Jhcoloflical  .^cminaviu 
 
 /    P1UN€ET0N,  N.  ©iyision 
 
 BS  480  .C86  1834  c.l       | 
 Croly,  George,  1780-1860. 
 Divine  providence,  or.  The! 
 three  cycles  of  revelatior|« 
 
 11 
 
 I  Till-  Jdlin   y\.   Ki(-I>>   Oonutioii. 
 
DIVINE   PROVIDENCE; 
 
 THREE  CYCLES  OF  REVELATION. 
 
nLEERT  &  RIVINGTON,  PRINTERS, 
 ST.  John's  squake. 
 
DIVINE  PROVIDENCE; 
 
 OR,  THE 
 
 THREE  CYCLES  OF  REVELATION, 
 
 SHOWING  THE 
 
 PARALLELISM  OF  THE  PATRIARCHAL,  JEWISH, 
 AND  CHRISTIAN  DISPENSATIONS. 
 
 BEING  A  NEW   EVIDENCE  OF 
 
 THE  DIVINE  ORIGIN  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 BY  THE 
 
 REV.  GEORGE  CROLY,  LL.D. 
 
 RECTOR  OF  BONDLEIGH,  DEVON. 
 
 "  The  appearance  of  the  wheels  and  their  work  was  like  unto  the  colour  of  a  beryl :  and  they 
 four  had  one  likeness :  and  their  appearance  and  their  work  was  as  it  were  a  wheel  in  the 
 middle  of  a  wheel.  They  turned  not  when  they  went.  As  for  their  rings,  they  were  so  high 
 that  they  were  dreadful ;  and  their  rings  were  full  of  eyes."— Ezekiel  i.  16—18. 
 
 LONDON: 
 JAMES  DUNCAN,  PATERNOSTER  ROW 
 
 1834. 
 
THE  LORD  BROUGHAM  AND  VAUX, 
 
 LORD  HIGH  CHANCELLOR  OF  ENGLAND, 
 THIS  VOLUME 
 
 IS,    WITH   GREAT   RESPECT,  INSCRIBED 
 
 BY  HIS  VERY  FAITHFUL 
 
 AND  OBEDIENT   SERVANT, 
 
 GEORGE  CROLY. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The  most  important  question  that  can  be  submit- 
 ted to  the  human  understanding,  is,  "  Whether 
 Christianity  is  true?"  On  this  point  all  reasoners 
 are  agreed.  Whatever  belongs  to  the  infinite 
 future  must  be  immeasureably  more  important 
 than  any  interest  bound  up  with  so  brief  a  date  as 
 the  existence  of  man  on  earth  ;  and  Christianity, 
 professing  not  only  to  give  assurance  of  an  immor- 
 tal duration,  but  to  supply  us  with  the  means  of 
 making  that  duration  a  state  of  the  highest  dignity, 
 security,  and  happiness,  necessarily  establishes 
 a  claim  to  be  considered,  in  preference  to  any 
 question  arising  merely  from  this  world.  A  great 
 number  of  works  on  the  "  Evidences  of  Christi- 
 anity" have  been  published,  especially  in  the 
 Church  of  England,  and  their  learning  and  ho- 
 nesty have  done  honour  to  that  venerable  protec- 
 tress of  all  that  is  good  and  true  in  human  prin- 
 ciple.     In  offering  a  new  tribute  to  that  Church, 
 
VIU  PREFACE. 
 
 and  to  the  Religion  of  which  it  has  long  been  the 
 most  eminent  champion,  the  writer  of  these  pages 
 is  desirous  only  of  treading  in  the  same  path  of 
 dut}^  and  of  feeling. 
 
 Those  works  have  adopted  two  distinct  general 
 forms  of  argument :  evidence  from  the  facts  of 
 history ;  and  evidence  from  human  nature ;  the 
 former  palpably  the  more  forcible,  for  to  facts 
 there  can   be  no   answer :  the  latter  allowino-  the 
 
 o 
 
 utmost  extent  of  human  ingenuity,  and,  on  some 
 minds,  capable  of  exerting  a  very  high  degree  of 
 conviction.  But  the  spirit  of  scepticism,  however 
 unable  to  refute,  finds  too  easy  a  refuge  from  both. 
 To  the,  argument,  from  the  progress  of  Christi- 
 anity, from  its  early  obscurity  to  its  rapid  influ- 
 ence, and  from  the  singular  simplicity  of  its  means 
 to  its  triumph  over  the  arms  and  artifice  of  hea- 
 thenism, he  affects  to  reply  by  the  extraordinary 
 changes  produced  on  the  scale  of  nations  by  in- 
 struments of  obvious  simplicity,  and  points  to  the 
 religious  revolutions  of  the  East,  and  the  political 
 phenomena  of  the  West.  His  reply  is  thin  and 
 imperfect,  but  it  covers  the  nakedness  of  his  cause  ; 
 it  protects  him  from  the  forced  acknowledgment 
 of  discomfiture  ;  and  Scepticism  has  never  asked 
 much  more. 
 
