quite fuc- 
 cefsful in thofe fe6lions of his efTay in which he 
 labours to prove that the do6lrine of necellity, as 
 held by him, perfectly confifls with all true no- 
 tions of virtue and of human accountability ; nay, 
 that there neither is, nor can be, any virtue in the 
 univerfe which is not founded upon this moral 
 neceffity, as fet forth by this Chriftian philofopher. 
 Confequently, the prejudice againft this do6lrine,as 
 if it might favour fatalifm, and fo were of dangerous 
 tendency in morals, is unfounded. 
 
 This allowed on the fide of Edwards and his ar- 
 gument, then we muft afk leave to advance a ftep 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. 15 
 
 on the other fide, as thus : — We are fuppofing the 
 cafe, not of an acute and accomplifhed logical 
 reader, but of an intelligent and fairly-educated 
 man, competent to underftand whatever in our beft 
 writers is indeed intelligible, and who reads what 
 he reads for his perfonal improvement, and not as 
 if he were about to pafs an examination upon it in 
 his college. This is juft the cafe of nineteen out 
 of twenty, or of ninety-nine out of a hundred, of 
 thofe who read fuch works as Butler's Analogy, or 
 Hume's Eflays, or Jonathan Edwards on Free Will. 
 
 Now, fuch a reader of that efTay as we have de- 
 fcribed, is likely to reach its laft page with a mixed 
 feeling, which he might thus exprefs : — I cannot 
 deny that this acute reafoner carries his point j he 
 zV, he muji be right ; for where can I find a break 
 or a weak place in his chain of reafoning ? I may 
 then difmifs any mifgivings that have haunted me 
 in the perufal of the eflliy, and refolve to take to 
 myfelf the author's do6lrine of moral caufation,as 
 being a fure inference from admitted axioms. 
 
 But of what fort are thofe mifgivings which we 
 imagine to have haunted the mind of an intelligent 
 reader of Edwards' efiay ? They are, we think, 
 fuch as thefe. He feels that this firmly-jointed chain 
 of demonfi:rative reafoning is Logic, but is not fa6l ; 
 and that, whereas what the argument profefi^es 
 to have to do with is — human nature — that is to 
 fay, the a6lual conftitution of a being who thinks, 
 feels, and a6ls in conformity v/ith the laws of his 
 
1 6 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 ftru6lure5 intellectual and moral — the ftrength and 
 force of the author's reafoning confift in the due 
 dependence and the artificial fequence of propofi- 
 tionSjthat is to fay, of collocated words and phrafes, 
 beneath which the matter offa^ is tacitly aflumed, 
 or is concealed and put out of fight. This irrefra- 
 gable argument refembles, in its mode of reaching 
 a conclufion, thofe ingenious paradoxes in which 
 things the mofl: abfurd are made to appear incon- 
 teftably certain. 
 
 UnexprefTed mifgivings fuch as thefe, which we 
 luppofe to trouble an intelligent reader of the EfTay 
 on Free Will, might wear themfelves away after 
 a time, and leave him at eafe as to the foundnefs of 
 the author's argument ; but in the courfe of his dif- 
 curfive ftudies he is ftartled by the difcovery that 
 Jonathan Edwards, the Chriftian theologian and the 
 devout Calviniftic teacher, has been hailed as a 
 mafter in philofophy, and a powerful coadjutor by 
 the chiefs and apoftles of modern unbelief, and even 
 of atheifm. As he follows the courfe of thought 
 in England, America, France, Germany, during the 
 laft hundred years, he finds this Chriftian writer 
 travelling in company with the lateft of the mo- 
 dern champions of materialiftic pantheifm, upon 
 the fame road ! 
 
 At this point his firft vague mifgivings are fup- 
 planted by deep-felt apprehenfions or alarms ; and, 
 if he be a Chriftian man, he doubts whereunto he 
 fhall be led while yielding himfelf to the guidance of 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY, 17 
 
 a logician whofe demonftrations, though irrefiftible, 
 are welcomed by the preachers of impiety. There 
 muft then be a fallacy fomewhere in this chain of 
 reafoning ; but he will believe it to occur lower 
 down in the chain than where Jonathan Edwards 
 concludes his argument. With fome fuch unde- 
 fined and faving belief as this the intelligent Chrif- 
 tian reader refolves to make himfelf contented. 
 Pantheifts, materialifts, atheifls, in availing them- 
 felves of the hard logic of this Chriftian writer, have 
 no doubt committed a robbery, or they have in- 
 ferted a fallacy of their own, and have drawn from 
 it a mifchievous inference which he would have 
 abhorred. 
 
 In this manner fuch difquieting thoughts may 
 be put to reft ; but a confequence enfues which is 
 not of the lefs ill influence becaufe it creeps upon all 
 minds, filently and unperceived. What is it, then, 
 that, in fuch cafes, takes place in the minds of 
 intelligent and fairly-educated perfons — the mafs of 
 an inftru(3:ed Chriftian community ? We fliall 
 attempt to give fome anfwer to this queftion ; and 
 let it be underftood that, throughout this argument, 
 we quite exclude whatever may attach to the 
 narrow prejudices or the mifconceptions of the un- 
 educated — religious or irreligious. We have in 
 view the taught, the reflexive, the rightly-minded, 
 among our Chriftian communities. 
 
i;8 ESSJrS, ETC, 
 
 SECTION 11. 
 
 EVERYTHING within him— his intelkaual 
 and his moral confcioufnefs entire — contra- 
 di6ls, to a man of found mind, the paradoxes of fa- 
 talifm. When he is told that caufation is all of 
 one kind, that there are in the univerfe no caufes 
 but phyfical caufes, that there is no meaning in the 
 word Liberty, that the diftinftion between virtue 
 and vice is an illufion or a prejudice, and that it is 
 abfurd either to praife or to blame the actions of 
 men ; — when do6trine like this is advanced, it 
 meets its merited contemptuous difregard, or abhor- 
 rence, from every mind that is not incurably fo- 
 phifticated or debauched. 
 
 All things contradict monftrous paradoxes of 
 this order j — the inftinCts of reafon and of the moral 
 fenfe, the very ftrufture of the focial fyftem, the 
 procedures of law and political fociety, all pro- 
 claim and affirm a contrary do6lrine. The man 
 who in his clofet may for an hour have loft his 
 grafp of common fenfe, while he has liftened to 
 fophiftries of this kind, recovers his pofition, and 
 regains his hold of reafon the moment when he 
 takes his place anew in the domeftic circle ; or if 
 this means of intellectual reftoration were not 
 enough, his recovery will be fecured by his return 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY, 19 
 
 to the bufinefs and the refponfibilities of the ex- 
 ternal world. 
 
 All may now feem to be fet right ; — and fo it 
 would be if we always dealt equitably with our 
 feelings and ftates of mind at different times ; but 
 it is not fo : a doubt or a diftruft which, if valid at 
 all, muft take effe6l alike upon two or more ob- 
 jects, or interefts, orperfons, is perhaps thoroughly 
 cleared up and difcharged from our thoughts in its 
 bearing upon one of them ; but it is left, as we 
 may fay, to hover over or to befet another of them. 
 This fhould not be ; but among the incoherences 
 that attach to our human nature this is one. We 
 do not always make thorough work in putting our 
 own minds in order : perhaps very feldom do fo. 
 
 It is certain that whatever we affirm to be the con- 
 ftitution of man, as to his volitions, whatever may 
 be the conditions of that liberty which he believes 
 to be his prerogative, it is the fame in all its appli- 
 cations. Man is free, or he is the paffive creature 
 of phyfical caufation in all things alike. He is not 
 free in one fphere, or one department of his daily 
 life, and neceffitated in another department ; he is 
 not blameworthy and praifeworthy and refponfible 
 fix days of his life, and not fo one day in every 
 feven ; he is not rewardable and punifhable on the 
 exchange or in the market, but not fo at church. 
 He muft confent to be dealt with, and he muft 
 deal with himfelf, at all times, and on all occa- 
 (ions, on one and the fame principle. Whatever 
 
ao ESSAYS, ETC, 
 
 fenfe we attach to the abftra6l terms Liberty and 
 Neceflity, this fame fenfe muft be adhered to — 
 Sunday and Monday. 
 
 But now, if we are accuftomed to give ftri6l 
 attention to our own ftates of mind, or feelings, at 
 different times or on different occafions, we fhall 
 be compelled to admit that fomething far fhort of 
 this even-handed dealing with ourfelves is often 
 allowed to have its courfe. A man who would 
 think himfelf infulted if, on the broad ways of 
 common life, he were accufed of adopting the prin- 
 ciple of fatalifm or phyfical caufation, as profeifed 
 by the atheiftic materialift, goes home to his ftudy, 
 fpends his hour of lifllefs mufmg with fome writers 
 of this clafs, and yields himfelf, in refpe6l of his 
 abflra6l moral and religious belief, to this very 
 principle. He is a convert in his clofet to a doc- 
 trine which, if imputed to him out of doors by 
 another, would imply that he is fool or knave. 
 
 What enfues, then, is this : — Thoughtful men 
 fall into the ufage of fuppofmg that human nature 
 ftands related to two worlds — the world of common 
 life, and the world of moral and religious feeling — 
 on two different and contradi6lory principles, or 
 according to two independent and difcordant fyf- 
 tems of law. Under one of thefe fy flems he enter- 
 tains a lively and efficacious fenfe of refponfibility 
 and duty. God forbid that he fliould fail in any 
 of its requirements ! But under the other of thefe 
 fyflems his convi6lions have become confufed and 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY. 21 
 
 vague, his notion of refponfibility has entangled 
 itfelf with ambiguous abftra6tions, his fenfe of duty 
 has loft its vivacity, the moral feeling has fufFered 
 paralyfis : in a word, fo far as his morality con- 
 nects itfelf with his religious belief, he is a feeble 
 creature, an invalid. 
 
 If then we are required to fay what we mean in 
 deprecating the intrufion of Logic upon the ground 
 of Theology, this is our meaning : — We deprecate 
 the trufting ourfelves to the certainty of wordy de- 
 monftrations in inftances in which thefe methods 
 of argument, while they avail nothing for the dif- 
 covery of truth, give encouragement to that befet- 
 ting illufion which impels us to divorce morals and 
 piety from their due companionfhip with the mo- 
 tives and energies of common life. It is this parting 
 off of the one from the other which fo much per- 
 plexes the Chriftian moralift, who finds it often a 
 tafk beyond his ability to give vividnefs and reality 
 to the feelings of men when he would awaken in 
 them the fenfe of obligation in matters of religion. 
 
 Juft in proportion as fatalifm, under any of its 
 phafes and difguifes, is fhown and felt to be untrue 
 in human nature, fo much the greater reaction 
 will have place upon morals and piety, fo long as, 
 upon this undefined ground, it keeps its pofition at 
 all. This fa6t fhould be well underftood, for the 
 contrary might feem the more probable confe- 
 quence : it might be conjectured that, when a 
 healthy and vigorous mind difabufes itfelf, as by a 
 
22 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 convulfive effort, of the paradoxes of fatalifm, as 
 related to common life, it would difmifs them alto- 
 gether from its confcioufnefs, and refolve to be 
 enfnared no more in the fame manner. This, 
 however, is not always, nor perhaps often, what 
 takes place. 
 
 It is common to human nature (we need not 
 here ftay to inquire why) to throw itfelf off from 
 the familiar ground of proximate and intelligible 
 caufes, and to feek fuch as are abftrufe, difficult, 
 and ultimate, whenever it is agitated by undefined 
 and powerful emotions. We have in this fadl: one 
 of the fources of fuperftition ; and as it is in a fenfe 
 true that fear is the mother of the gods, fo, in a 
 fenfe, is it alfo true that anxiety, defpondency, and 
 the impatience of pain and forrow, are teachers of 
 metaphyfics. It may be doubted whether certain 
 profound fpeculations would at all have fuggefted 
 themfelves to the human mind, if life had been a 
 courfe of equable profperity. It may be queftioned 
 whether the inhabitants of worlds unvifited by evil 
 — how large foever their intelligence may be — have 
 ever thought of afking. What is virtue ? or. What 
 is the liberty of a moral agent ? 
 
 The confli6ts of hope and fear in the heart, and 
 the affaults that are made upon hope by the fcep- 
 ticifm or the mockery of thofe around us, impel us 
 naturally, yet unwifely, to throw up the good and 
 proper evidence which, though it be fimple, and 
 intelligible, and fufficient, does not open to the 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT, 23 
 
 mind a depth profound enough to give room for 
 the mighty toffings of the foul in its hour of dif- 
 trefs : — The only teftimony or proof that is ftridtly 
 applicable to the point in queftion is thoughtleflly 
 rejected ; and in an evil moment we tranfgrefs the 
 limits of fafety and of comfort, and pafs from the 
 (pucriKo. to the (j.£i:o(,(pucriHa. When this unhappy 
 miftake has been committed, two courfes offer 
 themfelves ; — the one is to beat up and down 
 through the regions of night whereupon we have 
 entered, until we find, or fancy that we have found, 
 folid footing, and difcern a glimmering of light : — 
 the other courfe is, by a buoyant effort of good 
 fenfe, to fpring up at once from the abyfs, and 
 efFedl our return to the trodden and familiar furface 
 of things. 
 
 The procefs is a frequent and familiar one, 
 which leads the mind to reafon on important occa- 
 fions in a manner which it fhuns as abfurd in pa- 
 rallel inftances of a trivial fort. The man who 
 lofes his footing in the flreet, and befmears a new 
 fuit with mud, makes mirth of the fimple accident. 
 But if, when he is on his way to accomplifh fome 
 momentous purpofe — to make a fortune or to 
 refcue one — he falls and breaks a limb, and, as the 
 confequence, irretrievably forfeits the only aufpi- 
 cious moment of his life, he then looks at the phi- 
 lofophy of the mifliap ; and, as he lies on his couch, 
 meditates and reafons concerning Fate and Provi- 
 dence until he has bewildered his beft convictions, 
 
24 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 and, in the gloominefs of his forrow, has perfuaded 
 hlmfelf that there is no heavenly fuperintendence 
 of human affairs — that chance is miftrefs of the 
 world ; and at length he concludes that fore- 
 thought, prudence, and a£livity, not lefs than faith 
 and piety, are a fpecious folly. Perhaps he re- 
 folves henceforward to purfue nothing beyond the 
 fenfualities of the hour. Neverthelefs, this fame 
 man, whom calamity has thus taught to be a me- 
 taphyfician, adheres ftill, on all trivial occafions, to 
 the maxims of vulgar good fenfe ; his philofophical 
 principles he takes up and lays down, according to 
 the magnitude or the infignificance of the bufmefs 
 in hand, and is not confiftently fage or fimple 
 through the courfe of a fmgle hour. He would 
 deem it a folly to attempt to avoid the deftined 
 track of a bullet that is whizzing through the air ; 
 and yet he flinches from a fplafh of dirt ! But 
 fliould he not remember that the very fame awful 
 fate that rules the flight of leaden balls, prefldes, 
 not lefs arbitrarily, over the whirling of ftraws, the 
 drifting of dufl:, and the proje61:ile curves of mud ? 
 Fatalifm, in any of its forms, has, we fuppofe, 
 been driven off from the road-ways of common 
 life, and has been rebutted in its attempt to inter- 
 fere with the energies of the day ; neverthelefs it 
 has not been logically refuted : it holds its ground 
 as a theory of the univerfe. Logical philofophers, 
 and along with them logical theologians, affirm 
 that hitherto they have not been overthrown in 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY, 25 
 
 argument; — the vulgar turn away from their teach- 
 ing ; but all who think aflent to their do6trine. 
 
 What happens, then, is this — that intelligent and 
 religioufly-minded men, liftening to this boaft, 
 filently yield themfelves to it, and with an unquiet 
 feeling bow, in their religious meditative hour, to 
 the monfter tyrant that affirms his right to hold 
 fway in the fpiritual world. 
 
 Thus it has happened that the momentous in- 
 terefts of the future life, as fet forth by Chriftianity, 
 becaufe they profoundly move the foul, lead both 
 the defenders and the impugners of a documentary 
 religion afide from the only pertinent inquiry — Are 
 its fa6):s duly eftablifhed, according to the ordinary 
 maxims of teftimony, while they difcufs contro- 
 verfies to which religion is related only in com- 
 mon with the moft familiar movements of fecial 
 life. Let philofophers deny, if they pleafe, the 
 exiftence of a material world : but why ftiould the 
 teachers of Chriftianity, rather than any other 
 clafs of men, come forward to oppofe the paradox ? 
 If that paradox has, in fa61:, any meaning at all, or 
 if it carries any inference which men ought to 
 liften to, then fhould lawyers leave their courts, 
 as well as divines their pulpits, and merchants 
 their markets, and phyficians their hofpitals, to 
 join in the debate. If any perfons are interefted 
 in this abftrufe queftion, all are fo alike — demon- 
 ftrably all are interefted in one and the fame 
 degree. Or let philofophers turn about and deny 
 
26 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 the exiftence, not of the material, but of the im- 
 material world. All men, in this inftance, as well 
 as in the other, and all human interefts, duties, 
 functions, hopes, and fears, are either alike con- 
 cerned in the refutation of this dogma, or may 
 alike, in their feveral circles of praftical activity, 
 look upon it with indifference. Or again, let phi- 
 lofophers affirm that an iron fatality — an immoveable 
 fequency of phyfical caufes and effeds — rules the 
 world. If there be any practical inference what- 
 ever — any inference which demands refpe£lful 
 hearing — attaching to this doctrine, then that con- 
 fequence bears evenly upon all a6livities, upon all 
 motives, upon all reafons of conduit, upon all 
 calculations of futurity ; and fliould either be 
 allowed to arreft the entire machinery of human 
 life, or fhould be utterly forgotten and negle6led, 
 whenever men are called to a6t and feel as ra- 
 tional and moral beings. 
 
 It enters into the definition of metaphyfical 
 problems — that they are univerfals. To bring 
 them, therefore, down upon one clafs of inftances, 
 to the exclufion of other inflances, is an enormous 
 folecifm. To fmgle out Chriflianity from the 
 crowd of human affairs and interefts, and to affail 
 It, fo fmgled out, with alleged demonftrations 
 which, by their very nature, are equally true of 
 all things, or falfe of all, is the fame fort of pro- 
 ceeding, as if a mathematician, after demonftra- 
 ting the properties of the triangle, were to apply 
 
LOGIC IN rUEOLOGT. 27 
 
 his dodtrine only to fuch triangles as are formed 
 by the rafters and joifts of a roof. 
 
 Thofe who at the prefent time would avow 
 themfelves as, in the main, the difciples of Jonathan 
 Edwards, and affirm that they regard the " Eflay on 
 Freedom of Will" as an exhauftive argument, 
 leaving nothing to be defired on that fide, will pro- 
 teft againft the unfairnefs of the attempt to give 
 him his place among fatahfts, or to admit that he 
 has given any occafion of triumph to modern 
 materialifts, pantheifts, atheifts. 
 
 If on the prefent occafion we confent to this 
 challenge, which brings an eminently devout man 
 over to a pofition among the enemies of all belief, 
 we muft do fo on the ground of reafons fuch as 
 thefe following : — 
 
 The extreme form of philofophic fatalifm Is that 
 which explicitly, and without difguife, affirms the 
 diftin6lion between phyfical and moral caufation 
 to be imaginary — an illufion — a vulgar prejudice* 
 This dogma has perhaps never been conveyed in 
 fimpler or more intelligible terms than in thofe — 
 often quoted — of Diderot: — "Regardez-y de pres, 
 et vous verrez que le mot liberte eft un mot vide 
 de fens ; qu'il n'y a point, et qu'il ne pent y avoir 
 
 d'etres libres Le motif nous eft toujours 
 
 exterieur, etranger, attache ou par une nature, ou 
 par une caufe quelconque, qui n'eft pas nous. . . . • 
 Mais f'il n'y a point de liberte, il n'y a point d'ac- 
 tion qui merite la louange ou le blame ; ilny a ni 
 
28 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 vice, ni vertu^ rien dont il faille recompenfer ou 
 
 chatier II n'y a qu'une forte des caufes 
 
 a proprement parler j ce font les caufes phyfiques. 
 II n'y a qu'une forte de neceffite, c'efl la meme 
 pour tous les etres." 
 
 Recent writers, whom we need not cite, not in- 
 tending to enter into controverfy with them, have 
 laboured to conceal the ofFenfivenefs of this doc- 
 trine, and to render it lefs repugnant to the reafon 
 and confcioufnefs of the mafs of men, by means of 
 elaborate and ingenious myftiflcations ; all which, 
 however, when given in the feweft words, can mean 
 nothing lefs, nothing elfe than this : — Human ac- 
 tions are as " the circumftances" and " thedifpo- 
 fition ;" and this difpofition, taken at any moment 
 of a man's life, is the produ6l of an antecedent 
 feries of circumftances, interior and exterior — ani- 
 mal, and, as we fay — moral, which have wrought 
 together to make him what he is. This doctrine, 
 whatever may be the foftening or the glozings that 
 are attached to it, we muft take leave to fpeak of 
 as identical with that profefTed by Diderot, and cited 
 above. 
 
 Now, let everything be granted to the full that 
 can fairly be affirmed on behalf of the author of the 
 " ElTay on Freedom of Will," for the purpofe of 
 bringing him ofFclear of any aflbciation with writers 
 of this atheiftic clafs ; let itbe faid that thisChriftian 
 divine oppofes himfelf ftrenuoufly, and triumphantly 
 too, to the irreligious dodrines of the fatalifts ; 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. 29 
 
 that if the completenefs of his exculpation of him- 
 felf in this behalf is not perceived and admitted, the 
 fault is attributable to the reader's own confufion 
 of mind, and his inability to underftand an abftrufe 
 argument : grant all this, or more, and yet the fa£t 
 ftands before us that a large proportion of perfons — 
 the intelligent and the educated, who may have 
 read the efTay, and who, at the moment when cer- 
 tain portions of it are under the eye, believe them- 
 felves to apprehend the author's reafonings and dif- 
 tincSlions, quickly lofe what they thought they had 
 held, and relapfe into an intelle6l:ual condition of a 
 very ambiguous fort. Queftion them categorically, 
 and they will fay, " Edwards is no fatalift;" but afk 
 them to give you the grounds of the diftin6tion 
 which they draw between his do6lrine and that of 
 Diderot, and they would acknowledge themfelves 
 perplexed ; they would have recourfe to the book 
 itfelf, if at hand, and (how you the page on which 
 you may read for yourfelf the author's exculpatory 
 averments and diftinilions. 
 
 Diftindions of an abftrufe kind, which are not 
 underftood without an effort, and which few minds 
 can retain for any length of time, may abundantly fuf- 
 fice {or fome purpofes, but they prove themfelves to 
 be wholly infufficient in relation to other purpofes ; 
 as, for inftance, in relation to the agencies and ener- 
 gies, the obligations and the requirements of every- 
 day life, a very little of argument may be quite enough 
 to fave a found mind from its entanglement with 
 
30 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 the paradoxes and the fophifms of the fatalift. But 
 it will be quite otherwife when the fame mind, the 
 fame healthy good fenfe, falls in upon itfelf, to con- 
 tend, as it may, with the very fame paradoxes and 
 fophifms, thought of in their bearing upon the firft 
 principles of morals, and upon the elements of ab- 
 ftra6l theology. In this dim region, and on this 
 ground, the man, well taught and thoughtful as we 
 fuppofe him to be, finds himfelf grappling in the 
 dark with an adverfary whofe power to injure him 
 may be greater than he thinks. 
 
 The religious man, ftruggling with giant doubts 
 that threaten the very life of his foul, will find him- 
 felf every daylefs and lefs able to draw comfort or 
 confidence from nice diftin6lions or fubtile demon- 
 ftrations, fuch as thofe are which had availed — as 
 he thought — to refcue the argument of Edwards 
 from its apparent connection with the fatalifm of 
 pantheifts and atheifts. 
 
 We come round again, then, to our point, and 
 affirm that, when Logic interferes with Theology, 
 it may do more harm than thofe think of who refort 
 to it as a means of advancing our religious know- 
 ledge. But it may be faid. If Logic be valid, and 
 if its refults are demonftrably certain, who fhall flay 
 it in its courfe or repel it, as if it were an intrufion ? 
 If logicians can fo eftablifh their pofition in any de- 
 partment of human thought — if they can fo fortify 
 themfelves there that we cannot drive them off from 
 their ground — who is it that prefumes to find fault? 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY, 31 
 
 The mafter of Logic, Ariftotle, has taught his fol- 
 lowers to be fearlefs, if only they adhere to his me- 
 thods of aflault and defence. 
 
 And how fearleflly did this mightyreafoner, who 
 wielded fo long the iron fceptre of a wordy defpo- 
 tifm, affirm things to be, which are not ! The in- 
 ftances are familiar to every one who is converfant 
 with the hiftory of philofophy. 
 
 What we mean by Logic, when we thus depre- 
 cate its interference with Theology, is the attempt, 
 by the formal collocation of propofitions, to reach 
 conclufions in matters where the unknown is in- 
 volved, and is commingled with what is known t 
 us, either as matter of confcioufnefs, or of obferva- 
 tion and experiment. We afk leave here to bring 
 in the aid of an illuftration, not intending to pufh 
 it further than fhall feem fair. 
 
 " It has lately been furmifed by fome adventu- 
 rous fpirits among us that great, nay, incalculable 
 efFe£ls of a mechanic fort may be drawn from — 
 who fhall believe it ? — the employment of the va- 
 pour that arifes in bubbles, as we know, from the 
 furface of water on the boil. But that this ftrange 
 furmife is without foundation, and that the hopes 
 vainly built thereon fhall turn out to be nothing 
 better than a bubble, may eafily be proved, and 
 may be made evident to all men's underflandings 
 that will give heed to the reafon of things, as fhall 
 now be fhown. 
 
 " Let us firfl afk what this vapour or fteam is 
 
32 Essjrs, Era 
 
 whereof we are now to fpeak, and from the adlion 
 of which fuch great things are expe6ted to come. 
 It is, we are told — and we are wilh'ng to grant it — 
 it is the offspring of the combination of two ele- 
 ments, namely, fire and water. But now, before 
 we inquire concerning the inherent properties of 
 either of thefe elements — feparately, we wifti this 
 only to be granted to us — and it is an axiom ma- 
 nifeflly certain or felf-evident, and which, we fup- 
 pofe, none will call in queflion who retain the fa- 
 culty of reafon, and it is this — that there will never 
 be found, in the fum or product of two quantities 
 or matters of any fort, more than is contained in 
 the two feparatelyeflimated. To imagine the con- 
 trary of this axiom were the fame thing as to fay 
 that two and three put together make feven, or 
 any other number. Certainly, we need give our- 
 felves little pains for eftablifhing what is fo mani- 
 fefl. 
 
 " Now then we come to a more particular in- 
 quiry concerning the nature of thefe two elements 
 — fire and water. We take, firfl, this lafl. In com- 
 parifon of the three elements, fire being now put 
 out of view — (there are only four elements, as we 
 well know, for the notion of a quintejfence is a 
 mere phantafy) — water is the weaker of the three ; 
 in refpecSt of earth, it is weak and unflable ; for let 
 but an infant apply a finger to its furface and it 
 forthwith gives way, or yields itfelf to fo feeble a 
 motion. Moreover, under the rays of the fun, 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. 33 
 
 itfelf utterly vanifties and ceafes to be; and that, in 
 refped of air, water is the weaker of the two, we 
 may either reft fatisfied in that teftimony which 
 fpeaks of ' mighty winds,' or we may appeal to the 
 experience of men in fuch inftances as thefe :— fay 
 that water has gotten poiTeffion of a goodly gar- 
 ment, thoroughly fodden thereby ; now, let only 
 this fame garment, whether it be cloak or fheet of 
 any fort, be hung up in the way — not of a mighty 
 tempeft, but in the courfe of the gentleft breeze or 
 current of air : what happens in this cafe is this — 
 that the ftronger of the two, namely, air, drives 
 forth and diflodges the weaker, namely, water, fo 
 that in a fhort fpace of time this cloth or garment 
 is found to have changed mafters ; for water hath 
 confefTed its feeblenefs in refpeft of air; elfe how 
 can we believe that it would fo foon, and without 
 noife, have abandoned what it had taken to itfelf, 
 unlefs, indeed, it were confcious of its impotency 
 as compared with its rival? Let this inftance then 
 fuffice for proving our firft point— namely, that 
 water is a creature weaker than the other elements ; 
 for we need not argue its weaknefs as compared 
 with earth. 
 
 " But now as to fire— the other ingredient of va- 
 pour or fteam, as we are told. Some men will be 
 ready to affirm that fire is indeed of a moft powerful 
 nature, and fo we grant it to be in a certain fenfe ; but 
 let us confider of what fort or quahty is that power 
 as to its metaphyfic nature. We fay it is of that 
 
 D 
 
34 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 fort which is proper to a nature which, more than 
 any other known to us, is hungry, indigent, exi- 
 geant, and negative. How elfe is it that men have 
 come to fpeak of fire with dread, calling it, and 
 rightly fo, the ' all-devouring element?' Of fo hun- 
 gry a nature is this element, that it is ever crying 
 ' Give, give ;' and never does it reft content until 
 it hath eaten up, and fwallowed with greedinefs, all 
 things near it, fhort of the very hardeft matters, 
 fuch as rocks, which it hath no ftomach for. Fire 
 is much like thofe fturdy beggars who, meeting men 
 on the highway, afk alms, but, if denied, will take 
 by force all that a man has, to the laft rag. Who 
 is it then, things being fo, that fhall think to feek 
 for aid and help in any great work from that which, 
 of all things known to us, is itfelf the moft in need, 
 and which itfelf a6tually dies and comes to nothing, 
 or to pale afhes only, when it hath quite finifhed its 
 meal ? 
 
 "We may then quickly fum up this controverfy, 
 and fhall appeal to the common fenfe and experi- 
 ence of men in thus concluding, that this expe(£^a- 
 tion, entertained by certain overweening men, that, 
 by conjoining the weakeft of the four elements with 
 that one which is the moft greedy and indigent of 
 the four, they fhall be able to further their me- 
 chanic devices — is a great folly ; and fure we are 
 that the hopes which are built upon any fuch fan- 
 ciful notion as this, contrary as it is to the com- 
 mon fenfe of mankind, fhall turn out to be much 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. 35 
 
 like that whereon they are founded, namely, mere 
 vapour or fmoke, to the difmay of thefe dreamers, 
 and the merriment of fober men that are lookers on." 
 Of fuch quality as this was a large proportion 
 of the reafonings of paft times, and not a little of 
 thefe times. But what fhould have been the treat- 
 ment given it ? Not furely to attempt a courfe of 
 counter-reafoning, refting upon the fame ground 
 of imagined analogies, and of verbal antithefes ;— 
 but an immediate appeal to fads. Is there any 
 mechanic force in fteam ? — Try. 
 
 In any inftance of a controverfy concerning 
 matters in relation to which an appeal to fads, or 
 to dired evidence, or to undoubted experience, 
 may be made, this fame mode of determining prob- 
 lems is, of courfe, to be reforted to. But is this 
 the cafe in the inftance of the ancient controverfy 
 concerning the liberty of human volitions ? We 
 might think it warrantable to aflume as much in 
 reading the noted " Eflay" of Jonathan Edwards ; 
 for in almoft every fedion he makes an appeal, 
 more or lefs dired, to the experience and con- 
 fcioufnefs of men. But then, in thofe elaborately- 
 compared paragraphs in which he labours to 
 drive his opponent into fome glaring abfurdity, 
 his antithetic proportions, are little better than 
 compages of words — carrying with them a great 
 weight of apparent meaning ; but, for finding 
 the real value of which, we muft go down into 
 the depths of the relationfhip of mind and matter, 
 
36 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 in the animal ftru61:ure, and in human nature, efpe- 
 cially. Thefe ever-recurrent phrafes, about the 
 " Will" and its conditions, the bandying of which 
 from fide to fide makes up a nine-tenths of the 
 effay, affume the vei-y matter in debate. The 
 demonftration is indeed irrefiftible, if only we are 
 willing to let pafs thefe wonted phrafes, unex- 
 amined, and to refrain from inquiring concerning 
 their correfpondence with the ftru6ture of human 
 nature. But if human nature, and if its inner con- 
 ftitution be In queftion, then It is not formal Logic 
 that can avail us for the folution of the problem, 
 even to the value of a ftraw. 
 
 Within the compafs of this often-repeated half- 
 dozen of phrafes, about '*the Will" and its " de- 
 termining motives," there Is embraced the pro- 
 foundeft myfteries of the univerfe of intelleftual 
 and moral life. Say that thefe are myfteries 
 which will ever defy the fcrutiny of man : be it 
 fo ; but this is certain, that queftions of this order 
 are only involved in greater perplexity when 
 treated In any fuch manner as that which Is at- 
 tempted by Jonathan Edwards. We may amufe 
 ourfelves with feeming demonftrations in this ftyle, 
 as long as we pleafe ; — we may, as above fuppofed, 
 fhow it to be abfurd to look for mechanic force in 
 the bubbles that play on the furface of boiling 
 water : but let us look to the doings of the fleam- 
 engine, and be fickened of nugator)'- wordy reafon- 
 ings about " the nature of things." Or we may 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. 37 
 
 prove it to be abfurd to talk of any fort of liberty 
 in the univerfe of thought and feeling which does 
 not refolve itfelf into an eternal feries of phyfical 
 caufation. We may do this, and then find our- 
 felves held in the relentlefs grafp of that pantheifm 
 which worfliips eternal law as the parent of all 
 things : — we may do this, and then find that our 
 only means of efcape from fo terrible a defpotifm is 
 — the irrefiftible confcioufnefs of a life within us 
 which is altogether of another order. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 BUT if Logic — the Logic of words and propofi- 
 tions — may not help us in phyfical fcience, or 
 in making known the conftitution of the material 
 world, may it not yield its aid in determining thofe 
 controverfies that have arifen among Chriftian men 
 concerning the meaning of holy Scripture ? 
 
 Logic will indeed help us when the terms and 
 the propofitions in which it deals contain only fuch 
 notions as lie within the grafp of the human mind ; 
 but not at all when difputation arifes concerning 
 things that are occult, or that touch upon the in- 
 finite and the unfeen. Not indeed as if fuch con- 
 troverfies may not be determined in a manner that 
 is fatisfaclory to ingenuous minds ; but then this 
 
38 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 defirable confummation muft be fought for altoge- 
 ther on another ground. 
 
 A Logic that is more exa6l may eafily be made 
 to demolifh, or drive off from the field a Logic that 
 is lefs exaft. Coherent reafoning triumphs eafily 
 over incoherent reafoning. Jonathan Edwards 
 floors Whitby and the Pelagians. Calvinifm is a 
 more compacStly-jointed fyftem than Arminianifm ; 
 and therefore it holds its ground boldly as oppofed 
 to its adverfary. This may eafily be granted, and 
 then the two queftions return upon us — How does 
 each ftand related to the conftitution of the human 
 mind ? and how to the teftimony of Scripture ? 
 Neither of thefe queftions finds a folution in thofe 
 writings of the laft age, or of earlier times, which 
 have treated them as if determinable in fcholaftic 
 ftyle. We fpeak now of the controverfy between 
 Calvinifts and Arminians or Pelagians, as a biblical 
 controverfy fimply, and we remit the confideration 
 of it as related to the philofophy of human nature. 
 
 The fruitleflhefs of any fuch method of con- 
 du6ting a biblical controverfy might well be argued 
 from the inftance of the " Inquiry Concerning 
 Freedom of Will :" the acknowledged fuperiority 
 of this treatife to works with which it might pro- 
 perly be compared — a fuperiority confefled by 
 philofophers as well as by divines — and its exemp- 
 tion from the befetting fins of polemical literature, 
 point it out as an unexceptionable inftance. Yet, 
 what has been the refult ? A fignal fervice has 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY. 39 
 
 been rendered by It to the caufe of certain mo- 
 mentous truths ; but this fervice has accrued indi- 
 re6lly ; while it has failed to bring the controverfy 
 between Calvinifts and Arminians to an iflue. The 
 metaphyfics of Edwards demolifhed the metaphy- 
 fics of Whitby. This was a matter of courfe ; 
 for the philofophy of Arminianifm could not endure 
 a rigid analyfis. Moreover, the metaphyfics of 
 Edwards has availed to impofe a degree of refpetSt 
 upon the flippancy of philofophers. But then — not 
 to infift upon the fa6l that the "Inquiry" has 
 become almoft the text-book of infidelity — it has 
 not brought the abftraft argument home to the 
 purely theological difficulty. It has left things 
 where they were in this refpedt, only with the dis- 
 advantage of fuggefting a tacit convidion — that 
 what Edwards could not effe6l can never be 
 efFe6ted. The apparently incompatible propor- 
 tions may therefore be affirmed, that, while he, as 
 the champion of Calvinifm, has achieved a victory, 
 and has driven his antagonifts from their ground, 
 he has perpetuated the religious difference by the 
 mere fa6t of having failed in his attempt to com- 
 pofe it. Is it, then, to be defired that a fecond 
 philofophic Calvinift fhould undertake the tafk of 
 convincing Arminians by fcholaftic Logic, and fo 
 of bringing them to a cordial acquiefcence in the 
 meaning of certain portions of the Scriptures .'' 
 Surely not. 
 
 An accordance among Chriftians in matters of 
 
40 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 belief muft be the refult, not of the perfecllon- 
 ment of abftradl theology, but of a better under- 
 ftanding of the ftru6lure and intention of the do- 
 cument of faith, which, unlike any other writing, 
 is at once the work of human minds, and not lefs 
 abfolutely the work of the Divine Mind. As a 
 human work — as a collection of ancient treatifes, 
 letters, and hiftories, compofed by almoft as many 
 authors as there are feparate pieces — it is confef- 
 fedly liable to the ordinary conditions of other an- 
 cient literature -, and not merely to the critical^ 
 but to the logical conditions alfo that belong to 
 the products of the human mind ; and therefore 
 when interrogated in relation to certain ahjlra^ 
 pofitioriSy derived, not from itfelf nor known to its 
 writers, but from the variable theological fyftems 
 of fuccefTive ages, it will yield not a few apparent 
 contrarieties. 
 
 But the Scriptures claim no refpect as authorities 
 in religion, unlefs they be received as, in the fulled 
 fenfe, a Divine work. As fuch, they muft have 
 their peculiar conditions ; and thefe (or the moft 
 important of them) fpring from the facf, that they 
 contain information, explicit or implied, concern- 
 ing more fyftems of things than one, or more orders 
 of beings than one. But then this genuine in- 
 formation confiftsjuft of thofe portions, or frag- 
 ments, or fegments, of fuch fyftems, or of fuch 
 feries of caufes, as involve practical inferences, 
 important to the fpecial purpofe of reftoring men 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. 41 
 
 to virtue. It muft follow that the harmony of 
 thefe disjointed portions will never come within the 
 range of the methods of human fcience ; for human 
 fcience is drawn from one fyjiem only^ and is imper- 
 feSiy even in relation to that one fyftem. 
 
 Illuftrations are always more or lefs faulty, and 
 yet they may ferve a good purpofe when advanced 
 fimply as fuch ; and are not urged as if they were 
 proofs or arguments. Let it then be fuppofed that, 
 to a number of intelligent perfons, inftru6led in at 
 leaft the elements of mathematical fcience, there 
 were to be given — not a diagram or defcription — 
 but fome of the diftinguifhing, and fome of the 
 moft recondite properties of the three conic fee- 
 tions — the ellipfis, the parabola, and the hyperbola; 
 and let it be demanded of them, not only to find 
 curves poiTeffing precifely fuch properties, but to 
 find one regular and fimple figure which fhould 
 contain the three harmonioufly upon its furface. 
 Now it muft be granted, as hypothetically poflible, 
 that fome one of thefe perfons, either by a happy 
 accident, or by force of his intelligence, might at 
 length produce the cone, and demonflrate upon it 
 the feveral properties of the theorem. But, to 
 make our illuflration complete, it fhould be fup- 
 pofed that no fuch figure as a cone had ever actually 
 been feen or thought of by the perfons to whom 
 the problem is given. What then would be the 
 probable event ? May we not afTume it as likely 
 that each individual, attaching himfelf at the firfl 
 
42 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 moment to the properties of fome one of the three 
 propounded curves, and giving his attention exclu- 
 fively to its peculiarities, and fucceeding, perhaps, 
 in the attempt to reconcile thefe feparate condi- 
 tions among themfelves, would be inclined to im- 
 pugn, as necejjarily /hlfe^ thofe procefles by u^hich 
 his companions were finding the other two curves ; 
 and, being fatisfied as to the foundnefs of his own rea- 
 foning, would deem that of his friends abfolutely 
 irreconcilable with it. And fo it muft feem until the 
 one true harmonizing figure is actually produced. 
 And yet how foon might a fierce controverfy 
 arife among the perplexed inquirers ! How foon 
 would there take place a feparation of the partifans 
 of the ellipfis, the parabola, and the hyperbola ! 
 The friends of the firft of the curves would think 
 themfelves juftified in denouncing the hyperbolifts 
 as extravagant heretics ; while thefe, and with 
 exactly equal reafon, would hold in contempt the 
 timidity of the ellipfifts. Meanwhile, the para- 
 bolifts, much admiring their own moderation, and 
 not doubting that it was they alone who held the 
 happy middle-way upon which truth loves to walk, 
 and hence believing themfelves qualified to acSt as 
 mediators between the extreme parties, would 
 gravely fay much that was very plaufible, and ex- 
 ceedingly well intended ; but they would not, in 
 fa6^, advance even a fingle ftep toward a true con- 
 ciliation of the difference ; — for this fimple reafon 
 - — that they are juft as far as their companions 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. 43 
 
 from knowing the adual principle of explanation. 
 The parabola m^y feem to be, but it is not in fa6t, 
 or in any degree, a reconciling truth between the 
 ellipfis and the hyperbola ; for, in truth, the ellipfis 
 and the hyperbola are not at variance. Mean- 
 time the controverfy, although it tends to no fatif- 
 fadtory ifrue,is producing thefe two ill confequences 
 (not to mention the excitement of bad feelings 
 among friends) namely, that thofe of the company 
 whofe temper was the moft calm and fceptical 
 would be haunted by troublefome fufpicions, as if 
 he who had propofed the problem had made fport 
 of the ignorance of all, by affirming things that are 
 ftrifty paradoxical and untrue. And then the by- 
 ftanders would almoft certainly learn to treat the 
 whole affair — the problem, its propounder, and the 
 fa6tions — with contempt. But we fuppofe that 
 at this inftant the propounder of the problem 
 enters, and forthwith extinguifhes the feud by the 
 production of the cone ! — all contrarieties are at 
 once reconciled ; all fufpicions are difpelled ; and 
 eager dogmatists of all creeds are put to the blufh ! 
 To defend the propriety of this illuftration in all 
 its parts would be idle. It is enough if it throws 
 any light upon the aflertion, that the Scriptures, 
 hecaufe they are true and divine^ and becaufe they 
 propound feparated parts, properties, or relations 
 of fyftems not known to man, will for ever baffle 
 the attempt to reduce their teftimony within the 
 completenefs and rotundity of human fcience. If 
 
44 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 it be fo, it mufi: follow that metaphyfical reafon- 
 ing, how exa6t foever, is not to be looked to as 
 the means of adjufting biblical controverfies. That 
 it m^iy feem for a while to do fo is granted ; but 
 the fpecious conciliation is either the mere con- 
 founding of an antagonift by force of fuperior 
 logical ftrength, or it has been efFe6led by con- 
 Jtraining adverfe portions of the fcriptural evi- 
 dence. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 IN every argument or inquiry concerning the con- 
 ftitution of the material world, and efpecially 
 concernino; the ftructure and the fun6lions of the 
 living world, vegetative and animal, it is unavoidable 
 that the terms and the phrafes therein employed, 
 and which are recurring in every paragraph, fhould 
 be made to embrace fomething which is known, 
 commingled with fomething, or much, that is un- 
 known. Forthis inconvenience there is no remedy. 
 When we fpeak, for inftance, of thofe energies of 
 vegetative life in virtue of which the plant fecretes 
 its feveral juices or its folids,the fap, the gum, the 
 refm, the woody fibre, the feed, the pulp, we note 
 certain fadls, but we fuppofe very much more. In 
 the ufe of language for noting and conveying what 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. 45 
 
 we know as to exterior fa6ls, we are aware of the 
 rifk we incur at every ftep, which is that of ima- 
 gining far more than we know, and of allowing our 
 ignoranceto cloak itfelfin theambiguitiesof fpeech. 
 
 No great mifchief, however, enfues,infuch cafes, 
 in the modern mode of difcufling the fubjeils of 
 phyfical fcience, fo long as we keep an eye upon 
 this fource of error, and take care to difengage our- 
 felves frequently from its confequences. The fault 
 of our predeceflbrs in philofophywas this, that they 
 did not do fo, but, on the contrary, allowed them- 
 felves to believe that, fo long as their Logic was 
 rigidly exa6l, all muft be right. In adherence to 
 the better ufages of modern phyfical fcience, we 
 learn to diftruft all reafoning concerning the laws 
 of the material world, in conducting which it be- 
 comes manifeft that the terms we employ are com- 
 ing to include a too large proportion of the un- 
 known — larger than it isfafe to allow them to carry. 
 In fuch cafes we abandon our Logic, and throw our- 
 felves anew upon fa6ts, by the means of enlarged 
 obfervation and of reiterated experiments. 
 
 We need not ftay here to adduce inftances in 
 illuftration of prac5lices that are familiarly known to 
 thofe who are converfant with any department of 
 natural philofophy. The application of thefe fame 
 methods to fubje6ls belonging to intellectual and 
 moral philofophy is not difficult, nor is it fairly 
 queftionable. Take the cafe now before us, of the 
 conditions of moral caufation attaching to the voli- 
 
46 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 tions of beings like ourfelves, or, in other words, 
 the queftion of "Freedom of Will." We might 
 gather our fet of terms and phrafes — the verbal 
 ftaple of this ancient controverfy — from any page 
 of the efTay juft now in view. 
 
 At once it is felt by every reflexive reader — and 
 it will be granted by every fuch reader who is not 
 wedded to fome controverfial dodrine — that thefe 
 words, and thefe conftantly-recurrent combinations 
 of phrafes, and thefe often-repeated proportions 
 which pafs under the eye unexamined, do, in facf, 
 ftand reprefentative of impenetrable myfteries in 
 the ftru6lure of human nature and of animal na- 
 ture, in all orders. The page or the paragraph 
 offers to the eye — or fay to the reafon — a due cate- 
 nation of affirmative or negative fentences ; there 
 is the proper antithefis, and then comes the looked- 
 for conclufion, and then the alleged abfurdityof any 
 contrary fuppofition : — all lookswell, fo far as words 
 can avail to carry us within the veil of the temple, 
 and give the foot a place in the adytum of intellec- 
 tual and moral life. But to how fmall an extent is 
 this entrance, in fad, obtained by any fuch nuga- 
 tory means ? 
 
 There is, indeed, a lower level of animal exifl- 
 ence — the very lowefl — in relation to which the 
 Logic of writers like Jonathan Edwards may be 
 admitted to be fufficient, or adequate to the facfts ; 
 at leafl in following it there is heard no loud pro- 
 tefl uttered in contradidion of it. But it is far 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY. 47 
 
 otherwife as we afcend upon the fcale of life, for, at 
 every ftep of this afcent the proteft — the contradic- 
 tion, becomes a degree more diftinit ; and by the 
 time that we have reached the uppermofl ftage — 
 even the platform of a fully-developed human na- 
 ture — the world of high thought and of great ac- 
 tions, this contradi6tion, this proteft, if it do not 
 utter its voice as a thunder, yet fo fpeaks within the 
 foul of the man as that we accept it as a timely 
 monition from God. 
 
 One might well be amazed in finding that fome 
 half-dozen or more of phrafes — to few or none of 
 which a diftindt meaning can be attached — when 
 worked upon in pedantic ftyle, and handled, this 
 way and that way, in appofition and in oppofition, 
 and in artificial fequence — are trufted to as means of 
 laying open the ftrucSture of human nature ! 
 
 In following upwards the fcale of mental deve- 
 lopment we find, as we go on, firft, faculties or 
 powers of wider grafp and greater force, and then^ 
 and as the refult of thefe, a far more intricate in- 
 teraction of faculties, fo that the ultimate products 
 are fuch as immeafurably furpafs, in quality, and in 
 quantity, and in complication, any with which we 
 had become acquainted among the lower orders of 
 the animated world. 
 
 But now the ancient and fcholaftic pra6lice of 
 treating all queftions of human nature abftraCledly 
 and metaphyfically has induced the belief that vo- 
 lition in man is fimple or uniform in its mode of 
 
48 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 fpringing up in the mind. Yet if the real world 
 of fentient and voluntary beings is looked at, it will 
 at once be feen, firft, that each fpecies has its pecu- 
 liar conditions of volition, and that volition in each 
 fpecies refults, at different times, from very diffe- 
 rent internal proceffes. It would appear, then, to 
 be the natural courfe to look out, firft, for the 
 fimpleft inftances of volition, and then to afcend 
 from them to fuch as are complex, and therefore 
 not fo readily analyzed. This order of inveftiga- 
 tion directs us to the inferior claffesof the animal 
 community — it being probable that, in obferving a 
 lefs complicated organization, we fhall become qua- 
 lified to diffedt that which is more fo. For we may 
 fairly prefume that the more complicated orders 
 take up into their mental machinery certain ele- 
 ments that have been imperfectly developed in the 
 lower ranks of exiftence. It is on this prefump- 
 tion that we avail ourfelves of the fruits of obfer- 
 vation gathered from the movements and habits of 
 inferior fpecies. For it is only by a reference to our 
 own confcioufnefs that we learn to interpret fuch 
 fa6ts ; and this interpretation prefuppofes the ho- 
 mogeneity of the primary elements of fentient ex- 
 iftence. If a pure intelligence, or a fimply rational 
 effence — wholly deftitute of all appetite, emotion, 
 imagination — were to defcend into this world of 
 hungry, thirfty, paflionate, irafcible, and pleafure- 
 loving beings, it would find itfelf utterly at a lofs in 
 endeavouring to comprehend movements which 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT, 49 
 
 it witnefTed. That is to fay, having no participa- 
 tion of the elements of the animal and moral na- 
 ture, it would want the gloflary of mundane life, 
 and would poiTefs no means of interpretation ; — all 
 it faw would be a riddle. 
 
 But this is not the cafe when man looks around 
 him upon his fellows of inferior rank ; for pofTef- 
 fmg, as he does, every element of animal and moral 
 life, he difcerns (&w operations which he does not 
 at once know how to tranflate into the language of 
 his own nature ; and thus he is qualified to philo- 
 fophize as well upon the mental conformation of 
 birds and quadrupeds as upon that of his own fpe- 
 cies. We fay, he witnefTes/^zu operations that are 
 unintelligible to him ; but there are movements 
 carried on, efpecially by the more minute tribes, 
 and thofe that are the moft remote from himfelf, 
 which nothing in his own nature enables him to 
 underftand ; they are fadls that are not interpre- 
 table by confcioufnefs, and accordingly we defigT 
 nate them by the term inJIinSi^ which has no clear 
 fignificance beyond that which attaches to it as 
 ftanding for a clafs of fa6ls that are not under- 
 ftood. Such fa£ls can afford us no aid in ana- 
 lyzing the operations of the human mind, and mufi: 
 therefore be excluded from our courfe of argu- 
 ment. 
 
 The inferior orders of confcious beings offer to 
 our notice two or three diflinguifhable elements of 
 volition, together with the rude commencements 
 
 E 
 
50 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 of another, for the full development of which we 
 muft look to the higher nature of man. 
 
 A proper teft for difcovering the elements of the 
 mental conformation of any order of beings is af- 
 forded, firfi-i by the educational treatment which 
 common experience proves to be applicable to it; 
 and then^hy the emotions or fentiments which are 
 excited in ourfelves by its qualities or difpofitions. 
 In this method we employ, as if it were, a che- 
 mical agent for bringing to light a concealed ingre- 
 dient. The dog is the fubjeft of abundantly more 
 education, and he is the obje6t of more fentiment 
 than the horfe — not arbitrarily or accidentally fo, 
 but becaufe he poflefles more intelle6tual faculty, 
 and more fenfibility. His fenfes are eminently 
 acute ; his memory is retentive and exaft ; his paf- 
 five power of acquiring habits is great ; and, to 
 complete his mental endowments, he is able, in a 
 confiderable degree, to hold in combination more 
 than twoor three conneded ideas, and among them 
 to felecl the proper inference from the antecedents. 
 Thus qualified, he remembers his mailer's ufages, 
 he apprehends his mafter's operations, and he 
 a6ls his part in accomplifhing his mafter's inten- 
 tions. And then, as a moral being, he is fufcep- 
 tible of fo pertinacious an attachment to individuals, 
 he has fo much fenfe of duty and of honour, and is 
 capable of fo intenfe a wretchednefs under the fenfe 
 of ill-condu6l and merited difpleafure, that he be- 
 comes the proper obje6t of correlative fentiments 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. 51 
 
 of affection, complacency, or difpleafure in the hu- 
 man mind. The dog, in virtue of his individual 
 difpofitions, and apart from all fophiftication or ex- 
 travagance, is regarded with feelings which it would 
 be as unreafonable to reflrain, when fo called forth, 
 as it would be to beftowthem,in the fame degree, 
 upon any other fpecies of domefticated animals. 
 
 Neverthelefs, the dog is limited in his range of 
 mental faculty and of fenfibility ; and, in compar- 
 ing his powers with thofe of man, we fee the more 
 clearly the foundation of that different treatment 
 of which the higher nature is the fubje6l, and we 
 fee, too, the abfurdity of anyphyfical do6lrine which 
 affirms the agency of men, of brutes, and of ma- 
 chines, to be one and the fame thing. The dog, 
 as he is not endowed with that inexplicable faculty 
 which prompts the beaver to confl:ru6l for himfelf 
 a hut, or the white ant to ere6i: a cathedral of mud, 
 or the rook to weave for her family an aerial taber- 
 nacle, is not gifted with any reafoning power for 
 attaining a fimilar refult. If deprived of his com- 
 fortable kennel he will neftle in a corner, or edge 
 himfelf into a rick ; but he never attempts (though 
 loofe materials of all forts may be lying about) to 
 conftrud a houfe. Or, to exhibit the fame limita- 
 tion of faculty under another condition : — the dog 
 may learn to take a penny to the fhop, and to de- 
 pofit it on the counter, and, with fignificant gef- 
 ture, to demand his roll : but no education would 
 teach him to underftand the equity of the relation 
 
52 ESSAYS, ETC, 
 
 between two pence and two rolls, and three pence 
 and three rolls ; nor, luppofing that he had dropped 
 one of the pieces of money on the way, would he 
 draw for himfelf the inference that he muft, there- 
 fore, content himfelf with one roll the lefs. And 
 yet a child would foon perceive thefe relations, and 
 deduce the proper inference ; or at leaft he would 
 underftand them as by a flafh of intelligence, when 
 explained to him. 
 
 The want, or at leaft the limitation of the power 
 of abftra6tion, and of the comparifon of complex 
 relations, afFe6^s, in an effential manner, the moral 
 conftitution of thefe inferior fpecies, even of the 
 moft intelligent of them ; while, on the other hand, 
 the pofTeffion of fuch powers confers upon man his 
 refponfibility, inverts him with the anxious prero- 
 gative of being mafter of his deftinies ; and, in a 
 word, transfers him from the prefent to fome fu- 
 ture fyftem of retributive treatment. 
 
 The more fenfitive fpecies of animals, fuch as the 
 dog and the elephant, enter within the pale of the 
 moral fyftem, or ftand at its threftiold — ^juft as, in 
 virtue of their fagacity, they enter within the pale of 
 the intellecSlual fyftem — by their fufceptibility of 
 emotions, which places them, to a certain extent, in 
 communion with man, and renders them the obje(f^s 
 of his moral fenfibilities. This parallelifm between 
 the intelleSiiial and the 7noral difference between 
 man and the brute holds entire. Animals of the 
 higher orders will do anything that comes within 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. 53 
 
 the range of aflbciation of ideas, or of the very fim- 
 pleft conne6lion of caufe and efFe6l ; but not more. 
 And in like manner are they open to keen emotions 
 of gratitude, fhame, revenge ; yet we foon touch 
 the boundary of their moral capacities. The ele- 
 phant has his emotions, and he is retentive of them ; 
 but he does not abftracSl the quality w^hich has fo 
 ftrongly afFe6led him from the act, or the perfon, to 
 which it belongs; he is confcious of that difference 
 in temper which diftinguiflies one of his keepers 
 from another, and he treats them both accordingly ; 
 but he does not form 2. feparate idea of goodnefs 
 and malignity, much lefs does he compare fuch ab- 
 ftra6ted ideas with his own correlative emotions ; 
 and therefore he attains to no complex notion of 
 virtue and of vice. As the confequence of this de- 
 ficiency of faculty, the animal does not think oihis 
 own difpofitions, or mufe concerning his perfonal 
 chara6ler, nor does he inflitute a mental com- 
 parifon between his own behaviour or habitual 
 temper and any abftrail notion of moral qualities. 
 Therefore neither the dog nor the elephant con- 
 demns or diflikes hirnfelf much lefs does he con- 
 ceive the idea of a better difpofition, as an objeft of 
 his ambition ; and therefore he never attempts the 
 work of felf-education by reprefling ill feelings, and 
 by favouring the better. 
 
 Accordingly, felf-originated reformation is not 
 looked for from the brute. He may indeed be 
 amended in his difpofitions by external treatment ,• 
 
54 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 he may alfo become more or lefs tra<Slable in con- 
 fequence of changes in his conjiitution or his dieti 
 but he never undergoes a change in confequence of 
 a mental procefs — bringing abfl:ra(ft quahties into 
 comparifon, and allowing one of them to be chofen 
 and followed, while others are hated and avoided. 
 If it be afked on what ground we infer thefe defi- 
 ciencies of internal ftru(Slure in the brute mind, we 
 reply, that the internal defe6t may fairly be implied 
 from the abfence of the proper outward refults of 
 the fuppofed faculty. In following even the moft 
 fagacious animal through his movements, in con- 
 nection with new and artificial occafions, we catch 
 him at fault precifely from the want of the power 
 of abftra6tion : the internal ftrucSlure, though re- 
 condite, is laid bare in fuch inftances, and we ceafe 
 to wonder that a being fo deficient fhould not pro- 
 vide for his welfare by artificial means. 
 
 And the very fame deficiencv neceffitates the 
 permanenceof his moral condition ; and — knowing 
 it — though we feel complacency or difplacency to- 
 wards the animal orders according to their difpofi- 
 tions, we neither aflign to them the praife of virtue 
 in the one cafe, nor impute to them the blame of 
 vice in the other. The animal that does not ob- 
 ferve proportions, that does not ufe inftruments or 
 confl:ru6t machines, does not, for the fame reafon, 
 attempt to remodel his own characSler; he does not, 
 in any degree, educate himfelf. Virtue, vice, praife, 
 blame, lav/, government, retribution, are conditions 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY. 55 
 
 proper to the treatment of a being who, by his ufe of 
 arbitrary figns, by his employment of complicated 
 means, and by his manifold converfions of the 
 powers of nature to his particular advantage, makes 
 it evident that he poiTefTes a faculty which, in con- 
 nection with his moral fenfibilities, renders virtue, 
 vice, praife, blame, law, government, retribution, 
 the true correlatives of his nature. 
 
 The fophifm, therefore, which would y^i;^r vir- 
 tue, vice, praife, blame, law, government, retribu- 
 tion, from human nature, contains an abfurdity of 
 precifelythe fame degree as that which would attach 
 thefe conditions to the brute. It were a folly to 
 look for arts and accomplifliments among tigers, 
 kites, {harks ; and it is an equal folly not to look for 
 them among men : it is an error of the fame mag- 
 nitude to deny that the being who builds, plants, 
 writes, and calculates, cannot work upon his own 
 difpofitions, or, in other words, is not blameworthy, 
 as to affirm that tigers, kites, and fharks might, if 
 they fo pleafed, convert their natures, and become 
 more amiable and lefs rapacious than hitherto they 
 have fliown themfelves to be. 
 