 The  argument  from  human  nature,  as  less  di- 
 rect, is  still  more  liable  to  evasion.  Paley,  who 
 has  done  the  greatest  justice  to  this  argument, 
 and  whose  able  work  is  now   the  popular  autho- 
 
PREFACE.  IX 
 
 rity,  founds  it  on  the  two  propositions — "  1st.  That 
 there  is  satisfactory  evidence  that  many,  profess- 
 ing to  be  original  witnesses  of  the  Christian  mira- 
 cles, passed  their  lives  in  labours,  dangers,  and 
 sufferings,  voluntarily  undergone  in  attestation  of 
 the  accounts  which  they  delivered,  and  solely  in 
 consequence  of  their  belief  of  those  accounts,  and 
 that  they  submitted,  from  the  same  motives,  to 
 new  rules  of  conduct ;  2dly,  that  there  is  not  sa- 
 tisfactory evidence  that  persons  professing  to  be 
 original  witnesses  of  other  miracles,  in  their  na- 
 ture as  certain  as  those  are,  have  ever  acted  in  the 
 same  manner,  in  attestation  of  the  accounts  which 
 they  delivered,  and  properly,  in  consequence  of 
 their  belief  of  those  accounts," 
 
 The  consolation,  the  beauty,  and  the  trutli,  of 
 this  argument  to  the  Christian,  are  undeniable. 
 But  he  must  first  be  a  Christian.  There  is  no- 
 thing here  to  shut  the  mouth  of  the  Sceptic,  who  is 
 determined  to  subtilize  himself  out  of  all  relioion. 
 He  appeals  to  the  common  instances  of  imposture, 
 of  religious  fanaticism,  of  that  mixture  of  intellec- 
 tual feebleness  with  religious  ardor,  which  has 
 filled  the  world  with  the  follies  or  the  furies  of 
 enthusiasm.  His  argument  is  utterly  unsound,  but 
 it  is  specious.  For,  what  solidity  of  argument  can 
 be  built  upon  human  motives  ?  The  two  antago- 
 nists are  contending  in  an  element  which  forbids 
 a  solid  footing.  Truth  and  falsehood  are  strug- 
 gling on  the  same  surge,  which  lifts  or  sinks  either 
 
X  PREFACE. 
 
 or  both  without  reference  to  their  cause.  No 
 Christian  can  read  Paley's  volume  without  feeling 
 his  faith  strengthened.  But  it  may  be  questioned 
 whether  it  ever  converted  an  infidel ;  its  proof 
 is  too  elastic  to  bind  the  stubbornness  of  an  in- 
 fidel. 
 
 The  most  capable  argument  hitherto  offered  is 
 undoubtedly  that  arising  from  the  consecutive 
 nature  of  the  three  dispensations  ;  for  all  that  we 
 can  require  for  the  truth  of  Christianity  is,  to 
 prove  that  it  has  been  the  work  of  God.  That  fact 
 once  ascertained,  its  doctrines  and  promises  must 
 be  received  as  they  are  given.  But  the  succes- 
 sion of  the  three  requires  so  much  chastised  and 
 calm  inquiry,  which  the  indolence  of  scepticism 
 will  not  undertake;  and  so  much  clearing  away 
 of  matters  originating  solely  in  local  circumstance, 
 of  which  its  prejudice  is  glad  to  take  advantage; 
 that  hitherto  few  arguments  have  been  less  prac- 
 tically effectual. 
 