 The conjunction of the higher elements of in- 
 tellectual and moral being with the common ingre- 
 dients of animal life is beautifully developed in ob- 
 ferving the growth and expanfion of the human 
 mind from infancy to manhood. Nature, in pre- 
 paring to bring upon the theatre of the world fo 
 noble an agent as man, fteps back, that fhe may 
 
56 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 take the bolder leap, and reach a higher ftage. 
 Man, throughout the period of his infancy, is, as 
 an agent, below his fellows in the animal world. 
 It cannot be doubted that the perceptions of the 
 human infant are more confufed than thofe of the 
 young of animals \ and probably they amount to 
 nothing more than vague fenfations, conveying no 
 knowledge of the external world : its inftin6ts alfo 
 are lefs deterjninate than thofe of other new-born 
 animals ; and the mufcular force is a mere element, 
 which remains yet to be developed. The develop- 
 ment of this power feems to be efFe6^ed by the con- 
 ftitution of an immediate conne6tion between the 
 mufcular excitability and every fenfation that affecSts 
 the fenforium, whether arifing from within or from 
 without. In thefe movements there is no volition, 
 there is nothing but the mufcular contracStion, as 
 an immediate fequence of fenfation. Thus are the 
 mufcles brought into play, ftrengthened, and taught 
 to obey — inftantaneoufly, the mind. 
 
 The diftin6lion ufually made between voluntary 
 and Involuntary mufcular a6lion is clearly founded 
 upon a real difference. But then, when volition is 
 declared to be a mental procefs, confiding of fuccef- 
 five parts, a falfe fuppofition is fuggefted, as if move- 
 ments that are not involuntary were effeds of ra- 
 pidly conduced deliberations and determinations. 
 That complex procefs which, even in the adult, 
 takes place only on occafions when antagonill: mo- 
 tives are in confli£l — as when prudential or moral 
 confiderations are wreftlino- with defires — is affumed 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT, si 
 
 to be the model of all the a6ls of the mind. But 
 if we give attention to the preparation which na- 
 ture is making in the firft months of life for bring- 
 ing the machine into full play, we fhall be led to 
 think that the main bufinefs of infancy is the for- 
 mation of that habit of the animal fyftem which 
 places its movements in immediate fequence with 
 the fenfations and with the emotions. 
 
 Mobility, elafticity, promptitude, as the condi- 
 tions of mufcular action, get the ftart of the deli- 
 berative faculties j and they fo poiTefs themfelves, 
 by ufage, of the animal and the intelle6lual being, 
 that they hold through life their priority ; fo that, 
 whatever power reafon may at length acquire, man 
 ads ten thoufand times in the fpontaneous manner 
 which he learns in infancy, for once that he ads in 
 the manner which metaphyfical writers defcribe 
 when they profefs to analyze the procefs of voli- 
 tion. It is not until the power of locomotion has 
 put the pupil of nature in truft, to a certain extent, 
 with his own prefervation, and when, as its confe- 
 quence, he is brought hourly into new circum- 
 ftances, that the firft developments of reafon may 
 be obferved. By this time the fequences of events 
 fix themfelves in the memory, and give birth to the 
 expedation of like refults from like antecedents. 
 Then follow courfes of condud founded upon this 
 expedation, and thenceforward — deliberative voli- 
 tions ; and thus it is that the mental machine is faft 
 getting its wheels, one after another, into gear. . 
 
 It would be curious, and perhaps inftrudive, to 
 
58 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 trace from its beginnings that expanfion of the 
 mind which imparts to it a deliberative power, and 
 which conftitutes man a voluntary agent, in the 
 higher and proper fenfe of the term, and which, in 
 its matured ftate, carries him to an immeafurable 
 diftance beyond the inferior fpecies of fentient 
 beings. In the nurfery the hafty demands of appe- 
 tite are arrefted by maternal vigilance, and motives 
 of another kind are placed before the mind, and an- 
 tagonill: confiderations are urged upon its attention. 
 Here, then, begins the procefs of complex volition ; 
 and at that moment the being fets foot upon a 
 courfe that has no limit, and is tranflated from the 
 lower world of animal life into the higher fphere of 
 rational and moral exiftence. It is then that he is 
 introduced to the community of refponfible agents, 
 and takes up his heirfhip of an interminable deftiny. 
 
 Such of the defires as are fenfual or felfifh are 
 conftantly being brought into oppofition, rendering 
 the gratification of the one incompatible with that 
 of the other : the two kinds ftand in confli6l for a 
 moment, or more ; and whether the final decifion 
 be better or worfe, the mind is, by the mere conteft, 
 exercifmg its faculty of complex thought, and not 
 improbably admits, during the moments of hefita- 
 tion, other confiderations of a prudential or moral 
 kind, which, even if they do not prevail, yet enlarge 
 the power ofmentalcomprehenfion and comparifon. 
 
 Where education does its work efficiently, the 
 mind learns to obey the law of real or rational connec- 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY, 59 
 
 t'lon^ in the place of that of fimple fuggeftlon, and it 
 brings forward, Hke a faithful and intelligent minif- 
 ter, thofe confiderations which properly belong to 
 the occafion. This expanfion of the mind makes 
 itfelf apparent, in fome cafes, by the development 
 of the inventive faculty; and the young mechani- 
 cian, foon after the time when he has taken his 
 place among refponfible agents, is feen, in the ex- 
 ercife of the very fame faculties of abftradion and 
 of complex thought, to form conceptions of an end 
 or defign, and to fele6t the fitteft means for its at- 
 tainment. 
 
 We fhould here notice that change in the fenti- 
 ments of thofe around him which infenfibly accom- 
 panies the early development of the mind. Even 
 before this has taken place, the infant has made 
 himfelf theobje6l of complacency or of difplacency, 
 according to his original difpofitions, or his indi- 
 vidual chara(51:er ; and, before he is blamed or ap- 
 plauded^ is loved, more or lefs, not only with a love 
 of general benevolence, and not only with the in- 
 ftinclive parental fondnefs, but with a fpecific feel- 
 ing of moral eftimation. 
 
 This happens before the era of the unqueftion- 
 able development of the power of felf-government, 
 and before the child is properly deemed praife- 
 worthy or blameable, or is accounted to be ame- 
 nable to law. But after this important change has 
 taken place, a correfponding change is infenfibly 
 efFe6led in the conduit and fentiments of others. 
 
6o ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 In the firfl: place, particular a6tions are approved 
 or blamed, on the principle that now, by the ex- 
 panfion of the faculties, it has become the law of 
 his mental operations, that, in the moment of 
 action, the feveral antagonift motives that fhould 
 influence action, are, with more or lefs diftin^l- 
 nefs, prcfent to the mind. The agent, therefore, 
 is deemed to have made his choice, for the better 
 or the worfe, from among alternatives ; and it were 
 to degrade him from the rank to which he has 
 attained to fuppofe that, like the inferior orders of 
 the animal world, he did but obey 2i fingle impidfe. 
 
 This is not all ; for the agent is fuppofed to 
 have made his choice, for the better or the worfe, 
 in this particular inftance, according to his indivi- 
 dual difpofitions ; and the a6lion is approved or 
 blamed, not only as an infulated fa6l, but as an 
 indication of charadler. And then this character 
 is the object, not only of complacency or of dif- 
 placency, but o^ approval or of bla?ne. The cha- 
 ra6ler is approved or blamed on the very fame 
 principle — differently applied, and further extended 
 — which is the ground of the approval or blame of 
 particular a6lions, namely, that the now-expanded 
 faculty of the agent enables him, at once, to form 
 abftra6): notions of moral qualities — to compare 
 fuch notions with the fentiments they excite in his 
 own mind, and in the minds of others — to inftitute 
 comparifons between his own difpofitions and the 
 difpofitions which he admires or condemns in 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT, 6i 
 
 others ; and, finally, to make his perfonal difpo- 
 fitions the fubje61: of a procefs of felf-education. 
 
 That fo much as this is prefumed to be true by 
 mankind generally, is fhown by the threefold 
 treatment that is adopted with the view of amend- 
 ing the conduct and difpofitions, as well of adults 
 as of children. Firft^ rewards and punifhments 
 are employed for infuring right determinations in 
 particular inftances of condu(Sl:. Secondly^ it is 
 ufual to attempt to amend the difpofitions and the 
 chara6i:er by an external management of the ex- 
 citing caufes of the various emotions, and paffions, 
 and appetites. Thefe two methods are applicable, 
 in an inferior degree, even to animals — to the 
 horfe, the dog, the elephant. But that which we 
 name as the third method of treatment is exclu- 
 fively proper to human nature ; and its applicability 
 refts upon the fa6t, that the human mind includes 
 an element which is not granted to the brute. 
 This is the endeavour to awaken in the mind the 
 defire of reforming itfelf — that is, its habits and its 
 fettled difpofitions. This differs from the fecond 
 method — or the management of difpofitions by- 
 external means ; and it proceeds upon the known 
 fail, that an introverted effort of the mind may, 
 and does often, and under a great variety of cir- 
 cumftances, take place. 
 
 It is, we fay, the ufage of the human mind to 
 make its own a6ts and difpofitions the fubje6f: of its 
 meditations, and thefe meditations enkindle emo- 
 
62 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 tions of the fame kind with thofe that are excited by 
 the view of fimilar a6ls and difpofitions in other 
 men ; — and to thefe emotions is fuperadded a fpe- 
 cific feeling, more intenfe than the firft, and which 
 borrows its force from felf-love — becoming either 
 complacent or difplacent : in the latter cafe bring- 
 ing with it emotions of fhame, fear, and remorfe. 
 It is, moreover, proper to the human mind to 
 conceive abftra6ledly of a mode of adion, or of a 
 flyle of chara(3-er better than its own; and to 
 aflume that conception as a permanent obje6l of 
 defire. In confequence of fuch a defire, a ten- 
 dency towards it, more or lefs ftrong and uniform, 
 takes place. In this manner, amendments, refor- 
 mations, and even complete revolutions of cha- 
 ra£ler, are every day occurring within the human 
 iyftem. It fliould here be ftated that thofe dete- 
 riorations of character which are alfo continually 
 going on within the fame fyftem do not come 
 about by a correfponding procefs of the mind, or 
 as the refult of a conception of vicious qualities, 
 and a confequent purfuit of them ; for they arife 
 from the unrefifted progrefs of fenfual or malignant 
 paffions, which, by indulgence, become at length 
 paramount forces. 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY. 63 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 WHETHER this faculty ofreformation, which 
 divides man from his fellow-fentient beings 
 by an immenfe interval, muft be regarded as infcru- 
 table, or whether it admits of being feparated into its 
 components, is a queftion we may leave to be con- 
 fidered by pfychologifls : nor need it be determined 
 in its relation to morals or religion, fmce the facS: 
 of its exiftence is admitted ; and this fa6l is enough 
 for any praftical purpofe. The intelligible prin- 
 ciples of morals and Chriftian piety have no more 
 conne6tion with a fcientific analyfis than have the 
 labours of the mechanician with a theory — could it 
 be given, of gravitation. 
 
 But this power of introverted aition, which, by 
 emphafis, may be termed the excellence of human 
 nature, is often abfolutely dormant, juft as the 
 faculty of abftradion alfo lies dormant among bar- 
 barous tribes. Moreover, it is expofed to much 
 damage, and may at length be quite enfeebled, by 
 a vicious courfe of life. Man may either lie inert, 
 beneath the level of his proper deftiny, or, which 
 is a more melancholy cafe, he may^^// below that 
 level — he may revert to the moral imbecility of 
 infancy ; and he may fmk further into an abyfs, 
 where he grovels hopeleflly, and muft be content 
 
64 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 to (hare fentiments of loathing with the hog- or 
 the hyena. Sad condition this of necejjity ! — 
 miferable ruin and decay of the nobleft ftruclure ! 
 
 It fhould always be remembered, that, if the 
 a6lual condition of human nature be contemplated 
 merely as a matter of phyfical fcience, it muft be 
 admitted to have fuftained, from whatever caufe, 
 a univerfal damage or fhock ; inafmuch as its 
 higher faculties do not, like the faculties of the 
 inferior clafTes, work aufpicioufly, or in accord- 
 ance with their intention ; often — and in a vaft 
 proportion of inftances — are they overborne, de- 
 feated, deftroyed ; while in no inftances do they 
 take that full, free, and perfect courfe which is 
 abftra6ledly proper to them. We may, if we 
 pleafe, collate this phyfical fa6i: v/ith certain prin- 
 ciples of theology, and may derive from the com- 
 parifon a confirmation of our religious belief. But 
 this is not a matter that is pertinent to our imme- 
 diate purpofe. 
 
 Every new power that is admitted into a com- 
 plex machinery tends, of courfe, to multiply the 
 variations of its movements, and fo to render a 
 calculation of thofe movements more voluminous 
 or difficult ; yet not to render them at all lefs 
 caufal^ or in any fenfe fortuitous. But this general 
 principle is open to fome apparent exceptions ; as 
 thus — if the fuperadded power be of a commanding 
 fort, it will fimplify the movements rather than 
 complicate them, and fo bring them more within 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. 65 
 
 the range of calculation : inftances may eafily be 
 adduced in which the agencies of higher and more 
 complex natures are more fimple and invariable 
 than thofe of inferior beings. The mental ma- 
 chinery of the adult contains more movements, 
 and is more complex, than that of the infant ; for 
 new faculties have come into play, the materials of 
 intellectual a6tion have been vaftly augmented, 
 and many fufceptibilities have been quickened, 
 which are non-exiftent in the infant. But while 
 the actions of the infant from one moment to the 
 next may defy calculation, the actions of the adult, 
 though open to a hundred times more influences, 
 are often Amplified by the predominance of fome 
 one of them. Thus, a ruling paflion, long in- 
 dulged, fets through the foul like an impetuous 
 current, and gives a high degree of uniformity to 
 the conduct. Or a fimilar uniformity and fimpli- 
 fication may refult from the predominance of 
 virtuous emotions. Or, again, that very expan- 
 fion of the intelle6lual faculties which imparts the 
 greateft organic complexity to the machine may, 
 at the fame time, when it reaches its perfection, 
 reftore to the operations of the mind the moft 
 abfolute fimplicity. Truth is one ; and it is the 
 glory and perfeftion of the intellectual nature to 
 perceive that onenefs ; and in proportion as truth 
 is fo perceived, and is embraced, and is delighted 
 in, the agency of the being will become fo much 
 the more fimple, and calculable^ and will lofe its 
 
 F 
 
66 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 character of variablenefs. The fame is true of the 
 perfe6lion of the moral faculties ; and it may be 
 affirmed, that perfe6tion in all orders, and of all 
 kinds, tends, with equal fteps, towards fimplicity, 
 uniformity, and conftancy. 
 
 And yet what, it may be afked, can be gained by 
 applying to this fimplicity, or to this conftancy, 
 which is the very charader of perfection, any term 
 or defcriptive phrafe which, with equal or greater 
 propriety, may be aflumed to belong to the loweft 
 orders of the animal world ? There is a fenfe in 
 which it might be fo applied ; but it muft be an 
 infelicitous and ill-omened perverfion fo to do. 
 We gain, it is true, the conception of an awful 
 goddefs — ftern in feature, inflexible in temper, and 
 implacably defpotic, who rules the univerfe, and 
 who vouchfafes no other reply to fupplicants, than 
 the monotonous refponfe — Whatever is, muft be. 
 Nothing is more infallible than the connection be- 
 tween perfect intelligence, and the perception of 
 a truth prefented to it. Who could wifh to be 
 privileged with a freedom from this fort of necef- 
 fity ? To whom can this kind of defpotifm be 
 galling, or intolerable ? Nor can any but the loft 
 covet that other fpecies of liberty which excufes 
 us from the moral neceffity of taking always the 
 road of virtue. To be bound by this necejjity is 
 the true liberty ; and, in faCt, at every ftep of our 
 approach to the high ground of intelleCtual and 
 moral perfection, do liberty and neceffity merge 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. 67 
 
 and become identical ; and he is the mofl: free 
 whofe reafon and whofe volitions are the moft in- 
 variable and uniform. 
 
 But this is the point at which it becomes urgently- 
 needful tomakea proteft againft the inveterate prac- 
 tice of applying one and the fame fetof phrafes to the 
 moft extreme inftances — inftances fo extreme that 
 the interval between them is immeafurably great. 
 This fource of confufion has had its rife in that 
 controverfial ufage which has carried a fubjecl be- 
 longing of right to the philofophy of human nature 
 over to the fide of abftrad theology and of biblical 
 interpretation. In this way it has come about 
 that phrafes fuch as thofe which are repeated on 
 every page of Edwards' EiTay — "the determination 
 of the will," — " the ftrongeft motive fwaying the 
 will," — "the choice which on the whole approves 
 itfelf to the reafon," and fome others, are left to 
 lodge themfelves in the reader's mind, who believes 
 himfelf to be logically fafe when he applies them — • 
 now, to the thoufand-to-one inftances of acSlions 
 that are fpontaneous, inftantaneous, inftindive ; 
 and now, to actions of the very higheft quality, 
 wherein faculties of reafon and of feeling are com- 
 bined in the production of a refult which is a fit 
 fample at once of liberty the loftieft, with determi- 
 nations, or with infallibility the moft abfolute. 
 
 Of fuch long ftanding are thofe confufions 
 which have fprung from the interference of Logic 
 with morals and Theology, on this ground, that 
 
68 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 the only way of efcape feems to be that of pailing 
 over entirely from the region where religious feel- 
 ings and fecSlarian beliefs bear fway, to a region 
 which is wholly exempt from any fuch influences ; 
 we mean — the fphere of purely intellectual adion. 
 
 It is in this fphere that the human mind exer- 
 cifes and exhibits its powers with the moil advan- 
 tage, and it is here that it difplays what are its 
 proper forces. It is here that it gives evidence of 
 its pofTeffing a faculty of caufation, enabling it to 
 mark out for itfelf a path of difcovery over the 
 field of the material world. It is not that, on this 
 field, the human mind is exempt from the influ- 
 ence of motives^ or that it is in an impaffive condi- 
 tion ; for the impulfes which here bear upon it are 
 of the moft vivid kindj yet they are fuch as take a 
 broad bearing, imparting force at large to the intel- 
 lectual energies, while they leave individual voli- 
 tions to take their rife with abfolute freedom. 
 
 It is admitted, or it ought to be admitted, on all 
 fides, that the ultimate or innennojl fa£i in the 
 mental ftruClure is wholly infcrutable ; or that it 
 ftands on a level with thofe ultimate faCts in phy- 
 fical philofophy which are held to lie hid beyond 
 the reach of fcience : — thefe are the myfteries of the 
 material world ; and as to the world of mind, we 
 afliime nothing more than this, that it alfo has its 
 myfteries — faCts which, though they are not to be 
 queftioned, are not to be fpread out to view as if 
 more were known concerning them than is or can 
 be known. 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY. 69 
 
 If fo much as this be allowed, then our queftion 
 is this, Whether, on the field of its intelle61:ual a6li- 
 vity, the human mind does not exercife its func- 
 tions in a manner which demands an abfolute dif- 
 tin6lion to be made between it, and any fpecies of 
 phyfical caufation. 
 
 All things occurring in the material world — all 
 events that are properly phyfical — may be traced 
 up, in the order of time, to events, or to a ftate of 
 things that is anterior to the moment of their oc- 
 currence. But is it true that in the fame fenfe, or 
 in any fenfe which is intelligible, all events in the 
 world of mind are alfo to be traced upward, in the 
 order of time, to events, or to a flate of things that 
 is anterior to themfelves ? We here aflume the 
 negative, and affirm, on the contrary, the llri6tly 
 initiative adivity of mind, and affirm this to be the 
 diftin61:ive prerogative of the human mind. 
 
 Thofe things that are anterior or antecedent to 
 the ftate of the mind at any moment, or to any of 
 its volitions, are fuch as thefe : there is the individual 
 make, or, as we fay, the idiofyncracy of the man — 
 that which from birth, and under the lengthened 
 influences of education, and all circumftances put 
 together, have brought him to be juft what now he 
 is, in faculty, habit, and power : — then we are to 
 take into the account the now-prefent circle of in- 
 fluences that attradl the fenfes, or that in any way 
 bear upon, incite, ftimulate, or deprefs the mind, 
 either enhancing its powers, or producing an abate- 
 
70 £SSJrS, ETC. 
 
 ment of their energy. In a word, we have before 
 us — the individual man, and the circumftance; and 
 both, in refpe6l of the next enfuing volition, are 
 antecedent to it ; that volition being taken to be, or 
 it is fpoken of as, the efFe6l of thefe two antecedent 
 caufes, or clufters of caufes. It may be, moreover, 
 that when this volition is confidered as an effe6l or 
 refult of the two, we fail to trace what is due to 
 each, up from the produ6l to its caufe. 
 
 But now let it be granted as pofTible, or as a cafe 
 that is at leaft hypothetically admiffible, that in the 
 product there is found to be more — perhaps im- 
 menfely more, than we can, with any reafon, attri- 
 bute to either of the above-named antecedents. 
 In the produ6l there /i, what was not in the caufes, 
 either feparately confidered, or confidered in mafs, 
 or as the fum of the two. Inftances of this very 
 kind abound, and fuperabound in all departments 
 of the phyfical fciences. The product is not only 
 more than the fum, or than the multiple of the two 
 above-named clufters of antecedents, but it is of a 
 kind for which we muft make fearch elfewhere 
 than among thofe influences in refpe6l of which 
 the man is the creature of the conditions of his 
 birth, education, and prefent circumftance. 
 
 We now take an inftance. — That vaft aflem- 
 blage of conceptions and of beliefs which are em- 
 braced in the circle of the Modern Aflronomy is 
 an intellectual produ6l — it is a refult which has 
 come out of the mQdern mind, and which at this 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGY, 71 
 
 time holds a place in all inftru6led minds into which 
 it has entered by the ordinary methods of teaching. 
 This modern aftronomy may be, and it is, fet forth 
 and figured in books; and it is (ymbolized in thofe 
 elaborate mechanifms and infiiruments to which 
 itfelf has given birth, and which are its tools and its 
 aids. But now this fcheme of the ftellar and pla- 
 netary univerfe which we aflent to as, in the main, 
 true, and which we fpeak of without hefitation as 
 conformable to the reality of things — this complex 
 notion of magnitudes, diftances, revolutions, per- 
 turbations — this GREAT IDEA of fpheres, and of 
 orbits, and of velocities, whence has it come, and 
 how has it come, to fill the place which ita6tually 
 occupies in the modern mind ? 
 
 In anfwering this queftion we muft not fay, or 
 imagine, that the modern theory of the univerfe has 
 fuggefted itfelf to the human mind fpontaneoufly, 
 as if it were the obvious interpretation of what the 
 eye is converfant with in furveying the midnight 
 heavens. It is not the viftble meaning of the things 
 that are feen ; for a fuppofition the very contrary 
 of what is now known to be true in aftronomy is 
 that which the human mind has always fpontane- 
 oufly accepted. The diurnal movement of the ce- 
 leftial lamps from eaft to weft has, in every age, 
 been trufted and received as real, until Thought 
 has laborioufly revifed, and has rejedted thefe pri- 
 mitive fuppofitions. 
 
 Nor has the modern aftronomy fprung out of that 
 
72 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 current of images which is ever flowing through 
 the mind, and in refpecSl of which it, for the moft 
 part, exercifes no control. The human mind has 
 not dreamed the aftronomy which we now accept 
 as true ; it has not picked it up, as if it had floated 
 down upon the meditative ftream of unfought-for 
 images. 
 
 But now has the modern theory of the univerfe, 
 at length turned up in the evolution of an eternal fe- 
 ries of chances ? It is aflirmed that the twenty- four 
 or thirty letters of the alphabet, if thrown inceflTantly 
 during millions of years, might come up in order, 
 as a line of the Iliad ; and that the chances of 
 fome other millions of ages would give us Homer 
 entire ! If then the univerfe itfelf may be the pro- 
 duct of eternal chances, then why may not our 
 modern notion of it have fprung alfo from the 
 womb of eternity in the fame manner ? Who 
 among us fhall fay he believes this ? 
 
 We are now aflTuming that the modern aftro- 
 nomy /j, fubftantially, true. Let it be imagined, 
 then, that it has, at length, been fpontaneoufly 
 generated by the evolution of certain Laws of 
 Thought, which, as innate in the human mind, 
 are the fixed and conftant conftituents of the 
 rational nature. Be it fo ; but thefe innate laws 
 — the tendency of which is to bring the human 
 mind into conformity with the nature of things in 
 the world around us — thefe laws are themfelves 
 fubjedt, as the hiftory of philofophy {hows, to 
 
LOGIC IN THEOLOGT. -ji 
 
 countlefs and incalculable difturblng influences ; 
 and if, as now, we are thinking of the evolution 
 of fixed laws, and of nothing elfe^ and if they are 
 crofled and defle6ted by innumerable influences 
 coming in upon them from all fides, then, and on 
 that fuppofition, the probability of the coming up 
 of a TRUE ASTRONOMY, in the courfe of myriads of 
 ages, is very little, if at all, better than it is on the 
 preceding fuppofition of its fpringing out of pure 
 chance. 
 
 But there is no need, it will be faid, to have 
 recourfe to any of thefe extreme fuppofitions, and 
 which nobody would profefs to think admifliible. 
 That great fcheme of the univerfe which we de- 
 fignate " the modern aftronomy," has become what 
 it is as the refult of methods of reafoning — com- 
 plicated, refined, hypothetic often, as to its ftart- 
 ing-point, and neverthelefs irrefiftibly conclufive. 
 It is the noble achievement of the human mind, 
 labouring on the fame field — the vifible heavens — 
 age after age j often wandering far from the right 
 path, but at length arriving at a harmonious fyftem 
 which we may now fafely accept as being conform- 
 able to the reality of things. 
 
 What this reafoning is — regarded as an intel- 
 le6tual operation — this is not the place to inquire : 
 a ftricSl analyfis of it has been propounded by fe- 
 veral recent writers. It is enough here to fay that 
 it implies, at each ftep, the following, or the accept- 
 ing as true, a perceived agreement, or an accord- 
 
74 ESSJrS, ETC, 
 
 ance, whether in relation to quantities or qualities, 
 or fome fuppofed relationfhip of known caufes and 
 efFeas. 
 
 But now, if the aggregate of all human reafon- 
 ings could be brought under review, it would 
 appear that in a very large — perhaps the larger — 
 number of inftances the agreement, or the accord- 
 ance, which the mind at firft accepted as true, 
 was not fo in fa6l — the appearances were falla- 
 cious. This probability of error is known to, and it 
 is always kept in view by well-trained minds. Con- 
 fequent upon this knowledge of the fallacioufnefs 
 of phenomena, and the uncertainty of even the beft 
 methods of hypothetic reafoning, and the neceffity 
 of fubmitting all conclufions to fome teft, or to 
 many tefts — if they can be brought forward — a ha- 
 bit is formed of fupervifion, and the practice is 
 reforted to of excurfive and conje6tural advances, 
 in this dire6lion and in that — hunting, as we may 
 fay, for indications of error : hypothefes the leafl 
 likely to be true are invited, and are imagined, 
 and are queftioned, fo as that we may embrace 
 every chance of detecSling any miftaken ftep. 
 
 In explication of this revifional procefs in philo- 
 fophic reafoning — this highly-complicated method, 
 which revolves all things known, and all things 
 imaginable — we may, if we pleafe, affirm that fome 
 higher "law of thought" comes in to a6l as the 
 guide of fuch fpeculations. And yet this fecond, or 
 this more recondite law, will itfelf need another, 
 
LOGIC. IN THEOLOGY, 75 
 
 which fliall be ftill more intimate, and more recon- 
 dite, and which fhall give aid in the revifion of its 
 own operations. In a word, at every ftep of our 
 advance on this path we {hall find the need of ano- 
 ther power, or of a principle, deeper and further in, 
 and therefore lefs explicable, than the preceding 
 one. What it is which we need is that which we 
 may as well acknowledge — at the very outfet : it 
 is what we would not call " the felf-determining 
 power of the mind," becaufe this worn-out phrafe 
 has furrounded itfelf with confufions ; but it is that 
 which, in whatever terms it may be fpoken of, is 
 the prerogative and the diftindtion of Mind, in the 
 human fpecies. It is that which, becaufe it is the 
 ultimate fa6i: in human nature, is not fufceptible of 
 analyfis, and muft for ever defy our endeavours to 
 fet it forth in explicative proportions. 
 
 Apart from a candid and a modeft recognition 
 of this ultimate fa6t in human nature, we find 
 ourfelves contending, ever and anew, and to little 
 purpofe, with fome guife of atheiflic or materialiftic 
 fatalifm. The entire confcioufnefs of the intel- 
 lectual and moral nature, in every found mind, re- 
 pels and refents thefe monftrous do6i:rines ; never- 
 thelefs, fo long as we admit, in conftruCling our 
 fyftems of abftra6t Theology, thofe principles of 
 reafoning on which atheifm takes its ftand, we fhall 
 find no releafe from this warfare. 
 
 It may be demanded that we fhould adduce fome 
 flagrant inftances of this pernicious interference 
 
76 ESSJrS, ETC, 
 
 of a wordy Logic with the principles of Chriftian 
 Theology. — The name of Jonathan Edwards has 
 been prominent in thefe pages : — but now will the 
 modern Chriftian reader of his works wifti to repeat 
 the demand for inftances of this kind to be thence 
 drawn ? In thofe works — up and down, pafTages 
 occur at fight of which one ftands aghaft- ; — the 
 horror of a great darknefs comes upon the foul, 
 and it is not until long after reading them, and 
 clofmg the book, that any degree of peace of mind 
 is regained. This unfeignedly Chriftian man, 
 from the peculiar ftrucS^ure of his mind, and from 
 his training, had learned to abandon himfelf to the 
 tyranny of a wordy, demonftrative method. Come 
 what might — let all principles and all intuitions of 
 piety and moral feeling be outraged, yet if the 
 Logic be right — if each proportion hangs faft by 
 the heels of the propofition which is its precurfor, 
 — if all be fo, then a belief which is infinitely worfe 
 than the worft blafphemies of atheifts is, without a 
 doubt, to be taken to ourfelves as true ! 
 
 But has not every refidue of this puritanic The- 
 ology long ago ceafed to be thought of.? The 
 day will be bright when any fuch affirmation may 
 be uttered with truth ; for then we fhall have 
 learned to think of the Divine Nature — according 
 to Scripture ; and Chriftian Theology fhall at 
 length fpeak peace to our troubled thoughts. 
 
ESSAY II. 
 
 *The Jiate of Unitarianifm in England. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 *HE fairnefs of an indirect argument 
 may always be queftioned. What we 
 mean by an indirect argument is — the 
 drawing an inference for or againfl 
 any fyftem of behef, or any polity or fcheme of 
 focial organization, in a fomewhat circuitous man- 
 ner, from its manifefl: or its alleged confequences — 
 its progrefs, its defeats, its fortunes^ among other 
 and competing dodrines or pra6lices. 
 
 In fome cafes this mode of oblique reafoning 
 may carry with it a conclufive and irrefiftible force, 
 and may make good its claim as legitimate, in a 
 logical fenfe, by the incontrovertible validity of the 
 inference in which it terminates. 
 
 An indiredi: or inferential argument in favour o^ 
 any doctrine or fyftem, derived from its rapid fpread. 
 
78 ESSJTS, ETC, 
 
 and its actual hold of the popular mind, is always 
 very precarious, and fhould be had recourfe to only 
 as accompanied with a careful and a thoroughly 
 honeft confideration of all the circumftances of the 
 cafe. 
 
 An indirect argument, adverfe to the pretenfions 
 of a particular fyftem or polity, in like manner de- 
 mands caution, and freedom from polemical eager- 
 nefs, on the part of thofe who urge it ; neverthe- 
 lefs circumftances may attach to a particular in- 
 ftance which remove all reafonable hefitation, when 
 we are intendino- to brino- it home to thofe to whom 
 it may relate, as to the unfoundnefs of their dif- 
 tin6live principles. 
 
 Might we, without offence, take, in illuftration 
 of what we are now faying, an inftance in refer- 
 ring to which we profefs — what indeed we feel — 
 refpe6t and affecftion for a highly eftimable body 
 ofperfons — the Quakers? Let all the merits of 
 the "Friends" be fully granted, and let the large 
 amount of their benevolent achievements be put 
 down to their credit, and then we fhall be trou- 
 bled with no mifgivings in affirming that Quaker- 
 ifm — fuch as it has exifted in Endand thefe hun- 
 dred years pafl:, is a total miftake — it is not the 
 Chriftianity of the New Teftament. To fhow 
 why we think fo would lead us away from our 
 ■immediate purpofe ; nor can an argument of this 
 kind be urgently called for at a time when the rapid 
 decreafe of the body — its haftening fublimation — 
 
UNITJRUNISM IN ENGLAND. 79 
 
 feems to indicate a time near at hand when its laft 
 aged reprefentatives fhall have been lowered into 
 their graves with obfequies figniflcantly noifelefs. 
 
 In demur of an unfavourable indire6l argument 
 of this fort, fuch pleas as the following may be 
 urged : — We may fay, it is an evil world that we 
 live in ; the very pureft forms of truth are always 
 the moft vehemently reje6led ; it is, moreover, an 
 evil time — a time in which blind prejudice, pow- 
 erful corporations, fecular influences, fafhion, fa- 
 naticifm, are juft now in their hour of energy, and 
 are too ftrong for us ; we do not — we cannot prof- 
 per in the face of forces fo many and fo potent. 
 Indulgence fnould be given to thefe, and to any 
 other explanations which may be confolatory to 
 the feelings of the chiefs of unprofperous bodies. 
 But after duly liftening to them, we come round 
 to our firft aiTumption, that, in certain inftances, 
 the damagino; inference which we intend to draw 
 is valid, and is irrefiftibly conclufive. 
 
 On the part of thofe who, after a long trial, have 
 confpicuoufly failed to bring over to their viev/s any 
 large proportion of the religious community, this 
 plea meets the ear oftener perhaps than any other : 
 " That the times are unfavourable to liberty of 
 thought ; that a blind acquiefcence in old errors, 
 a reverence for antiquated fuperftitions, is the 
 predominant feeling with the religious." This 
 plea, we think, is unavailing at this time ; and it 
 ihould long ago have ceafed to be ufed. It is a 
 
8o ESSJrS, ETC, 
 
 plea inapplicable to the inftance of the prefent 
 ftate of Unitarianifm in England. It may be al- 
 leged that in no inftance can an inference drawn 
 from what we have called t\\Q fortunes of a religious 
 community be accepted as of conclufive weight. 
 We grant this j and neverthelefs return to our 
 pofition that, in certain cafes^ a prefumption, adverfe 
 to the merits of a doctrine or polity, may be fo 
 ftrong as to carry with it an overwhelming force. 
 And we think this to be the cafe in the inftance 
 now before us. 
 
 In taking a glance, as we propofe to do, at the 
 ftate of Unitarianifm in England, we firft ftep back 
 a twenty years — dated from the prefent time ; and 
 then, in a future eflay, propofe to bring our report, 
 and its inference, up to this prefent time, taking 
 account of the changes which may have had place 
 in that interval of years. 
 
 The lapfe of time, even of fo fliort a fpace as 
 twenty years, ought not to be left out of the reck- 
 oning when we have in view the a6lual, and the 
 relative pofition of a community or a party, poli- 
 tical or religious. Twenty years — or thirty — car- 
 ries us over from the era of the fathers, in their 
 maturity of thought and a6tion, to the era of the 
 fons — ^juft at the moment when they are reviewing 
 the opinions of their predecelFors, and are fore- 
 cafting their own courfe in moving on to an ad- 
 vanced pofition. The exterior afpe6l of things 
 may be much the fame — or the fame, if looked at 
 
UNITJRUNISM IN ENGLAND. 8i 
 
 haftily ; but as to the core of thought, as to the 
 inner meaning of conventional phrafes, an exten- 
 five fubftitution of one body of notions for another 
 may have taken place. 
 
 If then we afk leave to take account of twenty 
 or thirty years as materially affecting the real con- 
 dition of religious communities, with how much 
 more reafon fhould we take account of the lapfe 
 of centuries! But juft on this ground we have a 
 caufe of complaint. We have liftened to mournful 
 denunciations of the " intolerance," the " blind- 
 nefs," the " ftolid fanaticifm " of this now-paffing 
 time, which feemed to carry us back a four hun- 
 dred years. There muji be an anachronifm in any 
 fuch wailings as thefe. // is not true that in Eng- 
 land, at this time, a fair argument in behalf of great 
 principles has to encounter as much antagonifm 
 as it would have encountered in the times of the 
 Tudors. 
 
 Let us imagine ourfelves to be living in the midft 
 of the ''dark ages," when the few enlightened 
 men of that dreary time might bemoan themfelves 
 as having been born a thoufand years too late, or 
 a thoufand years too foon. Let us liften at the 
 clofet-door of one of them, and hear him uttering 
 a wail fuch as this : — " Why toil thus to explore 
 the fecrets of nature — the work of God, only to 
 earn the difgrace of holding friendfhip with the 
 devil? Who and what are thy contemporaries? 
 they are either the victims of its fottifh ignorance, 
 
 G 
 
82 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 or at once its victims and its interefted patrons ! 
 Where, unlefs it were in the midft of a wildernefs, 
 may reafon fafely utter her voice ? Mankind is 
 leagued againft light, and counts every fon of know- 
 ledge a deadly foe. Demonftration is condemned 
 as the fouleft of herefies ! The laws of nature are 
 blafphemy ! and to fet forth the wifdom of the Cre- 
 ator, is to preach the do6lrine of fiends ! And 
 the people hug the tyranny that holds them down : 
 they love their thraldom, and are prompt to rend, 
 limb from limb, the man who would difabufe their 
 underftandings ! Lucklefs man that I am ! born 
 too foon or too late : either hide thyfelf in the grave, 
 or haften to join the multitude in paying homage 
 to the fovereign folly that fits on high, miftrefs of 
 the nations !" 
 
 But from a dream fuch as this we awake. It is 
 Sunday morning, and, in compliance with whole- 
 fome ufages, we dire6l our fteps towards a place 
 of worfhip, and enter the firft that prefents itfelf. 
 The fombre exterior of the ftrudlure feems to ally 
 itfelf to the glooms of the times from which we had 
 juft emerged ; nor was the interior out of harmony 
 with the face of the edifice. Deep galleries pro- 
 trude their bulk far upon the central fpace. The 
 lower area is penfolded by pews, fecretive in their 
 intention, and fuch as feemed to typify that fec- 
 tarifm of the Chriftian community which has fo 
 long made the Church univerfal look fo much more 
 like a penitentiary than a royal banqueting-houfe. 
 
UNITARIANISM IN ENGLAND, 83 
 
 The congregation has aflembled, but the fer- 
 vice has not commenced. Dimnefs and comfort- 
 lefs folemnity reign within the facred precin6ts; 
 and we might eafily imagine that we had not in- 
 deed effected our return from the twelfth century. — 
 The congregation has aflembled. So we mufl: fay, 
 while we look from fide to fide of the defolation, 
 and defcry here, and there again, a well-toiletted 
 head, or tuft of feathers ! Such is this " holy con- 
 vocation !" Yet we fhould not omit to mention 
 a half-dozen aged penfioners, and a fcore or two 
 of liveried children, who claimed the ample fpaces 
 of the galleries as their undifputed domain. 
 
 The minifter afcends to his place ; — a fpare, 
 keen-eyed man, fedate in deportment, and farcaftic 
 in look, and yet manifefl:]y fad at heart ; — fad as a 
 man of fenfe and feeling mud be, whofe lot it is to 
 ftand, year after year, in front oi the perpetual fleet 
 and frofl:of ill-fuccefs. He gazes for a moment upon 
 the unvaried fcene — for each of his wealthy patrons 
 is in his place — and he looks as if in difgufl: of 
 himfelf, of his vocation, of his congregation, of his 
 times, and of all the world, and then announces 
 the pfalm. The prompter of pfalmody, aided by 
 a voice or two from the furthefl: corners of the 
 place, performs the joyous anthem ! Again the 
 leader of worfliip rifes, and reads, and prays ; while 
 his hearers, like fo many columns ere6l amid the 
 ruins of Palmyra, indicate by their pofltion that 
 they are not altogether unmindful of the fpecific 
 
84 ESSJrS, ETC, 
 
 fervice in which their minifter is engaged. How 
 might any one figh for the unaffected fervour of a 
 Turkifh mofque ! 
 
 The preacher takes his text, which, as it was 
 not referred to in the body of the difcourfe, has 
 flipped from our recolle6lion. The querulous, far- 
 donic, difcouraging harangue of half an hour, in- 
 fpires the belief that the minifter is preparing his 
 hearers for the announcement that the chapel doors 
 would, from that day forward be clofed, and that 
 no more fruitlefs attempts would be made to diili- 
 pate the obftinate darknefs of the age. Not fo : 
 but, inftead of any fuch feemingly difcreet refolu- 
 tion, the fanguine man, hoping againft hope, con- 
 cludes his difcourfe by declaring his convi6lion that 
 fome thoufand years — perhaps fifteen hundred 
 years hence — mankind, efcaping at length from the 
 infatuations of enthufiafm and fanaticifm, will yield 
 to the fway of right reafon, and acknowledge the 
 excellence of "primitive Chriftianity ;" that is to 
 fay, on this provifo, that Chriftianity itfelrf, which, 
 perhaps, ought always to have been regarded as 
 only a temporary difpenfation, fhould, at that re- 
 mote date, be deemed the fitteft expreflion, or in 
 any waya necefl^ary conveyance of Eternal Truths ! 
 
 But before the preacher has attained this heart- 
 warming climax, he complains heavily, and with 
 a fvvell of indignant eloquence — flightly indicative, 
 perhaps, of wounded pride — of the inveteracy of 
 vulgar prejudices — the obdurate impenetrability of 
 
UNITARUNISM IN ENGLAND. 85 
 
 notions once held to be facred — the crufhing def- 
 potifm of religious eftablifhments, which, as he 
 affirms, leave no chance of fuccefs to truth and rea- 
 fon among the great body of the people; while the 
 feds that difclaim all fuch corrupting influences are 
 maddened by fanaticifm. Things being in this 
 woeful plight, what wonder is it that the few places 
 in which the pure light of " primitive Chriftianity " 
 ftill fhines are fcarcely atall frequented ? "Such," 
 faid the preacher, willing to condole with his fad- 
 dened flock, " fuch is the infelicity of being thrown 
 upon a dark age ! an age, the glooms of which are 
 rendered only the more fenflbly dcnfe by the flick- 
 ering (and I fear expiring) taper of true knowledge, 
 which we, my brethren, ftill hold out to our times. 
 But let us remember that we are not alone upon 
 the roll of thofe worthies whofe lot it has been to 
 contend vainly againft obftinate and triumphant 
 ignorance. We are placed, in our times, juft as 
 Roger Bacon was placed in his. Or, if you want 
 illuftrious examples of this fort, think of the great 
 Albert — think of Copernicus — think of Galileo! 
 Heroic men ! they, as we, maintained in that, their 
 dark day, fublime truths, which the world, befotted 
 then as now, would not receive, though demon- 
 ftrably certain." 
 
 Nor does the preacher, whatever bright hopes 
 he may entertain of a millennium of truth at the 
 end of another millennium of error, promife to his 
 hearers any fpeedy change for the better. " The 
 
86 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 zealous efforts of the friends of primitive Chrif^ 
 tianity," faid he, " to difTeminate their opinions on 
 an extended fcale, had proved almoft an entire 
 failure. At home the congregations of apoftolic 
 Chriftians had, in ninety-eight inftances out of 
 every hundred, dwindled down to a ftate of deplo- 
 rable defolation ; and as to its progrefs abroad, the 
 fpirit of the primitive do6lrine had fhown itfelf to 
 be not expanfive : it was not a mijjionary fpirit ; it 
 won no way among the mafs of the people ; and 
 every attempt to give it circulation, after flruggling 
 into exiftence, did but ftruggle to exift." 
 
 We caught, from the tones of this comfortlefs 
 harangue, an infe61-ion of defpondency. The gloom 
 of the building, its defolation echoing the plaints of 
 the preacher, oppreiTed the imagination ; and we 
 expe£led that, on ilTuing from this dungeon of de- 
 fpair, we (hould behold the heavens overcaft with 
 blacknefs — that the midfummer's noon would be 
 ftained, as by fympathy, with the moral and intel- 
 lectual " darknefs of the age." We expelled to 
 meet, at the firft turning, fome proceflion of monks, 
 or a band of heretics on their way to the fire. In 
 a word, we thought of nothing, as we pafTed the 
 untrod threfhold of this Unitarian Apoftolic meet- 
 ing-houfe, but to fee the blood-ftained banner of 
 fuperftition floating far and wide upon the murky 
 fky! 
 
 But how cheering is the reality that wakens us 
 from this difmal dream as we gain the ftreet ! At 
 
UNITJRUNISM IN ENGLAND. 87 
 
 the very moment, twenty churches and chapels of 
 the neighbourhood are difgorging their crowds. 
 Sunday drefles and Sunday faces, illuminated by a 
 Sunday fummer (ky, give to the fcene the liveli- 
 nefs and grace that fo well befit Chriftianity where 
 Chriftianity is free, intelligent, and fmcere. Moft 
 of the faces we encounter bear that expreflion of 
 independence which is peculiarly EngViJh ; very 
 few difplay that fort of timid, crabbed, cruel dejec- 
 tion which characterizes an age of fanaticifm or of 
 fuperftition. And as the crowd is thinning we 
 meet feveral of the minifters of the congregations 
 that have juft difperfed, and they are men whom 
 we recognize as ftanding in the front of whatever 
 is free, beneficent, out-fpoken : they are men, fome 
 of them erudite, moft of them laborious in their 
 fpheres ; and of whom, fcarcely two, are highly 
 paid for their fervices. 
 
 Surely we may infer that our preacher of" pri- 
 mitive apoftolic Chriftianity" has calumniated his 
 times, and is himfelf, if not a cynic, a difappointed 
 man : forfooth, juft becaufe neither the irreligious 
 of this time nor the religious can be brought to 
 liften to his dodrine — ^juft becaufe he, being him- 
 felf in the wrong, muft give fome colour of reafon 
 to his comfortlefs condition, he mifreprefents the 
 age in which he lives, and dares to attribute to the 
 ignorance, the obftinate fanaticifm, and the inte- 
 refted fuperftition of the people of England in the 
 nineteenth century, a failure which, in fimple fad:. 
 
88 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 is nothing but the natural and the inevitable confe- 
 quenceof a fond attempt to uphold a long ago re- 
 futed argument. The complaint of the thoughtful, 
 but perfecuted man of the twelfth century awakened 
 the fympathy which is due to greatnefs unbleffed. 
 The moans of this deferted preacher kindle the 
 pity which is all that can be beftowed upon fm- 
 cere but lucklefs infatuation. 
 
 It is not eafy to imagine an occafion that more 
 fignally tries the qualities of a man, or an occafion 
 on which he may better eftablifh his claim to the 
 charader of a philofopher (taking the term in its 
 very higheft and beft fenfe) than when, as an ad- 
 vocate of unpopular opinions, he is called upon to 
 give a reafon for the failure of his zealous endea- 
 vours to propagate them. A man who can ex- 
 plain his own difcomfiture without egotifm or petu- 
 lance, and without misftatement of fa6ls, and with- 
 out fupercilious vituperations of the " vulgar," may 
 fairly challenge an elevation of foul which perhaps 
 diftinguifhesfcarcely three individuals in a century. 
 Placed in a pofition fuch as we are here fuppofing, 
 an inferior mind betrays, in one manner or in an- 
 other, its ignoble quality ; nor will it reft until it 
 has revenged its defeats by flanders; nor be fatisfied 
 even then. 
 
 But how admirable were that greatnefs of mind 
 which fhould lead one who has confpicuoufly failed 
 in his endeavours to propagate certain opinions, to 
 confefs that the circumftances and the reafons of 
 
UNITARIANISM IN ENGLAND. 89 
 
 his dlfappointment have been fuch as to imply, 
 almoft demonftrably, the unfoundnefs of his argu- 
 ment — yes — that he has been miftaken ! 
 
 Would that the ftate of Chriftianity in England 
 were brighter and better than it is ! that the great 
 mafs of the people were habitual frequenters of 
 churches and chapels ! that in all churches and 
 chapels the principal do6lrines of the Reformation 
 were plainly and zealoufly preached ! Heartily 
 may we wifli that " all bifhops and curates, and all 
 congregations committed to their charge," exhi- 
 bited, in their lives and converfation, unqueftion- 
 able proofs of their receiving largely " the healthful 
 fpirit of grace." But if things are not altogether 
 as we would have them be, dare we attribute the 
 irreligion of the times to the prefence of any ^r^«- 
 /w^^/^//Wobftru6lions or difad vantages which crufh 
 the fpirit of free inquiry, or deprive truth of a fair 
 hearing ? Who is it that dares to fay, or to infi- 
 nuate, that prieftly power fo fways and fo enthrals 
 the popular mind that the advocates of reafon are 
 cowed, browbeaten, and intimidated ? Dare we 
 affirm that genuine Chriftianity does not fpread 
 through the land, becaufe its preachers are driven 
 from the field by the hootings of endowed error ? 
 Such things mud not be faid, for they are contrary 
 to plain and confpicuous fails. There has never 
 been a fifty years in which — there has never been 
 a people among whom — a found argument has had 
 a better chance of making head againft old errors 
 
90 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 than during the laft fifty years, and among the 
 people of England within that time. Nay, during 
 the laft fifty years, at feveral moments, the popular 
 feeling in England has broken with fo ftormy a 
 force againft all ancient and prefcriptive opinions, 
 that whoever came forward to impugn them found, 
 in every market-place, a people prepared to applaud 
 and to devour his moft daring fophiftries. It is 
 indeed true that earthly pafiions and worldly inte- 
 refts now, as ever, indifpofe the mafs of mankind 
 to entertain religious truths, and fo to render the 
 religious, as compared with the irreligious, a fmall 
 minority ; but it is not true that the temper of the 
 times — fpecifically, or that political inftitutions, 
 ftand in the way of any one theological fyftem, 
 as compared with others. Piety is indeed over- 
 powered by worldlinefs of fpirit and fenfuality •<, but 
 neither Unitarianifm nor any other peculiar doc- 
 trine is fpecially difadvantaged in its ftruggle to hold 
 a place among the crowd of religious opinions. 
 
 On the contrary, Unitarianifm has had its auf- 
 picious moments — it has had its funny days. Once 
 and again it has feemed to be juft fpreading its can- 
 vas to the gale, upon a flood-tide of opportunity. 
 If there had been in Unitarianifm the vigour of 
 profperous life, it might, nay, it ?nu/l have lived and 
 profpered at fome time during the laft half cen- 
 tury.* And if, once and again, it has lapfed and has 
 
 * From 1780 to 1830. 
 
UNITJRUNISM IN ENGLAND, 91 
 
 flunk away from the high road of fuccefs, no other 
 intelligible account of the fa6t can be given than 
 this — that intrinfically it is a docSlrine of defolation 
 and decay. 
 
 What is it, then, that muft be confefled con- 
 cerning the " primitive apoftolic Chriftianity " 
 which is now preached in Unitarian meeting- 
 houfes ? Alas ! this do6lrine, which, if indeed it 
 be the Chriftianity of the Apoftles, had then power 
 to conquer all the gods, and to fet foot upon the 
 throne of univerfal empire ; now, when it is learn- 
 edly and zealoufly propounded to the moft intel- 
 ligent, the moft free, and the moft religious people 
 in the world, proves itfelf to be — what none will 
 liften to — a theory which the poor turn from in 
 contempt ! — a doftrine that infpires its converts 
 with no zeal ! — a fyftem that can neither walk, nor 
 run, nor ftand among competitors ! — a belief that 
 fcatters, not gathers ; that defolates, not blefles ! 
 — a phantom of filence, gloom, emptinefs, cold- 
 nefs, defpondency ! This is the primitive apof- 
 tolic Chriftianity of Unitarianifm ; and it is fo by 
 the confeffion of its advocates.* 
 
 * Paflages confirmatory of what is affirmed in this EfTay 
 have been drawn from authentic Unitarian publications. 
 
92 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 THE entire number of places of worfliip (en- 
 dowed and licenfed) in England, might be 
 clafTified in fome fuch manner as the following: — • 
 that is to fay, we might take, as the ground of a 
 diftincf^ion, the degree in which they are ordinarily 
 filled. The purpofe of our argument will be fuf- 
 ficiently anfwered by a fourfold divifion. Follow- 
 ing, then, this rule, the Jir/l clafs comprehends the 
 crowded ; the fecond^ the fairly filled ; the third, 
 the moderately filled ; and the fourth^ thofe that, 
 from Sunday to Sunday, round the year, challenge 
 to themfelves, in a pre-eminent degree, the folem- 
 nity which waits upon defolation ; or, in other 
 words, fuch as are occupied by the parfon, the 
 clerk, the pew-opener, and five, feven, fourteen, 
 or twenty refolute folks, who have vowed that 
 nothing, while life and limb are fpared, fhall drive 
 them from the venerable walls. 
 
 As to places of the firfl: clafs— the crowded — 
 we might exclude them from confideration on the 
 prefent occafion, as anomalous inftances, it being 
 fairly prefumable, and it is found to be fo in faft, 
 that fuch cafes of extraordinary repletion refult 
 from fpecial caufes, fuch as the peculiar attractions 
 of the preacher, his genius, his fervour, or perhaps 
 
UNITARIJNISM IN ENGLAND. 93 
 
 his fertile talent In devifing paradoxes. Here and 
 there alfo, local circumftances, fine mufic, or mere 
 fafhion, crams a place of worfhip. Be it as it 
 may, it would not be fafe to draw general infe- 
 rences from fuch inftances. The fecond clafs, or 
 the well-filled, may (with a few exceptions eafily 
 accounted for) be confidered as fo diftinguifhed 
 becaufe the religious inftrudlion which is obtained 
 in them is of a fort that approves itfelf to the con- 
 fciences of men as found, efficient, and falutary. 
 To this order belong moft of thofe churches of the 
 Eftablifhment wherein the do6lrines of its founders 
 are preached in an able and acceptable manner. 
 It includes alfo a fair proportion (perhaps a majo- 
 rity) of all Diflenting meeting-hou(es and chapels 
 in populous neighbourhoods, in which the fame 
 do6lrines (the do£l;rines of the Reformation) are 
 maintained by men of good education, good cha- 
 ra£ler, and refpe6table pulpit talents. We come 
 then to the third, and perhaps the moft numerous 
 clafs, namely, the moderately, or half filled ; they 
 are neither defolated nor flourifhing. More feats 
 are claimed or let in them than are occupied. Of 
 this fort are, firft, a proportion of parifh churches 
 throughout the land, in rural diftrids, whereunto 
 refort, every Sunday (bad weather excepted) the 
 fober folk of the parifh, who would do what they 
 do, though the parfon were to preach Iflamifm, and 
 perhaps be little the wifer, and not much the worfe 
 if he did. Secondly, under this general head are to 
 
94 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 be reckoned fome number, we fear, of orthodox 
 diflenting places, in towns and out of them, and 
 which contain a very fimilar genus of "good fort 
 of folks," better taught, perhaps, in Chriftianity 
 than fome of their neighbours of the Eftablifh- 
 ment, and decided foes of all " rites and forms of 
 worfhip which are of man's devifmg," but not 
 much more vivacious either in their intelle6lual or 
 their moral life than other people. Where fuch 
 half-filled diflenting places are furrounded with a 
 denfe population, we would undertake to aflign, 
 inftantly, the confpicuous and unqueftionable caufe 
 of fo lamentable a wafte of pew room. 
 
 Laft come the empty. It is no bull to call a 
 thing empty y whether it be box, vafe, houfe, purfe, 
 church, or chapel, which is not found to contain 
 what one reafonably expe6ts to fee within it, even 
 though there be not an abfolute vacuum. In this 
 fenfe, an e?npty place of worfhip is one in which, 
 though there is fome dozen of men, women, and 
 children, there is no congregation. Inftances of 
 very diflimilar forts come under this head ; as firft, 
 a few parifh churches, the officiating minifter in 
 which, either by his bad reputation, or his ineffi- 
 ciency as a teacher, fecures for his own voice and 
 his clerks all the advantages of folemn echo from 
 bare walls. But to whom among the fe^larifts 
 belong thefe deferted chapels ? We are prepared 
 to affirm, that an exceedingly fmall number can 
 be claimed by the orthodox dillenters of any deno- 
 
UNITARUNISM IN ENGLAND. 95 
 
 mination. Here and there, indeed, fome pitiable 
 drone, barricadoed in his pulpit by "the endow- 
 ment," and protected from public opinion by his 
 utter obfcurity, " keeps the doors " of an ancient 
 meeting-houfe "open" (to ufe a technical, and a 
 very fignificant phrafe) by his fomnific inanities ; 
 and, perhaps, on fome crowded highway, where a 
 multitude of fouls might have been faved, he holds 
 up, weekly, the glorious gofpel on a ftage, for the 
 fcofFof each Sunday ftraggler ! Inftances of this 
 fort among the orthodox diifenters are, we fay, 
 extremely rare. Who then claims the remainder ? 
 It is Unitarianifm. And in what proportion ? In 
 the proportion of ninety out of every hundred of 
 all its places of worfliip. 
 
 We muft dilate a while upon this fa£l, and again 
 recur to our clarification. If we err in particulars 
 we {hall willingly receive corredlion, and yet even 
 in that cafe we need acknowledge no detriment to 
 our argument. We believe, then, that Englifh 
 Unitarianifm has fcarcely a place that is ordinarily 
 crowded^ or over- filled. AfTuredly it has not five 
 fuch places ; and we do not hefitate to fay, that 
 nothing can be more improbable than that a 
 preacher of this clafs fhould excite that fort of in- 
 tenfe feeling which could attra6i: a throng. A 
 very clever man, or a learned one, or a man of 
 eminent perfpicacity, or of fine tafle, may adopt the 
 Unitarian creed ; but how rarely ihall we find 
 among its advocates a powerful and well-propor- 
 
96 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 tioned intelle<£l, vivified by glow^ing fenfibilities, 
 and rife with the foul of eloquence ? Unitarianifm, 
 by its reprefTive property, is forbidden to become 
 attra6live to a promifcuous multitude. 
 
 Three or four (we doubt if there be five) Uni- 
 tarian chapels in England are well filled, although 
 not crowded. But in thefe few inflances all the 
 Unitarianifm of one fide of the metropolis, or of 
 a populous manufacturing town, is brought toge- 
 ther, and makes indeed a fair fhow, if only it be 
 thought of apart from the fpace whence it has been 
 gathered. 
 
 It is a remarkable fa6l, that the fyftem of doc- 
 trine of which we are fpeaking feems not to be 
 fufceptible of any middle ftate of profperity. Uni- 
 tarian places of worfhip are either the three or 
 four, or pofiibly the five, well-filled chapels in 
 London, Birmingham, Liverpool ; or they are the 
 three or four hundred dungeons of defolation which 
 are found elfewhere. Where, in towns of the 
 fecond and third-rate fize, are the edifices that 
 bring together, on a Sunday, a fair proportion of 
 the feveral orders, namely, the opulent, the trad- 
 ing, and the poor, to liften to Unitarian do6trine ? 
 Hardly will any fuch infi:ances be met with. Uni- 
 tarianifm exifi;s either by colleCling fcattered indi- 
 viduals from large circles ; or purely by aid of en- 
 dowments, where a congregation has long ceafed to 
 be thought of. So much for o' r third clafs. 
 
 Nothing can be more fignificant than the fails 
 
UNITARIANISM IN ENGLAND, c^-j 
 
 that prefent themfelves in turning to the fourth 
 clafs, or the empty. No fe^t at all approximates 
 to the proportion which the empty chapels of the 
 Unitarians bear to the entire number. To fay 
 that, of a thoufand parifh churches taken indifcri- 
 minately in town and country, one hundred and 
 twenty-five, or one-eighth, are graced with the 
 chilly grandeur of vacuity, is, we think, allowing a 
 too large number. We doubt if the Methodifts, 
 either Wefleyan or Calviniftic, have three empty 
 chapels in a hundred ; the Baptifts may perhaps 
 claim five or ten in the fame number ; the Inde- 
 pendents three or four ; the Quakers fifty, or 
 more. But by their own ftatements, ninety-eight 
 Unitarian chapels in every hundred are defolate. 
 Yet, as our argument is of a general kind, and is 
 quite independent of nice calculations, we are 
 willing to fuppofe that ten in a hundred own a 
 congregation ; nay, let it be twenty ; let it be faid 
 that not more than four-fifths of the Unitarian 
 pew-ground is a defert. Here then we might 
 flop. We fhould be content to leave the inference 
 to every man's common fenfe. Moft afTuredly, 
 were we Unitarians, we fhould accept the fa6ly 
 under the circumflances which belong to it, as 
 a fufficient proof of the badnefs, or, if not fo, at 
 leafl of the hopelefiriefs of the caufe. If Unitarian 
 chapels are empty, it is not becaufe " this is an 
 age of darknefs and fanaticifm," it is not becaufe 
 Unitarians are liable to imprifonments, confifca- 
 H 
 
98 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 tions, fines ; but it is for the fimple and the fatis- 
 fa(5lory reafon that, with the Bible on the pulpit 
 cufhion, it fails to make good its pretenfions — the 
 mafs of the people being judges. 
 
 It is ufelefs to flinch from fo confpicuous an in- 
 ference. Chriftianity has, indeed, often been 
 crufhed, or been beaten out of a country by force 
 of arms, and cruel perfecutions ; or it has expired 
 amid the general decay of learning, or in the ab- 
 fence of political fecurity, or in the decline of 
 national life. We mourn in fuch cafes this extinc- 
 tion of the living power, yet we cannot marvel. 
 But what ought we to think, and what are the 
 appalling furmifes which muft come in upon the 
 heart, if it fhould appear that Chriftianity, in its 
 pure and its primitive form — Chriftianity, which 
 was announced as a blefTing to the poor, and to the 
 multitude — yet, when it is proclaimed among an 
 enlightened people, in an age of freedom and of 
 intelledlual a6i:ivity, can gain no hearing ? What 
 if we fee that this " Apoftolic do6trine," entering 
 upon a congregation which had been fairly taken 
 from all ranks, prefently fcatters it — retaining no- 
 thing of the good things upon which it laid its 
 hand, excepting the endowments, and the defolated 
 walls ? And what if thefe things take place again, 
 and again, and yet again ? Is there no fignihcance 
 in fadts fuch as thefe ? 
 
 But now, in proof and illuftration of our alle- 
 gations, we muft bring together a number of ad- 
 
UNITARUNISM IN ENGLAND, 99 
 
 miffions which we find fcattered through feveral 
 numbers of a work that is the recognized organ 
 of this Denomination.* 
 
 " Our chapels are but thinly attended, and our 
 intereft but flow in progrefs. Perhaps, if we ad- 
 vert to the increafe of population in thefe king- 
 doms, we muft not fpeakof progrefs, but of retro- 
 gradation." 
 
 " From the efforts of mifHonaries," fays the 
 writer, " let us turn to the a6tual condition of 
 our congregations. Thefe we may divide into 
 two clalTes, the ancient and the modern : thofe we 
 have received from our predecefTors, and thofe 
 created by the prefent generation. Of many of 
 both clafTes the tale is brief and mournful. There 
 are a ^qw of the old chapels, fituated in large and 
 flourifhing towns, in which congregations worfhip, 
 refpe£lable both as to numbers and chara61:er. 
 From the narrow fphere of the Unitarian view, 
 however, thefe are greatly overrated. Everything 
 is fmall or great by comparifon. To a child, a 
 houfe of fix rooms is a manfion ; to Unitarians, a 
 Briftol or a Manchefler audience is magnificent ! 
 But let thefe half dozen flouri/hing congregations 
 be deemed of as highly as we will, ftill fix prof- 
 perous focieties out of fome three hundred is a 
 fmall proportion. We do not mean to intimate 
 
 * The Monthly Repofitory for the time to which this 
 Eflay relates. 
 
100 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 that all the reft are dying or dead — far from it. 
 There is a large middle clafs which fupports a 
 healthy appearance ; but many of the old chapels 
 among us are in a pitiable ftate. Of our own 
 knowledge, we can fpeak o\fo?nef cores that fcarcely 
 fhow fignsof life. The number of hearers in them 
 will not average more than thirty^ the falary of the 
 minifter not more than feventy pounds per annum. 
 Few beings are more to be pitied than a Unitarian 
 minifter, placed in one of thefe focieties. A man 
 of education, with the miferable pittance of fome 
 ieventy pounds per year, which, with much toil 
 and folicitude, he tnay perhaps, but not in all cafes, 
 raife to a bare hundred. With this he has a wife 
 and children to fupport, and a decent appearance 
 to maintain. Nor is this inflgnificant fum to be 
 obtained without fundry and conftant vexations 
 from truftee influence and truftee domination. If 
 animated by a laudable wifti to extend the boun- 
 daries of his pafture, the minifter is encountered 
 by coldnefs and oppofition. The poor v/ho attend 
 his fervices would gladly lend their countenance 
 and aid; but the great man, who is alfo the keeper 
 of the purfe, frowns the intention down. On other 
 occafions, the minifter is checked in his purpofes 
 for want of pecuniary aftiftance, or by the engage- 
 ments and vexations of a fchool. There are many, 
 very many of our minifters in this condition. Men 
 of talent, education, and lofty moral feeling, are 
 fuftering for the caufe of truth, and, by reafon of 
 
UNITARUNISM IN ENGLAND, loi 
 
 others' unfaithfulnefs, in remote villages and de- 
 clining towns, fufFering in a way and to an extent 
 that nothing but moral ftrength and the force of 
 principle could enable them to fuftain. Imagine 
 thefe men placed in fituations fitting to call out 
 their powers, to fan the flame of their piety and 
 zeal, to reward with a competency their labours, 
 and how different would be their condition and 
 their chara6ters ! In the a6lual cafe, however, how 
 much of moral power is thrown away ! how much 
 of intelleftual excellence is loft ! and for what ! 
 To re-ena6t the ftory told in Mr. Wright's narra- 
 tive of his miflionary life and labours — to conduct 
 in decency a few fexagenarians to the grave, and 
 then to clofe the doors ! Let us not be fuppofed 
 to jeft with the fubje6i: ; it is too ferious, and too 
 true, to admit of a fmile. If this is not the pro- 
 bable end of no ^Q^^r of the old Prefbyterian chapels, 
 we are yet to learn what other fate they can in all 
 probability undergo. The queftion, then, is eafily 
 folved, whether or not it is worth while to facriiice 
 fome of the excellent of the earth to fuch an ob- 
 jetSl ? Can fuch a confummation be avoided ? Not 
 in the a6lual ftate of things. But if the Unitarian 
 body would rife to a fenfe of its duties, and to a 
 manly advocacy of the caufe of truth, the moft 
 defirable change might be efFe6ted : but of this 
 more anon. 
 
 " Equally grieved are we when we contemplate 
 the Condition of the congregations which have been 
 
102 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 raifed within the laft fifteen years. Many chapels 
 have been built ; how few are adequately attended ! 
 If it were not an invidious tafk, we could eftablifh 
 this afTertion by the mention of a6lual inftances. 
 Doubtlefs there arefome of our young focieties that 
 promife to furvive, a few that flourifh, but many 
 of them are ftruggling hard for exidence. In nearly 
 all of them the minifter is in a condition little bet- 
 ter than thofe are who are attached to the former 
 clafs. From what has been faid, it is evident that 
 the caufe of Unitarianifm in thefe kingdom.s, as far 
 as its condition may be eftimated by the numbers 
 who conftitute its congregations, is by no means 
 in a fatisfa6lory flate. 
 
 " We dare not hope that the kingdom of Chrift 
 is advancing under our aufpices. The world around 
 us islyinginwickednefs. The home of the majority 
 of our readers is furrounded by many who are in 
 the gall of bitternefs, being enflaved by fm ; and 
 what healing ftream have we recently fet to flow, 
 what light have we kindled to cleanfe and illume 
 our fufferino; fellow-men ? Our neighbourhoods 
 are inceffantlyincreafing; the young fv/arm around 
 us on every fide ; thofe of riper years arife in 
 crowds. Where is there, on our part, an increafe 
 of exertion, an augmentation of moral energy, to 
 meet the growing demand ? Alas ! the general 
 efFedl of the thickening of the population is to hide 
 from public view the temples devoted to our wor- 
 {hip, to hide our candle under a bufhel, and to re- 
 
UNITARIJNISM IN ENGLAND. 103 
 
 ftricSt the moral influence which we exert. How 
 long will thefe things be ? Have we arrived at the 
 loweft point of depreilion ? May a change for the 
 better be expelled ? All things, we iterate, are in 
 our pofTeflion, requifite to exert a moft healing and 
 efficient influence on our fellow-men, all but the 
 great mover, the life and foul of action — the will." 
 Not a word of comment needs be fubjoined to 
 thefe quotations ; we leave the inference to every 
 man's good fenfe, and purfue our intention a page 
 or two further. 
 
 SECTION HI. 
 
 FAR fhouldwe be from intending to infult the 
 unhappy ! Neverthelefs, we muft fay fome- 
 thing of a cafe which appears to be Angularly un- 
 defirable, whether it be regarded in a fecular or in 
 a fpiritual light — we mean that of more than four- 
 fifths of all the preachers of Unitarianifm in Eng- 
 land at the prefent time. 
 
 In fpite of pride, in fpite of reafon, in fpite either 
 of abftraft principles or of internal fatisfaci-ions, 
 every man (or all but madmen and enthufiafts) 
 efteems his own pofition in fociety very much as 
 he perceives it to be efteemed by thofe around him. 
 To fome extent, a man is happy who is thought to 
 
104 ESS ATS, ETC, 
 
 be fo, and wretched if he knows that the world 
 pities or condemns him. If this be not a univerfal 
 truth, it is a general one. Now it is granted that 
 a faithful Chriftian minifter, the fervant of God in 
 an evil world, is called, at times, and in peculiar 
 fituations, to bear up againft the general contumely 
 of mankind, and is compelled to recollecSl: the real 
 dignity, and the high importance, and the future 
 honours of his office, in order to fupport himfelf 
 under the fcorn of a licentious or of a gainfaying 
 world. Something of this fort may happen even 
 in our own enlightened and religionized country. 
 Much more does it happen to the Chriftian mif- 
 fionary, as he urges his difcouraged fteps daily 
 through the crowded ways of an idolatrous city ! 
 But in fuch inftances a wife and good man, al- 
 though, as a man, he feels oppreffively the weight 
 of the circumambient fcorn of his fellows, never- 
 thelefs readily turns to confiderations which fuf- 
 tain his courage. He recolle61:s, for example, the 
 immenfeand confpicuous fuperiority of the religion 
 he bears with him over that which he impugns. 
 Then his thoughts fly homeward, and he remem- 
 bers that the docStrine which is fcorned by the men 
 of India is honoured by the men of England ; or 
 his meditations carry him back to the ages of the 
 primitive triumphs of the Gofpel, or forward to the 
 millennium of its univerfal afcendancy. Thus he 
 rebuts contempt by aid of reafon and of faith. 
 We are willing to grant that, unlefs he can bring 
 
UNITARUNISM IN ENGLAND. 105 
 
 home to his heart, often, and without queftion, a 
 large meafure of fuch meditative comfort, a Chrif- 
 tian minifter who ftands, from youth to age, in 
 the centre of a circle of defolation, is one whom 
 we fhould deem efpecially miferable. In how 
 great a degree the deferted Unitarian preacher (and 
 fuch are, as it appears, eighty, or more, in every 
 hundred) mayfuftain his fortitude by abflracSl me- 
 ditations, or by diftant hopes, is a queftion we fliall 
 not attempt to folve ; but, inftead of this, we ftiall 
 examine a little more clofely his a6lual pofition. 
 And firft, for its moft palpable item — his pecuniary 
 remuneration.* That his income is fmall, and that 
 it is incapable of much augmentation, he does not 
 complain of, for this is a difadvantage which he faw 
 diflin6tly before him when he devoted himfelf to 
 the miniflerial calling, and which he fhares with 
 too many of the clergy of all denominations, of 
 whom, perhaps, a majority are very inadequately 
 recompenfed for their fervices ; but there are pecu- 
 liar circumftances attaching to his falary which muft 
 make him who receives it feel himfelf humiliated 
 in exifting on fuch terms. Not like the poor 
 curate,or the incumbent, whoreceives a fum which 
 the law gives him, and who, fo long as he dis- 
 charges certain duties, is as well and truly entitled 
 to his tithe or his ftipend as the fquire is to his 
 rents ; nor like the poor DifTenting minifler among 
 
 * Written in 1830. 
 
io6 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 the orthodox re6ls, who fubfifts, though hardly, in- 
 deed, upon the free-will offerings of a needy flock, 
 cheerfully rendered to the man of their hearts ; not 
 fo; forthe pittance on which thechildren of the Uni- 
 tarian minifter fo barely live has been obtained for 
 him — mufl- we not fay it, wrongfully ? — his income, 
 or three- fourths of it, is derived from the perverfion 
 of a teftamentary grant. Fifteen fhillings in every 
 twenty muft burn his palm as he takes them, if he 
 be a man of keen fenfibility. The thirty, fixty, 
 hundred pounds per annum ^ which, if it be not the 
 whole of his falary, is that on which his continu- 
 ance in his place abfolutely depends, had been def- 
 tined, by the puritanic donor, for the maintenance 
 of a do6lrine which the man who receives it is 
 always labouring to impugn. Sad pofition ! hard 
 fervice ! The minifter who flands in a pulpit under 
 fuch conditions might well, as he glances at the 
 tablet dedicated to the memory of the munificent 
 dead, imagine that he hears the " ftone out of 
 the wall" uttering the reproachful taunt, " He who 
 eateth of my bread hath lifted up his heel againft 
 me!" 
 
 But we will fuppofe only (and it is far below the 
 average of inftances) that not more than one-third 
 of the Unitarian minifter's falary proceeds from a 
 perverted endowment : whence come the two- 
 thirds ? Not, as we have faid, from the collected 
 pence or fhillings of four or five hundred hearers, 
 who, in fparing fo much, fpare their utmoft, but 
 
UNITJRUNISM IN ENGLAND. 107 
 
 from feven or eight, or a dozen, deep and grudging 
 purfes, upon the brims of which a covetoufnefs is 
 written that utterly condemns the Chriftianity of 
 the holders. Six or eight handfome equipages con- 
 vey weekly the fupporters of the chapel to its doors, 
 but each fets down a grudging contributor to their 
 minifler's income. Unhappy man, who pines upon 
 a hundred pounds, in part wrefted from the infulted 
 dead, in part wrung from the relu6lant living ! 
 
 We hardly need adduce fpecific evidence in fup- 
 port of thefe aflertions. Neverthelefs, the inftances 
 being univerfally known, we do no wrong in bring- 
 ing forward a pafTage or two from authentic fources, 
 which bear upon this point. A Unitarian writer, 
 after affirming that " Unitarians are, for their num- 
 bers, the richeft body of religionifts in the king- 
 dom, and contribute leaft to religious objects," 
 goes on to fay that — 
 
 "'The full evidence of this aflertion is not ad- 
 duced till it be ftated, that perhaps one-half of the 
 infignificantftipendspaidto their minifters proceeds 
 from the charity of preceding ages. We do not, we 
 think, over-eftimate the amount of endowments in 
 polTeffion of Unitarian truftees. In many inftances 
 the whole of the falary proceeds from endowments ; 
 and though the minifter is obliged to unite two 
 arduous profeffions in order to find the means of 
 a humble fubfiftence, or, where a fchool is not at- 
 tainable, is obliged to live on the very edge of po- 
 verty, and, though there is one or more perfons in 
 
io8 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 his flock of ample and fuperfluous means, yet the 
 utmofl that is done by voluntary contributions is 
 the raifmg enough to defray the expenfes of open- 
 ing and cleaning the chapel ; and we have known 
 inftances in which any extraordinary outlay, arifing 
 from repairs or the delivery of lectures, has been 
 fubftracSled, either wholly or in part, from the mi- 
 nifler*s pittance. In other cafes not the whole, 
 but a part — generally the chief part of the tiny fum 
 received by the minifter — proceeds from endow- 
 ments. A few inftances there are in which no 
 endowment is pofleiTed ; and we declare it as our 
 convidion, that the focieties where this is the cafe 
 are in general the moft flourifhing. And nov/ then, 
 we freely and heartily fay, that we wifh that all the 
 endowments pofTefled by our body were irretriev- 
 ably funk to the bottom of the ocean. Other de- 
 nominations, poorer than we a hundred-fold, have 
 them not, and flourifh : we have them, and we 
 languifh. They have been, they are an incubus to 
 our caufe, and the orthodox could not do us a 
 greater fervice than to wreft them from our hands." 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 BUT we turn to the other fide of the Unitarian 
 minifter's pofition. Amid his pecuniary hu- 
 miliations, can he folace himfelf in contemplating 
 
UNITJRIJNISM IN ENGLAND, 109 
 
 the fuccefs of his fpiritual labours ? Can he derive, 
 from the manifeft efficiency of his miniftrations, a 
 confolation which reconciles him to his melancholy- 
 lot ? He, and he alone, upon the fuppofition of the 
 truth of the Unitarian fyflem, holds in his hand that 
 potent engine which, a while ago, overthrew tem- 
 ples and afcended thrones, and vanquifhed the na- 
 tions. What does it achieve in his hands ? We 
 put this queflion to his candour. Thefe are not 
 the days of myftiflcation — thefe are not the days in 
 which a man may hide fads from himfelf and from 
 others by vague and unmeaning declamation. We 
 afk, then, the Unitarian minifter to tell us, and let 
 him tell us as if he were giving evidence before a 
 dozen plain men, what does he fee, within his par- 
 ticular fphere, of the power of the Gofpel ? Let 
 him anfwer, firft, in reference to the numbers 
 whom he ftatedly addrefles, and then as to the ap- 
 parent benefit which is derived from his inftruc- 
 tions by thofe that hear him. 
 
 Or, if an inference from fingle inftances be dis- 
 liked, let us look at Unitarianifm (this only genuine 
 Chriftianity) as it ftands in the country at large, and 
 viewed as an inftrument of national virtue. We 
 afk aloud. Is Unitarianifm, with all its chapels, 
 worth, to the people of England, as an actual means 
 of effecting a general reformation of manners — is 
 it worth the revenues of the pooreft of our bifhop- 
 rics ? Is it worth the falaries of a fcore of excife- 
 men ? Nay, tell us plainly, is it worth anything I 
 
no ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 If all the Unitarian chapels in England were let to- 
 morrow for penitentiaries or for warehoufes, would 
 the aggregate virtue of the Englifh people exhibit, 
 in the following year, any appreciable deteriora- 
 tion ? Indeed, we think not. 
 
 How cheerlefs, then, and how comfortlefs, are 
 the endeavours of each fingle labourer, when the 
 worth of the aggregate labour of all is too diminu- 
 tive a thing to be meafured or reckoned ! How de- 
 plorable is the lot of a man who not only is unfuc- 
 cefsful in his particular fphere, but who, on looking 
 round among his colleagues, far and near, fees ninety 
 of them, out of every hundred, in the fame difmal 
 predicament — hopeleffly unfuccefsful ! How fhall 
 he defend his bofom againft the inroad of the moft 
 heart-fickening of all convidtions that can fmite the 
 human bread — the conviclion of toiling through 
 life fruitleflly ? 
 
 This thriftlefs labourer meets in fociety thofe 
 with whom he fet out on the courfe of life ; each is 
 alert (if not all fuccefsful) in the purfuit of interefls 
 the promotion of which, though private, is the pro- 
 motion of the commonwealth and general prof- 
 perity ; but he, although not lefs well-educated than 
 they — more fo, probably — not lefs intelligent, not 
 lefs capable of achieving fuccefs by energy and 
 talent — he, although perhaps pofieffingan advantage 
 over his fellows in fome of thefe refpe6ls,yet floats 
 for ever upon a flagnant pool, in the waters of which 
 nothino: moves — over the furface of which not a 
 
VNITARIANISM IN ENGLAND, in 
 
 living thing will flit! They — the companions of 
 his boyhood, are ploughing, fowing, and reaping; 
 he Is ever fowing — fowing fterlle fands, that are 
 watered only with briny tears of defpair ! Once In 
 the round of feven days he bends his fteps, heart- 
 fallen and fick of the profitlefs ufages of devotion, 
 to his chapel. No glillening eyes of the poor and 
 afHidted, whofe hearts he is to cheer, watch his 
 approach ; no joyous founds of cordial univerfal 
 worfhip are to greet his ear. The few are in their 
 v/onted places. Would he were left to indulge his 
 melancholy mufmgs in folitude ! He delivers the 
 appointed couplets of " adoration ;" of the few 
 worfnippers, a ^qw only refpond. He reads the 
 Scriptures ; but of thefe one verfe in every five 
 ihocks his faftidious tafte, or afks a crooked criti- 
 cifm, to turn afide the edge of its obvious mean- 
 ing. He prays : yes, he prays ; but who Is it that 
 joins him ? Do not the more knowing of his flock 
 inwardly difallow the folemn Impertinence which 
 afliimes that there is any efficacy in prayer? None 
 but the fimple believe In It. He preaches : he 
 utters — fo he fays — the foul-wakening do61:rine of 
 immortalIty,fl:rippedofevery corruption, and there- 
 fore, by neceflaryconfequence, potent to reform the 
 profligate, and to fpiritualize the earthly-minded ! 
 Preacher! fhow to the world the roll of your a6fual 
 triumphs ! The week's work Is done, the congre- 
 gation is difmifl^ed, and the functionary returns to 
 his home ; and, as a public per/on^ he feels himfelf 
 
112 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 an infulated being. Laden with care, he is a fine- 
 curift, unconnected with the multitude of men 
 either by relationfliip of fecular utility, or by the 
 bond of fpiritual fympathy, or by the part he takes 
 in any efficient labours of Chriftian beneficence. 
 
 "The Unitarian" — we quote an authority — 
 " is an infulated being. He ftands apart from the 
 reft of his fellow Chrillians. If he has focietyout 
 of his own conne6lion, he muft feelc it with thofe 
 who believe lefs, not morethanhimfelf: ifhewifhes 
 to be friendly with the orthodox, he is looked upon 
 with diflance: if to join in their benevolent plans, 
 with avoidance : if to re6i:ify their errors, with 
 horror. He can find his way neither to their head 
 nor their heart. The public fervices of his temple 
 they avoid, as they would a lazar-house. He is 
 cabbined, cribbed, and confined on all fides : his 
 days are fpent in ina6tion, and his charities are nar- 
 rowed by reafon of reflraint. He is a ftranger in 
 a ftrange land, having a peculiar language, a pecu- 
 liar fpirit, a peculiar creed. . . . What wonder their 
 compofitions and addrefles are cold, when the au- 
 dience is fmall and lukewarm ? What wonder their 
 affedions are dull, when the atmofphere in which 
 they live is heavy and fluggifh ?" 
 
 But we are compelled to fay a word more of the 
 infelicity of the lot of a Unitarian minift er. We 
 fuppofe him to be, as many of them unqueftion- 
 ably are, a man of benevolence, and a man of in- 
 telligence ; and he is one who is accuftomed to 
 
UNITJRUNISM IN ENGLAND. 113 
 
 look at the progrefs and profpecSls of fociety in a 
 broad and philofophical light. We afk fuch a one 
 then in what way he thinks the miflionary labours 
 of the prefent age will be regarded by pofterity ? 
 Say, that thefe endeavours to convert the pagan 
 world fhall for the prefent fail, and be abandoned ; 
 or fay that they fhall profper, and fhall ailually 
 ufher in a glorious univerfality of the heavenly doc- 
 trine ; we care not now which of thefe fuppofitions 
 is afflimed. Take the former ; and, if it fhould be 
 fo, will not the men who are now carrying their 
 lives in their hands into the depths of barbarifm be 
 reckoned among the moft courageous of philan- 
 thropifts ? Will fmall praife be theirs in the lips of 
 the Chriflians of diftant times ? Who dares think 
 otherwife than that, even although their immediate 
 labours fhould be almofl fruitlefs, the men fhall be 
 honoured as heroes of mercy ? They have done 
 what they could. 
 
 But let us take the fecond, and brighter fuppo- 
 fition ; and does it feem an extravagant one, that 
 the coflly effort which is now in progrefs for evan- 
 gelizing the heathen world fhall profper and fpread 
 itfelf, and fhall go on conquering, as truth conquers 
 delufion, until all nations have come to bow the 
 knee to Chrift ? At the moment of the climax of 
 fuch a fuccefs as this, we afk, whether the lot of 
 thofe who flood foremofl in the enterprife, and 
 who fuftained the forrow of initial difcomfitures, 
 will not feem to have been enviable ? We afk, 
 
114 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 whether the men who, on this fuppofitlon, may- 
 claim to have been the promulgators of a new dif- 
 penfation of mercy to mankind, will not be named, 
 and be thought of, as among the moft illuftrious, 
 and the moft favoured of the human race? 
 
 Fully we believe that, to the eye of future times, 
 the fcenes, the a£lions, the perfonages of the pre- 
 fent evangelical warfare fhall ftand forward as thofe 
 fcenes, and acSlions, and perfonagesof the age which 
 are the moft worthy to fix the gaze of the men of 
 after ages. And who is it would wifh to be alto- 
 gether fevered from the glories and the labours of 
 the miiTionary work? Not for fceptres, not if the 
 material univerfe and its flaming funs were the 
 bribe, fhould a man choofe to ftand off" from the 
 miflionary enterprife. Not for an immortality of 
 earthly fatisfadlions ftiould any one be content, 
 either to confefs the guilt of an inward indiff'erence 
 to the miflionary work, or, feeling himfelf alive to 
 its fucceflTes, be fettered and held in inaction by the 
 indifference of the party to which he belongs. 
 
 But is not this fanaticifm ? Let him who calls 
 it fo come forward and make good his allegation. 
 The hope and the zeal of the evangelical com- 
 munity is not the lefs built upon fubftantial reafon- 
 ing, even if it has become loud and eager. 
 
 What part then has Unitarianifm in the blef- 
 fednefs of the miflionary work ? By the miflionary 
 work we mean — not the profelytizing at home from 
 other perfuafions, but the veritable evangelizing of 
 
UNITJR lANISM IN ENGL JND, 1 1 5 
 
 heathen or Mohammedan nations. A work emi- 
 nently becoming a great and Chriftian country ; a 
 work from which no Chrijlian man, now that it 
 is a6lually in progrefs, can be content to ftand, 
 either excufed or excluded. 
 
 " There never was a fyftem," fays a Unitarian 
 writer, " which was fo general in its regards, 
 which bore fo invafive a character, as Chriftianity 
 
 in its earlieft days Every preacher was 
 
 a miflionary, going about doing good, fent, and 
 glorying in his office, to proclaim the acceptable 
 year of the Lord. We are fure, therefore, that the 
 fpirit of miilions is the fpirit of Chrift and of Chrif- 
 tianity." Or, to ufe the language of the fame 
 writer in another place : " All muft acknowledge 
 that Chriftianity is fitted for profelytizing, for in 
 this way it gained its firft and its faireft triumphs. 
 If, then, Unitarianifm be, as fuppofed^ unfit for this 
 work, it is not the truth as it is in Jefus, and the 
 fooner we are rid of it the better." 
 
 So indeed we fay. But with this implied in- 
 ference, fignificant as it is, we have nothing now 
 to do : we leave it to thofe whom it concerns. 
 Firft, for the fadts of the cafe, which are foon 
 enumerated. The Unitarians, by their own fhow- 
 ing, are the only holders of " primitive apoftohc 
 Chriftianity ;" — of Chriftianity " uncorrupt, ra- 
 tional, vital." Whatever, therefore, of intrinfic 
 power or expanfivenefs belongs to the Gofpel, 
 muft belong, by eminence, to the Gofpel when it 
 
ii6 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 is thus difengaged from all human additions. Of 
 all forms of the do(5lrine of Chrift, Unitarianifm 
 muft be the moft energetic, inafmuch as it is the 
 moft pure ; nay, as it is the only pure. Moreover, 
 Unitarians poflefs all the requifites for giving effect 
 and exprefEon to that apoftolic zeal w^hich burns 
 in their bofoms. " Latent power," we are told, 
 " they have in abundance ; moral charader, intel- 
 lectual worth, and worldly affluence, — none of 
 thefe things are wanting." In truth, we are af- 
 fured, with a folemn iteration of the unqueftionable 
 fad, that the Unitarians are, for their numbers, 
 the richeft body of religionifts in the kingdom. And 
 we muft fay, that if they are not, in fad, the moft 
 nu?nerous^ as well as the moft wealthy body of reli- 
 gionifts, they have had a fair chance of becoming 
 fo, if indeed this had been pofTible. Why fhould 
 not "primitive apoftolic Chriftianity " have fpread 
 itfelf in England, during the fame years, as widely 
 as Wefleyan Methodifm ? We cannot tell why ; 
 unlefs we were permitted to fay, that Unitarianifm 
 is an impotent dodrine. 
 
 And now for the refult, which we may give, 
 firft in general terms, and then in fpecific details. 
 And in doing fo, we ftiall confine ourfelves to au- 
 thentic Unitarian documents. 
 
 Referring to the modern mifTionary zeal, which, 
 in its fubftance, our authority applauds, he confefTes 
 that " Unitarians have not moved forward with 
 the general mafs." " There is a deadnefs in many 
 
UNITJRIANISM IN ENGLAND, 1 1 7 
 
 of our moft ufeful inftitutlons, a flatnefs and apathy 
 in regard to religious matters, too frequently pre- 
 vailing among our lay brethren." Or, to come 
 nearer to the matter in hand : — 
 
 " The miflionary labours of the Unitarian Aflb- 
 ciation during the laft year, muft be pronounced 
 an almoft entire failure. Three miflionaries" (that 
 is to fay, itinerants at home) " have been employed, 
 
 and they have been employed nearly in vain 
 
 The miffions " [itinerancies) " conducted by the 
 young men at York College, have been from time 
 to time diminifhed, till now they have, with the 
 exception of that to Welburn, little more than a 
 name to live.'* 
 
 Again : — 
 
 " Throughout the kingdom, the refult of the 
 miflionary labours undertaken by Unitarians of 
 late, has been a difappointing one. How happens 
 this ? Chiefly, we doubt not, becaufe the fpirit of 
 Unitarians in this kingdom, is not the miffionary 
 fpirit. Very many are hoftile to miffionary exer- 
 tions, and efpecially the more rich and influential. 
 The focieties that have been and are, have ftrug- 
 gled into being, and ftruggle to exift. They have 
 in fome inftances been formed by a kw^ m oppo- 
 fition to the will of the many; while the many 
 looked on in apathy or fcorn. The propriety of 
 their exiftence has been gravely queftioned ; the 
 overture for aid to maintain them, met with a fmile 
 of aftonifhment ; while almoft ip every inftance, 
 
ii8 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 thofe who afFe6l to give the tone to others, and 
 who unfortunately have had but too much influ- 
 ence, have not only kept aloof from, but fpoken 
 warmly againft them. In a word, the current of 
 fafhion has been, and ftill is, of an anti-miffionary 
 hue. Miflionary exertions have been denounced 
 as vulgar, as interfering with the harmony and 
 polifli of refined and mifcellaneous fociety." 
 
 With a fmgular naivete.^ after making thefe 
 ominous confeflions, the writer goes on : — 
 
 " There may be fome who think that the caufe 
 of the failure of our miiTionary labours is to be 
 found in the unfitnefs for profelytifm of the tenets 
 which we hold. If this opinion was well founded, 
 a ftronger prefumption of the falfity of Unitarian- 
 ifm could not be imagined !" 
 
 This maybe evidence enough, in relation to our 
 prefent purpofe, but we add a fentence or two, 
 drawn from the fame fource. 
 
 " The inftitutions that exift among us for the 
 promotion of the great purpofes of religion, are 
 few in number, and languifhing for the moft part 
 in operation. Even the Britifh and Foreign Uni- 
 tarian Aflbciation itfelf, though fo catholic in its 
 objecSls, fo judicious in its exertions, and inheriting 
 from its predecelTors — the Fund, fo honourable and 
 well merited a reputation, has by no means met 
 with the general and hearty co-operation that it 
 deferves." 
 
 " The Gofpel, they " (the orthodox) " argue is 
 
UNITJRUNISM IN ENGLAND. 119 
 
 of infinite value. The Unitarians are fufficiently 
 indifferent about it : little do they to put others in 
 poffeflion of its bleflings. How can they duly 
 eftimate its value, or have the fpirit of Chrift ? 
 Nay, may they not even difbelieve that which they 
 are by no means anxious to further?" 
 
 " In confequence of the want of co-operation, 
 our inftitutions and our caufe want fpirit, activity, 
 and energy ; and the orthodox look on, and be- 
 holding how much we are at eafe, how quiefcent 
 we each are, how little alive to the fuccefs of any 
 obje6l, and efpecially how lukewarm about the 
 falvation of our fellow-creatures, judge that there 
 muft be fomething radically wrong in our fyftem ; 
 a cooling and chilling influence, which breathes 
 not from the pages of the Gofpel." 
 
 So much for the general ftatement of the anti- 
 miflionary temper of Unitarianifm. What are the 
 fpecific fa6ls which have compelled Unitarian 
 writers to make confeflions fuch as thefe ? 
 
 " But the moft painful cafe of failure yet remains 
 to be noticed. India, the firft field of our mif- 
 fionary exertions in foreign lands, — India, whofe 
 fpiritual welfare awakened an intereft in the breads 
 of many of the moft enlightened and pious men of 
 America, as well as England, — an intereft which 
 exhibited the Unitarian body in the moft pleafing 
 attitude that it ever aflumed ; India, which with 
 the name of its wife, learned, and benevolent 
 Brahmin, gave the faireft promife of an eventual, 
 
120 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 though perhaps a tardy harveft ; this country, 
 which had excited our own hope more, perhaps, 
 than any other fpot, America excepted, is now 
 without a Unitarian miffionary and the means of 
 Unitarian worfhip ! But we corre6l ourfelves ; 
 we do wrong, in fo faying, to that excellent and 
 perfevering man William Roberts. We were 
 thinking, in writing the above, of Mr. Adam." 
 
 It would be altogether irrelevant to our purpofe 
 to adduce the pretty well-known hiftories of the 
 individuals above alluded to. Let the labours of 
 William Roberts at Madras, or elfewhere, and the 
 defun6l efforts of Mr. Adam at Calcutta, carry all 
 the importance that can poflibly attach to them, 
 and let them be held available for the defirable 
 purpofe of convi6ting any man of mifreprefenta- 
 tion, who (hall be fo hafty as to affirm that Uni- 
 tarians have attempted, or are attempting, nothing 
 for the difFufion of Chriftianity among the heathen ? 
 Far be it from us to advance any fuch calumnious 
 predication ! By no means ; the Unitarians have 
 William Roberts at Madras, and they had Mr. 
 Adam at Calcutta ! 
 
 But we turn to an account of an annual meeting 
 of the " Britifh and Foreign Unitarian Aflbciation," 
 the obje6l of which is the diffufion, at home and 
 abroad, of the unfullied light of rational, liberal, 
 primitive, and apoftolic Chriftianity. From the 
 ftatement of the treafurer, it appears, that (not- 
 withftanding a " falling off of donations and collec- 
 
UNITARUNISM IN ENGLAND. 121 
 
 tlons") the "moil: opulent body of Chriftians in 
 England" raifed during the year, the fum of" one 
 thoufand and odd pounds," for the furtherance of 
 their pious intentions ! The expenditure has con- 
 fifted of — I. The charge for purchafing and print- 
 ing books, namely, £454 15s. lid. 2. Upwards 
 of £300 expended on congregational and miflionary 
 objeds at home; and 3. (let Chriftendom hear 
 it ! ) two hundred and fifty pounds^ on account of 
 the Foreign Fund ! 
 
 Yet even this large adventure for converting the 
 people of India — rather for difFufmg Unitarianifm 
 among the Englijh of Calcutta, fuch is the fa6t — 
 did not efcape animadverfion as an improper diver- 
 fion of the funds of the AiTociation from the field 
 where they were more needed. And though the 
 obje6lor allowed, that, the Calcutta miflion, having 
 been commenced, they were " bound to endeavour 
 to make the beft of it," he was far from admitting, 
 and none of the fpeakers affirmed, that Unitarians 
 fhould think of entering boldly as competitors with 
 the orthodox on the high courfe of foreign evan- 
 gelization. And yet, why fhould they not do fo ? 
 What obftacle ftands between Unitarians and the 
 great pagan world ? What, unlefs it be Unitarian 
 indifference ? Why would it be imprudent to ori- 
 ginate fome eight or ten millions to Africa, India, 
 and the iflands of the Southern Sea, but becaufe it 
 is utterly abfurd to fuppofe that any fuch a6l of 
 religious charity would be fupported or approved 
 
122 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 by the Unitarian body ? It is a miflionary age, 
 and the miflionary fpirit is allowed by Unitarians 
 to be eminently proper to Chriftianity ; and yet 
 Unitarians neither go forth to preach the Gofpel 
 themfelves, nor do they fend others ! 
 
 We are bound, however, to view this matter of 
 foreign miffions as it is viewed by Unitarians ; 
 and we learn from the higheft authority, that Uni- 
 tarians, while calmly fitting at home in their empty 
 chapels, are wont, with a benevolent eafinefs of 
 feeling, to congratulate themfelves and their party 
 on the fuccelTes of orthodox miffions ! How com- 
 fortable a thing it is, if, while others are doing our 
 work for us, we may fnore away in feed-time, fure 
 as we are that our friends will give us the jog 
 v/hen the harveft is all ready to be houfed ! Now 
 this, we learn, is precifely the pofition of Unita- 
 rians at the prefent moment. The orthodox, in 
 the intemperance of their fanatical zeal, are labour- 
 ing to convert the world. Yes, but the Unita- 
 rians, when the world (hall be everywhere con- 
 verted, are to fill their garners with the fheaves ! 
 Hear one of them : — " I fee multitudes (^oing our 
 work^ whilft they imagine they are acting againfl 
 us. They are preparing the way for that fimple 
 fyftem of Chriftianity which we profefs." In the 
 fame enviable temper of undaunted hope, the 
 fpeaker goes on to comfort himfelf and his col- 
 leao^ues as follows : — " When I fee numbers of 
 
 o 
 
 churches building throughout the country, my firft 
 
UNITJRUNISM IN ENGLAND. 123 
 
 impreffion is, how error is fupported ! But when 
 I look further, I confider that they are all building 
 for us !" By the way, would it not be more 
 feemly for Unitarians to talk of filling their own 
 chapels now^ than of filling orthodox churches a 
 hundred years hence ? Meantime, and while com- 
 pelled to confefs that by far the larger number of 
 their places of aflembly are fallen into a condition 
 of "deplorable defolation," the announcement that 
 "all the new churches" are building for Unita- 
 rians, is likely to awaken grim fufpicions in the 
 minds of fhrewd Unitarian laymen — men of the 
 world. 
 
 On another occafion the fame intelligent and 
 eftimable man tells us that " thofe who have exa- 
 mined the work of Mr. Ellis on the South Sea 
 Iflands, the Polyneftan Refearches^ may perceive 
 that in them the principles of Unitarianifm are 
 eflentially taught !" Let us liften to and digeft 
 this afTertion. As we muft not think of it as an 
 inftance of fheer effrontery, it muft ftand as an 
 example of enormous infatuation. What do we 
 mean when we fpeak of a man's being driven to a 
 miferable fhift ? Something furely like this : — A 
 leader of Unitarianifm is called upon to make an 
 animating fpeech at a public dinner ; it comes in 
 his way to allude to the miflions of the prefent 
 day ; but thofe around him well know that Uni- 
 tarians have nothing to do with thefe Chriftian 
 enterprifes : what remains then for him to fay 
 
124 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 about them ? Why this : that the preachers of 
 the do6^rme of the Trinity are " eflentially teach- 
 ing the fimple principles of Unitarianifm !" 
 
 Such are the fa6ts. Let them for a moment be 
 viewed in that light in which they will appear to 
 pojflerity, on the fuppofition that Unitarianifm is 
 Chriftianity. In that cafe it will ftand on the page 
 of Church hiftory, for the aflonifhment and fcandal 
 of all thoughtful minds — -fi^Jh that the fanatical 
 and deluded profefTors of a corrupt and idolatrous 
 creed were the men to originate, and perfeveringly 
 to carry on, the truly Chriftian enterprife of turn- 
 ing the nations from their fuperftitions ; and that 
 in this enterprife they were confpicuoufly recog- 
 nized and profpered by Heaven. Andifecondly^ it 
 will appear, that the only Chriflians (fuch in a- 
 genuine fenfe) of this miffionary age, were alfo the 
 only men who took no part in the work ; that of 
 thefe " true Chriftians," the majority openly op- 
 pofed the undertaking, " looking upon it with 
 apathy or fcorn," and " meeting an application for 
 aid with a fmile of aftonifliment ;" in fuch fort that 
 the confeflion was wrung from the chiefs of the 
 party, that " the fpirit of Unitarians " (the only 
 Chriftians) " is not a mijjionary fpirit^'' and that 
 they are "fufficiently indifferent whether other 
 men and nations partake of the bleflings of the 
 Gofpel or not !" Thefe are the fa6ls which are 
 even now going down to pofterity. Upon the 
 unalterable page of hiftory it is even now being 
 
UNITJRIANISM IN ENGLAND. 125 
 
 written, that the attempt to propagate Chriftianity 
 has been fcorned and denounced by the only men 
 of the times who, according to their own account, 
 poflefs the do6lrine of Him that faid, " Go ye out 
 into all the world, and preach the Gofpel !" 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 TO infifl at length upon the inference bearing 
 againft the pretenfions of Unitarianifm, as 
 furnifhed by this ftate of things, is not our imme- 
 diate purpofe. But we fay, that the man upon 
 whom the edge of that inference falls, is, if con- 
 fcious of its force, one of the moft unhappy of his 
 fpecies ; or, if not, he is one of the moft infatuated. 
 We will take up the only two fuppofitions that the 
 cafe admits of: either the Unitarian minifter is 
 himfelf indifferent to the propagation of the Gofpel; 
 or being zealous for it, he finds himfelf one of a 
 party that by none of his eloquence can be roufed 
 to give him any aid. Take the firft of thefe fup- 
 pofed cafes. It is true, that a layman, who has 
 nothing to do with religion but to fit his hour once 
 a week in his pew, may be very tranquil, and very 
 well fatisfied with himfelf, even in the confciouf- 
 nefs of an utter deftitution of Chriftian zeal; but 
 it can never be fo with a public fun6tionary ; no- 
 
126 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 thing can render the weekly performance of reli- 
 gious fervices before a fmall and lifelefs congre- 
 gation, by one who is himfelf devoid of zeal, 
 otherwife than infufFerably burdenfome ; — nothing, 
 or we ought to fay, nothing but large or fecure 
 fecular advantages. For the fake, or, to ufe a 
 phrafe proper to a mercantile tranfacSion, for the 
 confideratiQ7i of a thoiifand per annum^ or of even 
 two hundred pounds abfolutely unalienable, a man 
 may courageoufly bear himfelf through the irkfome 
 formalities of public worfhip. Not fo the needy 
 man, who, if he difpleafe his employers, may be 
 difcharged from his pulpit, and lofe his morfel of 
 bread. To fuch a one, difheartened and anxious, 
 the confcious want of religious zeal in himfelf, and 
 the fight of the confpicuous inefficiency of his per- 
 formance, will be enough to affli6l him with an un- 
 utterable difguft. And a tenfold force will belong 
 to this inward mifgiving, in times like the prefent. 
 We are not mifunderftanding the invariable prin- 
 ciples of human nature, when we fay, that the 
 zeal, and the difinterefted activity, and the felf- 
 denying diligence, and the gladfome excitement, 
 which are now ftirring among the better part of 
 the clergy of all denominations (Unitarians ex- 
 cepted) muft prefs as an adverfe power upon the 
 felf-condemned heart of the man who feels him- 
 felf alive to no kindred emotions, and who can take 
 no part in all that is around him. We repeat it, 
 that a minifter of religion, confcioufly deftitute of 
 
UNITJRUNISM IN ENGLAND. 127 
 
 zeal, who might have been contented, or at leaft 
 tranquil, fifty years ago, can now do nothing but 
 abhor the profeflion to which he finds himfelf tied. 
 But let us look at the other fuppofition — the 
 cafe of a Unitarian minifter, who, like the writer 
 from whom we have made frequent quotations, 
 feels, in all its force, the unqueflionable truth, that 
 Chriftianity is elTentially an invafive, expanfive 
 do6lrine ; he confefTes that fomething, nay, much, 
 muft be wrong in its profeflbrs, if their fpirit be 
 not a miilionary fpirit ; he admits, that thofe (what- 
 ever errors they may fall into) who are actually 
 going forth to preach the Gofpel to the heathen, 
 are moft happily, moft confidently, moft nobly 
 employed ; he cannot but grant that, though fcofi'ed 
 at by the fcofFers of their times, poflerity will do 
 them juftice, and will call them the mofl heroic of 
 philanthropifts ; nay, that Heaven will confefs them 
 as its fervants ; he would fain, fpite of the corrup- 
 tions to which they adhere, take part with them 
 in their labours : he fteps forward, but his compa- 
 nionftiip is avoided ; (and it muft be fo.) Thofe 
 who are zealoufly propagating the Gofpel of God, 
 their Saviour, will fhrink with fear from contact 
 with the impugner of its capital dodtrines ; (they 
 muft fo draw back.) Rejected, he turns towards 
 the men of his party. He fees them affluent and 
 well-informed ; but, alas ! utterly deftitute of any 
 motive powerful enough to command labours, fuf- 
 ferings, or contributions in the caufe of the Gofpel ; 
 
128 ESSAYS, ETC, 
 
 or worfe than this, they are farcaftically hoflile to 
 the " vifionary and ufelefs crufade of the times." 
 Scarcely one lay Unitarian in a hundred confefTes 
 to be animated by a zeal like his own ; and nothing 
 could be more prepoflerous than to hope that the 
 party at large fhould be moved to bring forward 
 their twenty or fifty thoufand pounds yearly, for 
 the fupport of a religious undertaking. What but 
 an utter defpondency, what but an anguifli of for- 
 row, can belong then, in this age of religious zeal, 
 to the zealous Unitarian minifter ? What can be 
 added to the difcomfort of his lot, unlefs it be the 
 dark furmife which naturally fprings from the per- 
 plexity of his pofition, and the faintnefs which that 
 perplexity forces on his heart? After all, muft 
 he be tempted to fay, is this Chriftianity, which 
 proves itfelf to be potent only when it is corrupted, 
 and which invariably becomes effete when it is 
 pure i is it worth the fpending of life, fortune, 
 family welfare, talents, reputation, in its fervice ? 
 Why occupy a life in attempting to purge the fe- 
 culence of a fyftem, which, whenever it is tho- 
 roughly purged, lies motionlefs as a corpfe ? Does 
 Heaven indeed demand fo large a facrifice to fo 
 little purpofe — to no purpofe ? Racking and in- 
 terminable queftions ! wretched condition of inex- 
 tricable doubt ! Rather than endure it, it were 
 better to plunge into the oblivious flood of uni- 
 verfal fcepticifm. Purfue but a few fteps further 
 the path of difbelief ; rejed altogether this cum- 
 
UNITJRUNISM IN ENGLAND, 129 
 
 brous, fupernatural fcheme, and then, although 
 perplexities enough may ftill hang in the way, they 
 are no longer the peculiar burden of individuals. 
 They darken, indeed, the path of humanity, but 
 they do not reft as a reproach, and a fnare, and a 
 curfe, upon a fmgle head ; they are no longer the 
 fcandal of him who, with lucklefs prefumption, has 
 aflumedoffice among men as the interpreterof God. 
 We have now only to repeat whai we have 
 ventured to affirm, that, viewed on every fide, 
 fecular, profeffional, and fpiritual, the lot of an 
 Englifh Unitarian minifter is at this time pre-emi- 
 nently undefirable ; and we affirm it fo to be on 
 this ground, that he ftands in a falfe pofition, and 
 is devoting life, intelligence, acquirements, and 
 many eftimable and ferviceable qualities, to the 
 hopelefs talk of upholding a fcheme of religious 
 dodlrine which makes no way, and which, while 
 it is too incoherent, as related to the Scriptures, to 
 win the approval of the people at large, is too much 
 entangled with the fupernatural to gain any favour 
 with philofophical unbelievers. 
 
 In this efTay we have fpoken of the ftate of 
 Unitarianifm in England — fuch as it was thirty 
 years ago. In another eflay we propofe to inquire 
 what changes itfelf has undergone in this lapfe of 
 time, and what has now become its relative pofi- 
 tion as compared with other religious communities, 
 and with the national progrefs. 
 
 K 
 
ESSAY III. 
 
 2\filus : — The Chrijlian Courtier in the Defert. 
 
 'REASURES, convertible to the pur- 
 pofes of Chriftian edification, as well 
 as of entertainment, are yet entombed 
 in the folios of the patriftic litera- 
 ture. But if it be fo, why have not thefe riches 
 been made more generally available for the benefit 
 of the Chriftian community of thefe times ? This 
 is a queftion which it is natural and reafonable to 
 afk, and for an anfwer to which we need not go 
 far. The reader of this Eftay, for one, and the 
 writer of it for another, may each of us find it in 
 or among his own prepofTeffions, his preoccupa- 
 tions — whether theological or ecclefiaftical : or let 
 now the reader and the writer be quite candid and 
 confidential — for no one is liftening at the door ; it 
 is in your prejudice, kind reader, perhaps, and in 
 mine, that we muft look for the obftru(5lion which 
 fhuts us out from the enjoyment of an inheritance 
 whereupon otherwife we might forthwith enter — 
 an inheritance left to us by our predeceflbrs in the 
 Chriftian life. 
 
NILUS. 131 
 
 If, in opening the voluminous records and re- 
 mains of the Chriftian life of the early ages, I feek 
 to enhearten myfelf for a labour fo arduous as is 
 implied in the perufal of this mafs, by help of fome 
 new-born zeal in behalf of this or that religious 
 whim, or fuperftition, or fe6larian belief — if I do 
 this, I fhall gather, as I go, the chafF — I fhall leave 
 untouched the precious grain. Afluredly there has 
 been a genuine Chriftian life in each fucceffive age ; 
 but it was not at all the life which I am pleafed to 
 think of, and which I am looking for, and which 
 I am refolved to find in my folios, whether it be 
 there or not. It has been a life which was new 
 to each age that has developed it for itfelf, but 
 antiquated in relation to the following ages, each 
 of which develops its own: it has been a life which 
 we fhould not prefume to call life, if we did not 
 believe it to contain thofe fpiritual rudiments that 
 are unchanging and eternal — that are the fame 
 yefterday, and to-day, and for ever; — a life where- 
 with we may well hold communion now, and into 
 the heart of which we may fafely make our way ; 
 yet on this one condition, that we put off, for a 
 time, our polemical eagerneffes — that we lay afide 
 our weapons and our jackets of iron, and enter, in 
 a fubdued mood of mind, as if we were ftanding 
 and trembling — one foot on the threfhold of that 
 general aflembly and univerfal concourfe of the 
 faithful of all times which is gathered in prefence 
 of the Judge of all. 
 
132 ESSJrS, ETC, 
 
 Let then the reader give me his hand, in a kindly 
 manner, for half an hour or fo, and I will do my 
 beft to lead him right away into the midft of Chrif- 
 tian life — fuch as it was in the fifth century. 
 
 It is true that the materials before us, in this 
 particular inftance, are not very ample ; but yet 
 they are more fo than in many analogous inftances; 
 and what is better, they are more fpecijic than are 
 moft others, and (apparently) they are more genu- 
 ine and truftworthy than moft. In opening them 
 we are not offended by exaggerations and childifti 
 abfurdities ; we are not invited to gaze at a puppet- 
 fhow of wonders ; we have to do with fheer hu- 
 man nature — with its keen fenfibilities, with its 
 vividnefs of feeling, as difplayed in times of hope 
 and of fear, and all, powerfully moulded under the 
 energies of a firm Chriftian belief 
 
 What we gather from his own extant writings, 
 and from the brief notices of contemporary or later 
 writers concerning the perfonal hiftory of Nilus, 
 is foon reported ; it does not need to be condenfed. 
 
 This good man, to whom we would not choofe 
 to apply his conventional defignation, " the holy 
 Father and Abbot, Nilus," is reported to have 
 been of noble birth in Conftantinople, and to have 
 occupied, as due to his pofition in fociety, a high 
 place, opening to him the honours and wealth of 
 public life and official dignity in the metropolis of 
 the Eaftern Empire. And this pofition might be 
 irrefpe6live of his perfonal qualifications for the 
 
NILUS, 133 
 
 difcharge of its duties, or even of his individual 
 w^ifhes or ambition. For a time he filled the 
 place of Prefect of Conftantinople, but v\^hether 
 this was for years, or only for months, is not 
 known ; yet it was a time long enough to con- 
 firm in him the long-cheriftied purpofe to releafe 
 himfelf from every fecular diftradtion (if fuch a re- 
 leafe might indeed at any price be obtained) and to 
 follow the yearning of his foul toward the peace- 
 giving enjoyments of the anchoretic life, far — far 
 from the haunts of men. It was thus that, amidft 
 the pomps and din of the metropolis of the Eaftern 
 world, and the barbaric glitter of its court, and the 
 revelries of its effeminate and voluptuous nobles, 
 and, moreover, as furrounded by the revolting de- 
 baucheries and the hypocrifiesof the religious orders 
 of thofe times — it was as thus placed that he pic- 
 tured to himfelf the heaven-like delights of the con- 
 templative life — life in the defert — life properly 
 fo called ; — the day fpent in the fliadow of a great 
 rock ; by night, a fufficient fhelter from the dews 
 of heaven found in a cleft or cavern of the fame, 
 or in the cool recefles of an abandoned fepulchre ! 
 Holy Scripture his only book and his conftant 
 ftudy; the companionfhip of fome like-minded with 
 himfelf his folace ; his few bodily wants,how eafily 
 fhould they be provided for ! herbs, and a morfel 
 of the coarfeft bread, how content fhould he be 
 with fuch fare ! and how well pleafed thus to dine, 
 and thus to bring himfelf quite near to the incor- 
 
134 Essjrs, Era 
 
 poreal liberty of angelic exiftences ! Who, or who 
 that is wife, would not choofe, nay, would not ear- 
 neftly covet, the lot of thofe who thus pafs the ap- 
 pointed days of their fojourningon earth, and thus 
 breathe an untainted atmofphere, and thus make 
 the clear vault of heaven their roofing by day and 
 by night ? How much better were this, than to fit 
 long hours, naufeating the fumptuous dainties of 
 royal banquets, in the imprifonment of imperial 
 halls and of hollow ceremonies — a gueft in thofe 
 halls, enchained by the falfe and irkfome ufages of 
 rank and office ; loving no one ; juftly fufpicious 
 of every one; loved by none; envied by all — might 
 not a wife and Chriftianly-minded man think the 
 tranquil lot of the life-long captive in the imperial 
 dungeon beneath his feet a happier lot ? True it is 
 that the perifhing and defpicable body of the pri- 
 foner is enchained ; but then the fpirit, how free 
 may it be ! The heart is at eafe, or may be fo ; the 
 tongue alfo is enchained, entombed in that pit ; 
 prayer and praife may arife, where none are at hand 
 to rebuke thefe utterances of the foul fent heaven- 
 ward with a force that penetrates the maffive vault ! 
 Yes ! the prifoner in the dungeon, far down be- 
 neath the marbled pavements of the palace, may be 
 envied by him who paces it, laden with the baubles 
 of that falfe exiftence to which he is bound. But 
 in truth there is no neceffity for making a choice 
 in an alternative fo extreme as this ; conditions far 
 lefs fevere, are they not at my option ? Liberty 
 
NILUS. 135 
 
 and life, and the near neighbourhood of the unfeen 
 world, may they not be found and enjoyed in the 
 defert? Shall I not then haften thither? Why 
 poftpone this felicity a day ? At fome fpot in the 
 depths of thofe holy folitudes where the Eternal 
 Majefty awhile ago held converfe with His chofen 
 fervants, there will I feek, and there fhall I find 
 that peace which the world denies, and which, in- 
 deed, it has no power to beftow — and does not 
 beftow, even for an hour. So it came about that 
 the courtier, the magiftrate, refolved to fpend his 
 refidue of days — in the wildernefs. 
 
 Neverthelefs, in the way of this refolve there 
 flood oppofed obligations which he dared not ab- 
 ruptly violate. He mufl difengage himfelf from 
 them by aid of that fort of flow and pain-giving 
 procefs which we infli6l upon ourfelves when it 
 happens that the gratification of fome wifti or tafte 
 which, abftra6ledly confidered, we believe to be 
 lawful, or even commendable, is forbidden us by 
 homely reafons of duty and of Chriftian virtue. The 
 wifh, the whim, the tafte, crouches, on fuch occa- 
 fions, within the foul, filent and motionlefs, aflured 
 as it is that it fhall not in the end be thwarted ; fure 
 as is the beafl of prey of its vidim, feen to be now 
 trembling at the cave's mouth. But there mufl 
 firfl take place, and with a fair femblance of honefl 
 reality, an outfide parley with the unwelcome re- 
 monflrances of duty — with the outcry of nature, 
 and with the plain meaning of the Divine law, — 
 
136 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 fo it was with this Chriftian man at this crifis of 
 his life. 
 
 NiLUS had a home, as well as a feat among 
 princes ; he was a hufband and a father. A wife, 
 a fon, and a daughter* are not to be thrown off as 
 eafily, or with as little compunction, as what he 
 would feel in laying afide his robes of office. Him- 
 felf and his wife were at this time ftill in mid-age 
 — fo we muft infer from the terms which he em- 
 ploys in excufmg to himfelf the refolution he had 
 formed. The feparation, he fays, was noiu me- 
 ritorious — it was an a6l worthy of the Chriftian 
 athlete ; but if it were much longer delayed, what 
 praife could it then deferve ? The refolve was 
 therefore formed ; and how to carry it out with 
 the leaft poffible expenditure of fruitlefs feeling was 
 the only queflion. For this purpofe he afTumes an 
 afpe6l of immovable fixednefs ; his words are few; 
 his tones are thofe with which he might have been 
 ufed to pronounce fentence of death upon one from 
 whom he would, mercifully, cut off all hope of par- 
 don. He takes his children by the hand (the fon a 
 youth juft rifing from boyhood), he commends the 
 daughter to her mother's care, and then announces 
 his purpofe to depart with the youth for the Ara- 
 bian wildernefs : — a ftern purpofe, refolutely ac- 
 complifhed. How far it was wifely done it is not 
 
 ♦ A daughter : we muft fo read the text, and not two 
 fons. The narrative demands this verfion. 
 
NILUS. 137 
 
 now in thefe pages our bufinefs to inquire. Yet it 
 was not done in apathy on the fide of the hufband, 
 for he was a man of keen fenfibihty, as appears 
 from the narrative ; much lefs was it fubmitted to 
 on the part of the wronged wife and mother with 
 indifference. In this inftance we hear of no plea 
 of" incompatibility of temper," which might ferve 
 to gloze an immoral a6l, and to render the parties 
 more than acquiefcent in the feparation. If the 
 hufband felt what a man feels who undergoes am- 
 putation, the wife yields to the iron refolve of the 
 hufband, and gives him, in floods of tears, her 
 formal acquiefcence, without which the Church of 
 thofe times would not have fan(5tioned the adt; and 
 fhe fmothers her fruitlefs forrows, and hides her 
 enforced widowhood, with her daughter, in an 
 Egyptian convent. 
 
 But now we remind ourfelves of our intention 
 in this effay — which is not that of holding up to 
 warrantable reprehenfion the miftaken notions, the 
 fallacious reafonings,the dangerous, though fpecious 
 practices of an age gone by. This we do not mean 
 to do ; we take the things which we find, whether 
 they be altogether approvable or not fo, and we 
 look at them in kindly mood, much as we are ac- 
 cuflomed now to think and to fpeak of the whims 
 and the flrange notions of fome eftimable Chriftian 
 friend of whom we are wont to fay, " I quite dif- 
 allow my friend's notions, and I fmile at his pecu- 
 liarities i but when I have faid this, and I muji fay 
 
138 ESSATSy ETC, 
 
 it, then I will acknowledge that I often admire, 
 and would gladly imitate, his lofty and yet lowly 
 Chriftian temper, his elevation of fpirit, his felf- 
 denial, his fmglenefs of purpofe, his labours of 
 charity." 
 