 The  argument  proposed  in  the  present  volume 
 differs  from  all  that  have  preceded  it,  much  in 
 principle,  and  totally  in  form.  Its  object  is  to 
 prove  that  "  Christianity  is  the  direct  work  of  Pro- 
 vidence ;"  and  this,  not  by  any  mere  probability 
 arising  from  its  original  weakness  and  subsequent 
 power  ;  nor  from  its  moral  superiority;  nor  from  the 
 sufferings  undergone  by  sincere  minds  in  its  cause; 
 nor  even  from  its  prophetic  testimonies  ;  but  from 
 the  comparison  of  facts  acknowledged  by  all,  with- 
 1 
 
PREFACE.  XI 
 
 out  reference  to  religious  opinion.  It  will  be  shown 
 that  the  leading  facts  of  Christian  history  have 
 been  the  leading  facts  of  the  two  former  dispen- 
 sations, Judaeism  and  the  Patriarchal  religion ; 
 and  that  those  facts  have  occurred  in  the  three, 
 not  merely  in  essence,  but  with  the  same  pur- 
 pose, and  in  the  same  order ;  yet  that  no  mere 
 dry  sequence  has  been  observed  in  the  order  of 
 the  respective  dispensations,  but  that  they  have 
 received  in  each  those  slight  variations  of  shape 
 and  colour  which  exhibit  a  supreme  adapting  hand, 
 varying  the  process,  but  distinctly  preserving  the 
 principle. 
 
 Those  facts  in  the  Patriarchal  dispensation,  were, 
 — that  man  first  remained  for  a  certain  period  in  a 
 state,  of  which  little  more  is  known  than  that  he 
 existed — that  he  then  became  the  father  of  two  sons 
 — that  they  offered  sacrifices,  of  which  one  was  re- 
 jected and  the  other  received — that  the  elder  slew 
 the  younger,  was  deprived  of  his  inheritance,  and 
 exiled  for  ever — that  a  third  son  was  born  to  sup-* 
 ply  the  place  of  the  slain  brother — that  he  became 
 the  founder  of  a  sacred  line — that  his  descendants 
 grew  corrupt — that  they  were  swept  away  by  a  great, 
 direct  act  of  Divine  justice — that  a  remnant,  who 
 had  adhered  to  virtue,  were  preserved  by  the  Di- 
 vine interposition — that  from  a  state  of  suffering 
 and  desolation,  they  were  suddenly  raised  into 
 boundless  dominion,  and  became  the  regenerators 
 of  the  world — tliat  a  new  apostasy  arose,  grew  sin- 
 
XU  PREFACE. 
 
 gularly  powerful,  crushed  the  pure  familyof  the  Pa- 
 triarchal house,  and,  finally,  was  in  its  turn  crushed 
 by  a  direct  interposition  of  Heaven ' .  It  will  be 
 shown,  that  all  those  facts  have  been  gone  through 
 twice  subsequently,  in  the  Jewish  and  Christian 
 eras,  with  attendant  circumstances,  proving  that 
 Providence  continued  to  exercise  a  constant  provi- 
 sion for  their  performance,  and  for  their  suitable- 
 ness to  the  necessary  changes  arising  from  three 
 states  of  mankind  so  totally  distinct  as  those  of  the 
 Patriarchal,  the  Jewish,  and  the  Christian,  world. 
 Whether  this  proof  can  be  effected,  the  reader 
 will  ascertain  in  the  subsequent  pages.  But  if  it 
 can,  there  is  an  end  to  all  defence  on  the  part  of 
 Scepticism  ;  it  may  still  determine  to  disbelieve  ; 
 but  it  cannot  deny,  with  any  claim  to  rationality. 
 If  three  such  series  are  established,  maintaining 
 this  broad,  plain,  and  unbroken  parallelism  with 
 each  other,  it  is  utterly  impossible  to  conceive 
 that  chance  has  had  any  thing  to  do  with  the  sub- 
 ject. The  most  startling  contradiction  of  the 
 order  of  nature  could  not  present  a  stronger  diffi- 
 culty, than  the  supposition  that  this  connection 
 was  the  work  of  casualty.  If  it  be  shown  to  be 
 true;  the  acknowledgment  of  a  Providence,  as  the 
 
 '  The  .Jewish  series  begins,  not  with  the  rejiresentative  of 
 Adam,  but  of  Seth,  and  then  proceeds  regularly  ;  the  Christian 
 series  begins  with  the  representative  of  Adam,  but  of  course  the 
 completion  of  the  Cycle  is  still  in  the  future.  For  the  Sethite 
 commencement  of  the  Jewish  a  sufhcioiit  reason  is  assi<jned. 
 
PREFACE.  XUl 
 
 Author  of  Christianity,  is  no  more  capable  of  dis- 
 pute than  the  properties  of  the  triangle.  It  is  de- 
 monstration. 
 