 Thus it is, then, that we now make acquain- 
 tance with our anchoret — once a magiftrate and 
 prince. To revert, for a moment, to the initial a£i: 
 of his afcetic courfe — this feparation from his wife. 
 It fhould firft be mentioned that, according to the 
 notions and the ufages of the Church of thofe 
 times, this was the inevitable condition of entering 
 upon the " religious life," either in the anchoretic, 
 or the conventual mode — a final cefTation of con- 
 jugal intercourfe, a renunciation of the domeftic 
 exiftence muft be made, or there could be no upper 
 clafs Chriftian exiftence. This being underftood, 
 then let us turn afide for a moment, and make 
 fearch, in our own hearts, for thofe motives which 
 might, in that age, or indeed in any other, but efpe- 
 cially in that age, prompt a purpofe of feparation. 
 Our hypothefis in this inftance is this — that it is 
 not a cafe of apathy, or of mutual wearinefs, or of 
 '' incompatibility of temper," but of vivid fenfibility 
 and fmcere afFe6lion, tender and warm on both 
 fides. This is our hypothefis ; and then our prin- 
 ciple is an uncompromifing difapproval of any fuch 
 diflblution or abrogation of the conjugal union ; 
 thofe reafons — if there be any, by which it might 
 be made to appear in any cafe warrantable, muft be 
 
NILUS. 139 
 
 peculiar indeed ; and the exceptive Inftances muft 
 be forare as to excufe our taking account of them. 
 
 The one bright fpot on the broad furface of the 
 human fyftem — that Illuminated area outfide of 
 which, in all directions, things are only In different 
 degrees fombre — is that home circle within which 
 reign love and duty — conjugal, parental, filial ; — and 
 thefe, blefTed, as they may be, by the influence of 
 a vivid and genuine Chriftlan faith. Thus blefTed 
 and thus ruled alfo, the domeftic life yields a clearer 
 and more convincing evidence of the Divine benig- 
 nity than could elfe where be found, though we were 
 to fearch the upper heavens for a better inftance. 
 
 But now let another, and yet not a contrary, 
 deep truth be admitted — for It could avail us no- 
 thing to "cloke or dlfTemble" what cannot be de- 
 nied : our other truth Is this — that the life feen and 
 temporal, and the life eternal are at a jar, and that 
 this jar — this misfitting, makes itfelf felt moft fen- 
 fibly juft when each is at its higheft pitch of per- 
 fection in Its own fenfe. Abate each of thefe in- 
 tenfities a little — bring down each to a mean level 
 — a degree or two below the "fettled fine" to 
 which each afpires to rife — and then the jar is 
 fcarcely felt; there is then little or no confciouf- 
 nefs of It In thofe concerned. What we fhould 
 mean In faying this might otherwife be worded. 
 Take the inflance of a hufband and a v/ife, each 
 of them afFedtlonate, amiable, wife In temper, and 
 difcreet in behaviour ; but of a rate of fenfibility 
 
140 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 lefs than the higheft, a devotednefs of the heart lefs 
 than the moft abfolute, a depth of foul that is lefs 
 deep than an abyfs. Take, at the fame time, a rate 
 of religious feeling which, in about the fame pro- 
 portion, is abated or tempered ; and then.^ when 
 the life of the prefent life is ruled and fancStified by 
 the motives and the beliefs of the life eternal, the 
 produ6l is an equal meafure of love and harmony ; 
 earth and heaven are feeminglyall at one; human 
 afFedions are raifed and purified ; and the divine 
 life is exhibited in a form that is approvable, and 
 attractive, and edifying. 
 
 Why then fhould we defire anything more than 
 this ? Why fhould we not flop fhort where the fub- 
 ftance of a tranquil happinefs may be found ? This 
 is not a queflion that need ever be anfwered, for it 
 is one that will never be pointedly advanced, ex- 
 cept in thofe inflances that, in truth, admit of no 
 anfwer applicable to the cafe. Let the fenfibilities 
 be as acute and as profound as fometimes they are; 
 and let the conjugal love embrace the entire exift- 
 ence of each, and let it be fuch as touches the 
 fprings of the moral life ; and then add to our fup- 
 pofition this countervailing element, namely, an 
 equal intenfity of the religious affections — even 
 fuch an intenfity as is daily urging the foul onward 
 toward a fruition of the Divine favour; the powers 
 of the life eternal are fo ftriving within the foul, as 
 at times would feem to render the mofl coftly facri- 
 fice of earthly felicity — yes, the choicefl felicity — 
 
NILUS. 141 
 
 not merely tolerable, but, may we not fay fo, a 
 facrifice, ananguifli, to be wifhed for ! 
 
 Now then we have in view an intelligible folu- 
 tion of what might appear to be a moral paradox. 
 That the felfi{h,the crabbed in temper, fhould eafily 
 reconcile themfelves to the pain of a parting, and 
 that fuch alfo fhould do fo who have been trained 
 under a religious fyftem which attributes a falfe 
 merit to the adt, or that fuch alfo fhould do fo who 
 live under fome modern difpenfation of contempt 
 for the law of God — thefe cafes are not perplexing. 
 But can we underftand thofe other inftances in 
 which the moft intenfe and genuine afFeftions have 
 been voluntarily rent in two by forces that (how 
 themfelves to be ftill more intimate ? We feem to 
 catch a glimpfe of a ftate of feeling at the impulfe 
 of which a rending like this might a£tually take 
 place, as a voluntary act. 
 
 The apoftolic rule, with its implied reafons and 
 its limitations ( i Cor. vii. 5) clearly recognizes, and 
 it allows as warrantable, a feeling which, if we only 
 fuppofe it to become much enhanced, might bring 
 us to a ftate of mind fuch as we have now ima- 
 gined. That it adually exifted in force, and that 
 it did ifTue in the final feparation of loving huf- 
 bands and wives, is a fa6t of which the evidences 
 are many, occurring upon the pages of the afcetic 
 biographies, as well ancient as modern. It is more 
 than I would venture to affirm that our Nilus was 
 a loving hufband of this order ; but we fhould gather 
 
142 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 furely, from the language of his narrative, the be- 
 lief that his injured wife was indeed a loving wife, 
 whofe keen affections ought to have been refpe6fed. 
 
 Fully to underftand cafes of this fort, of which 
 fo many prefent themfelves in the patriftic and in 
 the Romifh devotional writings, we muft carry 
 ourfelves back to the fame times, and endeavour 
 to realize the moral and religious views and mo- 
 tives of that dim tranfition period. The healthful, 
 the practicable Chriftian morality of the apoftolic 
 writings had, at an early time — as early, certainly, 
 as the end of the fecond century — blended itfelf 
 with the fpurious oriental do(5lrine, with its unna- 
 tural refinements and its lurid theory of the world, 
 and with its diftorted notions of every reality of 
 human exiftence. This mixture, poifonous in its 
 qualities, and fatal as it was to the fpiritual health 
 of thofe who received it, affected moft direCtly the 
 upper and the educated orders within the Chriflian 
 community. It was the Chriftian gentleman, fuch 
 as our NiLus, and the Chriftian lady, fuch as were 
 many " noble women" of the fame age, that had 
 wandered beneath the fhadow of the Oriental Phi- 
 lofophy, and that, while pleafmg themfelves in that 
 dimnefs, loft the ruddy health of better times, and 
 had become pallid, and the prey of whims. 
 
 Feelings, and refinements of feeling, which even 
 we — the better taught Chriftian m^en and women 
 of thefe times, may at leaft recognize and under- 
 ftand, how vivid might they become when they 
 
NILUS. 143 
 
 were favoured by the opinions, the feelings, and 
 the ufages that were on every fide prevalent in the 
 fourth and the fifth centuries ! Moreover, there 
 IS a peculiarity ofthofe ages which ftiould be well 
 kept in view, and it is this — that the companion- 
 able equality of the fexes, which is the proper fruit 
 of the Chriftian morality, and which is a principal 
 element of our modern European civilization, had 
 little or no place in the ancient and the Greek ci- 
 vilization. No doubt it would have followed in 
 the track of Chriftianity, had not the courfe of 
 things been turned afide by the incoming of the 
 afcetic do6lrine, and by its pernicious ufages. This 
 purifying Chriftian influence was in facSl counter- 
 acted at a very early time, and confequently (if very 
 rare inftances have been allowed for) the Chrif- 
 tian hufband did not think of finding a Chriftian 
 friend, and an advlfer, and a help in his wife. The 
 believing wife, on her part, expected no corre- 
 fponding aid from her huft)and ; but inftead of any 
 fuch healing and fan6tifying mutuality in the reli- 
 gious life, the two, although both of them believers, 
 were taught to regard each other, not indeed as 
 enemies^ but as hinderers of each other's progrefs 
 on the arduous path of Chriftian perfection. The 
 next ftep, where feelings of this kind exifted, it 
 was not fo difficult to take, as, to us of this time, 
 it may feem. Such hufbands and fuch wives might 
 foon come to perfuade themfelves that they were 
 acting meritorioufly when they faid, " It is true 
 
144 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 that, according to the Divine inftitution, we are 
 one ; but this inftitution itfelf is fuch that it needs 
 apology, and, in fa^Sl, do we not feel ourfelves to 
 be — in a lofty and fpiritual fenfe — antagonifts rather 
 than helpers? Let us then feparate, and each,ringly 
 and unencumbered, henceforth tread that rugged 
 path which leads heavenward. Farewell ! till we 
 meet where all (hall be as the angels of God." 
 
 If the injured wife and mother, in the inftance 
 before us, had defired revenge, which her filent 
 tears forbid us to fuppofe, fhe might fpeedily have 
 found it ; or found it, if indeed the ftory of the 
 fufFerings of her hufband and fon in the wildernefs 
 had reached her in the cloifler where fhe hid her 
 life-long grief. NiLUS, as it feemed, had too eafily 
 perfuaded himfelf that the contemplative life, which 
 he found to be impradicable in the imperial city, 
 might at once and certainly be enjoyed in or among 
 the receffes of Sinai. He fhould have informed 
 himfelf better of the ftate of things in the penin- 
 fula ; he fhould have confulted, if not a " Hand- 
 book of the Defert," yet fome of thofe lay perfons, 
 merchants, or military men, whofe views of things 
 were uncoloured and truthful. It was not fo, as we 
 mufl fuppofe ; on the contrary, he had converfed 
 — enraptured, with holy monks lately returned 
 from the Holy Places, and who defcribed to him 
 " life in the defert" in all its purity, fimplicity, and 
 cerulean tranquillity; a life howblefled, how nearly 
 neighbouring upon heaven, how ardently to be de- 
 
NILVS, 145 
 
 fired, and how cheaply purchafed, although itfhould 
 be at the price of wealth, honours, and every tie of 
 earthly relationfhip ! fo he thought; and thus ac- 
 cordingly he aded. 
 
 The holy men of the wildernefs, efpecially thofe 
 frequenting the Sinaitic Peninfular, congregated 
 themfelves fo far as this, that they conftru(5led their 
 huts — each one for himfelf, within the diftance of 
 a kw paces from thofe next adjoining. Their time 
 through the week they fpent in folitude, but they 
 were wont to afTemble on the Sunday within the 
 walls of a church — a building fufficient in its gar- 
 niture for the celebration of divine fervice. Hav- 
 ing fele6i:ed a fpot where a fpring fecured for them 
 a fufficient fupply of water round the year, they, or 
 fome of them, conftru6ted huts of fuch materials 
 as might be colle6led in the defert — fragments of 
 rock, and the long grafs or reeds found at fpots in 
 the wadys. Others betook themfelves — and per- 
 haps they made the wifer choice, to the natural 
 caverns of the mountains, within which a better 
 defence againft winds and rains might be found, 
 and a more fafe retreat when the enemy was abroad. 
 Some of thefe clefts of the Sinaitic region offered 
 a more even temperature, fummer and winter, day 
 and night, than could be found in the moft fub- 
 flantial buildings, and which, perhaps, are fuch as 
 might even now tempt a traveller to make an ex- 
 periment of — life in the v/ildernefs — for a kw days, 
 at leaft. 
 
 L 
 
146 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 There is much uniformity in thofe defcrlptions 
 of the anchoretic life which meet us in the patriftic 
 records. Yet there are differences. The hermits 
 of the Upper Nile— the emaciated tenants of the 
 fepulchres which honeycomb its rocky banks — 
 had many of them become fcarcely human in their 
 ftyle and behaviour ; and albeit they were chrif- 
 tianized, profeffedly, yet were they the genuine 
 fucceffors and reprefentatives of a fakir race that 
 might boaft a very high antiquity. Some, perhaps 
 many, of the anchorets of Upper Egypt were piti- 
 able beings, who, at moments when perfecution 
 raged in cities, confcious of their inability to ftand 
 the fiery trial, had fled, and had fought fafety where 
 alone, at that time, it might be found. Some, and 
 more than a few of them, were in this plight ; — 
 they had loft or broken every focial tie ; they were 
 outcafts, perhaps outlaws, and they were glad to 
 hide their miferies in a fepulchre. 
 
 But if, turning hence, we choofe to roam along 
 the fhores of the Euxine, and if we ftop where a 
 wooded amphitheatre, with its watered flopes — 
 gay and fragrant with flowers, might tempt princes 
 from their palaces — if in fuch a natural paradife 
 we make fearch for the holy anchoret — the tafteful 
 and luxurious intelle(Slualift — theBafilofthe fourth 
 century — and if there we find him, we fliall come 
 to queftion the propriety of applying one term, or 
 one fet of terms, to modes of exiftence that, in 
 almoft every fenfe, are the contraries, the one of 
 the other. 
 
NILVS. 147 
 
 The anchoretic life aflumed a middle afpeft 
 throughout thofe countries which in fa6l lie mid- 
 way between the regions we have named. Monaf- 
 ticifm, fuch as we may gather an idea of it from the 
 pages of Ephrem Syrus, or from the perfonal re- 
 ferences to it occurring in the writings of the great 
 theologue of Bethlehem, Jerome, was compara- 
 tively a reafonable fcheme of religious, or of lite- 
 rary retirement — more regardful of the ends of a 
 fecluded and abftemious courfe, than ambitious of 
 repute on behalf of incredible aufterities. 
 
 Men who fought fomething more extreme, more 
 fatisfying to a romantic turn than they could find 
 in the monafteries or the hermitages of Syria and 
 Paleftine, moved further on toward the Arabian 
 defert, or they boldly flruck into the heart of it. So 
 did our Conftantinopolltan courtier. The terrific 
 grandeur of the fcenery, furpafled by no Alpine 
 area in the world, together with its facred hiftoric 
 aiTociations, were of that kind which well combine 
 themfclves with emotions of religious awe and 
 wonder, and efpecially with that powerful — that all- 
 powerful impulfe of the human mind, to draw it- 
 felf up toward any point fuppofed to be near to the 
 world eternal and invifible. Paleftine muft yield 
 to Sinai in the efteem of thofe who thus yearn to 
 live, as near as may be poffible while in the flefh, 
 to the fplendours and to the terrors of the world 
 upon which we are to enter, at the moment when 
 the flefti returns to its earth. 
 
148 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 There were anchoretic communities located 
 upon the narrow areas, and within the wadys of 
 the Sinaitic region ; but there were alfo fome of 
 the folitaries who, either for the fake of a more 
 entire feclufion, or perhaps of greater fecurity as 
 toward the Bedouin freebooters, lodged themfelves 
 in caves or crevices of the holy mountain. It 
 feems that Nilus and his fon Theodulus had 
 taken this courfe, and had become tenants of a 
 nook, high up on the fide of the hill. We maybe 
 allowed to conjecture that, in removing himfelf 
 from the refources and amenities of civilization, he 
 had refer.ved to himfelf funds or ftores fufficient 
 for at leaft fome months of the experiment in this 
 new exiftence. The tender paternal feeling, of 
 which the narrative gives evidence, would impel 
 the father to provide againfl the death of this deli- 
 cate youth, as well as of himfelf, by abfolute fl:ar- 
 vation. 
 
 As to thofe who conftituted the monaftic com- 
 munity below, their mode of life or manner of ex- 
 iftence was nearly the fame as that of which we 
 meet defcriptions everywhere in the patriftic writ- 
 ings. A ^QW of thefe reclufes — and it was a ^qw 
 only, did not think themfelves bound to efchew 
 the ufe of bread (or of wheaten cakes unleavened) ; 
 thefe therefore, furnifhed with a rude hoe, and 
 appropriating to themfelves a few fquare yards of 
 the arid furface, found it poftible to raife a crop 
 fijfficient, each, for his confumption through the 
 
NILUS, 149 
 
 winter months : during the fummer the fponta- 
 neous produds of the defert were available and fuf- 
 ficient. 
 
 As to the more fternly purpofed of the brethren, 
 they condemned, as to themfelves at leaft, the 
 grain upon which cooks and confectioners expend 
 their fkill for the pampering of gluttonous appetites. 
 Men of this clafs — or, as they were called, the ath- 
 letic afpirants to the " angelic" ftyle of exiftence 
 — thefe roamed through the wadys, gathering ber- 
 ries, or fearching for efculent roots ; fubfifting each 
 day upon fuch as were perifhable, and collecting a 
 ftore of fuch as might be dried and preferved. So 
 it was, as always it is, that thofe who aim at ex- 
 travagances for confcience fake, are, by iheer force 
 of nature, driven into fhifts of inconfiftency. It 
 is certain that to colle6t and to dry, and to make 
 a ftore of acrid berries, is nothing elfe than a vio- 
 lation of the caution, " Lay not up for yourfelves 
 treafures upon earth j" or it is fo if, indeed, the 
 ftoring of wheat in a barn is a violation of that 
 precept. Yet we are now intending to look at the 
 eremitic life not critically, but in a kindly temper. 
 It fhould be added that (fo we are affured) fome 
 of thefe folitaries took food only on Sunday; others, 
 twice or three times in the week ; the more feeble, 
 once in the twenty-four hours. 
 
 Thus thought of, we may eafily believe, as to 
 life in the defert — free and cheaply purchafed, and 
 ena6ted under an Arabian fky, that it might eagerly 
 
150 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 be taken to, even by multitudes from among our 
 denfe populations (if only it were near at hand) as 
 moft defirable, when the alternative is the fqualor, 
 and the hideous conditions, and the crufhing cares 
 of an attic or a cellar in London or Glafgow. 
 Add to the attractions of defert life — to its liberty 
 and its exhilarating atmofphere, a vivid belief of 
 the life eternal — its nearnefs, Its certainty, its fplen- 
 dours, its rewards, its triumphs over cruel perfe- 
 cutors and over Satan and his hofts ; and give alfo 
 to the eremite that which moji of them pofTelTed in 
 the fourth and fifth centuries — portions of holy 
 Scripture either in hand or in memory — give him 
 thefe good things, and thefe folaces, thefe indul- 
 gences — and muft we not admit that his lot is fuch 
 as many of ourfelves might think enviable ? 
 
 The Arabian defert, then as now, and as at all 
 times within the hiftoric period, was claimed as 
 their own by the lawlefs tribes whofe hands are 
 againft every man, and who fubfift by the fword, 
 and not either by the plough or the bow. In the 
 narrative before us we find the Bedouin of the 
 fifth century depifted, in outline and in colouring, 
 the fame being as ever ; the difference between 
 the ancient and the modern marauder being that 
 which has refulted from his abandonment of his 
 primeval and fanguinary idolatry, and his acceptance 
 of the faith and the ufages of Mahomet's inftitute. 
 Thefe tribes, at times anterior to their converfion, 
 and to the confequent fuperindudion of a loftier 
 
NILUS. 151 
 
 fanatlcifm than that known to their fathers, were 
 no doubt more ferocious — probably much more fo, 
 than they are at prefent. 
 
 Yet even in thofe earlier times the Arabian 
 tribes yielded themfelves to the control of confti- 
 tuted powers, and their fheiks were able, on their 
 behalf, to enter into treaties of peace with the 
 bordering authorities of the Eaftern Empire. Un- 
 conquered and unconquerable, they neverthelefs 
 recognized the neighbouring ftates, which, within 
 their proper region, they fet at defiance. It ap- 
 pears, moreover, that the monaftic eftablifhments 
 exifting within the bounds of the defert, fuch as 
 thofe in the peninfula of Sinai, had come to a6t in 
 fome mode of ufeful intervention or mediation be- 
 tween the European and the Arabian populations. 
 On the ground of this mediation, the chiefs pledged 
 themfelves to the monks for their fecure abode in 
 the wildernefs. Thefe treaties were however vio- 
 lated at times, efpecially when a tribe or gang, 
 prefled by want, furmifed that the monks had ac- 
 cumulated a larger amount of winter ftores than 
 ufual. 
 
 Such feems to have been the ftate of things at 
 the moment when NiLUS introduces us to the in- 
 cidents of his life in the defert. This moment was 
 foon after (we do not know how foon after) the 
 time of his entering upon it with his fon. 
 
 NiLUS, with his fon in hand, had defcended from 
 his retreat on the lofty flanks of the mountain, in- 
 
152 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 tending to pafs fome time, according to his cuftom, 
 among the brethren, whofe fettlement occupied a 
 watered gorge beneath. Suddenly, like a thunder- 
 ftorm, and without warning, down came rufhing 
 upon them a band of thefe lawlefs Arabs. It was 
 at the early dawn, and the holy brethren had juft 
 concluded the morning fervice ; — the laft notes of 
 the hymn of praife had died away. Like famifhing 
 favage animals, thefe barbarians fought for, found, 
 and feized, the whole of the (lores of food which 
 the brethren had laid up for the approaching win- 
 ter. This treafure fecured, the ruffians dragged 
 the fathers forth from the church, ftripped, and 
 driven like fheep to the flaughter. The fenior of 
 the fraternity only, or two or three others, then 
 met their death, giving to the others an example 
 of meek refignation in the endurance of the moft 
 favage treatment from thefe barbarians. 
 
 Thofe of the monks who efcaped death hid 
 themfelves among the rocks : fome were led olF 
 prifoners ; and among thefe was Theodulus, the 
 young fon of Nilus. He himfelf, as he candidly 
 tells us, made his efcape. A prefentiment of cala- 
 mity or death had come upon the fenior prefbyter, 
 who, the evening before this fatal day, when in- 
 viting his brethren to their repaft, had, with more 
 than his ufual fuavity, addreffed them in this way : 
 — " How do we know that this may not be the 
 laft time of our all thus ailembling around the 
 fame table ?" 
 
NILUS, 153 
 
 NiLUS, we fay, had contrived to efcape from 
 this flaughter. A rugged path, unufed, and which 
 was held facred, led up from this lower ground to 
 the heights of the holy mountain. By this way 
 fome of the monks, and he among them, had 
 fought fafety. But how was it that he could thus 
 abandon his fon,whom he faw bound and led away, 
 and deftined to he knew not what terrible fate — a 
 fate worfe than death ? The father's explanation of 
 the confli6t between his pcrfonal fears, the inftinc- 
 tive love of life, and the impulfes of parental affec- 
 tion, does not ferve to bring him into view as a 
 hero. We muft underftand him as meaning that 
 his too hafty feet ran away with the reluctant 
 body and the better mind, carrying the entire man 
 in the dire6lion of fafety ! Thofe who break them- 
 felves away from the ordinary trials of life at the 
 impulfe of their perfonal taftes, and for realizing 
 fome romantic conception of unearthly felicity, are 
 very likely to fail on the firft occafion that makes 
 a fuddcn demand upon their manly courage, and 
 their willingnefs to fufFer for the refcue of others. 
 It was no want of fenfibility or of affedion, in this 
 good man; but there had been a mifcalculation of 
 his own moral forces, which had led him into a 
 pofition in which he failed to do his part. In pur- 
 fuitof the dream of a hermit's tranquil life, he had 
 rent the ties of natural afFe6lion towards a wife and 
 a daughter ; but here, in the hour of danger, he 
 runs for his life — he fcrambles up a precipitous 
 
154 ESSAYS, ETC, 
 
 afcent, while at each turn of the path he looks 
 back, and thence catches a laft glance of his fon, 
 who is led off by favages ! 
 
 When at length thefe bandits had retired with 
 their booty and their captives, and all was again 
 filent and fafe in the gloomy wady, the furviving 
 brethren defcended from the craggy heights, and 
 haftened — it was before dawn of the next morning 
 — to perform the laft offices to the flain. All but 
 one — the fenior of the fraternity, had been a long 
 while dead; but he was ftill confcious, and, it is 
 faid, he was able to addrefs to his brethren the quan- 
 tity of a paragraph, or more, of fcriptural confola- 
 tion. Let us not imagine, faid he, that fome ftrange 
 thing had happened to himfelf and to them. It 
 was the way with Satan thus to afk of God that 
 the faithful fhould be given into his hand for un- 
 dergoing an extremity of trial. Think of Job ; 
 and think of the exceeding great reward which 
 God has in ftore for recompenfmg the virtue of 
 his faithful fervants. Thus having fpoken, the 
 old man killed his brethren, and breathed out his 
 fpirit. While it was ftill dark, he and the others 
 were committed to the earth. 
 
 The brethren were ftill on the fpot, conferring 
 one with another, when a youth, running breath- 
 lefs, and in extreme agitation, came up. He had 
 been carried away with the fon of Nilus, and with 
 him had been doomed to die that very morning. 
 Both were to be flaughtered as vi6tims offered, by 
 
NILUS, 155 
 
 the barbarians, to their obfcene divinity : he had 
 got the knowledge of their intention — he had feen 
 the horrid preparations which they had already 
 completed — the altar and the fagots. " Unlefs," 
 faid he to his companion, " unlefs we can efFe6t 
 our efcape inftantly, we neither of us (hall fee the 
 light of another day." For himfelf, he had refolved 
 to attempt it ; not fo his fellow-prifoner, Theo- 
 dulus, who, more overcome with bodily fear, and 
 better fuftained, perhaps, by religious motives, de- 
 termined to await his fate, let it be what it might. 
 The other, feeing that the favages were now loft 
 in fleep, after their drunken revels, flipt away, 
 crawling out beyond the bounds of the encamp^ 
 ment, and then ftarting up — his heels winged with 
 terrors, he had reached the place where now they 
 met. How often have a man's pair of heels — fo 
 thought this youth — done him a better fervice in 
 an extremity than a legion of guards could have 
 rendered ! 
 
 The narrative which follows, and the defcrip- 
 tion of the truculent doings of the barbarians of 
 the defert, and the patience in fufFering, and the 
 joy in death of hermits, old and young — thefe ad- 
 ventures are befide our prefent purpofe. But whe- 
 ther thefe narrations may be taken as authentically 
 given or not, the defcriptlons which occur in them 
 of the defert fcenery are quite true to fa61:, and the 
 incidents alfo are highly chara6leriftic, as well of 
 the region itfelf, as of the marauding Bedouin man- 
 
156 ESSJTS, ETC, 
 
 hers ; only that the wild Arab of that age was no 
 doubt a more favage and fanguinary creature than 
 are his defcendants of the prefent time. For not 
 only has the prophet of Mecca humanized, to a 
 great extent, the rude men of the wildernefs, but 
 their relations with furrounding governments have 
 become more intimate, and have had the fame 
 tendency. 
 
 The inflances are not of infrequent occurrence 
 in the afcetic biographies, of thofe who, in meeting 
 a violent death, fuddenly, and at an early age, drew 
 comfort and courage too from this fource, namely, 
 that thus dying, and then dying, the athletic expe- 
 riment was with them broken off at an aufpicious 
 moment. " Death," fays a young martyr, " finds 
 me with my vows unbroken, and my virtue fafe, 
 and my title to a heavenly inheritance not forfeited. 
 That eternal reward for the fake of which, and to 
 earn which, I have endured years of hardfhip, and 
 have infli6ted upon myfelf fo much fuffering, fliall 
 all be mine ! yes, it is mine; and now I go to claim 
 it." A feeling like this is indicated in an inftance 
 which here occurs, and elfewhere we find it more 
 fully exprefTed. Let us fay that our modern and 
 our Proteftant theology is offended by this lan- 
 guage ; but let us admit, alfo, that a life of felf- 
 denial and an early death, welcomed on the ground 
 of a full faith in things " unfeen and eternal," even 
 though it may involve fome doctrinal mifapprehen- 
 fions, fhould be tenderly rebuked by thofe whofe 
 
NILUS. 157 
 
 own difpofitlons, and whofe ftyle of difcourfe, and 
 whofe modes of life give a very ambiguous evi- 
 dence as to the firmnefs or the fincerity of their 
 belief of a heaven to come. 
 
 The diftra(5ted father, informed, to this extent — 
 but not fully inftru(5led as to the fate of his Theo- 
 dulus, who was in the hands, and at the mercy of 
 favage men, if not already — which, indeed, was 
 the better fuppofition — flaughtered, gave utterance 
 to the tortures of his heart in loud wailings. He 
 allowed himfelf to imagine all kinds of horrors 
 that might have attended the laft hours of the 
 youth ; or in thinking of him — a tenderly trained 
 boy as he was, as now vainly ftriving to obey the 
 unreafonable commands of a ruthlefs mafter ; — he 
 is buffeted, he is torn with the lajQi, he is cut and 
 maimed ; at this very moment how might he be 
 uttering fruitlefs cries, and pleading for mercy 
 with thofe who knew of none ! 
 
 In the midft of thefe lamentations — tearlefs, for 
 he could not weep — NiLUS was at once filenced, 
 and was put to fhame, by the more mafculine, and, 
 as he thought, the more Chriftian-like behaviour 
 and language of a woman ! The incident, even 
 although we fhould ftrip the narrative of its the- 
 atrical and rhetorical decorations, is quite charac- 
 teriftic of the times with which juft now we are 
 converfant ; and in truth, even in its tone of ex- 
 aggeration, it brings before us a very fignificant 
 point of difference between the Chriftian feeling of 
 
158 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 the fifth century and that of the nineteenth. With 
 us, of this time, the vivid belief of " an inheritance 
 incorruptible, undefiled, and unfading — referved in 
 heaven," has become commingled in all poflible 
 modes of indefinite fpeculation, and of iterated 
 formalifm, and of unmeaning fentimentality, with 
 that utter non-belief in any fuch futurity which 
 we find around us. Who fhall fay, even as to his 
 own habitual ftates of mind, when he looks beyond 
 the laft hours of his earthly courfe — who fhall fay 
 how far the atheiftic indifference of thofe with 
 whom, through life, he has been converfing daily, 
 has availed to thicken that cloud which the eye of 
 faith would penetrate ? 
 
 It was not fo— it was far otherwife with our 
 Chriftian predeceffors of the early ages. With 
 them — or with thofe of them who were fincere, 
 fimple-hearted, and devout — with fuch perfons,the 
 hope of the Gofpel — the hope of a blifsful refurrec- 
 tion of the body — the well-defined immortality 
 that had fo lately been brought to light by Chrift 
 (or had been brought to the light) held its entire- 
 nefs — its clear and palpable integrity, free from all 
 abatements, from all admixtures with contrary doc- 
 trines or beliefs. That which the believers of thofe 
 early times faw ranged in oppofition to the Chrif- 
 tian idea and hope of the life eternal — that which 
 the believing men, and women, and children of 
 thofe ages looked at as confronting them — the hoft 
 that mantled the mount Ebal of that age — was the 
 
NILUS. 159 
 
 foul and the foolifh paganifm of the bygone ages 
 of ignorance. It was therefore, as aided by a con- 
 traft fo forcible as this, and fo unambiguous, that 
 the Chriftian confeiTors of the martyr times met 
 fo well a fiery death ; and it was the fame divine 
 faith, perpetuated and fent forward through a cen- 
 tury or two, that ferved to give vitality to the 
 afcetic community, or to thofe of this clafs whom 
 we may think of as worthy of our fympathies. 
 But we return to the narrative before us: — another 
 afpe6l of the fame fubje6t will prefent itfelf in the 
 courfe of the following EiTay. 
 
 The widowed mother of the youth whom we 
 have juft referred to, and who had met his death 
 joyfully, though infli61:ed with tortures, was near 
 at hand where thefe furviving hermits were aflem- 
 bled. When fhe heard — and heard in all its de- 
 tails — of the martyr-death of her young fon, fhe 
 uttered no lamentation, but, retiring awhile, fhe 
 put on her jewels and her gayeft attire, and, re- 
 turning, ftood forth as if joyous, prepared to take 
 her part in fome feftal ceremony. Lifting her 
 hands to the heavens, fhe addrefled her Saviour 
 God in language of thankfgiving — language which, 
 if it were more brief than it is, and alfo lefs rhetori- 
 cal, would infpire a greater confidence than it does 
 in its authenticity. But whether it be flri61:ly au- 
 thentic, or too much enlarged and decorated, it 
 may be taken as chara6lerifl:ic of the rtyle and 
 feelings of the times. This Chriftian mother had 
 
i6o ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 dedicated the youth — her only fon, to the Lord ; 
 and now fhe received with exultation the evidence 
 that the truft had been accepted, and that the ob- 
 ligation was fully fatisfied. The youth — all entire 
 as he was in his vows — his continence — his ath- 
 letic virtues, had fought the good fight of faith ; he 
 had met the enemy, and he had conquered ; and 
 now file, his mother, might think herfelf a fharer 
 in his triumphs. With his pure and faultlefs foul he 
 has gone up to the fruition of joy. " His death is 
 alfo my reward — his wounds are my crown. My 
 fon, if thy body had found room for more ftripes 
 than were inflicfted upon thee, fo much the more 
 would have been thy recompenfes ; grant me then, 
 give me back a portion of thy reward, in payment 
 for the pains I endured at thy birth !" She claims 
 to fhare his glories and his rewards : fhe had fuf- 
 fered on her part, he on his ; he had endured ex- 
 treme, but brief tortures; fhe, in thus vanquifhing 
 the maternal inftin6ts, and in thus compelling her- 
 felf to hear unmoved, as a mother, the recital of 
 his death, had endured a worfe pain ; and hers muft 
 be a lafting anguifh. " I am inwardly rent, I am 
 torn, I am tormented, and muft endure thefe pains 
 fo long as I live. Not fuch a mother am I as are 
 the multitude of women, who, in lofing their off- 
 fpring, are wont to make the air ring with their 
 lamentations ; they — weeping at the death of a 
 child as if they were the mothers of the bodies 
 only — the limbs, the flefh, the blood ! all their 
 
NILUS. i6i 
 
 thoughts are centered upon earth, and its cares, its 
 pains, its hopes ; no wonder, therefore, that in this 
 their ignorance of a better life, they thus bewail 
 their lofs — for it is the lofs of all. It is not fo with 
 me ; am I not the mother of the foul ? I do not 
 rend my garments ; I do not tear my naked bofom 
 and my face with my nails ; I do not pull out my 
 hair by handfuls ! Thou lived, my fon — liveft with 
 God, to die no more ; and with thee fhall I alfo 
 live, foon as this frail body falls to earth. Happieft 
 of mothers am I, who have borne fo noble an ago- 
 nift, and have thus returned him — whole and tri- 
 umphant — to God !" 
 
 We thus briefly render the purport of this Spar- 
 tan mother's long apoftrophe to her martyred fon; 
 — to give it more at length would not be ferviceable. 
 There is, however, one fuggeftion which we fhould 
 not omit to gather from it. If, indeed, it were a 
 folitary or a rare inftance, the inference we have 
 in view would not be warrantable ; but, in fa6i:, 
 this epifode in the narrative of Nilus is one of a 
 kind of which the inftances frequently occur in 
 the records of the early ages. By this time, and, 
 in truth, at a time much anterior to this, Chrif- 
 tianity had wrought its efFe6l with great power upon 
 the mind and chara6ter of woman, and it had effec- 
 tively and for ever lifted her from her abafement, 
 and had placed her in her due pofition of fpiritual 
 equality with man — if not of companionfhip. The 
 firft requifite in that renovation of the focial fyftem 
 M 
 
1 62 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 which the Gofpel was to bring about for the world, 
 is — the moral equality, and the rightful influence of 
 woman ; — an equality and an individual develop- 
 ment of mind, and an energy of the pureft affec- 
 tions, which forbid the degradation of the fex, either 
 in the oriental manner, or in that of ancient Greece, 
 and which, irrefpedively of prohibitions or of de- 
 crees of Councils, renders polygamy impoflible 
 wherever Chriftianity prevails. In the next fol- 
 lowing Effay the fame fubje6l will again come into 
 view, and we now pafs it ; only faying this, that, 
 little as we may relifh the declamatory ftyle or 
 the vauntins: tone of this Chriftian widow on this 
 occafion, and open as her harangue may be to 
 criticifm, on the fcore alike of good tafte and of 
 found theology, this is certain, that a bright and 
 firm belief of the immortality which is fet before 
 us in the Gofpel had fo become a fixed habitude of 
 the female mind within the Chriftian community, 
 as to give to the weaker fex that one counter- 
 balancing element of power, in relation to the 
 ftronger fex, which is compatible with its gentle- 
 nefs, with its ffyle, with its character! ft ic quali- 
 ties, as feminine. Emboldened, and yet not made 
 bold — ftrengthened,but not rendered mafculine — 
 by the vivid confcioufnefs of her individual rela- 
 tionfhip to Chrifl her Saviour, and by the bright 
 affijrance of immortality — woman — the Chriftian 
 wife, mother, fifler, daughter — now furrounds her- 
 felf with a nimbus of the light of heaven, without 
 
NILUS, 163 
 
 any compromlfe of thofe graces which are her own, 
 as the grace of this world ; and fo long as fhe un- 
 derftands her place, and is worthy to fill it, the 
 truth has a threefold weight of meaning when ap- 
 plied to the Chriftian woman — that godlinefs is to 
 her indeed " a great gain." 
 
 The remaining adventures of Nilus in the de- 
 fert are foon told, if we note only fuch fa6ls as 
 feem to be chara6lerifl:ic of the time. We have 
 faid (p. 132) that this narrative is free from thofe 
 olFenfive admixtures of miracle which fo much dif- 
 parage mod of the patriftic writings of the fourth 
 and following centuries. Greatly has Nilus the 
 advantage in this refpe6l, when he is put in com- 
 parifon with Jerome, and even with Auguftine. 
 We need not fpecify, as an exception to this 
 praife, what he affirms concerning the bodies of 
 fome of the monks who had been flaughtered by 
 the barbarians. As to fome of them, he fays, that 
 five days had elapfed fince their death, and yet that 
 no fenfible corruption had taken place; there was 
 no effluvium, no difcoloration, nor had the bodies 
 become a prey to beaft or bird. He fays that one 
 of thofe who were mortally wounded ftill furvived; 
 if fo, then others might only recently have expired, 
 and the furvivors might have been able to keep at 
 bay the vulture and the jackal. Be this as it might, 
 this is certain, that fome of NiLUs's contempo- 
 raries, the writers of afcetic memoirs, would not 
 have been content with affirming the mere fa^ of 
 
i64 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 the integrity of thefe facred corpfes, but would, 
 moreover, have afTured us that exquifite perfumes 
 floated on the breeze far and near around them, 
 and that a hovering effulgence had guarded the 
 dead from the beaft and the bird. The abfence of 
 any fuch decorations in this inftance affords us a 
 reafonable ground of confidence as to the general 
 truthfulnefs .of the narrative. 
 
 It was contrary to exifting treaties, as between 
 the Chriftian reclufes and the Bedouin fheikhs, 
 that the brethren had been thus ill-treated ; the 
 marauders were in fact lawlefs bandits ; and their 
 violences, when made known to the chief who 
 claimed authority over them and over the diftriil, 
 called forth an utterance of his wrath and his grief. 
 In the end, reparation, fo far as might be poffible, 
 was made to the furvivors, who were kindly re- 
 ceived by the chief. In reaching his quarters, an 
 eight days' journey, often reckoned at twelve, 
 acrofs the defert, was to be undertaken, in the 
 courfe of which the ufual fuffering from thirft was 
 to be endured. At length, when all v/ere near to 
 perifhing — men and beafts, the nearnefs of water 
 is announced ; there is a rufli forward toward it ; 
 there would be a fcramble when it was reached. 
 NiLUS, not lefs eager than his companions to flake 
 his third:, yet would not compromife the gravity 
 and dignity of his deportment, by quickening his 
 pace fo far as to derange his coftume. Not too old 
 to run with others, if he had pleafed to do fo, he 
 
NILVS. 165 
 
 was too regardful of facred decorums to attempt it. 
 Neverthelefs, and notwith {landing his well-mea- 
 fured paces, he was the firft to catch a fight of the 
 pool or well. In afcending a hill he beheld the 
 object of defire, but faw, with difmay, a party of 
 wild Arabs crouching around it. The travelling 
 party foon came up, and then the queftion was, 
 which company fliould run for their lives r A few 
 moments of hefitation, and thefe barbarians, mea- 
 furing the array of the party, fnatched up their 
 arms, left their provifions, and made off. What re- 
 joicing, what libations, what feafting now enfued ! 
 
 Thus refreftied, the journey's end was foon at- 
 tained ; and after a brief fufpenfe and an eager 
 queft — this way and that, in the crowd, the father 
 and the fon met each other's glance, and were 
 locked in each other's arms. The youth had been 
 fpared and redeemed, and had now found the 
 kindeft treatment, and pofition too, among Chrif- 
 tian men. 
 
 But in the midft of his joys, did not the father 
 reproach himfelf for all that his fon had endured ? 
 He did fo. Why had he brought this boy away 
 from the fecurity and the good things of the city, 
 the place of his birth, where no thought of danger, 
 or of difturbance, or of want ever troubled him, 
 to take up his comfortlefs, precarious abode in a 
 howling wildernefs, the haunt of lawlefs and fa- 
 vage men ? Why indeed, we may well afk, had a 
 tender father done this ? and why, though he does 
 
1 66 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 not put this other queftion to his confcience, why- 
 had he forfaken his public duties, and rent his do- 
 meflic ties ? We can only fay, in anfwer, that when 
 religious motives come in to lend their force to 
 perfonal whims or to romantic fancies, there is no 
 extravagance in conduit which we may not look 
 for as the confequence of fuch a combination. 
 
 It is foon demanded of the youth, Theodulus, 
 that he fhould recount his adventures from the 
 dark hour of the barbarian onflaught to the pre- 
 fent moment. This narrative may be reported in 
 fubftance, fhorn of its embellifhments, as follows : 
 The young man excufes himfelf from repeating 
 what the companion of his captivity had already 
 related, or how it was that the two were awaiting 
 their fate, all things ready for a foul immolation 
 to be effected before funrife ; the altar, the knife, 
 the libation, the incenfe, the cup — all was ready ; 
 nor was a refcue from their fate to be expe6led 
 unlefs God fhould come in to the help of the help- 
 lefs. Efcape by flight might be poiTible, but how 
 uncertain, with thefe favage men around them on 
 every fide, and in the depth of an unknown wil- 
 dernefs, which was outftretched betv/een them 
 and any place of fafety. One who fhould attempt 
 to find his path over the hard, pathlefs rocks, 
 needed, not fo much human fkill, as a power of 
 divination. Yet the one of thefe youths, ven- 
 turous and ailive, made his choice for flight; the 
 other, as he fays, broken in fpirit, threw himfelf 
 
NILUS. 167 
 
 upon the earth, and there looked for a ray of hope, 
 if it might be found, in thought and prayer. 
 
 " While we are in fecurity, and addrefs ourfelves 
 to prayer, how does our foolifh mind take its cir- 
 cuit among the things of life ! What images court 
 the idle fancy ! Ideas of trade, and voyages \ we are 
 building houfes ; we are planting groves ; we are 
 contra6ling marriages ; we are a6^ually married ; 
 we fet out on expeditions ; we think of gains, of 
 judgments, markets, courts, thrones, officers ; we 
 avenge ourfelves upon our enemies; we meet our 
 friends ; we join in feftivities ; we exercife public 
 fundions, and we manage our home affairs ; ay, 
 and we fancy ourfelves feated upon the throne of 
 imperial power ! Yes ; but it is otherwife in the 
 dark hour of danger and difmay. In fuch an hour 
 the flern afpe6l and prefTure of fome extreme ca- 
 lamity drives the foul in upon itfelf; — thought is 
 digefted — it runs no more aftray. In fubmiffive 
 tones we addrefs our prayers to God, even to the 
 Almighty, who in the midft of the moft defperate 
 forrows is able, as with a nod, and in the twink- 
 ling of an eye, to bring in deliverance for us ! To 
 Him did I then make my humble fupplication." 
 This prayer, as we find it reported or manufac- 
 tured, has its eloquence ; but the one chara6le- 
 riftic which we note, juft now, is the readinefs, 
 the copioufnefs, and the pertinence of the fcrip- 
 tural references which make up the body of it. A 
 well-taught youth, in thefe days of the Bible, would 
 
i68 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 not, In this refpeft, excel this Theodulus of the 
 fifth century. Wander as they might, our Chrif- 
 tian predeceflors of that time were thoroughly con- 
 verfant with holy Scripture ; and they paid it all 
 refpeft, and they appealed to it, and to no other 
 authorities. 
 
 The companion of Theodulus had trufted his 
 life to his bodily powers. " He has put his truft 
 in his heels ; I put my truft in the Almighty: let 
 it not feem, in the event, as if his confidence were 
 better than mine !" The youth was thus praying, 
 with tears and cries, when the barbarians fuddenly 
 awoke, and, to their difmay, beheld the fun already 
 rifen! They had overflept themfelves ; the cano- 
 nical hour for the intended facrifice was gone by; 
 and befides, there muft be two vicSlims, but one 
 had efcaped, and where was he ? None could fay. 
 Then did the fpirit of the youth return to him ; 
 God had come down for his deliverance, at leaft 
 for the prefent moment, and he might behold the 
 light and breathe the air of another day. To no 
 further violence was he then fubje6ted, but was 
 carried to a neio-hbourino- town, and there offered 
 for fale. " No one would give my price ; none 
 thought me worth more than tv/o gold pieces !'* 
 The Arabs threatened to cut off his head at the 
 next moment, unlefs fome of the byftanders would 
 give them their price. At length a kind-hearted 
 fomebody rifked the bargain, and thus Theodulus 
 is faved. He is refcued from death, and from 
 
NILUS, 169 
 
 flavery too, and is cherifhed with Chriflian kind- 
 
 nefs. 
 
 The father, during the days of his anguifh and 
 uncertainty as to his fon's fate, had " opened his 
 lips to the Lord" — if only he might be reftored to 
 him, promifing, on his own behalf and his fon's, 
 that thenceforward he fhould be the Lord's. The 
 fon, on his part, cheerfully alTents to and feconds 
 the purpofe of his father, even, in like manner, as 
 the virgin daughter of Jephtha had fubmitted her- 
 felf to his rafli vow. But now this obligation 
 might be fulfilled in a mode lefs appalling, and 
 more accordant with the fpirit of the Chriftian 
 fyftem. The afcetic vow would fully fatisfy the 
 conditions of this dedication. 
 
 Then follows what is curious in itfelf, and is in- 
 dicative of thofe unwarranted refinements which 
 had come in along with the afcetic philofophy : — > 
 there here occurs a generous parley between father 
 and fon, the purport of the altercation being, to 
 make an equitable afTignment of the merits and 
 the recompences that had been feverally earned by 
 the two, in pafling through the fufFerings and the 
 trials of this feafon of affliction, and in doing what 
 remained to fulfil the conditions of the vow. 
 
 In the firft of thefe Eflays we have protefted 
 againft the undue intrufion of logic in theology; 
 and here we m»ight find fair occafion for protefting 
 againft the intrufion of what may be called arith- 
 metic in the fame. So are the notions and reli- 
 
170 ESSJTS, ETC, 
 
 gious ufages of fuccefTive ages feen to fway from 
 one extreme point to the oppofite! If there be 
 fruit to be gathered from an acquaintance with the 
 revolutions of opinion in paft times, it will greatly 
 confift in what we learn when we collate the 
 iwervings of the human mind in one age, with its 
 •fwervings in another age. 
 
 At length NiLUS and theyoungTheodulus found 
 the means of fquaring their accounts with each 
 other, and with heaven. The good biftiop into 
 whofe hands it had been their happinefs to fall, 
 befides his immediate hofpitalities, offered them aid 
 in their journey, if they fhould decline his invita- 
 tion to abide with them. Moreover, he overcame 
 the diffidence and the fcruples of Nilus, who at 
 length confented to receive prieft's orders at his 
 hands. 
 
 In one of the many religious houfes which had 
 lately been founded in the defert, weftward of the 
 Nile, and around or near the Natron Lakes, the 
 father and the fon fought and found what they 
 now knew could not be fecured in the peninfula 
 of Sinai, overrun as it was by lawlefs hordes. In 
 taking this more reafonable courfe there was, in- 
 deed, a compromlfe to be fubmitted to ; the ro- 
 mance of the eremitic life muft be abandoned as 
 impracticable ; and inftead of it there was to be 
 quietly accepted the non-romantic monotonies, the 
 perfonal reftraints, the impofed rules and forms of 
 a monaftery, as well as the annoyances of a life- 
 
NILUS. 171 
 
 long imprlfonment with a company of perfons col- 
 lecSled from various quarters, and themfelves of va- 
 rious moral quality, whofe waywardnefs, and hu- 
 mours, and infirmities, and even — incurable vices, 
 muft be borne v/ith; and all this muft be endured 
 within the narrow and gloomy limits of a religious 
 fortrefs, in the heart of a fcorching wildernefs. 
 
 Neverthelefs it was here, and as abbot, and as 
 writer, that Nilus found, or made for himfelf, as 
 an energetic fpirit will not fail to do, the higheft 
 and the cholceft earthly good : — it was not medi- 
 tative quietude — it was not that fpiritual luxuriouf- 
 nefs which at firft he had aimed at; — but it was a 
 field, and a large field, of ufeful Chriftian labour. 
 
 Of what fort chiefly thefe labours were, the ex- 
 tant writings of Nilus give us fufficient evidence ; 
 or perhaps, without indulging too far in unproved 
 conje61:ures, we might fay that, jufi: now, we have 
 evidences of another kind under our eyes. Within 
 thefe ^QW years paft the ftores of the Britifti Mu- 
 feum have been enriched by ineftimably valuable 
 manufcripts, recovered from the forgotten heaps 
 of the monafteries of the Natron Lakes. A pre- 
 cious fample of thefe treafures — juft given to the 
 world, and confifting of fragments of the Gofpels, 
 of high antiquity, may fairly be looked at in the 
 light of its probable connection with the fubjecSl: 
 of this Eflay. Nilus, himfelf intimately conver- 
 fant with holy Scripture, and holding it in pro- 
 foundeft veneration — himfelf alfo a man of learn- 
 
172 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 ing — a difciple of Chryfoftom — fuch a man, when 
 he found himfelf at the head of a Nitrian monaf- 
 tery, and looked up to as the advifer of the monks 
 of the monafteries of the diftricl, would he not 
 promote, with his utmoft zeal, thofe labours of 
 tranfcription which already were carried on in 
 thefe religious houfes ? We can believe nothing 
 lefs than that it muft have been his delight — his re- 
 creation, to vifit the rooms where the copyifts were 
 at work, and to cheer and fuperintend their labours. 
 Be it that, in faying this, and in believing this, we 
 advance more than we can make good by pofitive 
 evidence. From the ground of thefe furmifes we 
 turn to the extant writings of our NiLUS — abbot 
 of one of thefe monafteries. 
 
 At the moment when, as we have faid, the Pre- 
 fect turned himfelf away from the turmoils and 
 the pomps of the imperial city, his only thought 
 was that of entering upon the delights, fo pure 
 and fo tranquil, of a ftony paradife in the folitudes 
 of Sinai. But from this dream he was rudely 
 awakened, as we have feen, at an early time, by 
 an onflaught of real perils, real fufferings and pri- 
 vations, and of real griefs and cares. Yet this 
 fchooling yielded to him, in due time, much of 
 "the peaceable fruits of righteoufnefs." Nilus, 
 as is manifeft from his writings, had become fami- 
 liarly converfant with holy Scripture ; he had alfo 
 liftened to Chryfoftom ; he had deliberately made 
 his choice as between this world and the nextj 
 
NILUS. 173 
 
 and now, having at length learned what he had 
 needed to learn in a courfe of fufFering, and having 
 convinced himfelf that his firft project; was im- 
 practicable, he betook himfelf to that mode of the 
 afcetic life which he found to be beft fuited to his 
 habits and his ftrength, and alfo more likely to allow 
 of his making himfelf ufeful to others. 
 
 In his pofition as abbot he became known, far 
 and near, as an experienced, and a wife, and faith- 
 ful guide in the exercifes of the religious life. 
 Many had recourfe to him in this capacity — fome 
 by perfonal intercourfe, and many by letter. To 
 thefe he replied in a brief, pointed, and pertinent 
 ftyle ; and a fample of thefe " anfwers to corre- 
 fpondents " fills a folio volume. More than a 
 thoufand of thefe epiftles, addrefled to more than 
 feven hundred individuals, perfons of all orders — 
 monks, deacons, prefbyters, biftiops, abbots, and 
 fecular perfons — are in our hands : we are aflum- 
 ing this collection to be genuine. 
 
 This good man found leifure, moreover, for 
 compofing various tracts and treatifes, longer and 
 fhorter, moft of them, as to their immediate inten- 
 tion, relating to the motives and the practices of 
 the afcetic life. Thefe alfo are of quantity fuffi- 
 cient to fill — verfion and notes inclufive, a bulky 
 folio. Thefe various compofitions give evidence 
 of the writer's deep-felt and unfeigned piety, his 
 keen good fenfe, and his correCl judgment in quef- 
 tions of condu6l and temper; of his independence 
 
174 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 alfo, and his plain-fpoken faithfulnefs, and of his 
 knowledge of holy Scripture, and alfo of the world, 
 and of human nature. As to his afceticifm, we 
 hold it to be a miftake, but it was the fafhion of 
 the times, and juft now we take no account of it. 
 What we do take account of is that which is no 
 fafhion, or whim, of any one age, and which is 
 wholly irrefpe6live of the rife and fall of religious 
 parties, and of thofe fortunes and misfortunes of 
 the Chriflian commonwealth wherewith the paf- 
 fions and the ambition of the forem.oft men of the 
 ao-e were concerned, and which fill out the bulk of 
 what is called church hiftory. 
 
 The extant epiflles of Nilus were (as we have 
 faid) addrefTed to more than feven hundred indi- 
 viduals, and thefe perfons, or moft of them, were 
 either the inmates of the neighbouring religious 
 houfes, or they were men in fecular ofSces, or they 
 were the clergy of the churches of the furrounding 
 diflricls or provinces. To fome of thefe he ad- 
 miniflers rebukes with the utmofl freedom, and 
 even fharpnefs, and yet with difcrimination; to the 
 nugatory queftions of fome he returns a few lines 
 of pertinent reply. Some of the epiifles are of 
 little or no value in any fenfe ; but after fetting 
 thefe ofF, there remains a large number, perhaps 
 the greater number of the whole, that adminifler 
 fpiritual advice to religious perfons who had fought 
 it from him in humility and fincerlty. 
 
 What is it, then, that we ought to infer from 
 
NILUS. 175 
 
 thefe letters of advice ? It is this : that in an age 
 of wide-fpread diforder, an age of theological con- 
 tention, of fhamelefs ambition among churchmen, 
 and of growing fuperftition, there were many — 
 there were more than here and there a one or two 
 — who, in the obfcurity and filence of monafteries, 
 and alfo of private life, were cherifhlng that life 
 of the foul which is the true beginning on earth of 
 a blifsful immortality, and who, with confcientious 
 carefulnefs, were ftriving to bring their difpofitions 
 and their conduct into conformity with the mind of 
 the Saviour Chrift. And now let us afk what it is 
 among the interefts and the occupations of this 
 brief and troubled life that ought to be thought 
 of as real, and fubftantial, and good ; what is it 
 that, after a long experience of the things of life, 
 and an enjoyment, too, of many of its delights, 
 what is it which we come to think and to fpeak 
 of, to thofe who will liflen, as indeed worthy to be 
 fought after and defired — what, but thofe difpo- 
 fitions, thofe affedions, thofe tempers, and thofe 
 courfes of behaviour which, under the Divine dif- 
 cipline and guidance, are the fruit of daily affiduity 
 in the religious life ? 
 
 Dark ages, or bright ages, and through times 
 of fluggifh movement, and through times of pro- 
 grefs and energy, and while the vifible courfe 
 of the world's affairs is profperous, and while it 
 is tempeftuous, and let church hiftorians make 
 a good report, or let them make an ill report of 
 
l^(i 
 
 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 " a century," flill it is always true that a hoft of 
 fouls, unreported of in any chronicle or cenfus, 
 even a "great multitude" of human fpirits, is in 
 training for their places in a kingdom that is not 
 of this world. 
 
ESSAY IV. 
 
 Paula :—High Quality and AJcetic'ifm in the 
 Fourth Century. 
 
 S a teft of the quality of the Chrif- 
 tlanity of any age or people, or of 
 any fmall community, we might take 
 this indication of it — namely, the 
 bearing it is feen to take upon the relative pofition 
 of the fexes. We are told that " in Chrift," that 
 is to fay, under the Chriftian difpenfation, and 
 when this is in its genuine condition, there is 
 " neither male nor female ;" and inafmuch as the 
 facred proprieties of the domeftic relationftiips, and 
 the duties and offices of hufband and wife, parents 
 and children, mafters and fervants, are very care- 
 fully infifted upon throughout the apoftolic writ- 
 ings, this muftmean — not that duties and decorums 
 are forgotten, but that there is a higher and a fpi- 
 ritual fenfe in which all thofe differences and all 
 thofe inequalities which attach to the prefent 
 ftate are merged and ceafe to be appreciable, as 
 
 N 
 
178 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 related to thofe unchanging realities which belong 
 to the life eternal. 
 
 If this be the meaning of the apoftolic rule, then 
 we may conclude it to be certain that, whenever 
 and wherever the Chriftianity of a people fo takes 
 effe6t upon the male and the female halves of fo- 
 ciety as to divorce and disjoin them religioufly, or 
 in refpe6l of their higheft and their fpiritual wel- 
 fare, fuch a fyftem, or the fo-called Chriftianity of 
 a people, has got out of courfe ; as, for inftance, if 
 the fo-called Chriftianity of a people is fuch that it 
 fecures the attachment of few except the women, 
 the children, the infirm, and the aged ; and if it is 
 almoft exclufively, as towards thefe, that the mi- 
 nifters of religion are required to exercife their func- 
 tions, while adult males, with rare exceptions, ftand 
 aloof from it, either in indifference or in contempt ; 
 if things be fo, there can be no room to doubt that 
 the fubftance having long ago been loft from the 
 people's " form of godlinefs," a fpecious exterior 
 is all, or nearly all, that now remains to them. Or 
 if, to take up a very different, or an oppofite fup- 
 pofition, Chriftian belief, in its power, fo takes 
 effe£t upon the male and the female mind as to 
 funder that which " God has joined together," 
 then, and in fuch a cafe, a deep-going error, what- 
 ever it may be, has commingled itfelf with prin- 
 cipal truths, and confequently that much confufion 
 has been let in upon the focial economy, and upon 
 thedomeftic relationfhips. Thus it was in the times 
 
PAULA. 179 
 
 which juft now are under our notice : to what ex- 
 tent it was fo we may beft fee in taking up Tingle 
 inftances, or fuch inftances as are reported to us 
 authentically, and with fufficient amplitude. 
 
 Yet let the reader underftand what is my pur- 
 pofe in this Effay, which, as in the laft, is this, 
 that while we note errors incidentally as we go, we 
 aim to bring out to view whatever is true, and 
 true alike in every age, and which is, or may be 
 fruitful of inftru6lion, to thofe who will think fo, 
 in all times. 
 
 What has been advanced in the preceding EfTay 
 concerning the fimple-hearted Nilus has been 
 gathered from his own narrations, and from his 
 extant letters, and from his other writings ; but now 
 we have no choice but to fift a laudatory memoir, 
 in dealing with which we muft difcharge a mafs 
 of magniloquence and afFedlatlon. It Is the learned 
 and the facund Jerome who is our authority. 
 While at Rome he had become known to more 
 than a fewChriftlan ladies of quality, toward whom 
 he adied as their fpiritual advifer. With fome of 
 thefe ladies he maintained correfpondence after his 
 retirement to Bethlehem ; and fome of them fol- 
 lowed him to Paleftine, and eftablifhed themfelves 
 in religious houfes not remote from his monaftery. 
 Among thefe was the high-born and illuftrious 
 lady, the " Paula, faint, and widow, and abbefs," 
 as we find her named in the Romlfh and Eaftern 
 calendars. 
 
i8o ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 Picked from out of fome half-dozen of Jerome's 
 epiftles, the biography of this lady-afcetic is briefly 
 this: — By parentage and by marriage alfo (he ftood 
 related to the ancient ariftocracy of Rome ; the 
 great hifloric names of the republican times fhed 
 a fplendour upon her houfe : fo we are told. Ample 
 revenues, moreover, vi^ere hers: — Nobilis genere, 
 fed multo nobilior fan6titate : potens quondam di- 
 vitiis, fed nunc Chrifti paupertate infignior. And 
 we muft infer that the family eftates or revenues, 
 or a large portion of them, inftead of having been 
 furrendered or alienated when fhe retired from the 
 world, continued to be at her difpofal, for to the 
 laft fhe was a builder of churches and a founder 
 of monafteries. 
 
 Paula, rich and noble, had married early. Her 
 hufband, as rich and noble as herfelf, had died, 
 leaving a fon and four daughters to the care of 
 their mother, herfelf ftill young. Of thefe daugh- 
 ters one, named Euftochium, has taken a place in 
 the faint-lift of the Churches, and is known efpe- 
 cially as the difciple and the favoured correfpondent 
 of Jerome. She was a lady fo learned, that this 
 great writer did not hefitate to addrefs to her fome 
 of the moft important of his critical and ethical 
 writings. At the time when fhe loft her hufband, 
 Paula was, in mind and habit, in andof the world : 
 her widowhood dated from her thirty-fecond year. 
 This fharp affli6tion threw her into the fociety of 
 a " holy widow" and a fevere afcetic, then highly 
 
PAULA i8i 
 
 reputed in the Chriftian circles of Rome. Yield- 
 ing herfelf to the guidance of this friend, {he fought 
 and found an afluagement of thofe griefs that are 
 earthly only, in an abfolute dedication of herfelf, 
 body and foul, to God — a vow, made in conformity 
 with the fafliion of the times. This dedication 
 implied, firft, a vow not to contra6t a fecond mar- 
 riage ; and then the adoption of thofe aufterities to 
 which fo much merit and importance had come to 
 be attached in the opinion of the ancient Church. 
 Rome was, at that time, as always it has been, 
 a centre, vifited by holy bifhops from far and near; 
 and fo it happened that the wealthy Paula (fuch 
 things do not belong exclufively to one age, but 
 meet us in every age) thought herfelf only too 
 much honoured, and the moft happy of women, 
 when thefe reverend perfons condefcended to be 
 her guefts. In converfe with fome of thefe (among 
 them was the noted Epiphanius of Cyprus) fhe had 
 liftened, with intenfity of feeling, to glowing de- 
 fcriptions of the holy places of Paleftine, and the 
 neighbouring Bible countries. Her enthufiafm had 
 become inflamed; and her longing defire to fet 
 foot upon the facred foil, and to kneel at altars, 
 and to kifs footprints, had rifen to a pitch of irre- 
 fiftible impatience. The paffion for pilgrimage had 
 become fo ftrong that no obligations, no natural 
 ties, no maternal inftinfts, could refl:rain it : it had 
 pofTefTed itfelf of her foul. Some of the holy 
 bifhops with whom fhe had converfed, and who 
 
i82 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 had been her guefts, were now returning to their 
 fees in the Eaft. The zealous polemic, Epipha- 
 nius of Cyprus, was about to do fo. Paula took 
 her pafFage in the vefTel in which thefe bifhops were 
 about to embark. Her near relatives, and her fur- 
 viving children, attended her to the water's edge : 
 her fon, ftill quite young, and confcious of his need 
 of a mother's care at Rome, clung to her, and, 
 with floods of tears and loud entreaties, befought 
 her not to defert him ; or at leaf!: to delay a little 
 while the rending of this tie. But the Roman 
 lady — the defcendant of heroic patricians, is of 
 firmer mould of mind than to be thus turned from 
 her purpofe; a young mother's eyes are moiftened 
 by no tears while (he looks heavenward, and, fti- 
 fling nature, obeys, as {he thinks, the call of hea- 
 ven — ilia ficcos tendebat ad caelum oculos, pieta- 
 tem in filios pietate in Deum fuperans. But why 
 fhould fhe not read the will of heaven where it is 
 written in the Book — written plainly enough ? 
 Yet juft now we keep another purpofe in view, 
 and are not intending to find fault, but to find 
 Chriftian energies. Aufpicious winds filled the 
 fails, and the heights of Cyprus foon came into 
 view. Paula and her daughter, Euftochium — and 
 fhe, with her new vows upon her, and both of them 
 dead to the world, as they thought (in intention 
 they were fo) and cut off from its gentle affec- 
 tions, fet foot on the ifland where churches and 
 monafteries had everywhere fupplanted temples. 
 
PAVLA. 183 
 
 After a fhort flay with the holy biftiop, the 
 mother and the daughter — or, as we fhould now fay 
 — the two " fifters," the elder and the younger — 
 embarked anew, foon to fet an impatient foot upon 
 the facred fhore of Paleftine. We {hould gain little 
 of entertainment, and little of edification, in follow- 
 ing thefe ladies, as they pafTed from fpot to fpot 
 throughout Paleftine — Jerome their guide, or at 
 leaft the learned expofitor, and the journalift of the 
 tour. At Bethlehem, near to him, fhe at length 
 fixed her abode. For three years it was in a road- 
 fide public-houfe — angufto per triennium manfit 
 hofpiteolo — but afterwards fhe eftablifhed herfelf 
 in a commodious monaftery, which fhe had caufed 
 to be conftruded near at hand, and into which 
 many devoted women were in courfe of time ad- 
 mitted. 
 
 In her journeys throughout Paleftine, and in her 
 frequent vifitations of the religious houfes and the 
 hermitages, far and near, in Egypt and in the Arabian 
 defert, this Roman lady, who heretofore had been 
 wont to travel in a luxurious palanquin, borne on 
 the fhoulders of eunuchs, was content to ride upon 
 an afs ; and fhe did this under the fervours of the 
 fun of Syria and of Egypt. Before her departure 
 from Italy fhe had adopted, and had learned to en- 
 dure, thofe aufterities which were the conditions 
 and the chara6leriftics of the " afcetic philofophy." 
 We are afTured that from the moment of her vow 
 fhe never fat at table with a man — no, not even a. 
 
1 84 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 holy bifhop — nor ever fpoke with any man otherwife 
 than in public. She eat no meat ; fhe abftained 
 from fifti, eggs, honey, and wine : oil fhe ufed only 
 on holidays : flie lay upon a ftone floor, with a 
 fackcloth mat. Her time was fpent in prayer, in 
 almfgiving, in vifitations of the fick ; and at length 
 in the government of the religious focieties which 
 fhe had eflablifhed. In thefe houfes the ftri^lefl 
 difciplinewas obferved; the feven times of devotion 
 were pun6lually regarded: the Pfalter, entire, was 
 daily recited : the dietary was of the very fimpleft 
 kind, and the fafls were fevere and frequent. All 
 the nuns wore the fame fombre habit, and all took 
 their turn in performing the menial offices of the 
 houfe. In a word, the afcetic regimen, which in 
 all times has been very much the fame in its vifible 
 afpe6l, and in its feverities, was, in this inflance, 
 if we may take the extant records of it as our 
 truflworthy authority, fully realized. 
 
 We have already faid that this Roman lady re- 
 tained her patrimonial wealth : it mufl have been 
 fo ; for in addition to extenfive almfgiving, prac- 
 tifed in and around her eflablifhments, fhe built 
 churches and monafleries, very many ; and in doing 
 fo fhe gave evidence of her confiftency and her 
 good fenfe, for fhe excluded all coftly decorations 
 from them. The church, or the monaftery, was fo 
 conftrudled, and was fo furnifhed, and fo embel- 
 lifhed, as that it fhould befl fubferve its profefTed 
 purpofeSj namely, the promotion of piety, and the 
 
PAULA. 185 
 
 welfare of the indigent. Thus occupied, and thus 
 living in earneft, according to the light of her times, 
 fhe pafled about twenty- years in her feclufion at 
 Bethlehem, and there fhe died, a pattern of Chrif- 
 tian affiduity and of unity of purpofe — living a life 
 on earth which in all things was intended to fecure 
 the life eternal. 
 
 With what belongs exclufively to the religious 
 fafhions of the times we have nothing now to do ; 
 but we have this to fay, that although it was not 
 in the intention or the thoughts of the Chriftian 
 men and women of the afcetic ages, a moral pro- 
 cefs was then in courfe, to trace which, from its 
 commencements, we muft look back from the 
 fifth century, five hundred years. This was a 
 procefs which, even now, has not quite reached 
 its completion ; for it fhall then only be complete 
 when Chriflian principles and Chriflian morahties 
 fhall thoroughly have taken efFeif: upon the focial 
 fyflem — that fyflem being moulded chiefly by the 
 influence of Chriftian women — women in their 
 fphere — not out of it. 
 
 A page or two may fuffice for fetting forth what 
 we here intend. 
 
 If five hundred years be reckoned back from 
 the times now in our view, they bring us into the 
 fcenes of that critical time when a right-hearted 
 few among the Jewifh people were nobly contend- 
 ing for Great Truths with the ferocious Antiochus. 
 It was then, and it was thenar/?, that thefe great 
 
i86 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 truths — even the main matters of the " law and the 
 prophets," came to be fealed in blood upon the na- 
 tional mind ; and it was then alfo that a glimmer, 
 and more than a glimmer, of a bright immortality, 
 had come to fhine upon that mind. But it was 
 then alfo that another confequence of the ftruggle, 
 — moft deeply touching the well-being of the nations 
 that ages afterwards were to become Chriftian — 
 rifes to view on the ftage of religious hiftory. It 
 was in the courfe of that fame cruel confli6f that 
 Woman firft made good her title to be regarded as 
 man's companion, and as quite his equal in moral 
 greatnefs, in courage, in conftancy, and in con- 
 fiftency : it was then that " out of the wealcnefs" 
 of herfexual difparlty fhe not only became " flrong," 
 but fhe very often proved herfelf to be, as in all 
 martyr times fhe has been — the ftronger of the 
 two ; and this, not in the inftance of here and 
 there a heroine, but, in very frequent inftances, 
 even though of the feebleft bodily framework. It 
 was then, and then firft, perhaps, that the mind of 
 woman — quickened by the definite conception of a 
 refurre61:ion to life, even to " a/'^//^rrefurre6tion," 
 thenceforward took her place as the teacher and 
 exemplar of a pure, a firm, a lofty morality ; flie 
 did fo as wife, as mother, as fifter. 
 
 The moral refults and the religious traditions of 
 thofe times of fuffering had held themfelves entire, 
 in many Jewifh homes, throughout the years of the 
 following century ; and fo it was that they came 
 
PAULJ. 187 
 
 up, and we recognize them afrefh in the Gofpel 
 narratives. If there be anything in the wide com- 
 pafs of ancient hiftory that — out of all queftion, is 
 genuine, is true — it is — woman's part in the Gofpel 
 hiftory. Who could then have imagined, and 
 who fhould have invented thefe incidents, and 
 thefe brief utterances of pure, deep, feminine feel- 
 ing ? The Jewifti women of that time had not 
 been moulded by Chriftianity ; for they had already 
 been created, and had received their training, in 
 preparation for its arrival. The doctrine which 
 was to give moral greatnefs, along with meeknefs 
 and purity, to thofe who fhould receive it, lodged 
 itfelf at once in the mature hearts of Jewifh wo- 
 men who, in a true fenfe, were the daughters of 
 the noble women of the Maccabean age. 
 
 The preparation for the Gofpel, in every city of 
 the Roman world, was the Judaifm it found there 
 — with its Holy Scripture — Mofes, and the Pro- 
 phets, and the Pfalms, read every Sabbath in the 
 fynagogues. But this was not all ; for an order of 
 feeling and a mode of condud: which neither the 
 Grecian nor the Roman civilization could at all 
 fupply, or could imitate, were everywhere in rea- 
 dinefs among thofe women — whether Jewifti or 
 Grecian, who had long been the ftated frequenters 
 of the Sabbath fervices in the fynagogue. Thus 
 it was that the principal element of our modern 
 focial well-being — that one element which is the 
 fource and the reafon of whatever is pure, and 
 
1 88 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 loving, and right in the domeftic relationfhips, was 
 provided for, and v/as immediately realized, in the 
 apoftolic focieties. Women, a6ling in their inde- 
 pendent moral individuality ., took their place as 
 members of the Church ; and they became alfo — 
 for fervices fuited to them — its minifters. 
 
 At how early a time this genuine and moft auf- 
 picious evangelic pofition of woman in the Church 
 came to be interfered with and loft, none can now tell 
 us. At the earlieft time at which our materials are 
 more than mere fragments, the mifchief had made 
 great progrefs. Inafmuch as the afcetic philofophy 
 had taken up the fenfuous and oriental idea of 
 purity, and thus had actually fenfualized, by un- 
 wifely attempting to refine, thofe feelings which 
 are fpecially feminine, the tendency of it was again 
 to degrade woman, and fo to nullify the claim fhe 
 had long before made valid, as able to take her 
 place of companionfhip, and of abfolute moral 
 equality, by the fide of man. 
 
 And thus it was that another courfe of fevere 
 and long-continued fuffering had become the ne- 
 ceflary means of arrefting the downward progrefs 
 of things. The Antiochus of the Maccabean times 
 found philofophic emperors and prefe6ls — even 
 fome of the choiceft men of imperial Rome, who 
 were well inclined to take up his unfinifhed work. 
 So it was that once again, in the unmoved en- 
 durance of " cruel mockings and fcourgings" and 
 of fiery tortures, woman — Chriftian woman, chal- 
 
PAULA. 189 
 
 lenged anew her equality with man ; and nobly 
 did {he then win the praife of pofTeffing " a like 
 precious faith," and a like courage, and, if not the 
 fame bodily nerve, yet a ftrength of foul which 
 ftood proof againft the far keener anguifh which 
 fhe felt, as of feebler frame. So it was at a very 
 early time, as we are authentically told, not only 
 by Chriftian memorialifts, but alfo by a Roman 
 gentleman and pedant, who coldly fays that he, 
 and his ruffian tormenters had been quite baffled 
 by the firmnefs of two young women of fervile 
 condition, whofe conftancy he had put to the teft 
 — all to no purpofe, for he could wring no crimi- 
 nating confeffion from them. 
 
 The martyr times — a two hundred years, or 
 more, of intermittent fufFering — reckoning from 
 Trajan to Diocletian, had not only ferved to give 
 to Chriftianity its proper atteftation, but, in doing 
 fo, it had again made fure of this — its vitalizing 
 principle, namely — the moral pofition of woman as 
 man's equal in the fight of God. But the martyr 
 age had now pafTed by, and even before it had 
 reached its end, the conftant tendency of the focial 
 fyftem to fall out of its due equilibrium had again 
 fhown itfelf in the prevalence of thofe fpurious 
 notions of purity which never fail deeply to difturb 
 the relationfhip of the fexes. Neverthelefs, this 
 difturbance (to make a new experiment upon 
 which, in this age, would be an extreme ^oWy) 
 had found fome compenfations ; and, in refpe6t of 
 
igo ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 thofe long ages of European barbarifm which were 
 to fucceed, it fubferved purpofes which were highly 
 important ; but thefe have often been fpecified. 
 
 We return, for a moment, to the lady abbefs, 
 who, like our friend Nilus, foon came into a po- 
 rtion of authority and of extenfive influence ; for 
 fhe not only governed the religious houfes which 
 fhe had founded, but fhe made periodic circuits, or, 
 as we may call them, vifitations, profefTedly, per- 
 haps, for her own edification, in converfe with the 
 reclufes ; but, no doubt, fhe was welcomed among 
 them as an advifer, and as one who was vefted 
 with a virtual authority, and who fpoke as the fupe- 
 rior of a large community, fcattered over the lower 
 Egypt, the Arabian defert, and Southern Paleftine. 
 
 Nilus, as abbot, had turned to good account 
 the magifterial habits of his early life j and his ftyle 
 and deportment, and his knowledge of the world 
 gave him an advantage which would foon be re- 
 cognized and fubmitted to. Paula, as abbefs, 
 might believe that {he had laid afide, for ever, and 
 had forgotten, the demeanour, the tones of voice, 
 the graceful geftures, the inftincls of birth, of 
 rank, and of wealth ; but fhould we have thought 
 fo, if it had chanced to us to fee her, followed 
 by her bevy of nuns, as fhe glided forwards to her 
 place in church on an Eafter Sunday morning ? 
 If we wi{h to imagine this high-born perfonage 
 of the fourth century, we might be aided in doing 
 fo by looking at the portrait of her counterpart of 
 
PAULA, 191 
 
 the feventeenth century — the Mother Angelica 
 Arnauld,abbers titular of Port Royal; both of them 
 lofty-minded women ; but in both of them there 
 "dwelt richly" that " word of Chrift," which, 
 while it ennobles the meaneft fouls, brings low the 
 loftieft ; that word which, in its bearing upon the 
 mind, and the condu6t, and the affections of wo- 
 man, infpires her with a courage not at all inferior 
 to that of man, and which, while it does fo, abates 
 nothing of her gentlenefs, or of that devotednefs to 
 the welfare of others which is efpecially her cha- 
 ra61:erifl:ic. 
 
 We fhould not quite forget Paula's fpiritual 
 director through life, and her eloquent panegyrift. 
 Jerome's powerful intelledl, his extraordinary ac- 
 complifhments, and his knowledge of the world ; 
 and perhaps, alfo, the blandifhments of his per- 
 fonal manners, when he found himfelf among per- 
 fons of rank, had made him the obje6l of many 
 flattering attentions from women of this clafs. 
 Such were Paula and her daughter Eustochium. 
 Everything, in this fpecies of intercourfe, was right 
 and fafe, and was far remote from fcandal ; it was 
 fanftioned by the religious notions of the times — ■ 
 by the prominent pofition of the parties, and by 
 thofe auftere decorums which were everywhere 
 regarded by leading perfons in the Church. But 
 there was then (and the fame ingredients in human 
 nature will, in every age, fhow their prefence) — 
 there was then prevalent much of that fort of unc- 
 
192 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 tious adulatory interchange of fplritual courtefies 
 which has place between favoured clerical perfons, 
 and high-born religious women. This ftyle is 
 rendered peculiar by the fpeciality of the conditions 
 under which it arifes ; for, juft in proportion as it 
 ftands far removed from a touch or breath of 
 fcandal, it becomes fo much the more intenfe in 
 its own quality, and, whatever that quality may 
 be, the rea£lion upon thofe concerned is fo much 
 the more real, as it is exempted from the fufpicions 
 of both by the confcious re6fitude of each. If 
 now it were afked on which fide this peculiar influ- 
 ence produces its moft marked refults, we (hould 
 incline to fay that it is on the fide of the clerical 
 recipients of this purely-meant feminine devotion ; 
 — in thefe inftances the idol fuffers more injury 
 than the worfhipper. It might not be very diflni- 
 cult to trace its prefence in the rofy colour it 
 ftieds upon certain phafes of doctrine, or in the 
 fmooth rhythm of our religious conventionalifms ; 
 or, in the tone and ftyle of pulpit, and ftill more, 
 of platform oratory. But how has this perfumed 
 and z ephyr-like adulation been accepted, in dif- 
 ferent times, by clerical perfons ? 
 
 Might we here indulge in fketching a pi6lure 
 or two which may offer fome curious contrafts ? 
 Let us think, then, in the firft place, of the group 
 of which Jerome's brief notices furnifh the out- 
 lines. On a rugged, pathlefs afcent of the rocky 
 region, which is within a day's journey of the 
 
PAULA 193 
 
 Holy City, we fee a company advancing : — there 
 is that accompliflied theologue — the terror of Vi- 
 gilantius, and of all fuch-lilce heretics, but the 
 courteous companion of orthodox afceticladies: it 
 is Jerome who leads the way. Under the blaze 
 of a Syrian fummer's noon, he rides an afs ; he has 
 drawn his monks' hood far enough over his face 
 to throw his fharp, prominent features into a half 
 fhade, which Rembrandt would have caught at. 
 At a little diftance in the rear — and fhe alfo riding 
 an afs — follows the graceful defcendant of the he- 
 roes of Livy's fabulous books : it is the lady Paula. 
 She defies the fcorching beams, and flie welcomes 
 her fufferings as a fort of martyrdom : by her fide, 
 or lagging a little in the rear, and fhe alfo feated 
 on an afs, is the fair nun, the pupil of Jerome in 
 Greek and Hebrew. She ftoops and languifhes, 
 but fhe will not be girl enough to utter a petulant 
 murmur. Yet it was not thus that Euftochium 
 was ufed to pafs along the broad ways of Rome : 
 yet all now is right in her mind, and fhe enjoys 
 inward peace : then follow the attendants, with a 
 wild Arab or two, hired as guides and guards ; 
 thefe, wrapped in their mantles, and poifing their 
 long lances on the (boulder, mufe as they go ; or 
 mufe not at all ; but if they do mufe, it is upon the 
 whim — fo unintelligible — which prompts fuch per- 
 fons to endure fuch a journey only to gaze at 
 ftones ! 
 
 If we turn from this fcene, and look toward the 
 o 
 
194 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 weftern world, we may fee the humble — the 
 haughty, St. Martin lounging on a divan in the pa- 
 lace of a Cnefcir, his low-bred prefbyters and dea- 
 cons, reclining on velvet, to the right and left of 
 him. Kneeling at his feet, and not daring to 
 raife her eyes fo as ftedfaftly to gaze upon the 
 faintly vifage — kneeling at the feet of this monk, 
 there is an emprefs — and this emprefs all but 
 fpurned ! 
 
 Now, for the fake of a needed refrefhment, 
 fhall we defcend the ftream of ages, and, brunting 
 the chilling fogs of a winter's afternoon, in Eng- 
 land, take our place by the roadfide ? Here comes 
 the Bedfordfhire tinker and the roughly-ufed Bap- 
 tift preacher ; he is mounted on a raw-boned 
 mare ; he is on his way to " A4eeting" at a five- 
 mile-aft barn, and he has confented to allow the 
 farmer's wife (the farmer is his good deacon, and 
 the fharer of his pafl perfecutions, and fhe is a 
 buxom perfon) to take her place behind him on 
 the pillion. The way is long, the ruts are deep, 
 the evening is cheerlefs ; but John Bunyan, though 
 of focial temperament, is a fhrewd man and wife ; 
 and he is a great mafter of human nature, and fo 
 he jogs on in bluff filence. He hears no woman's 
 flatteries ; probably they would not have been 
 offered to him ; he invites no converfation ; he 
 will liften to none : he is intent upon getting a 
 better hold of his " ninth head of difcourfe." 
 John Bunyan has determined to keep himfelf al- 
 
PAULA. 195 
 
 ways on the fafe fide of things. Has he not given 
 us lively portraits of Madame Wanton, and of 
 Mrs. Inconfiderate, and of Mrs. Lightmind, and 
 of others ? As a minifter he has one rule of con- 
 dud ; it is not the afcetic rule, but it is not the lefs 
 efficacious ; it is far more fo : — it is puritanic ; and 
 if we will follow him to " Meeting," and will there 
 liften to the hour-and-half fermon, we fhall find 
 that a confident and a high-toned morality is the 
 preacher's interpretation of that Gofpel, which he 
 proclaims, even as glad tidings for the " chief of 
 finners." 
 
 Shall we come down another hundred years ? 
 It may be a November evening, or it may be a 
 May morning — no matter, for the gentle and true- 
 hearted George Whitefield is fnugly feated by the 
 fide of that noble-hearted lady, the Countefs of 
 Huntingdon ; fhe, as pure as purity itfelf ; and her 
 clerical friend blamelefs, if ever man has been 
 blamelefs ; or we may find him in her ladylhip's 
 drawing-room : he is the man of the fplendid 
 company, although there be prefent the chief wits 
 of the time — Chefterfield, Garrick, Littleton. 
 What now is there in all this which fhould call 
 for criticifm or ferious reprehenfion ? Nothing ; 
 and yet it may be permitted us to fay that when 
 the minifters of reh'gion allow themfelves to ac- 
 cept freely thofe warm teftimonies of regard which 
 their female hearers and followers are fo prompt 
 to render to them, they are likely to pafs into an 
 
196 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 ambiguous mental condition, which intercepts the 
 free exchange of thought between themfelves and 
 the men — the laymen — of their focial and paftoral 
 circles. Thus it comes about that fermons are 
 compofed and delivered which women eagerly ap- 
 plaud, but which men liften to with far lefs than 
 thorough fatisfa6lion : they too may applaud, for 
 the preacher is eloquent, and they believe him to 
 be fincere ; yet thefe educated laymen come out 
 of church convinced on no one queftionable point ; 
 and they feel that while the flender and foft ex- 
 periences of female religious life are underftood, 
 and are duly treated by the preacher, the hard, the 
 arduous, the perplexing, the titan realities of man's 
 courfe through this difficult world — thefe ftrong 
 things, are either not grappled with at all, or they 
 are always mifunderftood, as a man mifunderftandS 
 things which he has never feen otherwife than at 
 a diftance, and through a mift. 
 
ESSAY V. 
 
 Theodofius : — Pagan Ufages^ and the Chrijlian 
 Magiftrate, 
 
 ITUATIONS which, at a glance, 
 may attra6t our attention and invite 
 comparifon by their apparent fimila- 
 rity, will often, on nearer view, in- 
 ftead of being identical, fcarcely prefent an element 
 of analogy. At this moment the Britifh Rule is, 
 year by year, extending itfelf, as if it were never 
 to reach its limit, and it embraces all races of men 
 and all their religions. All beliefs, and every variety 
 of ufage are thus coming continually into more in- 
 timate, and therefore into more difficult, relation- 
 fhip with modes of feeling which can have no 
 fympathy therewith, and with creeds towards which 
 the European mind can barely conceal its con- 
 tempt, and — as a climax of perplexity — with infti- 
 tutions that are abominable — that are infufferable, 
 and that are wholly incompatible with even the 
 moft lax rule for the maintenance of public order. 
 
198 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 The Britifh domination in India is that of 
 a profefledly Chriftian Power over fubjugated 
 heathens ; — a difficult pofition : but fhall we not 
 find fome kind of guidance, cautionary guidance, 
 at leaft, in looking back to thofe times when 
 Chriftian magiftrates extended, as we do now, 
 the fceptre and the fword widely over pagan popu- 
 lations ? There was a time when the magiftrate, 
 abfolute and irrefponfible as he was, and himfelf 
 undoubtedly Chriftian as to his perfonal beliefs, 
 iflued edicts, and enforced them too, over all 
 countries around the Mediterranean : and he 
 did fo while a many-coloured polytheifm was ftill 
 the profeffion, and gave law to the habits, of the 
 great mafs of the people, high and low. Indivi- 
 dual emperors, from Conftantine to Juftinian, dif- 
 fered much in ability, and in perfonal merits, and 
 in pofition alfo ; neverthelefs they, or the later 
 emperors, purfued a courfe toward the paganifm 
 of their times, toward the heathen populace, and 
 toward the priefts of the antiquated idolatries, 
 which might be reprefented as uniform and co- 
 herent, and which was fuch as might be fpoken 
 of as " a policy." 
 
 Might not, then, that policy be fpread forth to 
 view, and be made ufe of as an exemplar which 
 we fhould do well to imitate, even now, when we 
 are called upon anew, by the recent courfe of 
 events, to confider and to reconfider thofe prin- 
 ciples under the guidance of which we intend 
 
THEODOSIUS. 199 
 
 henceforward to govern countries containing a 
 fifth part of the human family ? Moft of thefe peo- 
 ple are polytheifts, or thofe of them that are mo- 
 notheifts are ftill more difficult to be dealt with, 
 for they are fanatics for their one truth. 
 
 No doubt there are thofe among us who, ac- 
 cepting the commendations that are beftowed by 
 the Church writers of the fourth and fifth cen- 
 turies upon the pious and zealous emperors of 
 thofe times, would, with little hefitation, take 
 pattern by thefe Chriftian magiftrates, and would 
 even outdo them in the fervour of their endeavours 
 to trample out the fmouldering fires of every falfe 
 worfhip. But if a caution were needed for arreft- 
 ing the courfe of any fuch zeal as this, it might 
 foon be found in looking to the fa6ts of the alleged 
 cafe ; for in doing fo, we may prefently become 
 convinced that, in almoft every inftance of an ap- 
 parent analogy between the two fituations, the 
 refemblance is apparent only ; while the difference, 
 or the contrariety, is real and extreme. 
 
 Thefe points of difference, or thefe contrarieties, 
 are obvious, and they may be foon enumerated : 
 they are fuch as thefe, and our comparifon is that 
 which prefents itfelf in bringing under the eye the 
 Roman Imperial government, from the time of 
 Conftantine's declaration in favour of Chriflianity, 
 to a late time, when paganifm had everywhere gone 
 down, as a feculent fediment, refling at the very 
 bottom of the focial mafs : or it would be enough 
 
200 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 if we fhould take as our limit the latter years of 
 the reign of Juflinian. 
 
 After fome fmall exceptive inftances, belonging 
 to the outfkirts of the empire, have been allowed 
 for, then it may be faid that the mafter of the 
 Roman world, for the time being, or its mafters 
 — eaft and weft, ruled their own : the ciHcvfXEvv 
 was their patrimony : its centre was the head and 
 the heart of a living body which, throughout long 
 periods, had throbbed with one pulfe, and had 
 moved with one intention. The wide interpre- 
 tation given to the right and privilege of Roman 
 citizenfhip had related all to all, and all to the one 
 fource of power. The nations, diverfe as they 
 were, had now, through ages, looked up from the 
 eaft and from the weft, from the north and from 
 the fouth, to the one refplendent orb of imperial 
 wifdom, and had all kept the ear attent to the 
 one voice — whether a thunder or a whifper — of 
 the imperial will. The nations " under the whole 
 heavens" acknowled2;ed the rio;htfulnefs as well as 
 the power of the imperial rule, and they gloried in 
 its glories, as well as bowed their necks to its forces. 
 
 How can a political condition of nations, fuch 
 as this, be brought into comparifon with a condi- 
 tion fo utterly unlike it as is that of the nations and 
 races which have been brought to pay tribute to 
 the Committee aflembling in Leadenhall-ftreet ? 
 The difference here is fuch as to imply and to 
 embrace all other imaginable diflimilarities, and it 
 
THEODOSIUS. 20I 
 
 is fo great as that it might be held to excufe our 
 declining to inftitute any comparifon at all be- 
 tween the two cafes. Can it be rightful, or would 
 it be politic, or fhall it be fafe, to ena6l in India, 
 as from London, that which was enacted for the 
 Roman world, from Conftantinople ? The pagan 
 populace in remote countries, and its priefts, might 
 think themfelves aggrieved by certain edidls, or 
 harfhly-ufed by fome over-zealous Chriftian Pre- 
 io.^ ; but the Roman people at large — the hundred 
 nations of the oIhouiAvy]^ did not feel itfelf aggrieved ; 
 it was their own Caefar who had fpoken. Every- 
 thing has an oppofite afpe6l in the modern inftance. 
 Nations trodden to the earth by a race that is 
 gifted with more nerve and mind, and that has am- 
 pler means than their own, are writhing beneath 
 the felfifh foot of a detefted invader, whofe mifun- 
 derftood beneficences are, in their view, ten times 
 over-paid for by the rigours of his fifcal exadions. 
 Warrantably fo, or not, this is, and this muft, for 
 long years to come, be the afpe6l under which 
 Britifh fupremacy is regarded by the nations of 
 India. Again the grounds of comparifon fail us, 
 if we confider what had been the training of the 
 Roman mind up to the time of the Chriilianizing 
 of the empire, and what has been that of the 
 people of India, and what their preparation for ac- 
 cepting the religion of their European mafters. 
 
 The nations, eaft and weft, that were embraced 
 in the circle of the empire, at the time now in 
 
202 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 view, had all become partakers in the fame civili- 
 zation ; they had all drank at the fame fountains 
 of knowledge ; there was one mind-world : there 
 was, and there had long been, a communion of 
 thought, and a brotherhood in fcience, and in phi- 
 lofophy, and in poetry and art, the Greek lan- 
 guage being the medium of this intelle6lual com- 
 merce. Even the people of the Syrian ftock had 
 taken up and had affimilated the mental and moral 
 aliment that was fupplied to them by the poets, 
 the orators, and the fages of Greece. So it was, 
 therefore, that when the Chriftian argument, fuch 
 as we find it fet forth in the pages of its affailants, 
 and of its apologifts, of the third, fourth, and fifth 
 centuries, was brought forward, it was carried on 
 in the hearing of all men of the educated clafles, 
 from border to border of the Roman world. All 
 men, or all who chofe to give an ear to a contro- 
 ver/y of this kind, had become more or lefs well 
 informed of the grounds and the merits of the 
 caufe which was then at ifTue between the Church 
 and the Polytheiftic religions. 
 
 Confequently, at the moment when the Im- 
 perial edi6l ftartled the Roman world, a brief 
 feafon of furprife was all the fhock that men's 
 minds were fubje6led to in learning that Chrifti- 
 anity had at length got the ftart of its rivals. At 
 a later time, and when meafures of a more decifive 
 kind were carried out in its favour, and in dif- 
 couragement of the waning fuperftitions, nothing 
 
THEODOSIUS. 203 
 
 that could be unintelligible to either party took 
 place ; nothing was done for which a preparation 
 had not been made in the thought and the feeling 
 of all concerned. Edi6ls, touching the temples 
 and the ufages of heathenifm, were only the often- 
 fible a6ls and the fteps in a tranfition which all 
 men felt had been taking its flow and inevitable 
 courfe around them, for a long while. 
 
 Nothing that refembles, even remotely, this re- 
 lative pofition of Chriftianity and heathenifm, at- 
 taches to the conta6l of the former with the latter 
 in India in thefe times. If the people of India 
 were indeed of another race, and if they fpoke lan- 
 guages older than Babel, and if their fuperftitions 
 had arifen millenniums ago out of the infernal pit 
 — or defcribe their intelle6tual and religious ftate 
 in terms as ftrong as any we can find, we fhall 
 fcarcely overftate the fadl of the incom.municable 
 divulilon of the two worlds of thought and feeling 
 — the European and the Hindoo-oriental. Athwart 
 the bottomlefs gulf which divides the one world 
 from the other world, nothing pafTes to and fro : 
 or nothing; — in its o-enuine form. 
 
 It is true that, annually, fome fcores of Hindoo 
 youths — the frequenters of non-Chriflian colleges, 
 acquire enough Englifh to read Shakefpeare and 
 our Quarterly Reviews, and to make us believe 
 that India has now fet foot upon the field of Eu- 
 ropean thought. But we mufl not trufl ourfelves 
 to any fuch films of correfpondence as this ; we 
 
204 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 fhould not (o eafily perfuade ourfelves that the na- 
 tions of India are coming near to us, either morally 
 or intellectually, or that they are able to affent to 
 our hiftorical beliefs with an enlightened confciouf- 
 nefs of the grounds of any fuch alient. Hindoos 
 may indeed accept the Gofpel at our hands, and, 
 if they do {o^ it will bring its blelTings with it, to 
 their infinite benefit individually, and there may 
 be hundreds of converfions, and Miffionary So- 
 cieties may be warranted in appealing to their fuc- 
 cefTes ; — neverthclefs, the nations with their mil- 
 lions that have come under our rule in the Eaft 
 itill remain incalculably remote from any condition 
 which fhould qualify them fairly and knowingly to 
 adjudge the caufe at ifl'ue between the feveral re- 
 ligions of their anceftors, and the one religion of 
 their mafters — their conquerors. Our inference, 
 therefore, is this : That thofe meafures for the 
 maintenance of Chriftianity and for the fuppre/Iion 
 and removal of polythelfm, which the Chriftian 
 emperors of the fourth century might warrantably 
 adopt, cannot, for a moment, be thought of as ap- 
 plicable, under any modifications, for efFedting 
 fimilar purpofes, by ourfelves, in India. 
 
 Throughout that period during which Chrifti- 
 anityand Paganifm were in conflidl: and in balance, 
 and while the ifTue might ftill feem doubtful, there 
 was, on the one fide, not only a doctrine and a 
 fyftem of morality which were allowed to be infi- 
 nitely fuperior to anything that could be found on 
 
THEODOSIUS. 205 
 
 the other fide, but along with this fuperiority, and 
 as its confequence, there was a determinate beh"ef, 
 held by thoufiinds o^ men and women with a ful- 
 nefs ot perfuafion and an attachment, immoveably 
 firm. On the other fide there was nothing more 
 fiibfiantial than popular beliefs, vv'hich, long before 
 the time of this conflict, had come to be fpurned 
 and ridiculed by fages and their difciples. Thefe 
 relics of paganifm, thefe ceremonies, and thefe 
 domefiic worfhips, which were fuftained by no 
 vital forces, might be likened to the faded coftumes 
 and the dingy embroidered trappings that are feen 
 bagging upon the wooden effigies of the kings and 
 knights of the middle ages. The worn out, the 
 tattered and botched heathenifm, which Julian 
 fancied he might make to (land again upon its 
 legs, was everywhere, and in every city of the em- 
 pire, and in almoll: everv home, confronted with 
 the truth, the reafon, the living and the fiirring 
 energies of the Chriilian faith. 
 
 How, then, can a paralleli%i be thought to hold 
 when we turn from the doings of the Roman 
 world, in the times of Theodofius II. to the 
 policy and the meafures lately purfued, or now 
 intended to be purfued, in India? 
 
 Often, during thefe forty years paft, benevolent 
 audiences have been afTured from platforms that 
 the fuperftitions of India were waning — were dying 
 out from the mind of the people, and that Satan's 
 empire was tottering to its fall \ — a little while, 
 
2o6 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 and it fhall affli6l our eyes and ears no more ! 
 Recent events have fubjoined a dire comment to 
 thefe hafty announcements. The Polytheifm of 
 India, with its lurid ferocities and its filth, juft 
 becaufe it has never allied itfelf with any concep- 
 tions of beauty or of order — as did that of Greece — 
 and juft becaufe it takes no fpring from any axioms 
 of reafon, has confixed itfelf upon the Hindoo foul 
 — has grown into it — has gone down in its impurity, 
 and in its cruelty, and in its abfurdity : as a girdle 
 of brafs it encircles the moral and rational faculties, 
 and forbids even fo much expanfive movement as 
 might ilTue in a releafe from its hold. 
 
 Confronted with this inveterate polytheifm, 
 which could not be firmer in its grafp than it is, 
 if indeed it were as old as its own chronology de- 
 clares it to be — confronted with this Hindooifm 
 there are, as reprefentative of Britifh Chriftianity 
 in India, inftead of a pofitive and coherent belief, 
 two irreconcileable, and, in facf, hoftile opinions, 
 profefTed by thofe with whom the people of India 
 come into contact ; for on the one fide there is that 
 mode of feeling- in matters of relio-ion which has 
 always been chara61:eriftic of the governing clafs 
 there, the men in authority, and the young men ef- 
 pecially, who, as adminiftrators of the foreign rule, 
 are fpread over the country, and to whom, di- 
 re6lly and indirectly, revenue is paid. On the 
 other hand, the Hindoo mind, here and there at 
 leaft, converfes with thofe whofe genuine and 
 
THEODOSIUS. 207 
 
 fervent Chriftian feeling; has brouo^ht them to 
 India. Thus it is that, on the one fide, the Eu- 
 ropean, the Enghfh influence, is fuch as is felt to 
 be fubftantially atheiftic : on the other fide, the 
 fame exterior European and Englifh civilization 
 fpeaks to the Hindoo mind in tones animated by a 
 profound belief of whatever is emphatically Chrif- 
 tian. The mere knowledge and confcioufnefs of 
 fo vehement an antagonifm having place among 
 thofe who have come to rule and to teach them, 
 would deeply afFe6t the minds of races even lefs 
 fhrewd and intelligent than are the people of 
 India. 
 
 It is not — and we need to be continually cau- 
 tioned againft fo great an error as to fuppofe it — 
 it is not as if all men individually who take their 
 ftand on the one fide of the above-mentioned an- 
 tagonifm were utterly irreligious, or were purely 
 felfifh, and rapacious, and regardlefs of all things 
 but the amafTing of fortunes. It is not fo ; for 
 many of this very clafs are men of benevolence, 
 and are honeftly defirous (fo long as Indian revenue 
 is fafe) of governing India for the good of the 
 people. Nor is it as if all men, individually, who 
 take pofition on the other fide were fimple-hearted, 
 and felf-denying, and ready for martyrdom : this 
 is not fo. 
 
 But whereas, at home, principles of all kinds, 
 fpeculative and practical, are intermingled in every 
 imaginable manner — in the promifcuous utterances 
 
2o8 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 of focial intercourfe, in public difcuffions, and in 
 the literary commerce of a free people, and are 
 thus foftened down, and are mitigated, and are 
 flripped of their fliarpeft charaderidics ; in India, 
 on the contrary, each of thefe forms of opinion 
 retires from contact with its antagonift, and it re- 
 ceives an exaggerated expreffion of its meaning, 
 and it comes to be uttered with a fort of emphatic 
 and polemic vehemence. The tv/o beliefs, or the 
 belief and the non-belief, are feverally announced 
 in the prefence of a heathenifm, fuch as is that of 
 the Hindoo races, and of a fanaticifm fuch as is 
 that ofthe growling Mahometan population. Thus 
 uttered, it gathers force in the utterance. 
 
 It is the natural and inevitable courfe of things 
 that the daily fights and founds of worfhips fo foul 
 and fo fanguinary as are thofe of India, fliould 
 aggravate, fhould irritate the feelings of Chriftian 
 men and (let us not forget it) of Chriftian women, 
 refident in India. And while this procefs is going 
 on, the very fame fights and founds take effe6l 
 upon the irreligion of the irreligious — imparting 
 to it a murky levity, a contemptuous virulence, of 
 which all modes of feeling that relate man to a 
 world unfeen are alike the objeds. Mingled reafons 
 of a miflaken policy, and of irreligious indifference, 
 have brought high-minded Englifhmen in India to 
 fubmit to the humiliation of touching the hat to 
 the Devil ; and in doing fo (as is the cafe in every 
 inftance of a wrong conceifion to what is evil) 
 
THEODOSIUS. 209 
 
 they have brought upon themfelves far more of 
 native contempt, than has been compenfated by 
 any gratitude they have thus earned from the 
 befotted worfhippers. 
 
 Men in authority in India who, in difcharge of 
 their fundions, are forced into contact with Pagan 
 ufages — ufages infufferably abominable, are not 
 unlikely to reafon with themfelves in fome fuch 
 manner as this — " Placed where I am, and cogni- 
 zant of this filth — this folly, and this murder, there 
 is no alternative for me but this — I muft either 
 give utterance to my abhorrence and contempt, and 
 then aft accordingly ; — or I muft fo deport myfelf 
 as if I were fupremely indifferent to everything — 
 to everything but revenue, and the making a for- 
 tune for myfelf If I profefTed to care for juftice 
 and mercy, or if I announced my belief in a 
 righteous Almighty and a future judgment, I 
 fhould render myfelf amenable, in the view of the 
 people, to principles of reafon, truth, and hu- 
 manity. My part, therefore, is that of a fupercilious 
 indifference ; at leaft it is fo until the day comes 
 when I {hall be able to fpeak and a6t fpontane- 
 oufly — to fpeak and aft as a Chriftian and as an 
 Engliftiman." 
 
 Thofe who, rejefting this fort of indifference, 
 might undertake to juftify a more coerfive courfe 
 of condufton the part of a Chriftian government, 
 toward the Hindoo people and their religious 
 ufages, may think that they ihall find a warrant for 
 p 
 
210 ESSAYS, ETC, 
 
 it in the edicts and the demeanour of Conftantine 
 and his fucceflbrs, as related to the expiring poly- 
 theifm of their times ; but the two cafes are, as we 
 have already faid, eflentially unlike. And as to Con- 
 ftantine himfelf, and the apparent inconfiftency of 
 his a6ls, his ambiguous perfonal conviftions, at leaft 
 during the ten years immediately fucceeding the 
 public profeffion of his converfion, muft be taken 
 into the account, if we are looking for an explana- 
 tion of his conduct in continuing, as he did, to dif- 
 penfe the cuftomary gratuities among the minifters 
 of worftiips, which were ftill adhered to by large 
 mafles of the Roman people — by many (or moft) 
 of the wealthy and noble, and profeiTedly alfo, by 
 the leaders of the philofophical feils. Sacrifices on 
 ftate occafions were ftill offered, and prayers were 
 enjoined to be made to " them that have ears, but 
 hear not." Coins were ftruck, which in device 
 and in legend were polytheiftic. In the phrafe- 
 ology of public documents ancient forms were re- 
 tained ; for fo it is in all parallel inftances — reform 
 waits long, and knocks many times at the door of 
 government offices. The imperial converfion, if 
 it amazed the Roman world for a moment, as a 
 thunder-clap, did not blaze out upon it unclouded, 
 as day does in the tropics, but crept up upon the 
 fky as does the fummer morning in the mifty and 
 fliowery north. 
 
 In the courfe of a hundred and fifty years, 
 reckoned on from the edidl of Milan, the ancient 
 
THEODOSIUS. 211 
 
 worfhips were in conftant courfe of fading away : — 
 they flunk out of fight ; — every year they were be- 
 coming lefs and lefs the fubje6ts of ferious con- 
 troverfy. Thus there are meteoric conditions of 
 the atmofphere, during which detached clouds are 
 feen to be melting into nothing ; and if you watch 
 the borders of the heavieft mafles, they are (hoot- 
 ing forth limbs, which difappear while you look at 
 them : — all vapours are in a ftate of rapid abforp- 
 tion, until at length the clear blue prevails on all 
 hands. So it was that the imperial edicSls, through- 
 out the years of the fourth century, had been anti- 
 cipated, in almoft each inftance, by changes that 
 had taken place in public opinion : and thefe 
 changes — thefe reformations, in fa6): — were fo 
 many advances toward a higher moral condition 
 of the Roman world, a progrefs which muft have 
 given another afpeit to European hiftory, if it had 
 not, fo foon, been arrefted. 
 
 Chriftianity knows nothing of imperial edi61:s, 
 or of a(3:s of Parliament ; but whenever the edicts 
 of a government are of a beneficial kind, and when 
 alfo they are hopeful, becaufe well-timed, it is 
 when and where the moral forces of the Gofpel 
 have already taken efFe6l throughout the focial 
 mafs, and have done fo to fuch an extent as that 
 reformatory laws have been called for, and are 
 welcomed — perhaps they may have been impa- 
 tiently demanded by the popular feeling. Each of 
 the more flagrant charaderiftics of the Greek and 
 
212 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 Roman polytheifm — each of thofe vicious inftitu- 
 tions, and of thofe pernicious ufages which a mo- 
 dern Chriftianized community would refent and 
 repel with abhorrence, had come to be regarded 
 as infufFerable — as abominable, long before the 
 moment of its prohibition by the ftate. If the in- 
 trinfic moral forces of the Gofpel had not, at fo 
 early a time, been firft abated by the prevalence of 
 the afcetic do6lrine, and then turned afide by the 
 revival of the ancient polytheifm, under the guife 
 of the fhrine-worfhip, the incurfions of the Gothic 
 hordes would not have prevailed, as they did, to 
 overthrow the civilization of fouthern Europe. 
 
 Well would it repay the labour it might coft, to 
 follow, and to exhibit the progrefs of the Chriftian 
 energy — regarded fimply as a proteft againft the 
 eftablifhed injuftices and the ritual impurities, the 
 cruelties and the filthinefs of Greek and Roman 
 heathenifm ! How animated, how firm, how irre- 
 fiftible, was this proteft, as we catch the echoes of 
 it, in liftening to the early Chriftian apologifts ! 
 Truly thefe witnelTes for the new faith fpake as 
 the prophets of the Higheft when, in its defence, 
 and in afking for juftice — they reafoned with the 
 men of their times — with philofophifts and poten- 
 tates, concerning " righteoufnefs, and temperance, 
 and the judgment to come." The fophifts were 
 foon filenced, and profligate magnates quailed, and 
 were glad to fcreen themfelves behind their mate- 
 rial powers, whenever this fcorch of eternal reafon 
 
THEODOSIUS. 213 
 
 was fent in upon their confcience ; they " trem- 
 bled " for an hour only, but their fuccefTors in the 
 next age, gave way, and acknowledged, in the 
 Chriftian teacher, the authentic fervant of God. 
 
 Thus was it until the time when the Chriftian 
 advocate betrays his confcioufnefs that he and his 
 colleagues, in carrying forward their controverfy 
 with the patrons of the ancient fuperftitions, had 
 abandoned their vantage ground, and had them- 
 felves come to take a pofition near to that of the 
 apologift of the gods, and where they had much to 
 do to defend what was fo utterly indefenfible. 
 Clear, bold, and confiftent in principle, were the 
 early apologifts, fuch as Juftin Martyr, Athena- 
 goras, MInucius Felix, Origen, Tertullian, Arno- 
 bius, in their maintenance of their own part, and 
 in their affault upon the abfurd demon-worfhips of 
 the Gentiles, and upon its immoralities : — all thus 
 far was right, and well thefe champions knew that 
 there was no room for gainfaying — there was no 
 flaw in their plea. But not fo Was it with their 
 fuccefTors, the Chriftian apologifts of the following 
 century. Ambrofe, Bafil, Chryfoftom, the Gre- 
 gories, and, alas ! Auguftine, had waded knee-deep 
 into the mire of fuperftition, and they were not 
 unconfcious of the moral humiliation to which 
 they had yielded themfelves. How poorly, for 
 inftance, does Auguftine maintain his ftanding 
 when aflailed by a Pagan fchoolmafter of his dio- 
 cefe ; to what pitiful ftiifts does he refort ! or, to 
 
214 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 follow the courfe of things another century fur- 
 ther, we may look into the orations of John Da- 
 mafcenus — ttsc) raig ayiaig ziKovaig — and then read, 
 if we have patience, the decrees of the fecond 
 Council of Nice ! It was not a Chriftianity fo 
 diluted as was that of the fixth and feventh cen- 
 turies, that could keep alive the moral energies 
 of the mafs of the people, and therefore all were 
 foon to be trampled on by Goths, Vandals, Sara- 
 cens. 
 
 We have juft now faid that the ads of the 
 Roman emperors, in aiming at the fuppreffion of 
 Paganifm, will not furnifh precedents for the guid- 
 ance of a Chriftian government, at this time, in 
 dealing with the polytheifm of the conquered races 
 of India. The inftances are not, in any fenfe, 
 parallel ; the nations, the ancient and the modern, 
 are in wholly different conditions, moral and intel- 
 lectual ; and the relation of the government to- 
 ward the people is effentially different. Never- 
 thelefs human nature is ever the fame, and therefore 
 there is a leffon to be gathered from each chapter 
 of the hiftory of the human family. The propen- 
 fion of the human mind toward a religion of many 
 divinities, male and female, is one of the moft 
 conftant of its tendencies ; and the inftances in 
 which, for any length of time, a higher direClion 
 has been given to the religious inftincSt, and a pure 
 theology has been refolutely maintained, are rare 
 indeed. We maybe quite fure that this tendency will 
 
THEODOSIUS. 215 
 
 ever and again fhow itfelf. A peopfe, fully taught 
 in the firft and greateft of all truths, holds to its 
 profeflion of it, fhall we fay, through three genera- 
 tions, or through five ? The Jewifh people, 
 from the time of their return to their land, have, 
 in this one fenfe, been found faithful to their vo- 
 cation ; but it has been under conditions fo excep- 
 tional as to remove the inftance from its place as 
 pertinent in any argument. The Chriftianized 
 nations of fouthern Europe had relapfed, very ge- 
 nerally, into polytheifm before five generations 
 had pafTed away. At this moment the populace 
 throughout the fame areas, Eaft and Weft, are 
 hopelellly addided to practices which differ in 
 name only, and in coftume, from the paganifm 
 of their remoteft anceftors. 
 
 How, then, fhall it be in India ? In India, as 
 to the relation of the people to the government, 
 everything is, and muft long be, if not for ever — 
 anomalous — out of harmony with all theory — ex- 
 ceptional, as to the entire courfe of ordinary hiftory. 
 Governed from a remote centre, by a race utterly 
 alien and abhorrent to its own, conquered and 
 held in fubjeclion by nothing but fteel, or if by 
 aught elfe, by films of moral influence ; governed, 
 if not with an exclufive, yet with a conftant and 
 fovereign regard to the annual fifcal refult — 
 India muft, under conditions fo ftrange (always 
 fuppofing the continuance of the Britifti fu- 
 premacy) and more and more fo, it muft ftand as 
 
2i6 ESS ATS, ETC, 
 
 a PARADOX, in the large volume of human expe- 
 riences. 
 
 Who, then, fhall venture to predict the future 
 of India when this paradox is to w^ork out its folu- 
 tion upon a field whereupon is afTembled a fifth, 
 or a feventh part, of the human family ? But if 
 the India of ten years hence defies all fagacity to 
 forefee it, neverthelefs, if we choofe to afiTume the 
 permanence of the Britifh fupremacy there, then 
 — and this contingence being the datum of our con- 
 je6lural hypothefis — then there are fome refults of 
 the reaction of India upon England which may be 
 forefeen with a degree of certainty. No one will 
 fay that ten years hence the Ganges and the Indus 
 fhall float red uniforms from their mouths to their 
 fources, but if we grant this fact, then we may 
 predidl for England itfelf a mighty refult, deeply 
 afFe6ling whatever, among ourfelves, is of the 
 highefl: importance. 
 
 It does not come within the province of the 
 writer of this Eflay to fpeak of " exports and im- 
 ports," and " revenue," or the like ; but he may 
 fpeak of thofe revolutions in the world of thought 
 and action which outweigh revenue, and which 
 are of more enduring confequence than the main- 
 tenance of empires. 
 
 Rea£tion, in any cafe, will, as to its intenfity 
 and its extent, be directly as the fpeed and the fre- 
 quency of the intercourfe between countries, or 
 nations. In all times, known to hiftory, the Eaftern 
 
THEODOSIUS. 217 
 
 world and the Weftern, have interchanged influ- 
 ences — the Weft ading upon the Eaft, the Eaft 
 reacting upon the Weft. In each of thefe inftances 
 while the obvious, and the noify, and the tangible 
 part of this intercourfe has been that of the Weft 
 upon the Eaft — fuch, to wit, as the conquefts of 
 Alexander, the Crufades, the Portuguefe, the 
 French, the Britifti fettlements and conquefts — 
 the deep, the filent, the enduring part of the fame 
 intercourfe has been the reaction of the Eaft upon 
 the political conftitutions, upon the focial equili- 
 briums, of the nations of Europe, and upon their 
 arts and commerce, upon their philofophy,and their 
 habits of thought. So it is likely to be in the in- 
 ftance before us. England afts upon India ; and 
 the nations, its European competitors, admire, and 
 wonder, and grudge, at the fpecSlacle of fuch va- 
 lour, and of fuch energy, and of fuch fuccefs ! But 
 meantime, as always it has been heretofore, during 
 the lapfe of five and twenty centuries — India is 
 reacting upon the dominant race; it is doing fo 
 filently, irrefiftibly, and with a deep-going force, 
 a force of that kind which, while it befpeaks the 
 prefence of the Almighty, puts contempt upon the 
 interference of man. 
 
 It may be well, for a moment, to bring into 
 view the inftantaneoufnefs and the vital activity 
 of that intercourfe which, at this moment, is linking 
 England with India — that umbelical cord through 
 which the circulation, to and fro, is going on. Re- 
 
2i8 ESS ATS, ETC, 
 
 cent events have thrown India in upon hundreds 
 of Enghfh homes with a force and a meaning the 
 intenfity of which will not foon be fpent. India, 
 its fites and its fcenes, its coftumes and manners, 
 its material fplendours, and its real horrors, have 
 become terribly familiar to the imagination of be- 
 reaved parents and fiflers in all focial circles. So 
 much nearer to us is India, in thought and fym- 
 pathy ! And the fame courfe of events, adding, as 
 it does, a new ftimulus to the mechanical marvels 
 of locomotion, is fhortening, continually, the inter- 
 vals of correfpondence, fo that, inftead of months, 
 we are getting to compute the diftance by weeks — 
 lately — now by days ; — and ere long it will be by 
 hours, perhaps by minutes ! There is Calcutta 
 news ! how recent is it ? I2 at noon, Greenwich 
 time, and this is 12.30. 
 
 Our fympathies and moral emotions, not often 
 unreafonable, are unreafoning moft often. Why 
 fhould they be liable to fo much abatement from 
 incidental differences of fpace and time ? We 
 cannot well fay how or why it is fo, but yet it is : 
 a calamity, a horror, an injuftice — when and where 
 has it befallen the fufferers ? — and are thefe fufferers 
 our deareft relatives ? — was it on the other fide 
 of the globe ? — was it a year ago ? Nay, it was in 
 the next ftreet, and it was yefternight ! Nearnefs in 
 time and place is the condition of intenfe emotion ; 
 and thus it is that the railway and the ele6fric 
 wire are now becoming the nerves of fenfation 
 
THEODOSIUS, 219 
 
 and the nerves of volition throughout the world. 
 It is time, then, that the doers of wrong, and the 
 perpetrators of cruelties, fhould look to themfelves, 
 for, remote as may be the corners where their 
 crimes are done, what they are about will perhaps 
 be known and publilhed in every capital of the 
 civilized world before the fun is hot of the next 
 day! 
 
 It is, then, with this fort of inftantaneoufnefs 
 that the things of India, henceforward, fhall reaft 
 upon England ; and it is at this fame fpeed that the 
 public opinion of England fhall make itfelf known, 
 the next hour, in India. What, then, muft enfue ? 
 Juft this, that India, whether converted to Chrif- 
 tianity, or not converted, and whether governed by 
 Chriftian men or by fecularifts, fhall feel that it 
 mufl amend its ufages, and that it muft learn to be 
 afhamed of what it has been during thefe four thou- 
 fand years or more. 
 
 The Pagan ufages of India, beginning with thofe 
 that are of the deepefl atrocity, and going on to 
 thofe which, in lefs degrees, are ofFenfive to the 
 Englifh eye and ear, muft now give way — not as 
 did thofe of the Greek and Roman polytheifm, 
 which flowly yielded to a vital movement from 
 within the fame focial body, but by an exterior force, 
 and becaufe of their infufFerable proximity to a 
 higher civilization — that of Europe — that of Eng- 
 land. The nearnefs of India to England, by fteam 
 navigation, by rail, and by the eledtric wire, and 
 
220 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 by the increafing frequency of intercourfe, and 
 by the inceflant coming and going, and by the 
 lengthy correfpondence which is now permeating 
 all domeflic circles, thefe things have the efFe6l of 
 bringing the Hindoo abominations clofe under our 
 drawing-room windows, as nuifances that are not 
 to be endured : there will be an outcry to fweep 
 them away. 
 
 Not the moft determined of our non-inter- 
 ference ftatefmen would now find it poiTible to 
 arreft this reformatory procefs ; much lefs could he 
 dare to licenfe anew the religious murders, and 
 the burnings, and the tortures which already have 
 been interdidled. As things now are, to revive 
 fuch doings would fet our Englifh homes on fire, 
 would hurl public men from their pofition, would 
 raife tornadoes in Exeter Hall, and in every pro- 
 vincial hall, from end to end of the country. " Our 
 Indian fellow-fubjecls" muft learn to be as pious 
 as they pleafe, fhort of murder. 
 
 What is it, then, that will be taking place in 
 the courfe of this arbitrary and externally-wrought 
 reformation ? It is well to confider fuch a quef- 
 tion. Hov/ bright an anticipation would it be if 
 we might believe that, in thus removing the fuper- 
 ficial hideoufnefs of the demon-worftiips of India, 
 we fhall be penetrating the fubftance, and that we 
 fhall thus diflodge the demon ! No fuch hope as 
 this is warranted by the hiftory of thofe nations that 
 have been habituated to polytheifm through long 
 
THEODOSIUS, 221 
 
 ages. So happy an event may indeed come about, 
 who fhall deny it ; but another courfe of things is 
 far more probable. As to the few — thofe of the na- 
 tives who are the afpirants to EngHfh culture, and 
 to whom, in colleges, we are opening wide the por- 
 tals of fcientific atheifm — the cafe of fuch demands 
 a feparate confideration ; but as to the mafles of the 
 Hindoo population, they are undergoing a foften- 
 ing, a breaking up of the horrific cruft of their 
 ancient fuperftitions. The Hindoo children of 
 this prefent time, from the mere privation of in- 
 human fpe(Slacles, and from the non-occurrence 
 in their highways of exhibitions the fight of 
 which is moral perdition, thefe are in a courfe of 
 paffive training for — what ? is it for Chriftianity ? 
 May it pleafe God to bring about fuch an end ! 
 But we fliould prepare ourfelves to expe6l a far 
 lefs welcome confequence ; — and this, which is 
 the more probable event, and which is likely to 
 fhow itfelf in a few years, or when the youth of 
 India reaches early manhood, is — the wide and 
 rapid fubftitution of a mild and bloodlefs polythe- 
 ifm, in the place of that of which the people of India 
 will have become aftiamed — taught, as we are 
 teaching them, to look at their ancient atrocities 
 with European eyes. 
 
 The people of India, weaned from fuch things, 
 will be looking around in queft of gods and god- 
 defiTes — kind intercefix)rs, who (hall look down 
 upon them from pedeftals in their ftreets, and fhall 
 
222 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 fmile, and fhow, in their attitude, and in their 
 tranquil vifages, that which loft human nature 
 fo earneftly yearns for — propitious fupernatural 
 power, quite near at hand, and offered to the eye 
 and touch. 
 
 Who is it, then, that fhall now come forward at 
 this filent invitation ? Who is it that fhall bring be- 
 fore the late worfhippers of Brahma, Vifhnu, and 
 Siva, a fmiling Mother with infant in arms, both of 
 them nimbus-crowned, and proclaimed in all tho- 
 roughfares as '* Queen of Heaven, Qiieen of angels, 
 and the Fountain of Grace to every fuppliant ?" 
 Nor would this divinity hold her celeftial court 
 unattended, for thoufands of gracious and open- 
 handed mediators are ranged around her, to right 
 and left, and each has his or her peculiarity of aid 
 or favour to beftow. Thy ancient gods, O India, 
 were beings of favage mood, they were ftubborn in 
 temper and vindi6tive, and hard to be placated ; 
 but thefe are propitious ; they are all loving and in- 
 dulgent ; nor are they ftri61: as toward human frail- 
 ties, yet are they themfelves pure as the azure fky, 
 and free from every taint of earth : kneel to thefe ! 
 — addrefs your fupplications to thefe ! 
 
 It was a tranfmutation very nearly refembling 
 this, and yet apparently lefs probable, under the 
 circumftances, which, taking place as it did during 
 the lapfe of the fourth and three following cen- 
 turies, gave to the fouthcrn European nations the 
 polytheifm which ftill holds bound all of them 
 
THEODOSIUS. 223 
 
 whofe foil had been thoroughly faturated with the 
 ancient worfhips — with the Greek and the Roman 
 polytheifm. Proteftantifm has expelled the Roman 
 Catholic polytheifm from thofe countries only in 
 which the claflic polytheifm had obtained not more 
 than a brief term of occupation. 
 
 But as to India, its foil is rank and rich in pre- 
 paration for fuftaining a bright-coloured and gor- 
 geous worfhip, fuch as is that which undoubtedly 
 will now be offered to the acceptance of its mil- 
 lions. 
 
 How difficult is it to fpeak and write, and to 
 read too, otherwife than polemically upon fubje6ts 
 which are ftill warmly controverted among our- 
 felves ! But now in thefe pages the writer and 
 the reader are fuppofed to be ftanding afide from 
 the noify world, and to be quit of their prejudices. 
 Be it fo underftood, and moreover, let us afTume 
 that, while intending no offence to our neighbour, 
 we mufl hold faft our perfonal convi6i:ions, and 
 efpecially that we dare not, at the prompting of a 
 fa6titious courtefy, or of a falfe-hearted liberalifm, 
 defpife the requirements, either of common fenfe, 
 or of religious confiflency. 
 
 Now then for our point. Take the inflance of 
 a devout and well-inflruded member of the Roman 
 Catholic Church. We fay an inftru(5ted member, 
 and not only fo, but one who is furrounded alfo 
 with the Bible atmofphere and the Bible light of 
 a free Proteftant country. To fuch a one, and 
 
224 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 efpecially if he or Ihe takes the difcreet and the 
 pious Alban Butler as his (or her) guide, it may be 
 practicable, we dare not fay it will be eafy, to un- 
 derftand, and always to obferve, the diftin6lion 
 which excufes him from the imputation of idolatry, 
 or of polytheifm, while he catches hold of the 
 alleged difference between — reverential regard, the 
 hyper-reverential regard, and the proper religious 
 worfhip, which laft alone is to be offered to the 
 Supreme Being. We grant you all the benefit 
 you can any way derive from thefe nice diftinc- 
 tions : hold tight to the difference, if there be any, 
 the next time when you bow the knee in front 
 of an image, or a pi6lure, and, looking upward, 
 you utter your petition. You tell us that you 
 " honour God in His faints," and that your par- 
 ticular and favourite faint hears your prayer " in 
 God," and fo forth. We purfue you not on this 
 perilous ground, for in treading this lava-cruft we 
 could not keep the eye from peering in between 
 the crevices where we fliould fee the fiery crim- 
 fon flood, that awful deluge which, long ago 
 vomited up from the nether world, has, through 
 thoufands of years, fpread itfelf over the nations, to 
 their ruin. 
 
 Let common fenfe give way as far as is poffible 
 to charity, and then utter itfelf aloud without re- 
 ferve. Have we ever ftood as the lookers-on in 
 thofe countries where the Roman Catholic worfhip 
 has always been the religion of the maffes of the 
 
THEODOSIUS. 225 
 
 people, where It has been hable to no rebuke, to 
 no reprehenfion, and where the people, the higher 
 and the lower, have never been challenged to be- 
 think themfelves of their religious ufages ? Stretch 
 a charitable hypothecs to its extreme limit, and 
 then afk — as to the proftrate crowd of worfhip- 
 pers, encircling the image of a favourite faint, and 
 addreffing to it their fervent entreaties for grace 
 and fuccour — afk what now becomes of the dif- 
 tincSlion between the dulia, and the hyper-dulia, 
 and the latria ? To thefe befotted devotees it is, 
 as if it were not ; nor does the religion of the mafs 
 of the people otherwife differ from that of their 
 remoteft anceftors — than fo far as is implied in the 
 chara6i:eriftics that are attributed to their divinities 
 feverally. If common fenfe be liftened to, and if a 
 fearlefs regard be had to confpicuous facets, then 
 we muil aflent to this conclufion — that though the 
 names are not the fame, and though rites have 
 undergone a change, the idol-worfhip and the poly- 
 theifm are, in every other fenfe, the fame. 
 
 That fubftitution of a mild polytheifm for a 
 polytheifm that is fierce, vindictive, impure, and 
 horrific, is the revolution which the courfe of 
 events may fpeedily bring about in India. It (hall 
 ftartle many among us by the fuddennefs of its 
 commencement, by the rapidity of its progrefs, 
 and by the univerfality of its triumphs. 
 
 Are we intending — or fhould we be able, if in- 
 tending it — to bolt the door againft the now-coming 
 
226 ESS ATS y ETC. 
 
 St. Francis Xavier, and his train of devoted mi- 
 nifters ? We dare not attempt this. Spite of us he 
 will fet his foot upon the India v/hich we have juft 
 now conquered for him. He will bear aloft the 
 moft attra6live fymbols ; — he will be copious and 
 eloquent in his commendations of the " Queen of 
 Heaven ! — Mother of Mercy ! Does fhe not clafp 
 the infant Saviour of the world in her graceful 
 arms, and fhall not the Mother prevail with the 
 Son ? And we who now bring to you the glad 
 tidings of a new difpenfation, we are not of the 
 hated Saxon race that has conquered India ; we 
 are not of the fame blood as your oppreflbrs : we 
 abhor their deeds of violence, we denounce their 
 impieties ; it is we who are to you the meiTengers 
 of mercy, and of nothing elfe." 
 
 What is now to be done to ftay a Chriftianizing 
 of India in this manner by the minifters of Rome ? 
 Shall the Englifh Church take it patiently, and 
 ftand afide ? Not if Englifhmen are what hitherto 
 they have been. But is there not a middle courfe 
 open before us, which it would be wife to follow ? 
 " May we not forfend the fuccefles of our rivals by 
 adopting their principles and ufmg their means of 
 influence, by taking in hand their tools, by putting 
 in pradice their maxims for gaining the multitude ? 
 May we not denounce Rome aloud, and yet learn 
 of her in fecret ? We may draw off from her when- 
 ever we encounter her on the highway, but yet may 
 call her in to teach us her craft in the clofet. Let 
 
THEODOSIUS. 
 
 227 
 
 but the Epifcopal Church of England retrace the 
 miftaken fteps fhe has taken thefe three centuries 
 paft, and then, as thus reformed by retrogreffion, 
 fhe will renew her ftrength, and find it an eafy tafk 
 to Chriftianize India, even as St. Auftin, advlfed 
 by Pope Gregory, Chriftianized England.'* 
 
 This we may be fure of, that, in taking any fuch 
 courfe as this, the Church of England would at 
 once forfeit the fupport and favour of that clafs of 
 public men without whofe fupport thefe very mea- 
 fures muft fail of fuccefs. The philofophic and 
 the indifferent, the "non-interference" ftatefmen, 
 who rule India, if they faw the Hindoo people 
 crowding, by fifty thoufand at a time, around the 
 modern St. Francis Xavier, and receiving baptifm 
 at his hands in uncounted groups, and taking up 
 with a religion which would be fpoken of as " well 
 adapted to their moral and intelle6lual condition," 
 would hail the event with undifTembled fatisfadlion. 
 Thus feeling, they would frown upon the endea- 
 vour to fplit the difference, or to tamper with fo 
 defirable a procefs. Shall it be that, " for the fake 
 of we know not what nice diflin6lions, be they 
 metaphyfical, or theological, or ecclefiaftical — we 
 care not what they are — you are wifliing to arreft 
 the courfe of a reform which will be brought about 
 by your rivals in a far better manner, and more 
 fpeedily, than it can be by yourfelves -, in a word, 
 you need not doubt that we fhall lend ourfelves to 
 their endeavours, and not to yours" Thus, con- 
 
228 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 fiftently with their indilFerence towards religions 
 of all kinds, will a certain clafs of ftatefmen reafon. 
 
 It muft be as animated by another principle, 
 and moved on by another zeal, and infpired by 
 another hope, and governed by another rule, that 
 the Church of England (and other communions 
 with her) fhall henceforward perform their deftined 
 part in India. The collifion and the conflict be- 
 tween Romanifm and the Church of England in 
 India, which can fcarcely fail to follow in the 
 track of recent events, will throw each anew upon 
 that which is its charaderiftic principle. The 
 rea6lion of this new movement in India, upon 
 Romanifm at its centre, and upon our Proteftant 
 communions in England, may give an unexpected 
 afpeft to the Chriftianity of Europe, and may di- 
 vorce anew the nations. 
 
 Once and again, in modern times, the propaga- 
 tion enterprifes of the Romifh Church have drawn 
 its minifters onward toward the moft dangerous 
 extremes of compromife with Pagan ufages. The 
 authorities at Rome have been fcandalized and 
 alarmed, and have been compelled to difown thefe 
 ambiguous doings. But at prefent the temptation 
 to follow in the fame track^ in India, will be far 
 greater than ever it has been, and will be yielded 
 to. The Romifh Church has a rich and vaft 
 region in view, over which it may now fpread its 
 eafy triumphs ; and it may do this under the very 
 eye, and by the aid of its rival and enemy : it may 
 
THEODOSIUS. 229 
 
 fpread Itfelf from fide to fide of the Peninfula, none 
 daring to make it afraid. The government pledges 
 itfelf for its prote6lion, as a matter of principle, and 
 as a rule of policy too. Who, then, fliall ftay its 
 courfe ? 
 
 This courfe, if purfued in bringing about the 
 converfion of the nations of Hinduflan, muft be 
 regarded, not merely as a dangerous and unwar- 
 rantable conceffion to polytheiftic notions and 
 pra6lices, but it will be found to demand a deeper 
 and an always deepening falfenefs, and fpurioufnefs, 
 and hoUownefs of pretenfion, and, in a word, a 
 univerfal untruthfulness, as between the minif- 
 ters of religion and the maffes of the people. But 
 untruth fulnefs toward man brings with it a fearing 
 of the confcience, and then follows the darkeft 
 and the moft ominous of all crimes — the living a 
 lie in the confronted prefence of Almighty God. 
 
 In tracing up feparately, to its obfcure origin, 
 in remote times, each of the chara(£leriftic dogmas 
 and practices of the Romifti Church (and the fame 
 nearly is true of the Eaftern Church) no ftretch 
 of charity will fuffice to ward off the feemingly 
 harfli conclufion that fomeyr^W, pra6i:ifed by the 
 minifters of religion upon the people, and intended, 
 perhaps, for their benefit — was its germ. And 
 thus, as we follow the natural development of 
 errors down the turbid ftream of time, the fame 
 impreffion becomes ftronger and more diftin6t at 
 every {idigQ— fpurioufnefs^ fabrication^ falfenefs^ as 
 
230 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 between the minifters of religion and the people ; 
 this is the continuous and the growing charac- 
 teriftic of each ftage of the procefs, which at length 
 matures a fmall fiction into the giant dimenfions of 
 an enormous lie. How can the moft candid and 
 philofophically-tranquil reader of the original docu- 
 ments of Romifh Church hiftory defend himfelf 
 from this conciufion — that untruthfulness to- 
 ward the people, and an impious contsmpt of the 
 awful majefty of God, have ever been the law and 
 the reafon of Romanifm. 
 
 There can be no need to put to Chriftian men, 
 or to Englifhmen, the queftion — By what means, 
 or on what principle, fhould Romifh fuperftitions 
 be met on the plains of India, or in China ? Do 
 we not fear God ? Do we not abhor lying, and 
 fcorn fabrications ? Do we not hold in utter con- 
 tempt the quirks and the tricks of the furpliced 
 charlatan ? Yes, and we are prepared to take 
 patiently the defeat of our endeavours to fpread 
 the Gofpel in the Eaft, rather than exult in eafy 
 triumphs which we might achieve by impious fal- 
 fities — by pompous and gorgeous quackeries, or 
 by a prurient practicing with a fenfual race, in 
 the dark. But if, indeed, there be any among us 
 who are otherwife minded than thus, then an appeal 
 might well be made to them on the fuppofition 
 that there is an honeft ounce of Anglo-Saxon blood 
 yet curdling about their hearts. To fuch we fay — 
 Be honeft at leaft thus far. Enlift yourfelves at 
 
THEODOSIUS, 231 
 
 once as minifters of the Pantheon ; there you will 
 ftand in no falfe pofition, and all the fervices re- 
 quired of you fhall be to your mind : nothing will 
 there be done by halves, and there, if confcience 
 does not upbraid you, no other upbraidings fhall 
 trouble your future courfe. 
 
 The work that has henceforward to be done by 
 honeft and Chriftian-hearted men in India, and in 
 China, is of a new order, and it is incomparably 
 more arduous than hitherto (or at all in modern 
 times) Chriftian minifters have been called to en- 
 gage in. It is a work for which no fufficient pre- 
 paration has been made, either within the enclo- 
 fures of the Englifti Epifcopal Church, or among 
 the communions around it. But it has this one 
 aufpicious prognoftic : — the work is fuch that it 
 will create the men who are to do it, and the 
 work, once engaged in, will train them for their 
 duty. 
 
 But if it were afked, what is there in the prefent 
 pofition, or in the afpe6l of affairs in India, or in 
 China, which differs much from the now well- 
 underftood conditions of the miffionary enterprife, 
 all the world over ? the reply might be of this fort : 
 — The Chriftianity of England will henceforward 
 have to maintain itfelf, and to make progrefs, as it 
 ftands related firft — to the ancient paganifm — fe- 
 condly, to the Chriftianized paganifm of Rome, 
 thirdly — to European atheifm ; and then — as related 
 to thefe three, in their prefent peculiar condition 
 
232 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 of coalefcence and of tacit compromife, the iflue 
 being a combination of elements that is too inti- 
 mate and too naturaL to be broken up otherwife 
 than by the power and mercy of Heaven, fpecially 
 put forth. But when we fay this, the pra6lical 
 inference is the fame as it would be if, as in rela- 
 tion to purely fecular interefts, everything de- 
 pended upon our fkill, induftry, fagacity, and fore- 
 cafting of the probable courfe of events. The 
 courfe of events throughout the Eaftern world 
 will not fail to be fuch as fhall call up a new clafs 
 of men — in Europe (may we fay it) in Britain — 
 to meet it ; and thus, the readlion of the Eaft upon 
 the Weft will be more remarkable than is the 
 adtion of the Weft upon the Eaft. 
 
ESSAY VI. 
 
 'Julian : Prohibitive Education. 
 
 FOREMOST place in the Greek 
 literature and philofophy of his times 
 would probably have been affigned to 
 Flavius Claudius Julianus, if it had 
 not been his misfortune to become mafter of the 
 Roman world. As one of the ableft, and the beft, 
 and the pureft in intention, and the moft humane, of 
 the Roman emperors, he would, with equal proba- 
 bility, have been accounted, if nature and induftry 
 had not previoufly made him an accomplifhed man 
 of letters, and a devoted intelleftualift. And yet 
 even fo, a fort of " double firft " diftin6tion might 
 have been awarded him by poflerity if, in combining 
 the two orders of merit — that of a philofopher and 
 that of a ruler, he had not committed that one blun- 
 der which the vindi6tive church writers of his time 
 have mifcalled his "apoftacy." As a philofopher 
 only, according to the modes of thinking that were 
 prevalent at Athens while he enjoyed the compa- 
 nionfliip of Gregory Nazianzen, Bafil, and other 
 bright-witted and " faft " young men of that bab- 
 
234 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 bling place, he would never have troubled himfelf 
 with the bootlefs endeavour to reftore the fuper- 
 annuated paganifm of Greece : or, as ftatefman 
 only, and with the Roman world at his feet, and 
 himfelf, at an early time in his courfe, pofleiTed of 
 a well-earned military reputation, Julian would 
 better have underftood his fituation, and would 
 wifely have left the fierce religionifts around him 
 to fettle their differences as they could, and to 
 prevail as they might feverally againfl the waning 
 fuperftitions of the populace. But it was not fo ; 
 for the philofopher, prompted and moved from his 
 equanimity by the refentments, and by the virtuous 
 difgufls of the man, mifadvifed the emperor, and 
 thus it was that, in a fullen heat, he threw ofF his 
 Chriftian profeffion, and proclaimed anew the 
 clailic fables, as if he thought that the imperial 
 lungs might breathe truth and life into the dead 
 mythologies ! 
 
 The meafures he purfued, in his brief courfe, 
 for deprefling and degrading the Chriflian com- 
 munity, and for lifting paganifm from out of the 
 abyfs into which it was faft fmking, were of that 
 order which is likely to recommend itfelf to public 
 men who, having fhone at college, and coming, in 
 early manhood, to mix themfelves with the affairs 
 of an empire, bring with them bits and rendings of 
 their academic whims — their theories, their corol- 
 laries, and their crotchets. It is your academic 
 men, frefh from Athens, even the brightefl and 
 
JULIAN. 235 
 
 the beft of them, that go on blundering and blun- 
 denng, as ftatefmen, until the world is fairly fick 
 of their failures. 
 
 Nobody, fays this philofophic Caefar, fhall have 
 ground of complaint ; henceforward all religions 
 are tolerated throughout the empire. This was 
 fo far well ; but it was not well, nor was it con- 
 fident with a truly-intended toleration, that the 
 Chriftian party fliould be called upon to defray the 
 cofts of reftoring the demolifhed pagan temples, 
 much lefs that they fhould have been compelled 
 to " do the repairs " with their own hands, unlefs, 
 indeed, where '* Catholic mobs " had done the 
 mifchief. In thefe meafures there was an obvious 
 injuftice ; but in other means reforted to by Julian 
 for more covertly achieving his purpofe, namely, 
 the ruin of the Chriftian community, there was as 
 real an injuftice, cloaked under a femblance of fair 
 dealing. You Chriftians, faid he, denounce our 
 claflic authors — our poets, orators, philofophers, as 
 the promulgators of the moft grievous errors \ — to 
 you they are the teachers of falfe opinions concern- 
 ing the gods ; by your own ftiowing, therefore, 
 we do you no wrong, we inflict upon you no da- 
 mage, if we deny you altogether the ufe and perufal 
 of them. You have your own books, you have 
 your trails, homilies, and treatifes, and what not : 
 be content with thefe, let thefe, in future, be your 
 only fchool-books : — in a word, we prohibit the 
 reading of the poets, the orators, and the drama- 
 tifts of Greece, in your colleges. 
 
236 ESSJrS, ETC, 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 THUS we have before us the earlieft, perhaps, 
 of a feries of experiments for reaUzing what 
 might be called Prohibitive Education. This 
 firft experiment failed, in every fenfe ; and it muft 
 have failed, even if its aftute originator had lived 
 and reigned till the end of the century. He did not 
 live lono; enoug-h to be convinced of his miftake in 
 rejecting his brother's advice — to adhere to the 
 religion in which he had been trained. Gallus 
 urged him to liften to the Homeric injuncStion — 
 /Saxx' ourcog — on the higher grounds of abftra6l 
 truth ; but he might well have followed it, as his 
 fafeft ftate policy. There was nothing in the 
 waning paganifm which could be fubftantial enough 
 for fuftaining the mighty movements of the empire 
 after once thofe movements had found their ful- 
 crum in the Chriftian verities. It is thus that men 
 of the pedantic clafs misjudge the relative "ftrength 
 of materials " when they are called up to move 
 forward from univerfities to council chambers. 
 Julian's notions of the clafTic divinities were, 
 perhaps, an undefined and unexamined compound 
 of elements, among which might be difcovered a 
 fomething from Plato, a fomething from Plutarch, 
 a fomething from Lucian, and all attempered as 
 
JULIAN, 237 
 
 Athenasus would have cooked it — fit for the taftes 
 of the evening party. But he did not underftand 
 that, though the fceptre of the Roman vi^orld 
 might, even in that late age, have been again 
 firmly held in the grafp of a confident pagan ftoic 
 — an Antoninus — or a religious theorift, of high 
 perfonal qualities, all things vi^ould be put upon 
 the tremble, vi^hen it v^^as feen that the iheer non- 
 fenfe of the clailic paganifm was to be re-ena6led 
 from the imperial throne. 
 
 We have juft now called it 2c femhlance^ but in 
 truth there is more than a fhow of moderation and 
 reafon in thofe epiftles wherein Julian announces 
 his determination concerning the "Galilaean fe6l:." 
 Much to the advantage of this "apofi:ate" would 
 it be to place thefe letters by the fide of thofe of 
 Innocent III, in which he moves the king and the 
 magnates of France to exterminate the heretics of 
 Languedoc ! or, again, thofe of St. Bernard, ad- 
 drefi^ed, with a fimilar intention, to his pupil Eu- 
 genius III ; or of fome fire-and-halter-breathing 
 tra6ts of much later date, not only Romifii, but 
 Protefl:ant alfo. 
 
 The emperor will permit no violences to be 
 perpetrated ; there fhall be no perfecutions on the 
 fcore of religion ; and the exiled bifhops fhall be 
 recalled. Is it Julian, " the apoftate," or is it our 
 Oliver Cromwell, who fays : — " If men are in 
 error, if they be ignorant and unreafonable, what 
 we fhould do is to teach, but not to punifh them?'* 
 
238 Essjrs, Era 
 
 — Ha\ yap, ol[Mai^ '^i^a.a-KSiv^ aAA' olx'^ «oAa<f£JV XP 
 Toyj ccvoYiTov;. None fhould be liable to fuffer in 
 perfon, goods, or reputation, on any fuch account 
 as his religious perfuafion, nor be compelled to 
 enter a temple. This premifed, then let men be 
 required to a6t confiftently with their own profef- 
 fions. I fhall demand this. If our ftandard au- 
 thors are, as you fay, fo many fources of error in 
 relation to the moft momentous principles, you 
 teachers of Chriftianity ought to have nothing to 
 do with them. Why wifh to employ them in 
 your fchools ? How is it ? Flomer, Hefiod, De- 
 mofthenes, Herodotus, Thucydides, Ifocrates, 
 Lyfias — thefe great men — held the gods in high 
 efteem, as the fources of true knowledge ; is it 
 not, then, intolerable that men, with the fame 
 breath, (hould expound thefe authors, and rail at the 
 gods whom they worfhipped ? This fhall not be : 
 — I will it otherwife. You muft make your choice : 
 abftain from thefe authors altogether j or if you 
 will have them, teach as they taught. There is 
 your Matthew — there is your Luke — expound 
 thefe in your fchools. 
 
 The Chriftian catechift might go on with his 
 Bible clafs ; but it is not required of him that he 
 fhould expound Holy Scripture in any other 
 manner than that in which he, and his predeceflbrs 
 had been ufed to expound them now thefe two 
 hundred years. And in what mode was this ? 
 We have ample means for obtaining a reply to 
 
JULIAN. 239 
 
 this queftion. We have before us famples enough 
 of the biblical exegefis of the fecond century, and 
 of the third, and of the fourth. There is barely a 
 remains of the Chriftian literature of the centuries 
 preceding the time of Julian's edi6t which does 
 not fhow that to allow the Chriftian teacher of 
 thofe times to expound his "Matthew and his 
 Luke " in his own manner — in his accuftomed 
 manner, and then to deny him his Homer, his 
 Hefiod, and the reft, was to take a courfe as nu- 
 gatory and as abfurd, as it was defpotic. 
 
 Julian iftlied his edidt in a petulant mood ; he 
 might have feen that the attempt to unmind the 
 Chriftian world at that time was as impra6ticable 
 as was the endeavour to give life and dignity to 
 the puppet-paganifm of the paft age. A ftill more 
 comprehenfive — or, as we fhould now fay, a more 
 philofophic — apprehenfion of the tendency of 
 things around him, was beyond the range of a 
 man like this emperor. He did not underftand 
 his age : few men do underftand that one page of 
 hiftory upon which their own doings are in courfe 
 of being recorded. At all times, or in all times of 
 movement and progrefs, it is inevitable that, among 
 the feveral forces which are then in acStlon, the 
 greater force draws around itfelf, and carries with 
 it, in its orbit, the lefler forces that may be near it. 
 The brighter light will outfhine and abforb the 
 lefler lights. The more intenfe energy will take 
 up, and allimilate, the weaker energies. Put the 
 
240 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 mind-world in ftrenuous agitation, and then what- 
 foever has already fpent its momentum, muft obey 
 the new impulfe. 
 
 Now when we, of this time, with perhaps our 
 narrow habits of thought, and our ftereotype reli- 
 gious taftes, look into the Chriftian literature of 
 the early ages, we find what it is a wearinefs to 
 read, what is diftafteful, what we difallow ; and 
 much alfo which we think to be very much out 
 of place : — and fo it is. But there is another fide 
 of the fubjecSl. The Chriftian verities^truths 
 high, and bright, and full of power, had come in 
 upon the exhaufted mind — upon the reafon, and 
 upon the feeling, of the great commonwealth of 
 the nations, that were then embraced in the Roman 
 empire. To this fpent Mind it had imparted a new 
 life ; the intellecSt, long gone aftray, had been called 
 back to a path of confecutive thought: — the moral 
 fenfe had woke up from its trance : — the Paralytic 
 had fprung upon his feet, " leaping, and walking, 
 and praifmg God ;" and he had demonftrated the 
 reality of his recovery by taking up the bed where- 
 upon he had lain for three centuries or more, and 
 carrying it to his home on his fhoulders. 
 
 What, then, is our interpretation of the feeming 
 pedantry of the early Chriftian writers ? It is 
 juft this — the human fpirit, awake, alive, and in 
 power, was, in thofe times, depafturing itfelf in the 
 fat levels of the Greek literature : — it was taking 
 to itfelf, with a new aflimilative appetite, the 
 
• JULIAN. 241 
 
 aliment it found there. The Mind of that age had 
 liftened to the challenge from on high : " Awake 
 thou that fleepeft, and arife from the dead, and 
 Chrift {hall give thee life." So it was : this awak- 
 ening had fully come ; this refurre6lion had actually 
 taken place ; and how ftiould it be otherwife than 
 that nourifhment fhould be fought for on all fides, 
 and affimilated ? Too late, by at leaft a hundred 
 and fifty years — was it for the imperial edi6l to take 
 efFe6l in any fenfe whatever : too late to a(k the 
 Chriftian teacher to abjure his mental identity, to 
 throw away his intelleftual wealth ; or to put off, 
 if he could, his reafon, his imagination, his feeling, 
 his taftes ! 
 
 What are the fa6ls, if we look at them in a more 
 exa6t manner? The Chriftian writers and teachers 
 of the third and fourth centuries had, by their in- 
 duftry, their intelligence, and by the vitality of the 
 body to which they belonged, cbme into the pofi- 
 tion of refiduary legatees of the mental eftate of 
 ancient Greece. As to any pra6lical purpofes, there 
 were then no furviving claimants of the property ; 
 or, if we may ufe another figure, we might fay, as 
 to the intelle6tual inheritance heretofore in the 
 occupation of polytheifts, it was " an encumbered 
 eftate," from which the nominal proprietors could 
 obtain no rents, and for the improvement of 
 which they had no funds in hand. The new 
 proprietors came up, and they fet foot upon the 
 untilled acres with a free and a bold tread. They 
 R 
 
242 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 were fliackled by no obligations to the demons of 
 the departed fuperftition : — the richnefs of the foil 
 was theirs : — to the dilapidated temples they ren- 
 dered neither fervice nor tribute. This is juft the 
 feeling that one has in turning over the pages of the 
 learned Chriftian writers of thofe ages, fuch as — 
 Clemens Alexandrinus, Origen, Irenaeus, and pre- 
 eminently fo, Eufebius. We need not come down 
 to a later time — to thofe who were the adtual con- 
 temporaries of Julian. 
 
 Let us fix attention, for a moment, upon a 
 fingle inftance — an inftance of which Julian 
 muft, as a literary man, have had fome cognizance. 
 The reader may take from his fhelves the UpoTra- 
 poccTHEVY] EuayysXiKVf of the laft named writer, and 
 then tell us how many European writers of this 
 prefent time he might be able to name — Englifh, 
 German, Italian, French — whom he may believe 
 to be competent to the compofition of a work 
 equal to this, as to the vaftnefs and univerfality of 
 the learning which it exhibits, and as to the writer's 
 command of his boundlefs materials. Are there, 
 juft now, a half-dozen fuch writers, who might be 
 the modern competitors for a reputation like that 
 v/hich is the due of the author of the Evangelic 
 Preparation ? This may be doubted. 
 
 But the accomplifhed Bifliop of Caefarea wrote 
 for readers — for Chriftian, as much as for Pagan 
 readers. The book now in our hands, what is it, 
 then, but a mirror of the Chriftian intellectuality of 
 
JULIAN, 243 
 
 the author's times ? It is fo ; and when viewed in 
 this light — its true light — then we are left in mute 
 amazement at the infatuation of a fcholar-lilce man 
 who fhould think that, by the publication of an 
 edicSt, he could deprive the Galilaean {cS: and its 
 teachers of their intelle6tual exiftence ! Thefe 
 " Galilaeans " were already, and they had been fo 
 for a hundred and fifty years, the adtual lords of 
 the foil in the regions of mind ; the Galilaean 
 plough had furrowed — long before this time — it had 
 furrowed — every teeming acre of the land of thought 
 and reafon ; the Galilaean vine, through many a 
 fummer's day of many years paft, had ripened its 
 heavy clufters upon every hill-fide of the claflic 
 poetry ; beneath the broad fhadow of the terebinth 
 of Paleftine the Plato of Greece had found a new 
 home, and new lifteners ; and the time was foon 
 to come when there would not be a product of 
 the ancient mind which fliould be left outftanding 
 of the Chriftian enclofure ! What now becomes 
 of the Apoftate's bill of limitations ? 
 
 Every age has its fample of men of Julian's 
 type. There is fomething in them of the fophift, 
 fomething of the pedant : — they are theorifers 
 where they fhould concern themfelves with the 
 concrete ; and they lofe themfelves often in fome 
 fpecialty of the concrete, where they fhould be 
 regardful of great principles : — they are men who 
 are quick to fee all things — except the fun that is 
 blazing in the -high heavens over their heads. 
 
244 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 Julian (we excufe his blindnefs in recolledion of 
 the perfonal wrongs he had fufFered) could not fee 
 or underftand the miracle of that revolution which 
 the Galilaean Teacher had wrought in the moral 
 and intellectual life of all nations, from the fhores 
 of the Atlantic to the banks of the Tigris, and 
 beyond thefe limits ; but his petulance and his 
 error are continually reappearing in the evolutions 
 of human nature ; nor are we unlikely at this very 
 time to witnefs a repetition of the fame miftakes, 
 animated by the fame virulence. 
 
 Julian believed that he could ftem the tidal 
 wave of his times ; and it was no wonder that he 
 failed. Yet it is certain that, although the broad 
 Atlantic may not in any fuch manner be curbed, 
 any fmall ftream, or even a river, may be dammed 
 up, or turned into a new channel. In this fenfe, 
 or within certain limits, or, as we might fay, 
 within walls, the experiment of Prohibitive 
 Education may be fuccefsfully carried out. This 
 has been done, often, and the inftances will occur 
 to the reader's recolle6i:ion. The bifhops afTembled 
 at Carthage, toward the clofe of the fourth cen- 
 tury, decreed fomething of this fort, namely, a 
 fuperfluous prohibition of thofe profane ftudies in 
 which fome few of them, perhaps, had indulged, 
 to the fcandal of the many. Some of the mo- 
 nadic orders included in their conftitutions a rule 
 forbidding the introdu6lion of any but religious 
 books. The Jefuit Society have done the like. 
 
JULIAN, 245 
 
 where it fuited their purpofe. The more rigid of 
 our modern Proteftant fe6ts have carried out fimilar 
 reftri^live meafures in their fchemes of general or 
 of minifterial education ; and fome of them have 
 a6lually folved the problem of the pollibility of 
 giving effect to prohibitions of this kind ; fo that 
 they might triumphantly appeal to palpable evi- 
 dences of their fuccefs. See, they might fay, fee how 
 practicable a thing it is, in the training of youth, 
 to forbid their mental growth and expanfion. 
 
 The principle of Prohibitive Education may be 
 a6led upon under conditions which render it not 
 merely prafticable, but warrantable ; as for in- 
 ftance : — In the eftablifhment of fchools for the 
 children of the labouring claffes we may confine 
 the courfe of ftudy to the mere rudiments of learn- 
 ing, for this fimple reafon, that our funds do not 
 permit of our giving them more ; or otherwife, 
 that the brief hours which can be redeemed from 
 the rigorous demands of home neceflities will fuf- 
 fice for nothing more. The moft liberal and be- 
 nevolent endeavours to open the path of learning 
 to thofe who live by the labour of their hands may 
 be hemmed in by hard conditions of this fort. In 
 fuch inftances a fcheme of education fhould be faid 
 to be limited^ rather than prohibitive. But fuch 
 fchemes often fhow their prohibitive fide when 
 the infoluble problem prefents itfelf of teaching 
 children the fear of God, in fome manner which 
 all " the fubfcribers and fupporters" fhall confent 
 
246 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 to, as not involving a compromife of their " prin- 
 ciples," or as invafive of their pet prejudices. 
 
 We have nothing now to do either with elee- 
 mofynary, or with under-clafs education, or with 
 the difficulty, real or imaginary, of a combination 
 of fecular and religious training. Thefe are indeed 
 matters of the higheft importance, but they are 
 not our fubje(St: in thefe pages. Prohibitive 
 Education is a forced limitation of the ftudies of 
 thofe who (profefledly) are undergoing an upper- 
 clafs training ; or, in other words, who, with the 
 exception, or the exceptions aimed at in the pro- 
 hibition, are receiving the full meafure of inftruc- 
 tion which, in the modern advanced ftate of lite- 
 rature and fcience and philofophy, accomplifhed 
 profefTors can offer to the youth of colleges and 
 univerfities. Everything belonging to the culture 
 of the mind is to be taught, everything — except 
 that which indeed is the ground, the means, the 
 Alpha and the Omega, of all culture. 
 
 When Prohibitive Education, under conditions 
 of this fort, is carried out in the very midft of a 
 Chriftianized community, there may be reafon to 
 believe, or we may be willing to perfuade our- 
 felves, that it is fo — that the prohibited difcipline, 
 and the prohibited knowledge, are elfewhere ef- 
 fected and imparted, be it at home, or in a private 
 courfe of ftudy, or fome other way, fancied and 
 furmlfed. It will, however, be found in fad, or 
 in the very large majority of inftances, that the 
 
yULUN. 247 
 
 vacant room of the prohibited fubje6l has come to 
 be filled up by a pofitive formation of fome fort. 
 Nature (certainly it is fo in the world of mind) 
 nature abhors a vacuum ; and what is not formally 
 and authentically imparted will be fupplied either 
 clandeftinely, or fpontaneoufly. The natural com- 
 plement of a non-religious education is — a pofitive 
 atheifm. 
 
 Remedies, compenfations, re-a6tions, may come 
 in to balance, or to neutralife, or to abate the mif- 
 chiefs accruing from a fcheme of Prohibitive Edu- 
 cation : — or it may be fo in a country like Eng- 
 land. It is always allowable to think of fuch 
 curative after-influences, as poffible, and perhaps as 
 probable. 
 
 The conditions under which prohibitive educa- 
 tion may be attempted, or may be carried forward, 
 in India, are altogether of another fort. An upper- 
 clafs, or univerfity education, given to the higher 
 ranks of the Hindoo people, if it be in any fenfe 
 prohibitive, feals the fate of thofe who receive it : 
 they are its victims. 
 
 The fecularifm of the prefent time, as applied 
 to the principles of the courfe to be purfued in 
 India, congefts itfelf (as to education) into a pro- 
 pofal of this fort. — We will freely fpread before 
 you the entire wealth of our European intelli- 
 gence, in the feveral departments of literature, 
 and fcience, and philofophy, taking care — and we 
 pledge our Englifh honour to you in this inftance 
 
248 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 — taking care to fay and to teach nothing that 
 touches our religion, or, as it is called at home, 
 "our Chriftianity." 
 
 This offer and this profeflion, fo made to the 
 educationable clafles of our Indian fubjedts, muft 
 no doubt be condemned by Chriftian men, on the 
 ground of reafons which they will regard as abfo- 
 lute and irrefiftible. Be it fo ; but the profeflion 
 itfelf, with the offer which is made on this ground, 
 includes a great miftake as to the fadts thereto 
 relating : — it is a blunder which, like that of Ju- 
 lian in his prohibitive edi6l, muft either fail 
 utterly in the execution, or, if it fucceeds, it will 
 bring with it confequences at the fight of which 
 we fhall ftand aghaft. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 WE muft not fpare homely language, tempe- 
 rately applied, where it fits. There are 
 principles which, although they may be difregarded 
 by public men — driven as thefe fo often are to the 
 employment of miferable fhifts in the conduct of 
 affairs, will never be difputed among men of intel- 
 ligence, how widely foever fuch men m.ay differ in 
 opinion on controvertible fubjedls. 
 
 There are principles which are at once laws of 
 their craft, and rules of honour, among thofe who. 
 
JULIAN. 249 
 
 either by the pen, or from profeiTorlal chairs, take 
 rank as teachers of others. If fuch principles have 
 often been forgotten, or contemned, by men of 
 this clafs, individually, they are never difputed or 
 denied. Or if, in ages paft, they have been little 
 regarded, in thefe times, it is certain, they muft 
 be honoured and a6led upon. 
 
 The firft and foremoft of thefe principles, or 
 axioms, or laws, as we might call them, of the 
 profeiTorial guild, is that which enjoins upon the 
 teacher (not of boys, but of thofe who are approach- 
 ing manhood) an abfolute truthfulnefs, a fmglenefs 
 of intention, fpringing fpontaneoully,from the com- 
 bination of clearnefs in the reafon — unclouded in- 
 tellectuality, and moral integrity : — it is the fruit of 
 uprightnefs and luminoufnefs. The teacher of 
 men, fome of them perhaps a few years only his 
 juniors, muft mingle himfelf with them on fuch 
 terms of equality as are fuppofed when all are ani- 
 mated by one and the fame intention — when all, 
 with a like feeling, are pufhing forward upon the 
 fame road — one of them, it may be, a little in ad- 
 vance of the others. Truth is our obje6l, and 
 truthfulnefs muft be our mood and temper, and 
 truthfulnefs is the pledge we give one to another : 
 — truthfulnefs — a fm againft which is indeed a 
 fm unpardonable. 
 
 No fuch queftion will ever be put to his con- 
 fcience by a truthful teacher as this : — How far 
 may I lean over toward the falfe, without infring- 
 
250 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 ing upon the limits of profeflbrial fincerlty ? A 
 right-minded teacher abhors the trefpafs, and he 
 holds in utter contempt any approximation toward 
 it J and he fcorns therefore to whifper to himfelf, 
 or to his colleagues, any queftion of this order. 
 Falfification muft not be thought of: concealment, 
 for a purpofe not confefTed — is, falfification. It need 
 fcarcelybe faid that, on the ground of an underftand- 
 ing among profefTors, each may abftain from intro- 
 ducing fubjecSts which, as they are the province of 
 one of them, and are known to be fully taught by 
 him, and which, as they are incidental only to his 
 colleagues, are left by them to his exclufive treat- 
 ment. Conceilions of this kind come not within 
 our fcope. 
 
 It is a different cafe If a Senatus — a body of Pro- 
 fefTors — meet in conclave, and if they collectively 
 pledge themfelves to their patrons, not to teach, 
 not to bring forward, not to mention, this or that 
 clafs of fa(5ls, although nearly related to fubjeits 
 that are profefTedly taught by them. This is what 
 will not be done by men who refpeft themfelves, 
 and who are regardful of the duties, and the rights, 
 and the dignity of their order. 
 
 This independence, this fimplicity and integrity, 
 and this abfolute liberty of ipeech — this refplendence 
 of the reafon, fet upon the pure gold of moral 
 recStitude, Is the teacher's qualification, teach where 
 he may ; but how Indifpenfable is it If he be fent 
 forth and conflltuted as the teacher of thofe whofe 
 
JVLIAN, 251 
 
 firfl fault — the front vice of their ancient race — 
 the turpitude of the ethics they have inherited 
 from thoufands of years of falfity and delufion — is 
 this very apathy — this wantof confcioufnefs toward 
 truth and truthfulnefs ? If now we might take a 
 fair fample of the European, and pre-eminently 
 of the Britifli mind, and if we were to bring it into 
 contraft with the Oriental, and pre-eminently with 
 the Hindoo mind, the moft falient point of that 
 contraft would be — this intelle6tual and moral co- 
 herence and confiftency, on the one fide, and an 
 almoft abfolute want of it on the other fide. Such 
 being the fa6t — and we think it is fo — then fliall 
 v^Q. undertake the teaching and training of the 
 Hindoo — a training and a difcipline which is in- 
 tended to lift him up to our own level — and in doing 
 fo fhall the initial lefTon which we give him be of 
 this kind — that we ihow ourfelves falfe to our own 
 convictions ? We pledge our Britifh honour to 
 the Hindoo to this extent, that, in teaching him, 
 we tell him either that there is no truth in the 
 w^orld, or that we care nothing about it. 
 
 It may be afked in what way, or by what chain 
 of inferences, is a falfenefs of this kind implied in 
 our undertaking to teach our European literature 
 and fcience and philofophy, while vf& abftain from 
 teaching our religion ? In finding an anfwer to 
 this queftion, we muft confider it in relation to 
 two probable fuppofitions,as thus : — The ProfefTor 
 in a College where Hindoos and Mahometans are 
 
252 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 taught may be an accomplifhed man who, avow- 
 edly, has no religion — who believes nothing ; or 
 believes that all religions are alike. In fuch a cafe, 
 then, the teacher compromifes no confcience of 
 his own, for he has none ; but then the imputation 
 of falfenefs — an imputation which will not fail to be 
 carried forward — pafTes over the head of the indi- 
 vidual teacher, and fixes itfelf upon the authorities 
 above him. " Here are our fuperiors, calling 
 themfelves Chriftians, and yet appointing a man 
 to inftrucSl: us who is known to hold their Chrif- 
 tianity itfelf in contempt ; or, at the beft, he is 
 utterly indifferent toward it. They themfelves, 
 therefore, either contemn the national religion, or 
 they, like our profeffor, are indifferent toward it. 
 There muff be a falfenefs fomewhere, either in 
 the patrons, or in the profeffor ; or in both." 
 
 But let it be fuppofed that the profeffor is him- 
 felf a religious man ; — he is a theift and a Chrif- 
 tian. Neverthelefs he pledges himfelf to keep his 
 religion out of fight in the whole of his intercourfe, 
 public and private, with the men whom he initiates 
 in the literature or fcience of Europe. Are Hin- 
 doo or Mahometan youths likely to comprehend 
 thofe attenuated reafons of policy which may feem 
 to juftify a courfe like this — a courfe in which the 
 centre truths of all philofophy are to be thruft 
 from their place, left native prejudices fhould take 
 alarm ? This will not be. If fuch youths might 
 chance to fix an eye upon a page (now before us) 
 
JULIAN. 253 
 
 of Julian's Epiftles, undoubtedly they would 
 think that this Pagan's reproaches might fitly be 
 applied to their Englifh teachers — xoii ^^ax/^wv q>!\,- 
 ycov hsKo. 7ravroi(; b7roiJt.sv?.iv '. for the fake of their fti- 
 pends they will patiently fay, or not fay, this, or 
 that, or anything, or nothing. 
 
 Along with that defensive fenfitivenefs toward 
 truth and truth fulnefs, which, as we have faid, is 
 the chara6leriftic of the Hindoo mind, there is — 
 and in this refpe6l the Mahometan is little in ad- 
 vance of the Hindoo — a defe6i:ive conception of 
 the rightful fovereignty of Evidence, or valid 
 proof, on any fubje6l. Through countlefs periods 
 the people of India have taken to themfelves reli- 
 gious beliefs upon no warranty whatever of reafon : 
 — prodigious fyftems of mythology, theogenies,and 
 theories of the univerfe, in relation to which the 
 queftion — Is it true? would never be put, or, if 
 put, could never be anfwered. In the Hindoo 
 mental ftru(5l:ure it would feem as if the nerves 
 which {hould connect a belief of any kind with the 
 reafoning faculty have, long ago, quite withered 
 away. It is not fo entirely with the Mahometan ; 
 but he alfo needs — and it is the firft neceffity of 
 his intelle6tual training — he needs to be made con- 
 fcious of this principle, that we are bound to feek 
 for, and to obey, evidence^ and that we muft yield 
 ourfelves to proof. Thus, if the firft lefTon in our 
 European training of the Oriental mind be truth- 
 fulnefs^ integrity, intellectual and moral, the fecond 
 
254 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 lefTon, which indeed is logical rather than moral, 
 and which might be fpoken of as a difcipline rather 
 than an axiom, is, the bringing thefe relaxed intel- 
 leils, thefe nervelefs brains, into a due bearing 
 with procefles of reafoning, mathematical, phyfical, 
 and hiftorical, confidered as forces which are to cotn- 
 mand us^ and which muft carry us along with 
 them. 
 
 Our European phyfical fciences feal the fate of 
 Hindooifm ; and in like manner it might be faid — 
 and it would be fo, in fadl, if we ourfelves could 
 but underftand it — that a genuine training and an 
 unreftri6led inftru6lion in European hiftory muft 
 feal the fate of the Mahometan belief; that is to 
 fay, fuch a courfe of infl:ru6lion involves its refu- 
 tation and its demolition, as a belief which edu- 
 cated men may now retain. As to that religious 
 treatment which it is the part and duty of the 
 Chriftian teacher, the miffionary, to undertake, we 
 have nothing to do with it in thefe pages. What 
 we are fpeaking of is college-training. Now, in 
 a courfe of college-training, we are bound, or 
 ought to think ourfelves bound, fo to teach mo- 
 dern hiftory as ftiall neceffarily be deftru6tive of 
 Mahometanifm. If we undertake to open the 
 volume of Modern European Hiftory to the Ma- 
 hometan, faving and refpedling his faith in the 
 miflion of the Prophet, we pledge ourfelves to 
 utter a virtual lie at every ftep of our courfe. If 
 I am appointed to a Chair of Hiftory, anywhere 
 
JULIAN. 255 
 
 within the arms of the Ganges and the Indus, and 
 if, before entering the hall, I bind myfelf to refpecSt 
 the prejudices of the Mahometan youth of my 
 clafs — if I do this, I put myfelf in a pofition which 
 is nothing better than that of a fuborned witnefs 
 in a momentous fuit. 
 
 What fort of European hiftory is it which an 
 honeft teacher fhould unfold in view of Mahome- 
 tan (and Hindoo) youths who are to receive an 
 unreftri6led European education ? We may boldly 
 fay it is fuch a hiftory as is not yet anywhere ex- 
 tant in the compafs of European literature : it is 
 fuch a hiftory as muft be compiled by men who, 
 at fome future time, are to be called up and created 
 for the performance of fo fignal a fervice as this, 
 namely — the bringing the Oriental mind into 
 correfpondence with the European mind, clear 
 and clean of our European misjudgments, and of 
 whatfoever in our Chriftianity is national, and po- 
 litical, and temporary. 
 
 Mahometan youths fhould be made to feel that 
 the ground is folid under their feet, at every ftep 
 in their progrefs in modern hiftory. The vaft 
 extent and the variety of the materials of this hif- 
 tory, the inter-relationftiip of its feveral elements, 
 and the irrefiftible evidences upon which it refts, 
 fhould be placed fully before them. The courfe of 
 events within the compafs of this hiftory is authen- 
 tically known ; it is known in its details : although 
 it may be brought into queftion at this or that 
 
256 ESSJrS, ETC, 
 
 point, yet, as a whole, as a mafs, it ftands clear of 
 a fhadow of doubt. You muft take it at our hands, 
 and accept it as not lefs fure than are the phyfical 
 fciences which you are learning from us in the ad- 
 joining halls. 
 
 But now how fhall it be poffible, in any fuch 
 ample manner as this, and with any fuch fearlefs 
 fmcerity and fimplicity, to teach hiftory, namely, 
 the hiftory of the European nations during the 
 eighteen centuries paft, and not touch or teach 
 our Chriftianity, and not ofFend Mahometan fenfi- 
 tivenefs ? Nothing of this fort is poffible. No 
 artifice of referve, no method of concealment, none 
 of the fubterfuges of a miftaken delicacy, no rules 
 of a fcheme of Prohibitive Education, will avail us 
 in this cafe. In teaching hiftory we muft needs 
 fpeak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but 
 the truth ; and inafmuch as a bold-minded and 
 fimple-hearted teacher has nothing on his own 
 fide to conceal, fo will he not confent to conceal 
 anything on the fuppofition, fo infulting to thofe 
 who have put their minds into his hands, that they 
 would not wifh to learn it. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 THE expreffions fo often ufed of late in con- 
 ne6lion with Indian affairs — '^ our Religion" 
 
JULIAN. 257 
 
 — " our Chriftianlty " — and " the teaching our Reli- 
 gion in India" — convey, and conceal in conveying 
 it, a ferious mifapprehenfion of fa£ts w^hich fhould 
 be better underftood. The correlative phrafe, " our 
 Religion," has no meaning, unlefs it implies that 
 there are other religions abreaft of our own, and 
 w^hich may claim to be thought of, and cared for, 
 and endowed, along with it, and which, perhaps, 
 may have as good a claim as our own to a refpe6l- 
 ful treatment. 
 
 It is quite true that, when we put ourfelves in 
 the pofition of the fubjugated nations of the Eaft 
 (and we ought fo to place ourfelves fometimes) 
 that, as looked at from this point of view, " our 
 Pveligion" is only one of feveral ; and it is true, 
 moreover, that, in all matters of fifcal juftice, and 
 in all matters concerning the police, and in what- 
 foever touches the principles and the pra6lices of 
 a perfe61: religious toleration, thefe " other reli- 
 gions" polTefs unimpeachable claims to a careful 
 and even fcrupulous regard on the part of a con- 
 quering and omnipotent alien Government. All 
 this is out of queftion, and it can fcarcely be necef- 
 fary formally to fay as much. 
 
 But what we are concerned with in this EfTay 
 ftands altogether on another ground. We are not 
 fpeaking of this or of that religion, looked at from 
 the Hindoo or the Mahometan point of view ; 
 nor yet of " our religion" fuch as it is, and ought 
 to be regarded by the Chriftian mifTionary, or by 
 s 
 
258 ESS ATS, ETC, 
 
 Chriftian teachers. What we have before us is 
 the propofed impartatlon of European intelligence 
 — its literature, its phyfical fcience, and its abftra6l 
 philofophy — to the native mind, both Hindoo and 
 Mahometan : — and as to this training and this teach- 
 ing, we aflume that it is to be ample, and genuine, 
 and unreferved, and honeft. Furthermore, while 
 an education of this kind is not fet on foot for the 
 purpofe of teaching Chriftianity (for this teaching 
 fhould flow in altogether another channel) it 
 cannot be deliberately intended to teach, and to en- 
 fure the adoption of, that virulent European athe- 
 ifm which, at this time efpecially, is the only " other 
 Religion" to which Chriftianity ftands oppofed. 
 
 In carrying to India the mafs and the volume 
 of European intelligence — its fpecific knowledge, 
 and thofe modes of thinking that are adopted by 
 the educated clafTes of Chriftianized Europe, we 
 muft take with us either the material atheifm of 
 France or Germany, or elfe we muft take our 
 Chriftian Theifm, and our Chriftian fentiment 
 and feeling : the one fyftem, or the other muft be 
 afTumed as the centre of thought, and as the ful- 
 crum and the energy around which all other forces 
 are to revolve, and toward which all things muft 
 tend. But then as to this Atheifm, we muft know 
 v/hat is its name at this moment, and where it is to 
 be found, and who is its high prieft, or its Mahomet. 
 For, asto the laft of the atheifms that has been much 
 fpoken of, it was flain awhile ago, not by Chrif- 
 
JULIAN. 259 
 
 tian hands, but by the minifters of a rehgion of 
 the fame order, which is now, we are told, almoft 
 ready to make its triumphant entry upon the ftage 
 of the world, and to rule our future deftinies. 
 Meantime we may be fure it is Chriftianity that 
 muft ftand, where it has fo long flood — the centre, 
 the fulcrum, the reafon, the law of all movements 
 in the great world of cultured thought, feeling, 
 and aftion. 
 
 We return, for a moment, to Julian and his 
 times. He failed to apprehend the fa6l that, fome 
 time before the mid years of the fourth century, 
 Chriftianity had become the dominant power in the 
 world of thought. Toward it all things in that 
 world tended ; around it, as their centre, all things 
 were coming to revolve. Named, or not named, 
 in books ; profefTed, or reje6led, this was the fun 
 among the planets, and aflliredly there was then 
 no other fun in the heavens. This confpicuous 
 fa6l this emperor and philofopher did not under- 
 ftand ; and therefore he thought that he might 
 fhut off the Greek literature from the enclofures 
 of the Galilaean k&. ! — a great miftake ! Never- 
 thelefs this attempt, impra6licable as it was, muft 
 be accounted a lefs miftake than is the endeavour, 
 at this time made, to fhut off Chriftianity from the 
 range and compafs of European fcience and philo- 
 fophy. 
 
 There are thofe near us who would vehemently 
 affirm the contrary of this, and who will tell us 
 
26o ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 that all things, or all things worth the knowing — 
 the encyclopedia of a thorough college education, 
 may be conveyed: — Theifm apart, and Chriftianity 
 apart. Grant it that this may be done in a Euro- 
 pean college ; but no fuch abnegation of the 
 higheft truths will be effected without having re- 
 courfe to an afFe6lation of ignorance, the animus 
 of which every youth in the clafs will perfectly 
 underfland, and, underftanding it, he is fo far pro- 
 te61:ed from its ill influence. But carry out this 
 fame animus^ with its thin coating of affectation, 
 to India. What the refult will there be needs 
 hardly to be affirmed. 
 
 To the Hindoo, thus inflru^led in thofe phy- 
 fical fciences which are fatal to his Hindooifm, 
 there can remain nothing but the pantheifm which 
 is ever near at hand to the Oriental intelle6t, and 
 which, when hardened in paffing through the fires 
 of the phyfical fciences, becomes an indurated 
 atheifm, for ever impenetrable to every foftening 
 influence. The Adahometan, taught to think 
 freely as to his prophet's miffion, and if he be taught 
 nothing as to the relative force of the Chriftian 
 argument, finds, in his rejeff ion of his own faith, 
 reafon enough for rejecting that of his teacher; if 
 indeed he can think that his teacher is pofTefl'ed of 
 any faith at all. 
 
 In India, Prohibitive Education, carried 
 out in colleges, can be nothing elfe than a training 
 of youth in a fpecies of atheifm which (hall qualify 
 
JULIAN. 261 
 
 the upper ranks of the native races for looking on 
 with more than Oriental indifference, while the 
 maffes of the people, in fome future outburft — not 
 far off — are wrecking now a poftponed vengeance, 
 upon their European oppreffors. 
 
 A wrongful policy may be maintained and kept 
 in vigour long — from generation to generation ; 
 for it has no remorfes, no fcruples, no hefitations, 
 no fhame, no reluctances. But a mijlaken policy, 
 well intentioned, will not fail quickly to get itfelf 
 fet faft in the impracticable : — it was full of incon- 
 gruities when it ftarted ; and thefe incongruities 
 break out upon the furface as fheer abfurdities, 
 after a very little time. So will it be with the 
 endeavour to carry out in India a fcheme of Pro- 
 hibitive Education. Prohibit nothing — or nothing 
 which is not immoral, and then Chriftianity comes 
 into its due pofition — not as " our religion," but 
 as the one and the only religion in the world. 
 
ESSAY VII. 
 
 " Without Controverfyy 
 
 AI oixoXoyouix'svu; — " confefTedly." A 
 fenfe muft be fought for in which 
 this apoftolic phrafe * might be ap- 
 plied, either to the "great myftery" 
 which then and there is named, or to any other 
 article of a Chriflian man's belief; for, in fa(£l, all 
 principles are controverted, and every article of 
 every creed is difputed, and is denied, and is re- 
 je6led, by fome around us ; and even by fome to 
 whofe exceptions a degree of refpe6l is due. So 
 it is now ; and fo it has been in every age ; and fo 
 it was at the moment when this paftoral epiftle 
 was written, and defpatched. 
 
 But in this place, as we are not undertaking to 
 expound Scripture, we need not ftop to afcertain, 
 with precifion, the fenfe which the infpired writer 
 might have attributed to this phrafe, as he here 
 employs it. He might perhaps ufe the word 
 
 * I Tim. ill. i6. 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 263 
 
 adverbially, or for emphafis, and in no very fl:ri6l 
 or definite fenfe, but merely as a word fuited to 
 exprefs his own ftrong feeling of the certainty of 
 that one great truth, which, furpaffing, as it does, 
 the utmoft compafs of human thought, is never- 
 thelefs the truth, moft firmly to be held, as it is 
 the foundation of every other article of Chriflian 
 theology. We may thus think, and pafs on ; and 
 then afk — In what fenfe, by aid of an allowable 
 accommodation perhaps, we, at this time^ may 
 apply the fame word to any doctrine, or article of 
 belief, which we ourfelves embrace with the fulleft 
 confidence ? How fhall we bring ourfelves to 
 think of any of our elementary convictions, and, 
 always fuppofing that we are well informed, as to 
 the hiftory of religious opinions, and the prefent 
 Itate of controverfies throughout Chriftendom, 
 fhall affirm concerning it, that it is received and af- 
 fented to — o/xoXoyoufAsvag — "without controverfy ?" 
 There is no one element of faith to which, in this 
 fenfe^ we may apply this phrafe. Merely to affirm 
 of a doctrine that if it be true^ it is confefTedly " a 
 great myftery," is little better than to affirm a 
 truifm in a frigid manner. 
 
 There is, however, a fenfe in which a Chrif- 
 tian man thoroughly informed, may fo fpeak of 
 his own faith, and, feverally, of its elements : — 
 and it is thus. Let us take the inftance of thofe 
 — and there are many fuch at this time — who, 
 whether or not they may have paiTed through a 
 
264 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 courfe of theological training, as if preparatory to 
 the exercife of the Chriftian miniftry, are fairly 
 well-informed on all thofe fubjedls that are ufually 
 included in a clerical education. We fuppofe fuch 
 perfons to be furrounded alfo with the neceflary 
 aids for profecuting ftudies of this order, and for 
 recovering what they may have forgotten : — they 
 are, more or lefs, converfant with religious hiftory, 
 ancient and modern ; and, as to the controverfies 
 of recent times, fuch perfons are, we may fuppofe, 
 acquainted with them, and they know at what 
 ftage or point the always-advancing mafs of reli- 
 gious, and of irreligious thought, is juft now 
 making a momentary paufe. To fuch perfons, 
 therefore, there will not be room to addrefs the 
 fupercilious caution — " You would do well to read 
 
 Mr. *s book, juft out; for when you have 
 
 read it, you will fee ground for lowering the tone 
 in which you fpeak of your cherifhed, but anti- 
 quated, orthodoxy." 
 
 Thofe who ftand in a pofition fuch as that 
 which we have now indicated, toward the world 
 of religious thought — toward its controverfies, and 
 its beliefs, may often be tempted to envy the feli- 
 city of fome fimple-hearted Chriftian people around 
 them, who, uninformed in fuch matters, and quite 
 mindlefs as toward every fpecies of gainfaying, are 
 content to hold faft the " form of found words " 
 which they have been taught ; and thus they live, 
 and breathe, and thrive, walking and refling in the 
 
WITHOUT CONTROFERSr. 265 
 
 funny Beulah of untroubled faith. But we are 
 forbidden, by the conftitution as well of the intel- 
 le6lual as of the moral world, to recede from a 
 pofition to which we have fpontaneoufly advanced: 
 — it is not allowable to take up the cup of know- 
 ledge, and then to forget that we have tafted it : 
 the tafte will remain, as a bitternefs on the palate, 
 ever afterwards, unlefs we go on to fip, and to 
 drink anew. Be ignorant, or, if you would not be 
 ignorant, then learn whatever may be learned. 
 Think not at all ; or elfe think on to the end. 
 
 Neverthelefs, although it is not permitted to us 
 to fall back upon the immunities of fimple igno- 
 rance, if once thefe have been forfeited, there is 
 ftill a courfe that may be taken, and in taking 
 which a more folid peace may be fecured than 
 the peace of ignorance can be, and where a fafer 
 anchorage may be found than is that of the fhoal 
 of mindlefs aflentation. 
 
 Thofe who, through life, have acquainted them- 
 felves with controverfy, and who, perhaps, may 
 have touched it themfelves, and who, within their 
 circles, have ufed and acquired the ftyle and habit 
 of argumentation — thofe who are often meeting 
 and refuting objections — thofe who are accuftomed 
 to the wearing of armour, and the poifmg of wea- 
 pons — fuch perfons well know how difficult it is 
 for them to fix their attention upon great truths, 
 thought of apart from all the denials of them — on 
 this fide, and on that fide. Even into the retire- 
 
266 ESSJrS^ ETC. 
 
 ments of the mod fecluded and abftracSted fan6lum 
 of religious meditation, the grim fpecSlre of an 
 antagonift makes its way, and, at a glance of the 
 forbidding and palid vifage, a vigilant logic wakes 
 up, and an encounter is threatened ! 
 
 But there comes a time in a man's courfe, ear- 
 lier or later, even of fuch an one as we are here 
 fuppofmg, when he may well, and fafely, and much 
 to his perfonal comfort, fhut the door againft argu- 
 ment and contradidion, and when he may bring 
 himfelf into near communion with the truths of 
 his belief — apart from the denial of them, or as if 
 what is true were, in all men's efteem, "confef- 
 fedly" true. He thus forgets the opinions of 
 others, and he believes himfelf at liberty to fay — 
 Now, at length, and henceforward to the end of 
 life, let me rejl upon my beliefs, as axioms that 
 are held — o/xoxoyoufxsvcog — in their indifputed and 
 azure-like fimplicity and certainty. 
 
 This faith of a Chriftian man's meditative even- 
 ing hour, we may imagine to be enjoyed where he 
 looks around upon the backs of many books which 
 he has read, but which he will not open again ; 
 and yet his faith muft not be contemned, as if it 
 were a blind faith ; for a man is not blind who, 
 having been converfant, long enough, with the 
 ftormy things of earth, turns the eye to the region 
 where ftorms do not arife. The queftion comes 
 then as to what thofe beliefs are which, fafely, and 
 with advantage, may be brought infide the confe- 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. ib-j 
 
 crated enclofure of religious meditation, and which 
 may be privileged as principles that are held — 
 controverfy apart. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 IF there were room for a queftion, whether I 
 fhould admit myfteries, and perhaps " great 
 myfteries," into my creed, then this doubt would 
 be removed at the outfet ; for myfteries that are 
 deep and impenetrable hover around its very firft 
 article, which is to fet forth what I believe con- 
 cerning Human Nature, and the human family, 
 and, confequently, my own place and deftiny, as 
 thereto related. 
 
 But why, contrary to every fyftematic rule and 
 cuftom in creed-making, why begin this with an 
 article of this fort ? The reafon for doing fo may 
 be thus exemplified by aid of an analogy. The 
 firft ftep in acquiring a true knowledge of the 
 celeftial bodies — their magnitudes, diftances, and 
 motions — is the meafuring an arc of the earth's 
 furface : this initial and unambitious operation 
 precludes many and grievous errors concerning 
 my own ftanding-place in the material univerfe ; 
 and, moreover, it puts into my hand the fure 
 means of carrying elaborate calculations outward 
 and upward to vaft diftances, even as far as to the 
 
268 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 outfkirts of this planetary fyftem, if not beyond 
 that fyftem. If ancient aftronomers had been 
 content to take this courfe, or, if taking it, they 
 had followed it out, what we now call " our mo- 
 dern aftronomv" would, by this time, have been 
 an "ancient aftronomy," and yet true. 
 
 In making a commencement where I now 
 make it, for finding the ftarting-point of a creed, 
 I efcape the danger which has been fo fearleffly 
 met by the framers of fymbols, namely, the pre- 
 fuming myfelf to know vaftly more than I do, or 
 ever can know. The Divine Nature, fo far as 
 it may be apprehended by the human mind, muft 
 become known to it in quite another manner than 
 that of abftraft fpeculation, or of logical dedu6tion. 
 And yet fyflems of theology are made up of pro- 
 portions concerning the Infinite Being, which 
 propofitions, if I follow them out in logical order, 
 lead me not into light, but into utter darknefs — the 
 darknefs either of univerfal doubt, or of material 
 atheifm. 
 
 But now, in giving expreflion to my belief con- 
 cerning this — its foremoft article, touching human 
 nature, and the moral fyftem, I have faid that 
 myfteries attach to it : — what are they, or why 
 admit them ? Human nature is a^^^, which is 
 under my eye ; and if, with human nature fpread 
 out before me, I am willing to abftain from uncer- 
 tain fpeculations, and to keep within the range of 
 unqueftionable realities — if I refufe to follow any 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 269 
 
 vague Inferences ; and if I reprefs, and hold in con- 
 tempt, mere emotions and fympathies, which are 
 fruitlefs and idle, then, and on thefe conditions, 
 may I not preferve my belief concerning the 
 human family, quite exempt from myfteries ? Not 
 fo ; or at the beft, in the place of myfteries, which 
 may indeed trouble me, I fhall come in front 
 of contradi6lions and incoherences which muft 
 actually ftagger and paralyze the reafoning faculty. 
 A phyfiology of man which excludes all myftery, 
 can be nothing more than an anatomy : it gives 
 the parts^ the folids, the fluids, the mechanifm; 
 but it does not give the fun6tions. 
 
 But were not ancient fchemes of human nature 
 much lefs encumbered with myftery, and far more 
 llghtfome, and eafy of apprehenfion than are any 
 of thofe fchemes or theories which I might now 
 be willing to accept as expreffive of my belief 
 on this fubje6l ? It muft be granted that they 
 were fo ; and yet I am not at liberty fo to releafe 
 myfelf from the burden that has come upon me, 
 for it has come in confequence of a great extenfion 
 of my range of vifion, and in confequence alfo of a 
 knowledge of fa6ls that were not heretofore known, 
 or, if known, regarded ; and the burden of myftery 
 has become as oppreflive as it is in confequence 
 alfo of the quickening of moral fentiments which 
 had flept for ages, even throughout the times of 
 the ancient philofophy. The perplexities which 
 darken my profpe6l, and fadden my meditative 
 
270 ESSJrS, ETC, 
 
 hours, could not in any way be difpelled, unlefs I 
 might unknow what I have come to know, and 
 then might ceafe to feel what I could not wifh 
 not to feel. If I labour to forget what I know, 
 the mere attempt fixes it the more firmly in my 
 memory; and as to an attempted abatement of 
 feeling, or a fadlitious quaftiing of any fenfibility, 
 which approves itfelf as of genial and beneficent 
 quality, this would be — even if I could attempt it, 
 a brutalizing operation ; and better were it to be- 
 come infenfible and earthly, in the vulgar method 
 of a life of animal indulgence and fordid felfifhnefs, 
 than to force myfelf into it by a procefs of philo- 
 fophical fophiftication. 
 
 As member of the community of mind, at this 
 time, and as a partaker of that religious and intel- 
 lecSlual training which is therein to be had, I have 
 undergone a difcipline which, in its confequences, 
 brings the fhadow of the moft fombre myfteries 
 to reft upon this — the firft article of my creed, 
 concerning human nature, and the ftate and prof- 
 pedls of the human family. How this comes 
 about may thus be explained. 
 
 I may be in company, for a length of time, 
 with fome one who is confpicuoufly eminent above 
 his fellows, and vaftly my fuperior, in wifdom and 
 virtue. I contemplate, with involuntary admira- 
 tion, his felf-command, his felf-denial, his a6tive 
 benevolence, his energy, courage, and afliduity in 
 labouring for the good of others ; I obferve alfo 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. i^i 
 
 his humility and modefty ; I admire the tranflu- 
 cence of his chara6ler, and its ftrength. But this 
 admiration, and this efteem, which grow in me 
 from day to day, are not mere fentiments of awe, 
 and refpe6l, and affedion ; for there attends thefe 
 feelings, or foon follows them, a kindling emotion 
 which is perhaps new to me. I muft not call it 
 ambition^ for it has a high and a pure intention, to 
 which this term does not well apply. This new 
 impulfe is an energy, deeply ftirring my whole 
 nature ; and it utters itfelf in fervent ejaculations 
 of this fort : — Would that I were fuch as is this 
 my admirable friend ! Shall I not emulate his 
 virtues ? Shall I not take him as my pattern, and 
 follow his fteps, and become, in fome meafure, 
 like him ? 
 
 This emulous and hopeful impulfe I feel to be 
 the indication of a law of my moral ftru6lure 
 which, although it may long have been latent, and 
 might continue latent, ought to ftand as the axiom 
 of any true philofophy of human nature. If now 
 the perfon whom I thus acknowledge to be fo 
 much my fuperior, were one of a higher order of 
 beings — a member of the celeftial hierarchy, the 
 conditions of whofe exiftence are elTentially unlike 
 thofe to which I am fubje6led, fo that his virtue, 
 and my virtue, can have no convertible value, and 
 fo that there could be no room for emulation or 
 imitation on my part — then, and on that fuppofi- 
 tion, the vivid emotion which juft now I have 
 
272 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 fpoken of, muft inftantly fubfide, and in the place of 
 it there would come over me a lifelefs and power- 
 lefs awe : — veneration, love, perhaps ; but it muft 
 be a love that would be ineffedive and unavailing. 
 Or let me take an inftance of another kind. 
 The being whom I acknowledge as my fuperior 
 in wifdom and virtue, may be one who, as to his 
 natural endowments, his intelligence, and power 
 of thought, is not my equal, but far otherwife ; 
 nor, as to his early advantages, have they been 
 fuch as to put him, in the world's efteem, on a 
 level with me, or near it. Neverthelefs I yield to 
 him a place of efteem in my inmoft thoughts, to 
 which, as if it were due to myfelf, I dare not pre- 
 tend : he is my fuperior. In this cafe the fame 
 confcioufnefs of a power in myfelf, though latent, 
 or very feebly alive, is awakened, and it is pun- 
 gently ftimulated, though in another manner. Here 
 is my humble friend who has got the ftart of me 
 fo far on the upward path, notwithftanding the 
 lower range of his intellect, and the many defects 
 of his early training. What is it that I have been 
 doing thefe many years ? With what trifles have 
 I been occupied ? Why have I not become — 
 what he is — yes, and much more than this — advan- 
 taged by my ftronger reafon, and the various cul- 
 ture it has had ! Here again I recognize a firft 
 principle in human nature — its caufative moral 
 power — to think wrongly concerning which, or to 
 allow fophiftries of any kind, philofophical or 
 
WITHOUT CONTROFERSr. 273 
 
 theological, to cloak it with evafions, muft be of 
 the moft ferious ill confequence : it is certain that, 
 whatever may be loft fight of in my creed, this 
 prime article, on which hinges my faith in the 
 reality of the moral fyftem, muft not be wanting 
 in it. I muft take care to fecure a foremoft place 
 for this belief. 
 
 In thefe experiences there is a tacit recognition 
 of the principle, that the moral element in human 
 nature is its leading or paramount element, and is 
 that toward which the mental organization tends, 
 as the centre or final caufe of the ftru6ture. The 
 fight of eminent wifdom and virtue excites an 
 emotion of admiration and efteem which is in- 
 voluntary and irrefiftible ; and beyond this there 
 comes an emotion taking effe£l upon my perfonal 
 confcioufnefs, and inciting me to move forward on 
 the fame path. Yet no fuch impulfe takes efFe6l 
 upon me unlefs there be alfo a confcioufnefs, feeble 
 or vivid, of a power fo to do. I gaze upward as 
 the eagle foars cloudward, and may think his 
 power of wing enviable ; but the idle wifti to 
 overtake him in the fky has no momentum in it, 
 for nature has denied me wings. 
 
 Thus far my experience of human nature does 
 not neceftarily throw an inference forward beyond 
 the prefent economy of mundane life : to gather 
 fuch an inference I muft look at the fame human 
 nature on another fide. 
 
 A purpofe of benevolence, perhaps, may have 
 
 T 
 
274 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 impelled me to vlfit a den wherein the victims of 
 our " civilization " are enduring all the mifery 
 which body and foul may be confcious of; and 
 where they are fubje6l to thofe worfe miferies 
 which they have ceafed to be confcious of. Sad 
 exhibition indeed ! and yet great principles main- 
 tain their fupremacy here as elfewhere, but under 
 new modifications. I fix the eye upon fome one 
 of the inmates of this den : — flefti and blood like 
 my own, and the rudiments of every fenfibility and 
 afFe6lion which I cherifh in my own nature are 
 there. And yet what would it be to be linked in 
 companionfhip with this being for a day ! What 
 but a martyrdom ! For he is as fenfual as a fwine, 
 as fierce as a wolf; he is knavifh, petulant, and 
 wayward, and utterly impatient of remonftrance, 
 entreaty, and rebuke ; he will have none of my 
 counfels, and he flings defiance at me if I infult 
 him with my pity. Yet why fketch this rude 
 outline ? Better afcend the filthy fteps of this 
 cellar, uttering fome apothegm of a frigid philo- 
 fophy — a text from a page of our " fociological 
 fcience " — and fay, as to this brother of mine, he 
 is indeed a pitiable obje6t ; but we fhould think of 
 him as the blamelefs vi6lim of our faulty inftitu- 
 tions, and of the unlucky phyfical conditions of his 
 place, beneath the wheel of the great machine : 
 it was his misfortune to inherit a depraved animal 
 conftitution, and every circumftance of his courfe 
 in life, from — the cradle ! — the babe never flum- 
 
WITHOUT CONTROFERSr, 275 
 
 bered in a cradle ! — from his mother's breaft ! — 
 that breaft was deftitute alike of milk and of fond- 
 nefs ! — every influence from the firft hour to this 
 hour, has been the worft poffible. How much 
 blame, then, can I think is this vidim's due ? 
 Boldly fay — none ! 
 
 But again I encounter this fame wretched being, 
 and this time it is abroad in the noify court, or 
 alley, that I find him. There is a brawl :■ — unpro- 
 voked, he is infli6ling grievous injuries upon one 
 who is not his match in ftrength : — it is a wanton 
 and purpofelefs cruelty, a mere outfpend of favage- 
 nefs, to no end. Sad is it to liften to the fcreams 
 of the fufFerer, trampled on and kicked in the 
 gutter. But at this fight my " focial fcience '* 
 maxims fnap in funder, and fail me quite ; for I 
 feel, and am ready to a6t too, at the impulfe of a 
 contrary belief. What ! — this monfter of cruelty, 
 is he not blameworthy P We fhall foon fhow him 
 that we think him to be fo. Away with him : he 
 deferves ten times more punifhment than the l^w 
 is able to inflict upon him. 
 
 Now if I am told that I am giving way to an 
 unreafonable impulfe of mere feeling, and that in- 
 ftead of aiding the law in its purpofe of inflicting 
 punifhment upon this wretch, I fhould be true to 
 my philofophy, and fhould ceafe to think of even 
 the worft outrages as crhnes : — then it comes to 
 this, that in the ftruClure of my mind there is an 
 inftincl of juftice fo powerful, fo irrefiftibly ftrong, 
 
276 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 and a forecafling of retribution fuch, as that, not 
 even the moft extreme imaginable inftance, in 
 which the defire of vengeance fhould give w^ay to 
 cold difguft, can avail to quafli, or to divert the 
 emotion. 
 
 Here, then, is an ungovernable impulfe, prompt- 
 ing m.e to inflid punifhment where, if all the cir- 
 cumftances be duly confidered, it might feem to be 
 only a new wrong to infli6i: any. This is a fa6l 
 in human nature which carries with it feveral 
 weighty inferences. To find thefe inferences I 
 muft carry home the cafe I have imagined, and 
 confider it as it may have a bearing upon my own 
 habits of thought, and my perfonal anticipations of 
 a future, and it may be, a final, retribution. 
 
 I find that this brutal wrong-doer, if I converfe 
 with him, has become, as one might fay, fo en- 
 cruiled with the hideous notions of a perverted 
 morality, as that any appeal I might make to his 
 confcience, or to his fenfe of juftice or humanity, 
 is turned afide : he mocks my ethics : — he has his 
 own code. Such, I may coolly fay, fuch are the 
 infatuations that fpring out of mifery and vice, 
 rendering any procefs of cure almofl hopelefs ! 
 But now may there not be infatuations of a filken 
 fort, which fpread themfelves around my own 
 egotiftic habits of feeling, and which have the 
 efFecSl of rendering me more or lefs unconfcious of 
 what it might greatly concern me to know and 
 think of? this is not improbable ; and if fo, then 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 277 
 
 it may alfo be true that — if all the conditions of 
 the two cafes were fully underftood, and if they 
 were fairly allowed for, the vehemence of the appe- 
 tite for retribution would loofen its grafp of its one 
 miferable obje£t, and fix its talons on another. 
 
 On rare occafions, when enormous crimes are 
 perpetrated, and when the innocent are barba- 
 roufly wronged, there is a loud outcry for ven- 
 geance. Human nature utters itfelf with paffion ; 
 but yet it is not a falfe utterance : it is a true, 
 though an impetuous vaticination. The thunder- 
 bolts of Heaven are called for, and Heaven, in 
 its own day, will anfwer the call. But now if 
 there is to be a future reckoning /« any cafe^ and 
 if any deeds are to be brought into court, that 
 reckoning, undoubtedly, will be univerfal ; it will 
 be impartial ; it will be unexceptive : — that inquiry 
 will leave nothing unfought for, nor will it ever 
 be baffled in its fearch. 
 
 It is impoffible that I can think otherwife than 
 thus of the future judicial proceedings of a central 
 and a Supreme Authority : the Righteoufnefs of 
 Heaven will be no refpe6ter of perfons. No procefs 
 of reafoning — no labours of the human mind, will 
 avail, or have ever availed hitherto, to difperfe the 
 heavy difquietudes that arife from the confciouf- 
 nefs of individual blameworthinefs, and the fore- 
 thought of a future reckoning. How idle, for 
 any fuch purpofes, are the dreams of the pantheift ! 
 The forebodings of an awakened confcience are 
 
278 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 not to be afTuaged by any devices fo fllmfy as 
 thefe. How then, if not fo ? In no other way 
 than by finding — if it may anywhere be found — an 
 authentic and a truftworthy Religion. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 BY methods of abfl:ra6t thought I may frame 
 for myfelf a Religion which fhall be theo- 
 retically coherent, and apparently probable ; but 
 then it ftands contradicted, on the right hand, and 
 on the left hand, by other theories or fchemes, 
 each more or lefs confident and reafonable, and 
 any one of which might well be accepted in its 
 ftead. At leaft fome one of thefe rival fyftems, 
 even though it may be of inferior quality, may 
 prevail over my better convidlions in a feafon of 
 intelledlual abatement, or of moral infirmity : in 
 an evil hour I may become enfnared by a fophiftry 
 which, in a brighter hour, I fhould reje6l with 
 contempt. It is at the urgent prompting of the 
 moral inflincts, and as driven forward by the fore- 
 bodings that attend thefe inftintSs, that I feek for 
 a religion ; and if it is to afluage the anxieties of 
 an enlightened confcience, the religion which I 
 am to accept fhould not ftand contradicted, or be 
 brought into queftion by any fort of evidence, or 
 any counter-teftimony which \% of the fame quality 
 
WITHOUT CONTROFERSr. 279 
 
 as that which fupports itfelf : as, for inftance, ab- 
 fl:ra6l reafoning, againft abftracl reafoning ; — or 
 human teftimony, apparently good, oppofed to 
 other human teftimony, apparently good. There 
 is only one religion, hitherto known in the world, 
 which occupies this pofition, and which I may 
 accept, and may rely upon as uncontradicted and 
 authentic, and truftworthy, after informing myfelf 
 fully and exadlly of its evidences. But how is It 
 that I can acquiefce in the religion of the Bible, 
 and receive it — o/xoXoyoufjLsvcog — as " confeiTedly" 
 true, fmce there are fo many who rejedl: it ? 
 
 It is thus — I am now making no diftIn6tion 
 between the Old Teftament and the New, as if 
 the latter might be accepted, although the former 
 were reje6ted. For if the older writings are not 
 the records of a continuous meflage from God to 
 man, then I decline to trouble myfelf with any 
 refearch concerning the merits or pretenfions of 
 the later writings. Whatever may be the diftinc- 
 tions which hereafter I may incline to infift upon 
 between the one and the other, juji now I make 
 no fuch diftin6tion ; but I take the Bible as a 
 whole, and I accept it as the record of a continuous 
 Divine Revelation, and I fo take it with a cordial 
 acquiefcence, and, after laborious inquiry, I hold it 
 to be true, in its own fenfe — o[MQXoyou[MEvu(; — " con- 
 fefTedly " fo — notwithftanding the contrary pro- 
 feffion of many, and of many educated men like 
 myfelf J and I do fo without hefitation, and without 
 
28o ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 arrogance ; and I fhould do fo, even if all were 
 agalnft me, or a thoufand to one, or ten thoufand 
 to one. 
 
 The reje6lion of the Holy Scriptures as true in 
 their own fenfe, namely, as being a dire6l meiTage 
 from God, may at this time be confidered as 
 arifmg from two fources ; for, firft, there are the 
 contradidtions of abftra6t philofophy ; and thefe, at 
 this time, are refolvable into the pantheiftic and 
 the atheiftic theories ; — the two, merging always 
 the one into the other ; for although thefe para- 
 doxes may feem to be exclufive, the one of the 
 other, the ground of diftin(?tion between them 
 fmks away whenever I attempt to fet foot upon it. 
 The two fchemes are at one on this point, that 
 they both treat the moral fenfe in human nature 
 as a delufion, and both of them deny the reality of 
 that fyftem of government — prefent and future, 
 from a belief in which the notions of virtue and 
 vice, of good and evil, and of individual refponfi- 
 bility and religious relationfliip to the Supreme 
 Being, take their rife. In relation, therefore, to 
 the religion of the Scriptures, pantheifm and athe- 
 ifm are not to be confidered as two fyftems, but 
 as one. 
 
 Knowing, as I do, that thefe theories of the uni- 
 verfe have befet the regions of Abftra6t Thought 
 in all times, and, in fail, that they haunt the human 
 intelleft, and that, at this prefent moment, they 
 avail to paralyze the religious con vi6f ions of many. 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 281 
 
 it would not be fafe on my part todifmlfs them, as 
 if in ignorance of their a6lual prefence, and of the 
 influence they exert ; for it might be faid to me — 
 If you had only acquainted yourfelf with the ?no- 
 dern form of thefe ancient philofophic fyftems, you 
 would have found that they are far more fubftan- 
 tial than you feem to imagine j and, in facSl, that 
 it is more eafy to contemn them blindly, than 
 fairly to refute them. 
 
 So thinking, I therefore inform myfelf concern- 
 ing both thefe do£trines, and I take care to know 
 the extent of their meaning; and my finding con- 
 cerning them is this : — firft, that they are para- 
 doxes of that kind, of which there are feveral, that 
 go in pairs, the one of them ferving as a place of 
 retreat when we are in confli6t with the abfurdi- 
 ties of the other. At fuch a time we look about 
 for any way of efcape. Thus, when I am beaten 
 off from atheifm, which is the denial of the Infi- 
 nite, and the One, I rufh into the arms of the 
 other, which is the denial of the finite \ and yet 
 when there, I find only a momentary breathing 
 time ; for I quickly feel that atheifm is in fa61: an 
 eafier, or more fomnific philofophy to live under 
 than pantheifm. Befides, this ofcillative antagonifm 
 between incompatible paradoxes is only a fample of 
 feveral which are known of old, to breed inveterate 
 difcords in the houfe of abftrad fpeculation. It is 
 thus that I may be bandied about between idealifm 
 and materialifm ; — between a world without fub- 
 
282 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 fiance, and a world that is all folid. If the ab- 
 ftra6tive faculty miftakes its function in the intellec- 
 tual economy, then an eternal jar is the only confe- 
 quence ; — and better were it to lodge out of doors, 
 among the herd, than to be inmate in a manfion 
 where hufband and wife are wrangling, and ftriv- 
 ing for the maftery, every day, all the year round. 
 But this is not the whole of the reafon why, 
 after due inquiry, I fhould turn away the ear, for 
 ever, from the contradictions of thefe abftrufe fpe- 
 culations. They do not touch, or in any way 
 afFeCl, the matter in hand. I am in fearch of a 
 religion at the impulfe (mainly) of my inftin6live 
 belief of the reality of the moral fyftem of which 
 I am a member. Now this belief in confcience 
 is not an opinion which I may continue to profefs, 
 or may ceafe to profefs, in confequence of the 
 reading of a book, or the hearing of a courfe of 
 lectures. It is a permanent element of human na- 
 ture : — it is common to mankind in all times and 
 countries. This inftin61: flufhes the cheek of every 
 fenfitive child, and it prevails over the laborious 
 fophiftications of the philofopher. This belief is 
 cherifhed as an ineftimable jewel by the bell: and 
 the pureft of human beings ; — and it is bowed to, 
 in difmay, by the fouleft and the worft : — its rudi- 
 ments are a monition of eternal truth, whifpered 
 in the ear of infancy : — its articulate announce- 
 ments are a dread foredoom ring-ino- in the ears of 
 the guilty adult. You fay you can bring forward 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr, 283 
 
 a hundred educated men, who, at this time, will 
 profefs themfelves to be no believers in a moral 
 fyftem ; but I will rebut their teftimony by the 
 fpontaneous and accordant voices of as many mil- 
 lions of men as you may pleafe to call for, on the 
 other fide. 
 
 Therefore, as it concerns the liberty I feel my- 
 felf pofTeiTed of, for accepting the religion of the 
 Scriptures, notwithflanding the contradi6tions of 
 pantheifts and atheifts, the ftate of the queftion is 
 this : — pantheifm and atheifm cannot both be true, 
 but they may both be falfe ; and the refidual pro- 
 bability of the truth of the one over the other is, 
 at the mofl:, quite an inappreciable quantity, when 
 it is brought to weigh againfl: a univerfal inftin(5t 
 of nature — a prime element of the human ftruc- 
 ture — an impulfe, and an involuntary perfuafion 
 which, if indeed it might be wholly deadened 
 within us, would leave man on a level with the 
 brute, and men incapable of any focial form of 
 exiftence. 
 
 But in the fecond place, the Scriptures, Jewifh 
 and Chriftian, are denied to be, in any fpecial 
 fenfe, a revelation, or meffage from God, by thofe 
 who aflail the proper evidences fupporting their 
 claims as fuch. This kind of contradidtion I at 
 once admit to be pertinent to the queftion in hand, 
 and, therefore, to be deaf to it would be not merely 
 highly unfafe, but unreafonable. 
 
 if in this EfTay I were undertaking the defence 
 
284 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 of my Biblical faith, as againft all comers, it might 
 be required of me to bring into view, in order, 
 and to refute, feriathn^ the feveral counter-pleas 
 which, in thefe times, have been urged as the 
 grounds of their non-belief by notable writers. 
 Inftead of attempting any fuch operofe tafk as this, 
 I am attempting nothing more than a fetting forth, 
 for my individual fatisfa6lion, the grounds on 
 which I receive and bow to the canonical writings, 
 and accept the profound myfteries they may con- 
 tain, as — oixoXoyouiMzvu)i; — a meflage and a law, fent 
 to me from heaven. 
 
 Now with this view, I may at once releafe my- 
 felf from the imagined obligation to examine with 
 care and labour thofe fchemes of anti-Chriftian 
 opinion which the authors of them have aban- 
 doned as impracticable and nugatory, or which 
 their fucceflors, labouring on the fame field, and 
 animated by the fame zeal, have treated with con- 
 tempt, or which they ceafe to bring forward. On 
 this fafe ground, therefore (after knowing what 
 thefe caft-off arguments are) I difmifs the entire 
 mafs of anti-Chriftian ribaldry and impertinence 
 which fatisfied the recklefs Impiety of Europe 
 during the times of Voltaire and RouiTeau. In 
 like manner, and with a confcioufnefs of fecurity, 
 I ceafe to concern myfelf henceforth, any more, 
 with that fcheme which, in Germany, for a length 
 of time, was accepted as a fufficient explication of 
 the hiftorical enigma concerning the origin of the 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr, 285 
 
 evangelic memoirs ; the flory being admitted as 
 mainly true, and the writers honeft ; — but the 
 fupernatural portions were alleged to be mifcon- 
 ceptions on the part of thefe rude and uninftruded 
 perfons. This theory has long ago given way to 
 a more ftrid: critical method : — it is abandoned, 
 and in its place there has come up — to be won- 
 dered at for a moment — a theory of the Gofpel 
 hiftory, boldly conceived and elaborately fet forth, 
 but which, under the weight of its own marvellous 
 improbability, has filently gone down : — the my- 
 thic " Life of Jefus " — is a fcheme which I can 
 never make to confift with fa6ls that are as certain 
 in my view, as are the events of my own life, laft 
 year. This mythic theory is a mafs of incohe- 
 rences ; it has however been ferviceable in purg- 
 ing the atmofphere of the effluvia of the decayed 
 fchemes of the preceding time. 
 
 Moreover, the prodigious painftaking, and the 
 ingenuity, and the tempered virulence of this laft 
 attempt to rid the world of Chriftianity, have given 
 evidence of the extreme difficulty of the tafk which 
 thofe undertake who, on the ground of hiftoric 
 criticifm, labour to difengage what is, in their view, 
 credible in the Gofpel hiftory, from that which 
 they are predetermined to reje6l as incredible. The 
 human mind, advantaged by all imaginable aids of 
 learning, has exhaufted its forces in the endeavour 
 to rend the fupernatural from off its attachments 
 to this hiftory. 
 
286 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 The ftate of the cafe, then, is this: — modern 
 criticifm, hiftoric and literary, leaves me in undif- 
 puted pofTeflion of the books (with two or three 
 exceptions) that are included in the Canon — the 
 Bible, as I have it. There is not, fo far as I know, 
 at this time afloat, any accepted and available anti- 
 Chriftian folution of the enigma regarding the ori- 
 gin of Chriftianity : non-belief, at this moment, has 
 come to a ftand-itill ; for it has no frefh folution of 
 this enigma in readinefs. Then there is this figni- 
 ficant indication of the relative merits of the anti- 
 Chriftian argument, namely, this — That every 
 recent writer (of any mark or note) who has fig- 
 nalized himfelf on that fide, and who has fet out 
 with a profefled willingnefs to admit as much of 
 Chriftianity as he can, has receded further and fur- 
 ther from his firft pofition : — he is feen labouring 
 to afcend a flippery incline, but at every ftep he 
 Aides back, and it is not long before he comes to 
 a breathing place — on the dead levels of material 
 atheifm, where alone a man may believe that he 
 has no further to go. 
 
 For myfelf, inftead of finding the fupernatural 
 element in the Biblical writings a difficulty, I 
 fhould be met by a difficulty moft perplexing, if I 
 were required to receive the religion which I am 
 in need of, apart from any fupernatural fealing of 
 the documents containing it, and deftitute of an 
 authentic fignature. Such a fealing, or (might I 
 ufe the word) fuch an endorfement, would be 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 287 
 
 needed even if the revelation related to nothing 
 higher than mundane opinions, or every-day rules 
 of conduct ; for I muft poflefs the means of dif- 
 tinguifhing thefe enactments from other opinions 
 and rules — like to them, but not the fame. 
 
 When, however, I find that the principal fub- 
 jecSl of this written or documentary revelation 
 tranfcends, immeafurably far, the range of human 
 thought, and that it carries me in meditation 
 vv^ithin the circle of an economy of which I have 
 no knowledge by any other means, then, and in 
 that cafe, I not merely expe6t, and defire, and need 
 alfo, a fure and ample atteftation of it from on 
 high ; but this atteftation, of whatever fort it may 
 be, ftands forward as a part and a fample of that 
 which is fo attefted. I mean to fay that thofe 
 vifible a6ls of power which indicate the Divine 
 Prefence, are always lefs than the mefTage itfelf ; 
 and in hearing and accepting the meflage, I have 
 already given in my aflent to the attendant miracle. 
 
 It depends entirely upon the pofition which I 
 take whether miracles, fuch as thofe of the Gofpel 
 hiftory, fhall ftand before me as matters not to be 
 fubmitted to, if by any means I may evade the 
 difagreeable neceflity of doing fo ; or, as congruous 
 accompaniments of a difpenfation which is to con- 
 nect this prefent world with another — a vv^orld in 
 which what here I call miracle, is there order. 
 
 It is, therefore, without repugnance that I 
 admit the fupernatural element of the religion 
 
288 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 which I welcome as the gift of Heaven. But 
 now — the atteftation admitted — what is it to which 
 it fhould be held to attach ? What is it to which 
 the Divine fignature is indeed appended ? This 
 is a queftion which at all times claims an anfwer, 
 and which efpecially demands an anfwer at this 
 prefent moment. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 IN accepting the Scriptures of the Old and 
 New Teftaments, as conveying a Divine Re- 
 velation, and as entitled to a deference which I 
 yield to no other writings, ancient or modern, I 
 am confronted by a queftion to which fome fort 
 of anfwer muft be given. Is it everything which 
 I find enclofed between the two boards of my 
 Bible, that I receive and bow to, as fent to me 
 from Heaven, and as fan6lioned by fupernatural 
 atteftations ? 
 
 Controverfy is rife on this point ; and I find 
 honeft and well-informed men giving difcordant 
 replies to the queftion ; and thefe replies are uttered 
 often with an eagernefs, and even an afperity, 
 which is ufual in religious controverfies when, on 
 both fides, there is a confcioufnefs of fome incom- 
 pletenefs or incoherence in the folution that is 
 given of the problem in debate. With the one 
 
WITHOVT CONTROVERSY, 289 
 
 purpofe in view, which has been profefTed in this 
 Effay, it would feem that I ftiould hold off from 
 ground whereupon fo many combatants are in con- 
 flift. Neverthelefs, as I think, there is a ftanding 
 room even here, whereupon a belief may be made 
 to reft — " controverfy apart." 
 
 The difcuffion which is ftill open and undeter- 
 mined on the fubjeft of the " Infpiration of Holy 
 Scripture," is the inevitable, as it is the proper 
 confequence, yzr/?, of the greatly advanced ftate of 
 the art of criticifm, and pre-eminently, of Biblical 
 criticifm. The afliduity, the intelligence, the im- 
 proved methods, and the enlarged means, which 
 give to this fcience or art its prefent high condi- 
 tion of effe6i:ivenefs, and of certainty, have drawn 
 thoughtful and well-informed men forward infen- 
 fibly to take their ftand upon an arena, whence 
 fome of them, as it feems, would gladly find a way 
 of retreat; but this cannot be. 
 
 This controverfy, in tho, fecond place^ is a refult, 
 in a general way, of that tendency toward iy^t- 
 matic completenefs, or, as one might call li^forenfic 
 determination^ which is a prominent chara6i:eriftic 
 of thefe times. We hear this utterance on all 
 fides — " You fay you believe this and that con- 
 cerning the Canonical writings ; tell us, then, pre- 
 cifely what it is that you intend, and what it is that 
 you believe ; and why you believe it." Nothing 
 elfe ought to be looked for, in thefe times, than 
 the putting of a queftion of this fort to thofe who 
 u 
 
290 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 profefs aloud their fubmiflion to the fole and fu- 
 preme authority of thefe writings. 
 
 But there is another, and a lefs oftenfible moving 
 force to which this prefent controverfy owes much 
 of its depth and meaning. ReHgious thought has 
 made a marked advance in thefe times. Religious 
 fervour — declining, has, at each retreating ftep, 
 meafured the fpace through which religious y^«/?- 
 tivenefs has moved forward ; and at this moment 
 we are driven at once to wifh that our perfonal de- 
 votion was more cordial than it is, and our relative 
 fympathies much lefs alive, than they are; or fuch as 
 they were in years paft. This progrefs — znd progrefs 
 it isy could not have any other refult than to give 
 point, or let me fay, poignancy to many queftions, 
 that occur in the courfe of Biblical expofition. A 
 ftyle of apologetic commentary which the readers of 
 Matthew Henry, and of Thomas Scott alfo, were 
 content with, does not fatisfy the nicer feelings of 
 the religious community at this time. From this 
 difcontent, whether it be articulate, or ftifled, there 
 arife endlefs difcuflions — queftionings that are 
 never brought to an iffue, concerning the extent 
 and the conditions of that infpiration of Scripture 
 which, in general terms, we all acknowledge. 
 
 An ill confequence of this prefent undetermined 
 ftate of our belief concerning " infpiration " is, a 
 habit it gives rife to, on the part of the authorized 
 expofitors of Scripture, namely, that of quafhing 
 intelligent inquiry, as the iymptom of " an unre- 
 
WITHOUT CONTROFERSr. 291 
 
 newed nature;" or of evading it, by means of 
 explanations which are fatisfadtory neither to the 
 fpeaker himfelf, nor to his hearers. 
 
 What can be done to bring things into a more 
 aufpicious pofition ? I will not prefume to anfwer 
 this queftion ; but, inftead of doing fo, fet forth 
 what to myfelf is folid ground of belief — "contro- 
 verfy apart," 
 
 As well rid the queftion, at this point, of fuch 
 things as admit of no queftion, or of none among 
 honeft and well-informed men. It is certain that 
 Biblical criticifm muft purfue its courfe, and muft 
 ply its tools in its own manner, hereafter, as in the 
 time pafled. It muft do fo freely and manfully, 
 and it muft be exempt from that intimidation with 
 which fome mindlefs and fuperftitious men are 
 fain to arreft its further progrefs. The ftipulation 
 which we infift upon, in giving this free fcope to 
 erudite criticifm, is only this — that it ftiall be inge- 
 nuous, not petulant or captious ; that it ftiall be 
 ferious in a religious fenfe, and not animated by a 
 covert defire to make out a cafe againft the Bible, 
 and for the vexation of the religious common- 
 wealth. 
 
 Criticifm employs itfelf in making fure the gen- 
 ulnenefs of books — in reftoring the text of fuch 
 books, fo far as the means of doing fo fafely, are in 
 our hands. Within the province alfo of criticifm, 
 or of its cognate expofitory methods, it comes to 
 inquire concerning the canonicity of books fingly 
 
292 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 confidered, and thus to draw a line that fhall be 
 exclufive of all writings in behalf of which no 
 claim can be made good, of their dire6l connec- 
 tion with the fupernatural atteftation that gives 
 authority to the books included in the canon. 
 
 But it is not v/ithin the province of criticifm to 
 fit in judgment upon portions of canonical Scrip- 
 ture, on the plea that fuch portions contain what 
 we do not find it eafy or poffible to reconcile to 
 our notions, either of the Divine Attributes, or of 
 the abftra6l fitnefs of things. Rationalifm, in the 
 modern fenfe of the phrafe, is the doing this. The 
 rationalift provides himfelf with a theology to his 
 liking, before he opens his Bible, and to this the- 
 ology of his own, all things which he may find 
 there muft give way. From any fuch boldnefs as 
 this I am held back, firfi^ by the confcioufnefs of 
 the limited range of the human mind, univerfally, 
 as related to the fubjeds of religious thought ; and 
 then by my individual confcioufnefs, and expe- 
 rience alfo, of infirmity of judgment, and more- 
 over, by a recollection of thofe diftortions of the 
 intelleft which have had their rife in the moral 
 fentiments, and which may be far greater than I 
 am diftin6lly aware of. 
 
 On thefe grounds, therefore, and for other rea- 
 fons of a fimilar kind, I rejedi: rationalifm ; yet in 
 doing fo, I do not abrogate reafon — reafon in its 
 freeft exercife, I take with me ; but it is reafon in 
 I'ljhning and learning — it is not reafon in dilating. 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 293 
 
 On the other hand, in the daily opening of my 
 Bible, I put far from me that faulty practice which, 
 while it profefles itfelf to be the antagonift of 
 rationalifm, is, in fadt, nothing better than another 
 phafe of the fame arrogance, and the fame pre- 
 fumption. What I mean is the technical dogma- 
 tifm which infifts that the teaching of Scripture 
 (hall, in every cafe, fhow itfelf to be — part with 
 part — in accordance with a predetermined fcheme 
 of do6lrinal fynthefis. The dogmatift is indeed 
 willing to bow his reafon to the authority of Scrip- 
 ture ; but he will not fubmit his fcheme of inter- 
 pretation to that authority: for this fcheme, though 
 he will not allow it, is dearer to him than truth : — 
 his logic is his idol. 
 
 In feeking for truth, and in feeking for it in my 
 Bible, and in labouring to poffefs myfelf of fo 
 much of this ineftimable good as my individual 
 infirmity, and the narrow limits of my fpirit may 
 be capable of, and in defiring a peaceful and un- 
 controverted holding- of this truth, I have to look 
 out for a principle, or practical rule, that fliall 
 meet the conditions under which religious truth 
 offers itfelf to me in a written revelation — a mef- 
 fage from Heaven, which has been configned to a 
 colle6lion of books. 
 
 At the outfet, when I give place, even in the 
 moft trivial fmgle inftance, to criticifm, and when 
 I alk aid from thofe who are accomplifhed in this 
 line, and when I accept from them any proper cor- 
 
294 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 re£lion of the document — for example, the emen- 
 dation of a paiTage that has, in whatever manner, 
 become faulty — when I do this, I acknowledge 
 that the Bible in my hand is not an audible utter- 
 ance of fyllables and words, from the fkies. But 
 then this admiffion includes, by neceflity, another 
 admiffion, namely, this — that the Divine imparta- 
 tion of religious truth has become commingled 
 with the human impartation of it ; — or fuch a con- 
 veyance of it as is liable to the ordinary conditions, 
 or, as we may fay, to the accidents that attach to 
 all things mundane — namely, accidents of the 
 hand, of the eye, of the ear, of the memory ; as 
 well as what depends on habits of verbal exa6l- 
 nefs, and on the technical habitudes of individual 
 human minds. 
 
 A confcioufnefs of this intimate combination 
 of what is human, with that which is Divine, in 
 the canonical Scriptures, has given rife to many 
 imaginary perplexities ; and thefe have fuggefted 
 various " Theories of Infpiration," fuch as might 
 ferve, either to remove the difficulty a little further 
 off, or to conceal the extent of it from our troubled 
 fight. Thefe palliative fchemes have been founded 
 upon the fuppofition that there are feveral fpecies, 
 or feveral degrees of infpiration ; — as, for inftance, 
 that of an indefinite control — that of the fuggef- 
 tion of thoughts merely, and that of the fuggeftion 
 of the very words. But no fuch diftin6lions as 
 thefe, nor any others which a taxed ingenuity may 
 
WITHOUT CONTROFERSr. 295 
 
 devife, yield me the aid which they promife. For, 
 in the firft place, I find no indication of them in 
 the books themfelves : — there is no precautionary 
 notice to this effedl, fuch as I find on the margin 
 of fome patriftic volumes, Caute lege. Thefe mo- 
 dern devices are arbitrary, and they are not fufcep- 
 tible of proof. Whether any fuch diftin(3:ions are 
 true, in fad, or not, I can never know. 
 
 But in the fecond place, even if I believed thefe 
 diftin6tions to be well-founded, and they may be 
 real — it would remain for me to apply them to 
 the books, feverally, or to particular chapters, or 
 to paragraphs, or to fingle verfes, at my difcretion ; 
 and while fo employed, what would take place is 
 obvious : — The fcheme itfelf, or this hypothefis of 
 a differential infpiration, is, as I may fay, a remedy 
 to be employed according to the urgency of the 
 cafe : — it is an anodyne, to be ufed by the patient, 
 pro re natd ; and in the ufe of this, as of every 
 kind of alleviation, I fliall infenfibly go on from a 
 rare, to a frequent recurrence to the dangerous 
 preparation. I fhall be tempted intemperately to 
 avail myfelf of the faving hypothefis, until at length 
 my Bible has become, like the Bible of the ra- 
 tionalift, a book of leifurely reference, but a book 
 of no authority ; and therefore, it will ceafe to 
 yield me what I am in fearch of — a religion in 
 which I may find reji. 
 
 There is a path before me that is lefs embar- 
 raflTed than this, and much lefs perilous too. I 
 
296 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 put far from me the arrogance of the dogmatlft 
 who, " wife beyond and above what is written," 
 has fixed the limits beyond which the Divike 
 Nature — the Infinite, may not ftoop in its 
 correfpondence with the finite nature. That this 
 condefcenfion may go far, is a fa6l that is made 
 confpicuous in the very conditions of a written 
 revelation ; and this fa6l I fully recognize in allow- 
 ing criticifm, in its own way, to do its office. But 
 I recognize this fa6l or principle to a further ex- 
 tent, when I allow hiftorical criticifm at all to 
 difcufs or confider queftions concerning quotations 
 of the ancient Scriptures in the Chriftian Scrip- 
 tures ; or concerning the exa6lnefs of any fingle 
 hiftorical ftatement. 
 
 To thefe extents modern Biblical criticifm is 
 allowed to go, without rebuke ; or without rebuke 
 from reafonable and inftrufted men. But where 
 are we to ftop ? Should hiftorical criticifm alfo 
 be left to take its courfe without prohibition ? Or 
 fhould any liberty at all be granted to logical cri- 
 ticifm ? 
 
 I find that if I were to go about to frame an 
 anfwer to thefe queftions, this anfwer muft be 
 made to reft upon the above-mentioned dogmatic 
 ground of my prefuming to know the limits which 
 the Divine Wifdom muft prefcribe for itfelf in 
 holding communion with man. I tremble to think 
 of attempting to define thefe limits, or to make any 
 fuch conditions ; I define nothing, I infift upon 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr, 297 
 
 no terms, I plant no hedge of my own around the 
 Almighty ; and therefore I am not careful to give 
 any reply to the above-named queftions. 
 
 But if not, then do I not fet wide open the 
 door of rationalifm ? — nay — I clofe it faft, and for 
 ever. What I infift upon is a firm, and a tho- 
 roughly rational hold of the proper hiftoric evi- 
 dence attefting the fupernatural element of the 
 revelation which is conveyed in the canonical 
 writings. So far as I have feen, it is the want of 
 any fuch peremptory convi6tion, and of this clear- 
 headed and firm-handed grafp of the fads of the 
 Bible hiflory — it is a confufed, and a wavering, 
 and an ill-digefled belief in the reality of that 
 hiflory, whence come the pious alarms, and the 
 jealoufies, and the petulant outcries of unthinking 
 religious perfons, who denounce as a heretic every 
 man who knows more than they know, and dares 
 to fay it. 
 
 Let criticifm upon Holy Scripture make " full 
 proof of its miniftry :" — let it do its office without 
 fear or intimidation : criticifm, literary, hiftoric, 
 and logical (if there be room for this). If criti- 
 cifm becomes captious, irreverent, finifter in its 
 aims ; if it fhows itfelf to be irreligious at heart, 
 then I ceafe to liflen to it. But fo long as it is 
 right-minded, and ingenuous, and is regardful of 
 our firft principle — that we have in hand a fuper- 
 natural revelation — fo long as criticifm is thus 
 minded, I welcome its advances : — it can do me 
 
298 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 no poffible harm : — it may render me ineftimable 
 fervices ; and while it walks by my fide, I have 
 no tremours, as if phantoms were at hand. 
 
 I read my Bible by the lamp of criticifm as 
 often as I may think it ufeful to do fo. But I 
 read my Bible daily, in the clear daylight of its 
 own effulgence. Shall I afk for a rule, for a for- 
 mula, like thofe of a fchool-book, according to 
 which I am to difcern between the Divine and 
 the human in Holy Scripture ? Idle pedantry 
 were this, and how fuperfluous ! I need no rule, 
 when I walk forth, under the fplendour of noon, 
 and gaze upon the vifible manifeftations of the 
 wifdom and goodnefs of the Creator. I fall into 
 no errors in fetting off the works of man, which 
 mix themfelves with the works of God, in this 
 profpe6l. I know thefe at a glance, by their fami- 
 liar chara6leriftics. I pafs my judgment upon 
 them freely : — meantime that which indeed is Di- 
 vine in the obje6ls around me has its own inimi- 
 table afpecSl — its own indubitable characSteriftics — 
 the things of God fpeak aloud their authorfhip : I 
 am troubled by no perplexities. I afk not the help 
 of the interpreter to make me fure that the works 
 of God are indeed — the works of God. 
 
 If this be metaphor, it is more than metaphor, 
 for the inftances, although they are two in form, 
 are identical in fubftance. You may demand in 
 the one cafe, or in the other, a fharply defined 
 difcriminative teft, by application of which I may 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 299 
 
 preclude all chance of miftake, nor ever incur the 
 rifk of attributing to God, that which belongs to 
 man — or the contrary. All fuch alarms are unne- 
 ceiTary : — a daily and devout perufal of Holy Scrip- 
 ture brings with it its own difcriminative faculty — 
 a perception, or I might call it, a taSf^ a tafte, and 
 a fenfe of congruity which will feldom lead an 
 intelligent Chriftian man aftray. Or fuch errors 
 as he may fall into will not, in any appreciable 
 degree, afFe6l the large refult of his confcioufnefs 
 of religious truth. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 AT the inftigation of the moral fenfe, and 
 upon the demand of emotions that are in- 
 ftin(Slive and univerfal, and at the prompting of 
 forebodings which philofophy can neither difperfe 
 nor fatisfy, I have come to feek for an authenti- 
 cated religion — a religion counterfigned in Hea- 
 ven. I have found it in the Scriptures of the Old 
 and New Teftaments. And it is not only that I 
 am willing to receive my religious beliefs from the 
 Bible, for I ought to fay that — after an induftrious 
 inquiry concerning this atteftation, the liberty to 
 hold myfelf loofe from it, is gone ! It is a necef- 
 fity of a fully inftrufted reafon that binds this be- 
 lief upon me. It would be a lefs corre61: expreflion 
 
300 ESSATS, ETC, 
 
 to fay — after due inquiry, I confent to retain my 
 faith in Holy Scripture ; for the ftri6l ftatement of 
 the cafe is this — after inquiry, renewed often and 
 at different epochs of life, and after liftening to 
 many pleadings on the other fide — after this, it is 
 not that I hold the Bible ; it is the Bible that holds 
 me. Any other flatement of the cafe, or any 
 foftening of it, to fave my pride, is — a delufion. 
 
 Of what fort, then, is the reply which I gather 
 from my Bible to what muft be my foremoft quef- 
 tion, as it is my chief anxiety ? How is it as to the 
 reality of the moral fyflem ? How is it as to the 
 truth of the univerfal inflin6ls of mankind con- 
 cerning good and evil, praife and blame, reward 
 and punifhment ? How is it concerning my prof- 
 pe(St of well-being or of ruin in a future life ? 
 Thefe queflions, or any others virtually contained 
 in thefe, are foon anfwered. 
 
 Holy Scripture, from its firft pages to its lafl, 
 is a fpreading forth of the rudiments of the moral 
 economy. The reality, and the unalterable per- 
 manence, and the inexorable force of whatfoever 
 has a moral meaning — this is the import of all 
 things therein contained, whether it be hiflory, or 
 formal teaching. Whatever I read in dire6t pro- 
 portions, and whatever I gather by inference, has 
 this fame meaning. And there is a confecutive 
 accordance of innumerable affirmations of the fame 
 truth. 
 
 Book after book, page after page, verfe after 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 301 
 
 verfe, aflumes as certain the reality of whatever is 
 of a moral quality. Ordinarily this is aflumed, 
 and on a few occafions it is declared in form -, but 
 never is it argued as if it were queftionable, or as 
 if it had ever been queftioned : never is it excufed; 
 never is an apology offered in behalf of what it 
 may imply. Nowhere do I find any covert indi- 
 cations given me of a path of abftra6t thought in 
 following which I may — if by conftitution of mind 
 I need it — work out the problems of the moral 
 univerfe for myfelf. 
 
 Inftead of this, I am met at the outfet by the 
 fa6l that, the one oriental family, to which, at the 
 firft, were " committed the oracles of God," was, 
 throughout the period of its national religious ex- 
 iftence, confcious only of the concrete forms of 
 thought, and was wholly unconfcious of its ab- 
 ftracSl or philofophic forms. This " election " 
 doubtlefs had its pfychological fignificance ; and 
 when I look into Philo I fee a curious inftance 
 of that torturing of the national intellect which 
 could not but take place when the Jew afpired to 
 think and write as the Greek. 
 
 Throughout the Scriptures the First Truth 
 in theology is conveyed in terms of the moral fyjiem ; 
 and very rarely in any other terms ; nor ever 
 in thofe of abftra6l thought. It might have been 
 allowable, forty years ago, on the part of hopeful 
 intelledualifts, to imagine that a fcientific theology 
 would, at length, be educed, and fet forth in pro- 
 
302 ESSJrS, ETC, 
 
 pofitions of a purely theoretic order. But no one 
 can now entertain this hope who has followed the 
 courfe of what is called metaphyfics, throughout 
 that period, and up to this prefent time. The refult 
 of the earneft endeavours of the choiceft minds of 
 Germany, France, and England, is this — to de- 
 monfl:rate the facSl that a religious revelation of the 
 Infinite and Absolute Being is not pofTible 
 in any other mode than that which is employed 
 by the infpired writers — the earlier of them, and 
 the later. 
 
 And not only have thefe writers given to the 
 world the only poffible revelation of the Divine 
 Nature, but they have, at their firft eflay, reached 
 the higheft poffible expreffion of it. That it is fo 
 there is at hand a very fignificant proof. Vaft — 
 prodigioufly voluminous, is that amount of com- 
 mentative labour of which the Jewifh and Chrif- 
 tian Scriptures have been the text. In attempting 
 to compafs, in thought, this body of expofitory 
 induftry — evoked in the courfe of more than two 
 thoufand years — the mind is quite overwhelmed 
 and lofl:. That portion of this perennial toil 
 which may now be extant upon our fhelves, is 
 nothing more than a fragmentary fample of the 
 entire mafs ; for befides this fpecimen, treafured 
 in books, extant^ there is the greater mafs, once 
 configned to books, but long fmce gone down to 
 the abyfs. Yet even if all were now before us 
 which the pen had for a while conferved, we 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr, 303 
 
 fhould need to add the far larger quantity — and 
 much of it not lefs worthy of prefervation, which 
 has uttered itfelf within halls and churches, from 
 week to week, throughout this great extent of 
 time, but which has not outlived its own echoes. 
 Thus has the human mind exhaufted itfelf in the 
 ever-to-be-renewed labour of fpreading out to view 
 the utmoft meaning of Scripture — Scripture as the 
 expreffion of what man may know, or conceive 
 of, concerning God. 
 
 What, then, is the upfhot ? Has the original 
 revelation become an obfolete rudiment, giving 
 place to what all muft now accept as an improved 
 expreffion of the fame elementary principles ? No- 
 thing of this fort has taken place ; but inftead of 
 it, there has been, from time to time, an emphatic 
 return to the purely Biblical expreffion of the 
 higheft truths, after each ephemeral enterprife, to 
 give to thefe truths what was thought to be a 
 more exalted, or a more refined expreffion of them, 
 has had its feafon. If it were not befide my pur- 
 pofe, I fhould find it eafy to bring forward as 
 many as feven diftin^lly-marked and well-recorded 
 endeavours of this fort, which have flared up for 
 a while, and prefently have gone out : and now, 
 at this time, the decifive tendency of the beft- 
 trained minds is to return, with a zeft, as if im- 
 pelled equally by religious feeling, and by correct 
 and cultured tafte — to what ? — to the Biblical ex- 
 preffion of the higheft truths in theology. 
 
304 ESSAYS, ETC, 
 
 It muft not be pretended that this adhefion of 
 all minds to the Bible, and to its ftyle, is the mere 
 confequence of an opinion of its facrednefs and 
 authority. It is not fo. Nothing is more certain 
 in human affairs than this, that a better, or a more 
 fully-developed form of what is fubftantially true, 
 difplaces, or fuperfedes, the more ancient or crude 
 form of the fame truths. In the long run, that 
 which is antiquated and imperfect gives place to 
 that upon which the men of a later time have 
 laboured to good purpofe. Tried by the teft 
 which this fa6f fupplies, I return to my propor- 
 tion — That the Bible writers have given to the 
 world, not merely the only poffible revelation of 
 the Divine Nature, but have given us this reve- 
 lation in its mofl: mature form, and in that condi- 
 tion which we muft continue to receive ; or if 
 not, muft reje6t, not only revelation altogether, 
 but theology alfo. 
 
 So much of the knowledge of God as I may be 
 capable of admitting, I therefore look for in my 
 Bible ; and I ceafe to look for it from any other 
 quarter — I mean from any conceivable future 
 achievements of the human mind. The Scrip- 
 tures thus accepted, become to me the fource of 
 religious truths, or, as we fay, do61:rines and pre- 
 ceptive principles of all kinds. Thefe principles 
 and do6lrines I am compelled to think and fpeak 
 oi diftrihutively^ or according to an artificial order 
 or method ; yet while doing fo, I well underftand 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr, 305 
 
 that do6trInes and precepts, the feveral articles of 
 a creed, and the feveral rules of condu6l, are not 
 many items, but one Divine element, diverfely 
 uttered, to fuit the limitations of reafon, and the 
 changing occafions of life. 
 
 Thus, by necejjity^ we think of the Divine At- 
 tributes, and, in doing fo, ftumble upon perplex- 
 ities which, though they are unreal, are not to be 
 evaded. Juft at this point a knowledge of abftra6l 
 fcience, or intelle6lual philofophy, may be fervice- 
 able ; for it may enable me to fet myfelf clear of 
 each fpecial perplexity^ by finding that it refolves 
 itfelf into the one mafter problem of the relation 
 of the finite to the Infinite. If the problem 
 which ftands foremoll: in philofophic thought were 
 folved, none of the included problems would 
 thenceforward give us any trouble : thus, there- 
 fore, I may remove from the roadway of the reli- 
 gious life difficulties which belong to another path, 
 namely, the path of ultimate abftradtions. 
 
 On this ground, therefore, I accept from Scrip- 
 ture what I firfl need, while in fearch of a place 
 of reft ; — namely, a confirmation of the inflincSive 
 belief in the reality of the moral fyflem, and of 
 my relationfhip thereto, and of whatever confe- 
 quences, however formidable, which this relation- 
 fhip may bring with it. Thus far it is not reji ; 
 but difquiet that attends me. 
 
3o6 ESSJrS, ETC. 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 LET it be that criticifm has taken its courfe 
 upon the text of Scripture without reftric- 
 tion, and free from intimidation ; but in the exer- 
 cife of this liberty it muft not arrogate what can 
 never belong to it, nor afTume a right to ftand 
 between me and the produ6l of my Bible-reading 
 at large. There muft be — a definite refult, thence 
 to be derived :-^there muft be a main intention 
 in the Scriptures : — along with many things that 
 are incidental, there muft be that which is prin- 
 cipal, that which is of the higheft moment — that 
 for the fake of which, and to teach it, the Bible 
 has been given me ; and which I ftiall not fail to 
 find there, unlefs by grievous fault or negligence, 
 on my own part. 
 
 At this point I wifti, beyond miftake, to feel 
 that I have a fure path. If the various writings 
 making up the Biblical Canon were mifcellaneous 
 fummaries of religious fentiment, and of didactic 
 ethics — then, and in that cafe, they would not 
 have needed the atteftation of miracles : the fuper- 
 natural accompaniment would have encumbered, 
 more than it could recommend, fuch a revelation. 
 But I do find this accompaniment, and therefore 
 I look for that which muft need it, and which I 
 could not accept with an aflured belief of its 
 Divine reality, unlefs it were fo attefted. 
 
WITHOUT CONTROFERSr. 307 
 
 In feeking, then, for that which I may receive as 
 indeed the principal intention of Scripture, and as 
 the final caufe of its miraculous accompaniment, I 
 take for my guidance two rules, the firft of which 
 is this — That as this revelation offers itfelf to me 
 as a good — a boon — a conveyance of ineftimable 
 benefits — a gratuity, not merited or claimable by 
 me, it muft undoubtedly have been given in all 
 fincerity ; and it muft fuppofe a correfpondent in- 
 genuoufnefs and uprightnefs on my part, who am 
 to be the recipient of fo free a gift. That reve- 
 rent regard with which I may feem to liften to a 
 mefi^age from Heaven is little better than a dif- 
 guifed impiety, unlefs it fprings from a full confi- 
 dence in the good faith of Him who fpeaks. As 
 to the perplexities that have troubled me in my 
 religious courfe, moft of them have arifen from an 
 unconfcious diftruft, or want of confidence in the 
 good faith of Him who fpeaks. If queftioned on 
 this point, I fhould have repelled the imputation — 
 " Do you indeed miftruft the Most High?" — 
 No : how can you impute to me fuch folly, and 
 fuch impiety ? So I might retort ; and I may 
 believe that the imputation is groundlefs. Never- 
 thelefs the fufpicion which I difown in formal 
 terms, creeps upon me when I am not thinking 
 of it. 
 
 Thofe efpecially who have lived among books, 
 and who, as a habit of their intelle(3:ual life, have 
 been ufed to put themfelves into the pofition of an 
 
3o8 ESSJrS, ETC, 
 
 opponent, (o as to give the fulleft weight to a 
 contrary opinion — fuch perfons find it difficult to 
 read their Bible in undiverted remembrance of 
 wh2it it is, namely — a Divine Meflage. And yet 
 I take it as fuch at the moment when I aflent to 
 its fupernatural atteftations. This proper recol- 
 le6lion, therefore, is the reafon of my firft rule, in 
 the reading of Scripture — That, as it is given me 
 for my benefit, it muft be given in all fincerity by 
 Him whofe air I breathe, and who fends me, daily, 
 my daily bread. It is clear that unlefs I am war- 
 ranted in reading my Bible with this feeling of a 
 pure religious ingenuoufnefs, a written revelation 
 can be of no fervice to me : otherwife read, it 
 muft keep me for ever on the rack of doubt and 
 uncertainty : far better be rid of it altogether. 
 This therefore is my determination, namely — To 
 feek the Principal Intention of Scripture, in a 
 perfect confidence that it has been worded in good 
 faith. 
 
 The fecond rule, available in the reading of 
 Scripture, and which is no lefs certain in my view 
 than the firft, is this — That the infpired books 
 will not teach, or in any way fuggeft, a fenfe that 
 ftiall be diretSlly at variance with the moft confpi- 
 cuous purport, or foremoft axiom of the whole 
 revelation. 
 
 This rule, certain as it is, might cafily be mif- 
 applied. It does not mean this — That my indi- 
 vidual reafon, or that human reafon at large, fhould 
 
IVITHOUT CONTROFERSr. 309 
 
 affume the right to accept, or to reje6l:, what is 
 affirmed in Scripture, becaufe it is conformable, 
 or not conformable, to its previous conclufions. 
 Nor does this rule mean, that I fhould refill any 
 Biblical do6trine on account of its apparent con- 
 trariety to other Biblical dodrines. The firft of 
 thefe errors is that of the rationalift ; the fecond 
 is that of the dogmatift ; — and both errors fpring 
 from a fimilar mifapprehenfion as to the powers, 
 and the range of the human mind, in relation to 
 religious principles. 
 
 The rule means this — That the Scriptures will 
 not, whether on the very fame page, or on pages 
 remote from each other, bring the primary fenti- 
 ments of the religious life into a pofition of irrecon- 
 cileable conflict, fo as that no other releafe from dif- 
 tra6tion of mind can be found, except that of a ftate 
 of indifference, or religious unconfcioufnefs. The 
 inftance is near at hand. I have no choice but 
 this : — I muft either attribute to certain confpi- 
 cuous, and often-cited paffages in the Gofpels and 
 Epiftles their plenitude of meanings in conformity 
 with the laws of language, and the admitted prin- 
 ciples of textual criticifm ; or if I refufe to do 
 this, then I muft feek an affuagement of the moft 
 diftra6ling perplexities in the ftupefacStion of the 
 religious emotions, and in courting whatever diver- 
 fions I can find in a fenfuous, or a frivolous life, 
 or in a cold intelle6tualifm. Is it not fo ? The 
 Bible — the Old Teftament, and the Nev/ — is a 
 
310 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 continuous and ftern condemnation of the ancient 
 error of the nations in their polytheifm ; and it is 
 a rebuke of that inveterate perverfity which tranf- 
 fers to a created power — feen or unfeen — that 
 regard, and that truftful confidence, which is due 
 to the One, the Supreme Being. To err on 
 this ground is perdition : to be rent by ambiguous 
 influences, or counter-motives, is wretchednefs ; — 
 or it is fo unlefs I feek relief in indifference. But 
 the import of the evangehc, and of the apoftolic 
 writings is to this effe6l — that the higheft religious 
 regard, and a full and truftful confidence, are due 
 to Him, perfonally, who is therein fet forth as the 
 Deliverer of men — the Christ — the Saviour of 
 the world. 
 
 It would be moft difficult — it would be impof- 
 fible — for me to maintain, in my thoughts and 
 feelings, a diftindion, fetting off the latria from 
 the hyperdulia, on this ground, even if I were 
 aided in attempting it by any apoftolic explanations, 
 and were impelled to do it by folemn and reite- 
 rated cautions. But there are no fuch aids given 
 me — there is not one fuch : — there are no fuch 
 cautions appended to paffages which feem to de- 
 mand them : — there is not one fuch. There is no 
 phrafe which elfewhere in Scripture is appropriated 
 to the higheft religious ufes, that does not find a 
 place alfo among thofe exhortations, the intention 
 of which is to fix the thoughts upon the power and 
 grace of the Saviour Chrift. Inftead of a caution, 
 
wiruovr controversy. 3 1 1 
 
 where it ftiould come, if it ought to come at all, 
 what I find is emphafis — intenfity — accumulation 
 of epithets ; — the purpofe of all being fuch as can 
 find its reafon in nothing — ftiort of the uncondi- 
 tioned meaning of thofe pafi^ages which bring the 
 Person — the Christ, into view, as the obje6l of 
 worfhip — even of the higheft worfhip of which 
 the human fpirit is capable. 
 
 That it fhould be fo is indeed — o(XQ>.oyou(M£vco; — 
 a "great myftery.'* How does it tranfcend all 
 faculties of human thought to grafp it, or to find 
 its folution, or to bring it within the compafs of 
 any known analogies ! Neverthelefs it is the 
 myftery, and it is the condition of the only poffible 
 religious exiftence. Clearly it is fo, for the uni- 
 form teftimony of experience, within the Chriftian 
 community, is to eftablifh the law that every at- 
 tempted abatement of this belief, whether by theo- 
 logic fpeculation, or by the application of excep- 
 tive criticifm to fingle pafi^ages, takes efFecSt upon 
 the religious life — to lower it, to render it ambi- 
 guous, and perplexed, and feeble, and to induce a 
 temper that is captious, and faftidious, and diftruft- 
 ful. The produ£t of fuch attempts has, in every 
 inftance, been a religion, the characSleriftic of which 
 is the irreligioufnefs of its tone, and of its language. 
 
 An inftru6led Chriftian man, when he accepts, 
 as indeed true, that which the apoftolic writers 
 plainly affirm concerning the Perfon of Chrift, will 
 not fail to look back through the courfe of time, and 
 
312 ESSJTS, ETC, 
 
 inquire in what manner this fame Biblical tefti- 
 mony has taken efFe6t upon religious minds, from 
 the firft years of Chriftian hiftory, to thefe laft 
 years. It is not in diftruil: of the Scriptures that 
 I may wifh to make this inquiry ; it is more in 
 diftrufl: of myfelf, and it is as prompted by a proper 
 diffidence that, when a truth fo tranfcendant is 
 put in my view, I fhould feek to know how it has 
 been regarded by thofe who, in long feries, have 
 gone before me. I profefs to believe in " the 
 holy Catholic Church," and " the communion of 
 faints :" — I believe, therefore, that Chriftianity 
 has realized itfelf, from age to age, in the mind 
 and afFe6lions of a great company of men, varioufly 
 trained, and varioufly minded in all things; but yet 
 of one mind as to their acceptance of whatever 
 may be the principal meaning of the Scriptures. 
 
 Thus thinking, I look back and find that the 
 orthodox faith, concerning the Perfon of Chrift, 
 has fuftained itfelf in its controverfy with each 
 fucceffive denial of it, by a dire61: appeal to the 
 apoftolic writings, on this principle, that Scripture 
 has been worded in good faith, and that our part 
 is to read it with a correfponding ingenuoufnefs. 
 On the other hand, thofe who have laboured to 
 eftablifh an abated, or a contrary belief, have been 
 thrown upon the refources of their individual fkill 
 and ingenuity ; and although thefe might feem to 
 avail them in fmgle inftances, it could only be by 
 deftroying our confidence in the good faith, or the 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr, 313 
 
 intelligence of the Apoftolic writers. In review- 
 ing the hiftory of the controverfy concerning this 
 — " the great myftery of godlinefs " — from the 
 ante-Nicene age to this, the fame chara6leriftics 
 of evafivenefs and of fubtile ingenuity attach to 
 the fide of (what is conventionally called) herefy ; 
 and yet with this difference, that whereas the early 
 opponents of orthodoxy, when compelled to fhift 
 their ground, ftill betook themfelves to pofitions 
 within the pale of Biblical authority — their fuc- 
 ceiTors, in later times, have receded, from point 
 to point, more and more remote from that autho- 
 rity. At the prefent moment thofe who maintain 
 orthodoxy, do fo in maintaining alfo the integrity 
 and the fimplicity of the Scriptures : — thofe who 
 aflail and reje6l what they defignate as — a " dry 
 Athanafianifm," in doing fo, difallow the Apoftolic 
 commiflion to teach men, as with authority from 
 Heaven. 
 
 At this time I fhould fcarcely find an ingenuous 
 opponent who would not allow that the queftion 
 of orthodoxy has refolved itfelf into the previous 
 quejiion concerning the Evangelic and Apoftolic 
 writings as determinative in religious controverfy. 
 No voice is now heard in court as reprefentative 
 of thofe who, in times gone by, have pleaded for 
 an intermediate belief concerning the Perfon of 
 Chrift. All argumentation of this order has long 
 ago gone to wreck; — there is therefore, on the one 
 fide — this orthodox belief — and on the other fide 
 
314 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 — what is It ? If In candour and fincerlty I afk 
 myfelf what there is — I can find no anfwer which 
 faves the authority of the Scriptures, or which 
 diftinguiflies them In any fenfe from other records 
 of human opinion. Chriftianlty, as a revelation 
 — means nothing, If It does not mean the faith 
 which has been profefTed in all times by the great 
 body of Chrlftian men. 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 AS Is the recipient, fuch muft be the produ6l 
 of any teaching. Efpecially does this con- 
 dition take efFe6t when truths that are as much 
 beyond the grafp of the moft capacious minds, as 
 of the meaneft, are fymbolized In words, and con- 
 denfed in propofitions. The difference will be 
 this, that what Is fo embodied carries a meaning 
 to the one mind which moves It to Its depths ; 
 while to another mind the fame form of words Is 
 nothing more than what the ear admits—" a form 
 of words " — a dead letter, or a letter that killeth 
 — a word that deadens even what might have 
 feemed to be alive. 
 
 " A dry and wordy Trinitarianlfm " Is, In 
 fa6t, a creed which, by fome accident of a man's 
 pofition, has come to lodge itfelf In a " dry and 
 wordy fpirit :" the aridity, the ftifFnefs, the word!- 
 
WITHOUT CONTROFERSr, 315 
 
 nefs, are all in the foul ; they are neither in the 
 propofitions, nor in the things fpoken of. If the 
 orthodoxy which I profefs is to me a barren for- 
 mula, I ought to know that the very fame ftate of 
 the feelings which forbids my receiving light, and 
 life, and comfort, from my confefTion of faith, 
 fheds darknefs alfo, and difcomfort, upon every 
 element of the religious life. Yet there is fome- 
 thing more than mere lifeleflhefs, which intervenes 
 between me and a cordial acceptance of what 
 fhould next follow in conftituting a Chriftian be- 
 lief; for there is a repugnance, the exiftence of 
 which, whether it be latent or avowed, will not 
 fail to betray itfelf. 
 
 I believe in " the forgivenefs of fins." Yes, 
 afiuredly ; I mujl do fo ; for we are all in fault ; 
 and 1 too am fo, no doubt : — I do not profefs to 
 be better than others ; but if I am to accept par- 
 don, I ought to know the conditions ; and I fhould 
 take time to confider the terms of peace : I fhould 
 ftipulate on the ground of my juft pretenfions. 
 Few of us would choofe to put feelings of this fort 
 into words ; and yet there are few who could 
 truthfully declare that no fuch feelings had ever 
 found a lurking-place in their hearts. A confciouf- 
 nefs of fuch rifings of nature might fufEce, even 
 without the citation of texts, as proof that man is 
 indeed "far gone from original righteoufnefs ; " 
 and that the whifperings of a difturbed confcience 
 prevail to hide from him the humiliating reality of 
 
3i6 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 his own moral condition. If I take up in turn 
 the feveral pleas, many as they are, which, in ail 
 time, have been urged as conclufive obje6lions to 
 the Biblical do6lrine of the pardon of fm : — each 
 of them has its fource plainly in thofe delufions of 
 felf-love, which, while acknowledging an obliga- 
 tion to the requirements of impartial juftice, infift 
 upon terms, as if there were a counter plea which 
 ought to be liftened to. 
 
 But now, if I put far from me, and rejeft, and 
 refufe, every fuch fuggeftion of pride, and if, in a 
 mood which undoubtedly mufl: be proper to me, 
 I take up the Scriptures, aflured as I am that there 
 is therein conveyed a mefTage of grace — worded in 
 good faith — if fo, then a queftion cannot arife as 
 to the import of the many paflages that bear on 
 this principal fubjeil. No fhadow of doubt at- 
 taches to that often-recurrent affirmation concern- 
 ing the purpofe of the death of Chrift — fuffering 
 — as fuffering to fave, when He " made His foul 
 an offering for fm." Already I have accepted 
 from the infpired writers their ineffable dodrine 
 concerning the Perfon of Chrift ; but this do6i:rine 
 finds its complementary truth in that which I now 
 accept as alfo the meaning of the fame writers, 
 concerning the purpofe of His death. The firft 
 truth demands the fecond, nor can it find its inter- 
 pretation in the teaching merely, or in the Divine 
 example of virtue and wifdom ; nor otherwife is 
 it to be underftood than as it is related to His 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 3 1 7 
 
 vicarious death upon the Crofs. It is here, and it 
 is at no point fhort of it, that the troubled human 
 fpirit finds reft. It is at this point, where the 
 fpeculative reafon confcioufly meets a limit it can 
 never pafs — it is here that the meditative mind — 
 the av^akened moral confcioufnefs, acknov^rledges 
 its home. Here the foul may abide : — here may 
 man tranquilly, if not joyfully, aw^ait the final iiTues 
 of the future life. Here, v^^ithout difmay, is it pof- 
 fible for the kindling immortal fpirit to look on 
 to the dread moment of its fummons into the 
 Divine Prefence. 
 
 I revert to what I have juft before faid of the 
 Biblical mode of conveying to the human mind fo 
 much as may be conveyed concerning the Divine 
 Nature. This teaching is moft often in terms 
 of the moral economy ; — never is it attempted in 
 thofe of abftrad thought, or of philofophy. The 
 infpired writers, in giving expreffion to human 
 conceptions of the Natural Attributes (fo we 
 fpeak !) of God — His creative power and wifdom, 
 His omnifcience, and omniprefence, and the like, 
 do fo in phrafes that are manifeftly tropical, and 
 fuch, that, in fa6t, they are never mifunderftood, 
 unlefs by infants, or by adults, infantile in mind. 
 I thus read — " The eye of the Lord is in every 
 place, beholding the evil and the good." But is 
 this mode of teaching theology a condefcenfton — 
 is it an accommodation, having in view the benefit 
 of the unphilofophic multitude ? This may have 
 
3i8 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 been imagined, and though not giving words to fo 
 fupercilious a feeling, I might have thought that 
 — if a Bible, or if a fupplementary theologic trea- 
 tife had been granted, yir me, and for a few others, 
 of my clafs — men trained in abftra6tions — in that 
 cafe, WE, enjoying a book to ourfehes^ and flattered 
 by the gift, fhould have found the elements of theo- 
 logy conveyed in terms familiar to our habits of 
 thought, and lefs rude than are thofe of the Scrip- 
 tures at large. No fuch upper-clafs treatife as this 
 — no fuch book for the privileged intellecSlualift, 
 is included in the canon : it is not there ; nor could 
 it in the nature of things have been provided for 
 me ; for there is no mundane diale6l which could 
 have been made the medium of it : there are none, 
 born of women, who could have worded it ; there 
 is no college of philofophers competent to any fuch 
 tafk as that of framing a theology in abftra6t terms 
 of the finite reafon. I take my Bible in hand 
 therefore, not as if it were a book which, being 
 gracioufly intended for the unlearned multitude, 
 I may be willing to read condefcendingly : — not fo, 
 for the Bible gives expreffion to the knowledge 
 of the Infinite Being, in that mode which is 
 demanded by the univerfal limitations of the 
 human mind. Let me not pra6life any fond illu- 
 fion upon myfelf in this matter. And undoubt- 
 edly it is better for me, as for others, that the 
 conveyance of the firft truths in theology fhould 
 be made in thofe terms that are 7nanifeJ}ly tropical^ 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 319 
 
 and which I muft know at once to be allufive and 
 analogical, than that it fhould be given in terms 
 that would feem to have been carefully and art- 
 fully conco6ted, but which, by their very avoid- 
 ance of tropes and figures, would feduce me into 
 the notion that I was receiving from them a dire£l 
 knowledge of the Infinite and the Absolute 
 Being. Iny^ reading a hyper-wrought theology, 
 I fhould be led away upon a path of pofitive and 
 dangerous error. In reading the Scriptures fuch 
 as they are^ the Infinite and Supreme is fym- 
 bolized to me in a mode which, while it fecures 
 the religious end intended, fuggefts no error of a 
 fpeculative kind. As for inftance : — it is good 
 and needful for me to be told, by authority, that 
 " the eyes of the Lord are in every place, behold- 
 ing the evil and the good." But now let me go 
 to work, and attempt to put this truth concerning 
 the Divine Omnifcience into the moft approved 
 form of philofophical expreflion ; let me condenfe 
 it, and let me expand it, and let me fence it ofF 
 from its contraries, on every fide. I fhall not 
 have finifhed my tafk until I have gone deep into 
 that raylefs abyfs in the midft of which a true 
 theology, and a ghaftly atheifm look fo much alike, 
 that I am in danger, every moment, of mifl:aking 
 the one for the other. Again, it is highly fervice- 
 able to me — in truth, it is a necefl^ary condition of 
 the religious life — that I fhould have a firm belief 
 in the efficacy of prayer, and in the reality of that 
 
320 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 Providential Government of all things, which is 
 the complementary Biblical do6lrine, involved in 
 the belief that prayer is efficacious. The tv^^o 
 beliefs, w^hile they fpring up irrefiftibly in the 
 human mind, are afTumed as certain on every page 
 of the infpired writings. Innumerable paffages 
 give expreffion to thefe two elements of piety. 
 But in every inftance they are conveyed in the 
 terms of the finite^ both as to the fuppliant recipient 
 of favours, and not lefs fo.^ as to the Hearer of 
 prayer, and the Giver of good things. I ought, 
 with efpecial care, to keep in view this fa6l at this 
 time, inafmuch as a nugatory philofophy has gone 
 fo far to entangle thefe religious elements with 
 abftracSlions wherewith they have no inner con- 
 ne6lion — no conne6lion at all. 
 
 This, then, is the ground on which I accept, 
 from the infpired writers, what they teach con- 
 cerning the death of Chrift — dying as the Saviour 
 of the world. I find it is not in figures of one kind 
 only that the meaning of Scripture on this mo- 
 mentous fubject is exprefled ; but in figures derived 
 from three or four fources. Whatever there may 
 be in the tranfa61:ions of our focial exiftence which 
 may be made convertible to the purpofe of teach- 
 ing fo tranfcendant a docflrine as that which it fo 
 much concerns us to learn, is, either by Chrift 
 Himfelf, or by His infpired fervants, fo made avail- 
 able for this purpofe. 
 
 When I examine this fymbolic phrafeology in 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr, 321 
 
 detail, it becomes evident that there is not one of 
 thefe tropical terms which I can imagine to be, 
 by itfelf, adequate to the occafion on which it is 
 employed. If it were indeed adequate to its 
 fubjecSt, there would be no room for other terms, 
 or fymbols ; but there are feveral others ; and each 
 muft find its place in the teaching to which I am 
 to liflen. 
 
 But what is the treatment which I fhould 
 give to thefe fymbols ? Am I at hberty to fay — 
 Thefe are figures, they are metaphors, in the 
 oriental ftyle, and as fuch, if I am in fearch of 
 their exa6i: import, they muft be fhorn of much 
 of their apparent value. The very contrary of 
 this fhould, as I think, be the rule of interpreta- 
 tion in the cafe. Oriental writers do indeed in- 
 dulge themfelves in the ufe of extravagant fimiles 
 when they are framing adulations for the ear of 
 potentates ; but this is not the ftyle of the Biblical 
 writers ; and when they are teaching theology in 
 terms and phrafes proper to the finite mind, which 
 are the only terms available, or, indeed, pojfible^ 
 they accumulate fuch figurative terms as fubjii- 
 tutes for terms of the Infinite, Thus, in teach- 
 ing what they teach concerning the Divine Power 
 — they fay of the Moft High, fuch things as thefe : 
 That He taketh up the ifles, as a very little 
 thing; that with Him, the mountains are only as 
 the fmall duft of the balance ; that He ftays the 
 raging of the fea, and fays to its proud waves — 
 
 Y 
 
322 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 Thus far fhall ye go, and no further. They fay 
 of God — That He fpreadeth forth the heavens as 
 a tent to dwell in ; and that as a garment, fome 
 time hence, He fhall roll them together. Thefe 
 figures, ought they then to receive a retrenched 
 interpretation ? Ought they to be denuded of 
 their oriental garb ? Not fo, for if I am willing 
 to take up David's genuine theology, and to read 
 it off in the light of my modern aftronomy, then 
 I fhall find that thefe fymbols — true and fublime 
 as they are, demand now, an interpretation which 
 immeafurably furpaffes what was included in the 
 largeft conceptions of the Hebrew king ; thefe 
 metaphors are cumulative terms of the finite, 
 employed for teaching me truths, concerning the 
 Infinite, which could neither be taught, nor 
 learned, in any other manner, whether by me, or 
 by the loftieft and the largeft of human minds. 
 Nay, if on this arduous ground I might allow 
 myfelf to fpeculate at all, I fhould incline to be- 
 lieve that, in an upper world, and in the fchools 
 where immortal intelle61;s receive their training, 
 the theology current among them is, from its be- 
 ginning to its end, delivered in tropes and figures, 
 which are known and acknowledged to be fuch : 
 the difference between the teaching on Earth, 
 and the teaching in Heaven, being this — that 
 whereas we, in the dark, are for ever beating about 
 among our abflra6f:ions, and are vainly labouring 
 to flretch them out to the dimenfions of the 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 323 
 
 Infinite, they in Heaven have long ago come to 
 underftand that all fuch endeavours are a folly. 
 The abftradlions of the finite reafon become de- 
 lufive fi6tions when they are put forward as appli- 
 cable to the Infinite : whereas the figures and 
 (as they might be called) the fi6lions of a fym- 
 bolic ftyle are lights on the highway of eternal 
 truth, when we take them for what they are — our 
 only guides on that road. 
 
 Let me now apply thefe maxims of Biblical in- 
 terpretation — I venture fo to think of them — to the 
 Biblical ftyle in teaching me all I can learn in this 
 world, and perhaps in another, concerning what is 
 technically called the do6lrine of the Atonement. 
 Take one inftance out of many. Christ, as 
 teacher of a new morality, or of a morality newly 
 illuftrated by His own practice, is fpreading out to 
 view that felf-renunciation of which His coming 
 into the world was the brighteft example. He 
 fays — " Even as the Son of Man came into the 
 world, not to be the receiver of fervices, but that 
 He might Himfelf render fervices to others." 
 Thus far the terms are literal, and they are fuch 
 as manifeftly exhauft the fubjecSt to which they 
 are applied ; for the words find a full interpretation 
 within the circle of the duties and ofiices of com- 
 mon life. But then there is an appended claufe : — 
 the teaching, in relation to the immediate occafion, 
 was completed at the femicolon ; yet it receives a 
 fupplement j it is as if, when the purpofe of Chrift's 
 
324 ESSAYS, ETC, 
 
 coming into the world were brought within the 
 field of vifion, it was not poffible to flop fhort in 
 the mention of what was only an adjunctive pur- 
 pofe — the giving an example of felf-denying bene- 
 ficence ; not fo, for this Teacher of men came 
 principally as their Deliverer ; and in this capacity 
 He came " to give His foul, a redemption-price 
 for the many." Now the terms of this appended 
 claufe are not intelligible in a literal fenfe : mani- 
 feflly they are tropical : — they lead outvjard, be- 
 yond that home-circle within which the terms of 
 the firft claufe complete their intention. There 
 was nothing which met the eye of thofe who were 
 fpe6tators of the Crucifixion, that could correfpond 
 with the terms of this fubjoined claufe : a fenfe 
 more remote — a fenfe occult is to be inquired for. 
 There is a tranfa6lion, the parties concerned in 
 which do not make their appearance on this ftage : 
 the principals are not here vifibly prefent. Chrift's 
 death, as a martyrdom, was a vifible event; and 
 thofe of the byftanders who were capable of learn- 
 ing the lefiTon, might learn the whole of it as they 
 flood. 
 
 It is, then, as if in thefe eight words — xai ^ouvai 
 rriv -vj/yxriv ccuroo Xurpov avTi TToKkav — a momentary 
 uplifting of the veil of the great world were taking 
 place : and in this moment (begun and pafTed in 
 the twinkling of an eye) there had flood in view 
 the long line of the captive human race : — the 
 Tyrant — enemy of God and man — with the chain 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSY. 325 
 
 in his hand : — the laying down of a price which 
 he would, but which he dares not refufe : — then 
 the dropping of that chain from his relu6lant grafp, 
 and — the releafe of uncounted millions ! 
 
 All this is figure ; but it is figure which has its 
 intention, and which touches more nearly the truth 
 of the things in profpe6l than any form of words 
 could do which, difcarding metaphor, (hould aim 
 to be literal and exa6i:. In changing its terms, 
 and in feeking aid from other fources among the 
 things of earth, the Biblical ftyle keeps fteadily in 
 view its fingle purpofe, namely, to fuggeft a belief 
 concerning the death of Chrift which fhall quite 
 exclude the notion (otherwife probable) that the 
 crucifixion was a martyrdom merely. It would 
 be fafe to feek for inftances in the Apoftolic writ- 
 ings ; but thofe occurring in the Gofpels may be 
 regarded as having a peculiar emphafis. 
 
 " The Good Shepherd giveth His life for the 
 fheep " — He layeth down His foul for them. 
 Metaphor again, and it is indeed a brief utterance ; 
 but yet the terms, few as they are, open up, as 
 before, the unfeen world ; and the fame perfons, 
 and their confli6t, are dimly revealed ; and the 
 centre fa6t is the fame — the crucifixion ; and the 
 price off'ered to the Tyrant is the fame ; for it 
 is the foul of the Deliverer that is the price of the 
 redemption of the captives. And the metaphor 
 is fuch as to preclude all rifk of its being inter- 
 preted in a literal fenfe. And it is becaufe the 
 
326 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 do6lrine, and the fa6ls, which are thus fymbohzed, 
 fo immeafurably tranfcend the powers of human 
 language to exprefs them, and fo far tranfcend the 
 range of human thought to grafp them, that both 
 the do(5lrine, and the fac^s, are everywhere con- 
 figned to figures, and to fuch figures as could not, 
 except as perverted by the fuperftition of a dark 
 age, have received a literal interpretation. Under- 
 ftood as a fyftem of figures, Chrift's teaching, on 
 various occafions, conftitutes a uniform do6trine 
 concerning the one purpofe of His death. Even 
 thofe variations in the wording of His laft utter- 
 ance at the Supper, as reported by the three Evan- 
 gelifts, may well be underftood to convey a further 
 precaution, intended to guard againft the dan- 
 gerous miftake of interpreting literally that which 
 fo far exceeds any power of words. It is evi- 
 dent that, in the conveyance of what fhould 
 be underftood in a literal fenfe, on a fubje6l like 
 this — namely, the purpofe of the death of Chrift, 
 there could have been only one form of words by 
 which fo momentous a doctrine could be certainly 
 made known. But a figurative conveyance of it 
 may admit of many variations without damage to 
 the meaning ; inafmuch as, at the beft, fuch lan- 
 guage can be taken for nothing more than an ap- 
 proximate exprefTion of an ineffable truth. 
 
 Throughout the Apoftolic writings every utter- 
 ance bearing upon the fame fubje6l is concentric 
 with Chrift's own words, when His death, and 
 the manner of it, and its purpofe, are in His view. 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr, 327 
 
 This purpofe I can no more mifunderftand than I 
 can mifunderftand thofe many pafTages occurring 
 in the Pfalms, and the Prophets, which fymbolize 
 the power, the providence, the wifdom, the om- 
 nifcience, and the companion of God. The terms 
 are various, the metaphors are drawn from every 
 available fource ; but the final intention is put 
 beyond the reach of miftake, unlefs when a per- 
 verted reafon refolves to take to itfelf the falfe, and 
 to caft away the true. 
 
 More than three or four pafTages in the Apof- 
 tolic Epiftles might fuggeft an inquiry concerning 
 the purpofe of the Saviour's defcent into Hades — 
 the Sheol — the prifon of fpirits. But that which 
 more concerns me is — the triumphant return of 
 the Deliverer from that prifon-houfe. It is not 
 among fhadows, obfcurely fpoken of, that I am 
 left to feek the aflurance of fafety which I need, 
 when on the border of the world unknown. A 
 firm aflurance of the forgivenefs of fins, and of 
 every other benefit which now in this life, and in 
 the future life, is embraced in the Chriftian 
 fcheme, is brought to reft upon a fa6l concerning 
 which I may pofl^efs myfelf, if I need ity of incon- 
 teftible hiftoric evidence, namely — the Refurrec- 
 tion of Chrift. Yet are thofe to be accounted 
 happy whofe perfonal confcioufnefs of their indi- 
 vidual memberfliip in Chrift carries them clear of 
 any fuch neceflity ! To feel this neceflity is a 
 penalty that muft be paid by the educated, as the 
 price of their prerogatives. 
 
328 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 THE Refurredllon of Chrlft — a principal 
 event, it muft be, in the hiftory of the hu- 
 man family ; and as this event is cognizable 
 through the medium of thofe ordinary evidences 
 which put us into correfpondence with hiftory at 
 large, it might well claim the place due to it as at 
 once the inftance, and the proof, of a deftiny fo 
 much higher than mortality could otherwife afpire 
 to. Thought of in this way, this event might 
 feem itfelf to pafs over from the region of theology, 
 and to attach itfelf to the philofophy of human 
 nature. But no fuch transference as this can, in 
 faft, be allowed ; for the Refurre6lion of Chrift 
 has another, and a higher intention than that of 
 enlarging our conceptions of the deftiny of the 
 human fpecies : it is the governing event in an 
 economy which is purely fpiritual ; and it will 
 withdraw and withhold our thoughts from what- 
 ever belongs to a lower order of ideas. 
 
 What is it then that I intend by this phrafe — 
 a phrafe fo vaguely employed often — the fpiritual 
 economy ? It is that recover}^, and it is that dif- 
 cipline of human fouls individually^ which is the 
 leading fubje6l of Chrift's laft difcourfe with His 
 difciples before His hour of fuffering. He there 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 329 
 
 fpeaks to them of the advent of the Comforter, 
 the Spirit of Truth, who fhould " abide with them 
 for ever," and fhould " teach them all things " — 
 in a word, fhould open up anew the communion 
 of man with God, and bring it to refl upon a new 
 foundation. This fpiritual economy is not decla- 
 rative, nor is it univerfal, like that of the moral 
 fyflem, which embraces all beings that are rational 
 and accountable ; but it is a difpenfation that is 
 flri6lly individual, and the benefits of which are 
 imparted in a fovereign manner, wherever they 
 are beflowed at all. It is a difpenfation of grace 
 connected always with the life, the death, the 
 refurrecStion, and the mediation of Chrift, as the 
 Saviour of them that, throughout all time, fhall 
 hear His voice and follow Him. 
 
 If, while this prefent life is running out, I am 
 feeking alTurance, and if I need a fleadfaft hope as 
 to the future life, neither of thefe bleffings can ever 
 be attained on the field of difcurfive and unauthentic 
 meditation ; for that field, on every fide of it, 
 borders upon an abyfs — dark and unknown. Hope, 
 and peace, and affurance, mufl come to me from 
 above, and they muft fo come as that I may be 
 able, at all times, to conneft them with that 
 which is well-defined, and is warranted, and is 
 approvable to reafon and confcience. That Di- 
 vine Energy to which I am taught to attribute 
 whatever, in a genuine fenfe, is good within me, 
 conforms itfelf to the terms of the written Reve- 
 
330 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 lation which is in my hand. The fpiritual life is 
 a difcipline, and an exercife, and a commence- 
 ment, every rudiment of which, and every poflible 
 condition of it, has already been noted, and put into 
 terms, and fet forth in inftances, within the compafs 
 of the infpired writings. Apart from this verbal 
 and this definite guidance, and from this authentic 
 teaching, I may conje6ture anything, and imagine 
 what I pleafe ; and after making excurfions, to 
 the right and the left, far into the illimitable 
 gloom, I fhall return to queftion all things, to 
 doubt everything, and to ficken of all. There 
 could be no reft, on this ground — ground it is not, 
 but a region of dreams, wherein the human mind 
 has never attained to what it needs — peace in prof- 
 pe6l of the future. 
 
 Within the compafs of the infpired writings I 
 find that which meets and fatisfies the wants of 
 the foul in its yearning to hold communion with 
 God — the Father of fpirits, and to be aflured of 
 His favour. In the Gofpels and Epiftles I am 
 fully inftru6led as to the terms of this communion ; 
 but it is in the devotional portions of the Old 
 Teftament, and there only, that I find the expref- 
 fion of it. I need both ; and it is a circumftance 
 full of meaning that, whereas in the New Tefta- 
 ment the conditions of peace between man and 
 God are fet forth with the utmoft explicitnefs, 
 little or nothing is added in them, either in the 
 Gofpels or the Epiftles, as a pattern or exempli- 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 331 
 
 flcation, or as the formulae of this newly-opened 
 communion. In the New Teftament there is 
 hiftory, and there is do6lrine, and precept ; but 
 there is no fpiritual liturgy ; there are no models 
 at large of evangelic meditation ; there is no new 
 recenfion of the worfhip of the ancient Church : 
 as well the public prayer and praife, as the folitary 
 wreftlings of the foul with God, which ferved the 
 faithful in the earlieft times, the fame muft ferve 
 us alfo in thefe laft times. 
 
 What fhould be the inference from this notice- 
 able fail ? It is this, that as to the communion 
 of the human fpirit with the Father of fpirits, it 
 had already received its charafter and ftyle, and it 
 had attained its higheft expreflion, and it had 
 reached its moft mature form in the Pfalms, and 
 in the theologic and devotional paflages of the Pro- 
 phets. It is thus, in fa6t, that the devout in all ages 
 have taken up, and have employed thefe fublime 
 paflages, and thefe odes, and thefe meditations. 
 But then thefe ancient formulae of devotion — thefe 
 model expreflions of the throes of the fpiritual 
 life, were given to the pious among the Hebrew 
 people while they were ftill uninformed, explicitly, 
 concerning the future life. This faft imports 
 much. Thinking jufl now only of the devotional 
 Pfalms, and of fome paflages in the Prophets, it is 
 to be noted that thefe voices of the foul, moved to 
 its depths, and giving emphatic utterance to its 
 yearning for the enduring favour, and fruition of 
 
332 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 the prefence of God, are drawn forth by nothing 
 more momentous than the changeful experiences 
 of the ordinary lot of man — man whofe days are fo 
 {qw — man, in his brief time of frailty and fmful- 
 nefs — man in his paffing hour of ficknefs and defti- 
 tution — his hour of faintnefs and thirft in the 
 wildernefs, when purfued by the cruel, and be- 
 trayed by the falfe, and caft down by troubles that 
 {hall fee their end at fun-rife, and chilled by a cloud 
 that is even now moving off from the heavens ! 
 It is as thus difciplined among the things of this 
 fhort day of life, that the foul is brought into cor- 
 refpondence with the Infinite, the Eternal, whofe 
 favour ftiall be endlefs. 
 
 Here then is a refult that is vaflly out of pro- 
 portion with the occafions whence it is educed. 
 Here Is a difcipllne, looking on to a remote fu- 
 turity, which futurity has barely been announced ! 
 Here is a training for an endlefs life ; but the 
 endlefs life itfelf is, at the beft, dimly foreftiadowed 
 only. The trial begins and ends In a day — a year, 
 or a threefcore years and ten ; and the learners in 
 this fchool are fpending their days of vanity or pain 
 as a tale that is told ; and while they are thus 
 chaftened every morning, and fore troubled every 
 evening, they are learning thofe leflbns of Im- 
 mortal wifdom which befpeak a deftiny whereof 
 nothing more than an ambiguous whifper has 
 come, once and again upon the ear. Here then, 
 in confidering the conditions under which fouls 
 
WITHOVr CONTROVERSr, 333 
 
 were trained, of old, I learn what it concerns me 
 to underftand, as to the Divine Method, always 
 the fame, for the fpiritual difcipline of the human 
 fpirit. 
 
 Now — and under the conditions of the Chriftian 
 fyftem — juft as it was under the ancient fyftem — 
 the foul is wrought upon intenfely, and it is pro- 
 foundly moved by the things of the hour and of the 
 day ; from which tranfient interefts it would fain, 
 but cannot do fo, difengage itfelf. Why not treat, 
 as they deferve, thefe trials of the moment — come 
 and gone, while we fmart under the lafh ? Why 
 not contemn thefe cares and pains ? How wife 
 were it to contemn them ! We think we will do 
 fo to-morrow ; but to-morrow fhall fee our ftoical 
 refolves fhattered, and we in fchool once again. 
 But in this fchool of to-day I am learning leflbns 
 which, y^^y^r as appears^ I fhall have no occafion 
 to put in practice when the time comes that I 
 have thoroughly well learned them. 
 
 So it was with the long feries of thofe to whom 
 the Scriptures of the Old Teftament were given : 
 — they were in training for a life hereafter, which 
 life had not ht^n fo revealed to them as that the 
 hope of it fliould diftinftly utter itfelf in their 
 religious language, either of folitary meditation, 
 or of difcourfe, one with another. And thus 
 it is now, even under the brighter light of the 
 Chriftian revelation : the Divine Method is fub- 
 ftantially the fame. Although the announcement 
 
334 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 of immortality Is now diftin6l, and the conditions of 
 Its attainment are fet forth In the cleareft manner, 
 yet little more Is given than fome dim Indications 
 of what that life eternal Is to be, in preparation for 
 which the difcipllne of the prefent life is — what 
 we find It to be. The arduous fervices, and the 
 trials of principle, and the bold enterprifes of that 
 future cycle of aeons fhall be fuch — how can It be 
 fuppofed otherwife — they fhall be fuch as fhall ex- 
 hibit, and fhall juflify the wifdom that has ordered 
 the training which fills the years and days of this 
 prefent life. 
 
 That I fhould well learn the lefTon of this life, 
 but that while learning It I fhould not know its 
 meaning — this Is the purpofe of Him who appoints 
 it ; therefore, it is upon the learning of this lefTon 
 that my befl thoughts fhould be concentred, and I 
 ought to be content to look on, feeing in front of 
 me the thick folds of a veil that is never lifted. 
 And yet this veil, impenetrable as It is, Is it not 
 figured with fymbols on this fide ? Certainly it 
 is fo ; nor need there be hefitation In attempting 
 to decipher thefe hieroglyphics, for whatever is 
 fpread out before the eye of man Is doubtlefs in- 
 tended for his perufal. But ought it not to be be- 
 lieved that, at this time. If not ages ago, the entire 
 fenfe of Scripture has been laid open ? What 
 can there now remain. In thefe days of Bible 
 exploration, to be brought up from the depths ? 
 An anfwer to this queilion, intended to check 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr. 335 
 
 prefumption, I find at hand,y^r/? in this fa6l, which 
 obtrudes itfelf in reviewing the courfe of religious 
 thought through the lapfe of centuries — that what 
 have been the allowed limits of thought in one 
 age, have not been its limits in another : thefe 
 limits, in fa6i:, are found to be variable, from time 
 to time : the fubje6ls of religious inquiry are in a 
 courfe of fhifting from one period to another. 
 The indifference, and the inobfervance of this 
 prefent time, on fome fubjecSls, may thus be 
 brought into comparifon with the vivid intelli- 
 gence, and the a6tive curiofity of times long gone 
 by, and now almoft forgotten. The individual 
 reader of the Bible ought indeed to be cautious 
 when he is tempted to fet his fmgle opinion in 
 oppofition to the mind and judgment of the Church 
 univerfal ; but he need not be troubled with diffi- 
 dence when he puts fmall value upon the opinion 
 of the time now paffing, if it ftands oppofed, as 
 it may, to the opinion of times paffed. 
 
 But again, a reply to the above-named repref- 
 five query may be found in noticing that inat- 
 tention to the meaning of certain fignal paf- 
 fages in the Old Teftament, and in the New, 
 which prevails at this time — whether it be the 
 pulpit, or the prefs, that is thought of. In public 
 and in private — in the family and in Church — 
 the Bible is read — by the chapter : — it is doled out 
 in lumps : it is recited, and it is heard, as if it had 
 long ago fpent its force ; it is infifted upon with 
 
336 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 emphafis at points only : it is dlfregarded through- 
 out thofe flat places upon which no intenfity of 
 the prefent moment happens to fall. 
 
 Moreover, in what relates to the future deftiny 
 of the human family at large, there are other in- 
 fluences which come in to intercept the courfe of 
 a free interpretation of the infpired writings. We 
 hear it faid — " Do not open up fuch and fuch 
 fubje6ls : — you will unfettle the minds of people." 
 Meantime Chriftianity itfelf is weighted down in 
 the fecret mufings of thoufands of thoughtful per- 
 fons. But beyond this, the incubus of fyftematic 
 Theology fits heavily upon religious thought, and 
 ftifles Biblical inquiry. Such and fuch beliefs — 
 plainly as they may ftand out upon the furface of 
 the Scriptures— how fhall they be reconciled to 
 our other beliefs, which are equally certain, or 
 more fo ? What will become of our doctrinal 
 forms ? — nay, how fhall we fave the credit of our 
 theological fynthefis ? — how — unlefs we pafs over 
 in filence thofe things which this fynthefis will 
 never avail to bring into their place in our divinity 
 fcheme. Befides, if you admit into your religious 
 fyftem this and that, you furrender our contro- 
 verfial ftronghold : — you open a way, and the 
 enemy will come in ! 
 
 Allowance fhould be made for thefe fears, 
 groundlefs as they are ; for it can be no wonder 
 if even men of intelligence give way to alarms at 
 a time when a lawlefs and arrogant fcepticifm has 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr, 337 
 
 made deep inroads upon the Chriftian convi6lions 
 of multitudes, as well among the educated, as 
 among the uneducated. It may feem the duty of 
 wife and difcreet inftru6lors to throw their whole 
 weight on to the confervative fide, in religious 
 opinion. But there are moments when nothing 
 is fo perilous as a blindfolded perfiftence in con- 
 fervatifm. We know it is fo in politics, and is it 
 not fo in religion alfo ? 
 
 Confervatifm in the feniors pafles into fome 
 form of worldly difcretion, or of fheer indifference, 
 or of tacit infidelity, when it is taken up by their 
 fons and fucceflbrs. The tranfmutation is a fiient 
 procefs — no one fpeaks of it ; no one denounces 
 it j but it is in the courfe of this very procefs that 
 Chriftianity fubfides into its periodic condition of 
 powerlefs formalifm. Thus it has been — how 
 many times — in the courfe of eighteen hundred 
 years ? It cannot be told how often this cycle 
 has been run through ; but this may be affirmed, 
 that, at whatever point of Chriftian hiftory we 
 make our entrance upon the fcene, the rife and 
 the fall — the time of power, and the feafon of 
 {lumber, are juft then taking their turn. Falfe 
 religions (lumber for centuries, when once they 
 have fpent their primeval forces ; but the Chriftian 
 force fuffers abatement for ftiort feafons only j — it- 
 felf lives, it awakes, it walks forth : — it has renewed 
 its youth, and it gathers fouls anew. 
 
 So it fhall be yet again : national events may 
 
338 ESSATS, ETC. 
 
 come in to give an impulfe to the minds of men : 
 — there may come a feafon of fufFering perhaps ; 
 but the new Hfe of a period of reftoration takes 
 its rife in the fpirits and hearts of a few — a two, or 
 three. So it has always been. Greater than any 
 " tendency of events" is the mind of this and of 
 that man — born, and taught, and moved onward 
 from above. But although the movement be indi- 
 vidual, and thus muft defy human forethought, yet 
 does it ftand related to the things of the time, when 
 it occurs. It is on this ground, therefore, that the 
 chara6leriftics of the next coming Chriftian reno- 
 vation might be predicted; and thus one might 
 prefume to predict for the Church of the next age 
 a rea6lion from the formalifm of this. 
 
 There is an outer-work that muft precede an 
 inner Chriftian movement. There muft be a 
 clear ground of reafon on which the convictions 
 of the few who think muft be made to reft. In the 
 coming time thofe many forms of anti-Chriftian 
 opinion which have flared up in thefe laft times 
 {hall have collapfed, or have fallen in upon that 
 one mode of thought which alone is logically pof- 
 fible on the fide of dift)elief. Even now thofe 
 who have followed the courfe of thought on that 
 fide from year to year will be ready to acknow- 
 ledge that there is no holding — there is no ledge 
 for the foot — anywhere upon the flope toward ma- 
 terial atheifm, or that extreme creed which fatif- 
 fies a fenfuous and fenfual flefhlinefs. As to any 
 
WITHOVT CONTROVERSr. 339 
 
 fcheme of pantheifm which hitherto has been 
 imagined — it is a figured gauze — ftretched over the 
 mouth of the bottomlefs pit. 
 
 The bafement work, in preparation for a feafon 
 of Chriftian renovation, muft be carried yet fome 
 way further. In a remarkable manner the courfe 
 of inquiry of late years has tended to the clearing 
 up of antiquity on all fides — to the certification 
 of hiftory, at all points, and to the confequent 
 verification of thofe methods of argumentation, 
 by means of which a folid road athwart the gloom 
 of ages has been formed, and is fafely trodden. 
 The ifilie fhall be a realizing confidence in the 
 truth of the Evangelic Records — fimply thought 
 of as hiftory. This renovation is now greatly 
 needed. The myth-whims, and the cobwebs of 
 German " profound thought" are an amazement 
 to Englifh minds that have made acquaintance 
 with the realities of the Apoftolic period, and 
 thefe fancies will be gone as mifts, at the dawn of 
 the next day-time of religious feeling. 
 
 The bafement work in preparation for fuch a 
 time muft include alfo fome reforms in halls of phi- 
 lofophy. Accompliftied and well-intending men 
 will come at length to acknowledge the impafi^able 
 limits, and the impotency of abftradt thought, as 
 related both to the unknown, and to the Infinite 
 in theology. Such men will ficken of the infruc- 
 tuous toil of attempting to teach Chriftianity phi- 
 lofophically, or of teaching atheiftic philofophy, 
 
340 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 Chriftianly. What is it that has come, hitherto, 
 of thefe mifdirecled endeavours ? They have not 
 given us either a Chriftian metaphyfics, or an 
 intelligible anti-Chriftian metaphyfics. Chriftian 
 behef is expreffible in Biblical ftyle, and not in 
 any other ftyle : yet this is not becaufe there is 
 not, in the upper heavens, a philofophy proper to 
 it ; but becaufe, for conveying its axioms, no 
 diale6l on earth has any terms. 
 
 Nugatory difbeliefs wound off", and done with ! 
 nugatory Chriftianized philofophies fpun out, and 
 done with ! Biblical criticifm become religious, 
 becaufe admitted without jealoufy : — Holy Scrip- 
 ture become refplendent ; or, as one might fay, 
 incandefcent, throughout, and taking efFeft upon 
 all minds — and then it need not be thought a chi- 
 merical fuppofition that the Divine intention of 
 the infpired writings fliould be accepted on all 
 fides, and that (let church organizations be as 
 many as we pleafe) Chriftian do6lrine fhould be 
 received in its integrity, humbly, cordially, every- 
 where, and " without controverfy," by all ! 
 
 In this Eflay I have endeavoured to fet forth 
 — ftep by ftep, a courfe of thought, in follow- 
 ing which a pofition of religious reft, or of a 
 tranquil, if not joyful looking forward into the 
 unknown future may be attained. A pofition 
 much in advance of this point of reft is no doubt 
 attainable \ and the fimple-hearted Chriftian man. 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr, 341 
 
 whofe life and temper are in accordance with 
 Chriftian precepts, may afluredly reach it without 
 prefumption. If at this time I am Hopping fhort 
 of this further and warrantable ftage in the Chrif- 
 tian life, it is on this account — namely, that I am 
 fuppofmg the cafe of thofe — and there are more 
 than a ^qw fuch — whofe habits of thought may be 
 of a kind that debars them from any fuch tranquil 
 enjoyment of a cloudlefs faith. It is the enviable 
 happinefs of fome — of many — to have read their 
 Bible from theiryouth up, and to have read little elfe. 
 But I am now thinking of thofe who — often and 
 often, have trod the round of meditation, and who, 
 after deriving from Chriftianity itfelf exalted con- 
 ceptions of the Divine Attributes, have imbibed 
 from it alfo a fenfitivenefs which is incompatible 
 with that tone of enjoyment which gives animation 
 to the piety of fome around them. Let it be 
 granted that there is a fault — and it may be a 
 ferious fault — on the part of any who thus come 
 fhort of this animation, and who, when challenged 
 to be glad, and to lift up the head, find it difficult 
 to difengage themfelves from meditations that come 
 on as a cloud, from remoter fources, and which 
 fettle down upon their profpecSt. The fenfitivenefs 
 and the difquietude which I am here fpeaking of 
 are recent developments of the Chriftian con- 
 fcioufnefs ; and they are of that fort which attends 
 deep changes in modes of thinking that have not 
 
342 ESSJTS, ETC, 
 
 reached their end or purpofe : no doubt thty Jh a II 
 reach that end, if not now, yet in the times of our 
 fuccefTors. 
 
 In looking back upon any period we pleafe in 
 centuries paft, there are to be feen Chriftian men 
 — many or few — doing honour to their profeffion 
 as laborious and felf-denying benefactors — the dif- 
 penfers of benefits, bodily and fpiritual : — wherever 
 want, and pain, and woe were abounding, men 
 have been at hand who have learned from Chrift 
 the firft lefTon of His new law of love. All was 
 rio;ht thus far ; neverthelefs one mav be amazed to 
 find, along with this acSliive Chriftian element — the 
 abfence of that meditative fenfibility which, in 
 thefe times, fo deeply moves many minds, in rela- 
 tion to the human family at large. 
 
 Chriftian charity, in thefe times, feems as if it 
 would reverfe the order of beneficence, as given 
 us in the Apoftolic precept — " Doing good to all 
 men — fpecially to them that are of the houfehold 
 of faith ;" for now it is as if v/e read it — " Spe- 
 cially to them that are not of that houfehold." 
 Doubtlefs there is a deep meaning in this revulfion 
 of feeling ; and we may take it as a filent prepa- 
 ration for a new and amazing development of the 
 powers of the Gofpel to reftore all things. At 
 this time it is not only the prefent condition, but 
 the deftinies of the unblefled, the unprivileged, 
 the loft, the vifibly non-ele(5t of the thoufands 
 
WITHOUT CONTROVERSr, 343 
 
 near us, and afar off, who are dwelling in the 
 outer darknefs of hopeleflhefs, as to this life and 
 the future — it is thefe, and their wretchednefs, that 
 fix the thoughts of the meditative kw who mufe 
 and fpend their days in fadnefs. Meantime the 
 enterprifing and the better-minded are up, and are 
 bufied in all pra6licable fchemes of reformation. 
 Concerning fuch fchemes, if wifely ordered, there 
 can be no controverfy ; for how thick foever may 
 be the darknefs into which we have lately learned 
 to look, it muft be well to carry into it a lamp ; 
 and whatever may be the miferies of the pit, it 
 muft be a good work to carry help to our fellow- 
 men there that have never had a better home ! 
 
 On this path, as on every other, the blefTed 
 Book which has been given us from above holds 
 toward us the fame method : — it folves no prob- 
 lems — it fatisfies no impatience, it gives no philo- 
 fophy of pain and of fin : — it abftains even from 
 affording a gleam of light — off the narrow way 
 which the individual Chriftian man is to tread. 
 None of thefe things do the infpired writers do for 
 us ; but yet that narrow way is well defined, and 
 as to the myftery of the evil and the fuffering of 
 v/hich lately we have learned to think fo much, we 
 muft feek no folution of it, or aflc — How is it fo ? — 
 Why fliould it be fo ? — What will be the end ? 
 There is no refponfe ! Heaven will not be in- 
 quired of by us as to any fuch matters. 
 
344 ESS ATS, ETC. 
 
 Let it be fo ; for the work before us Is free 
 from a fhadow of doubt. As to our troubled 
 thoughts — an anguifh as they are to fome — this 
 difquiet may be the prognoftic of a time coming 
 when the power of the Gofpel to blefs the human 
 family fhall be fo amply developed as fhall at once 
 overpafs all controverfy within the ChrifHan pale, 
 and put to filence for ever all gainfaying from 
 without. 
 
SUPPLEMENT TO ESS AT V. 345 
 
 SUPPLEMENTARY TO THE FIFTH 
 
 ESSAY. 
 
 Adifl:in6tion which fliould always be kept in 
 view has not been duly prefented in the 
 Eflay — " Theodosius : — Pagan Ufages, and the 
 Chriftian Magiftrate." What we fhould intend 
 by thefe " Pagan Ufages " with which the " Chrif- 
 tian Magijirate^^ may have to do, are not the 
 immoralities of men individually — abounding, as 
 they do, everywhere, and which it is the office of 
 the minifter of religion to rebuke, and which he 
 muft aim to remove by perfuafions addrefled to 
 the confciences of men fmgly : — thefe are not what 
 we mean ; for with thefe — as fins — it is not the 
 office of the magiftrate to concern himfelf. Pagan 
 ufages (we are thinking of fuch as are immoral) 
 are national cuftoms, and legalized pra6lices, and 
 injiitutions which, being of ancient date in a coun- 
 try, are recognized as allowable^ or are cherifhed 
 as good', at leaft they are fubje6led to no general 
 reprobation ; but perhaps they are gloried in, and 
 are upheld by the public arm, and are endowed by 
 the public funds. 
 
 Now as to fuch ufages — fuch infiiitutions, and 
 fuch legalized crimes — abominable as they may 
 
 A A 
 
346 ESSJTS, ETC. 
 
 be — this is to be noticed concerning them — and 
 never fhould it be forgotten — that Chriftianity 
 abitains from naming, or denouncing, or prohibit- 
 ing them : — it is filent becaufe it takes quite ano- 
 ther courfe in ridding the world of them : it does 
 at length rid the world of them ; but this happy 
 ifiue it brings about in its own manner. It be- 
 comes us to underftand what this method is — for, 
 if we miftake it, we fhall be likely to fall into the 
 impious pra6lice of pleading the filence of the 
 Gofpel in behalf of the worft abominations. 
 
 When a crime of any fort has pafTed into its 
 fixed form as an institution — when a fin has 
 come to ftand upon the fair fide of a people's fl:a- 
 tute-books — when the Devil has been called in to 
 prepare the rough draft of a liberal enactment, then 
 — we fhall look in vain for texts in which fuch 
 crimes of a ftate are denounced, or are even 
 named. The Gofpel, as it addrefi^es no offer of 
 falvation to nations, fo does it preferve an ominous 
 filence concerning their fins. 
 
 But this boding filence — is it approval ? none 
 will think fo but thofe whofe reafon is fafl: going — 
 where their confcience has long ago gone — to 
 ruin. What then are thefe Pagan ufages ? What 
 are thefe national institutions which Chrif- 
 tianity does not name, and does not denounce, 
 but of which, at length, it rids every country 
 where it gains the afcendancy ? They are thefe 
 nine following : — I. Polygamy. II, Infanticide. 
 
SUPPLEMENT TO ESS AT V. 347 
 
 III. Legalized Proftitution. IV. Capricious Di- 
 vorce. V. Sanguinary and groflly immoral Games. 
 
 VI. Inflldion of Death or Punifhment by Torture. 
 
 VII. Wars of Rapacity. VIII. Cafte ; and, IX. 
 Slavery. 
 
 Each of thefe immoralities was pra£lifed, and 
 was more or lefs diftin6lly exifting as a focial In- 
 ftitution — a ufage — of the neighbouring nations in 
 the time of Chrift's miniftry. In fa6t, each of them 
 had then a place even in Paleftine, fo far as that it 
 muft often have come before Him ; — and was an 
 immorality perpetrated under His eye. Yet one 
 only of the nine on this lift did He name, and de- 
 nounce — that is the fourth : and the reafon of the 
 preference given to it we might eafily find. But 
 were the eight approved ? It is a madnefs to think 
 fo — it were blafphemy to fay it ! With each of thefe 
 non-mentioned immoral ufages Chriftianity, in its 
 progrefs among the nations, came into confli6t at 
 an early time ; and then, in its own manner^ by en- 
 lightening the individual confcience, it either abro- 
 gated them entirely, or it greatly mitigated the 
 evil of each of them. Some of thefe ufages dif- 
 appeared filently, very foon after the moment of 
 the imperial converfion : others fell from their 
 place as applauded cuftoms, and quietly fubfided 
 into a pofition of tolerated evils — condemned, yet 
 winked at. Each of them, among modern na- 
 tions, vanifhes wherever Chriftianity prevails, and 
 is free to fpeak its mind. To this averment there 
 
348 ESSAYS, ETC. 
 
 is not — there never has been — ^an exceptive in- 
 ftance. Certainly the worft of the nine — Slavery 
 — is not an exception : how could it be fo, for it 
 includes, and it gives its eager fupport to, at leaft, 
 feven of thefe enormities out of the nine : — it does 
 fo as thus — Slavery has had its commencement in 
 the moft atrocious of all the forms of aggreflive 
 and lavi^lefs war : flavery perpetuates the moft 
 odious of the diftin6lions of cafte : — flavery en- 
 forces its initial wrong by giving a brutal licence 
 to punifliment by torture. And as to that circle 
 of crimes which are the attendants of flavery, in 
 vitiating the relation of the fexes — flavery is the 
 foul of each of thofe abominations with which the 
 brutal luft and the demon-like cruelty of man have 
 ever blighted what God has blefl^ed. Slavery does 
 indeed exift in countries where Chriftianity is blaf- 
 phemoufly profefl^ed ; — but in no country does 
 flavery maintain itfelf in which the Gofpel takes 
 effe6l upon the confciences of men. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 CHISWICK PRESS :— PRINTED BY C. WHITTINGHAM, TOOKS COURT, 
 CHANCERY LANE. 
 
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 ^.