 But  it  will  be  found,  that  not  merely  the  nature 
 and  order  of  the  leading  facts  in  the  three  dispen- 
 sations are  exactly  the  same,  but  that  the  indivi- 
 dual characters  of  the  leading  men  and  nations 
 are  the  same  ;  that  individuals  born  two  thousand 
 years,  and  whole  empires,  asunder,  have  had  pre- 
 cisely the  same  part  in  the  several  series  ;  with  the 
 same  character  of  mind,  the  same  successes,  and 
 reverses  ;  that  Joseph  in  Egypt  and  St.  Paul  in 
 Greece,  that  Ezra  in  Judaea  and  Luther  in  Ger- 
 many, that  Alexander  in  Asia  and  Napoleon  in  Eu- 
 rope, have  especially  been  the  direct  providential 
 agents  in  the  same  departments  of  their  series  ;  and 
 that  among  all  the  natural  distinctions  of  country, 
 objects,  ability,  and  creed,  they  have  been  pre- 
 served in  a  singular  adherence  to  the  great  predo- 
 minating principle,  of  effecting  the  purposes  of 
 Heaven  in  the  service  of  its  revelation. 
 
 It  is  also  perfectly  probable,  that  to  place  the  evi- 
 dence of  religion  in  this  especial  point  of  view,  as 
 the  strongest,  has  been  a  peculiar  purpose  of  Hea- 
 ven ;  from  the  very  nature  of  types  and  prophecy. 
 The  chief  value  of  prophecy  is  certainly  not  in  what 
 it  could  communicate  at  the  time  of  its  delivery  ; 
 for,  excepting  its  occasional  menaces  to  the  guilt 
 of  the  Jewish  kings,  its  predictions,  even  of  the 
 character  of  the  Messiah,  were  declaredly  and  in- 
 
XIV  PREFACE. 
 
 tentionally  obscure.  To  us,  who  have  seen  its  ac- 
 complishment, what  is  its  chief  value  ?  Certainly 
 not  in  giving  us  a  knowledge  of  facts,  of  which  we 
 know  enough  from  their  occurrence  before  our 
 eyes.  Its  chief  value  is,  as  proof  that  those  facts 
 have  been  long  since  contemplated  by  Providence, 
 that  they  are  a  part  of  a  plan,  that  Providence  was 
 the  author  of  the  plan,  and  was  conversant  and 
 active  in  realizing  the  transaction.  The  types  of 
 Christ  still  more  strongly  sustain  this  view.  To 
 the  actual  type,  or  to  the  men  of  its  age,  the  si- 
 militude must  have  been  unknown,  and  therefore 
 useless  ;  to  us,  who  have  the  history  of  Christ 
 before  us,  his  types  are  comparatively  unimportant, 
 as  sources  of  knowledge,  while  his  life  remains 
 written  in  the  Gospels.  Their  chief  value  is, 
 that  they  prove  a  plan,  that  they  demonstrate  an 
 intention  of  Providence  to  act,  ages  before  the 
 intention  was  to  be  fulfilled,  and  that  in  the  ful- 
 filment they  compel  us  to  trace  the  action  to  the 
 agency  of  Providence. 
 
 But  considerations  of  the  most  solemn  and 
 anxious  nature,  must  thus  be  opened  to  the  view 
 of  European  Protestantism.  The  heaviest  scourge 
 that  fell  upon  Judah  was  the  visitation  of  a  period 
 corresponding  in  all  its  characters  to  the  period 
 on  which  we  are  now  entering.  The  personal 
 alliances  of  the  chosen  people  with  the  surround- 
 ing heathen ;  the  consequent  leaning  to  their 
 opinions ;    and  the  partial  adoption  of  their  man- 
 
PREFACE.  XV 
 
 iiers  ;  were  offences  which,  rapidly  staining  the 
 purity  of  the  national  faith,  were  scourged  with 
 terrible  severity. 
 
 Protestantism   in  Europe  now  stands  precisely 
 in  the  same  position  with  Judah  in  the  midst  of 
 the  fallacies  and  temptations  of  the  ancient  world. 
 Germany,  the  land  of  the   Reformation,    seems, 
 even  at  this  moment,  to  invite  the  scourge.     The 
 scandalous    corruption    of  domestic    life    in    her 
 courts  and  cities,   the  Jacobinical  turbulence  and 
 vice  of  her  colleges,  and  the  enormous  and  even 
 ostentatious    infidelity   of  her   theologians,    have 
 made  that  great  country  long  a  fearful  object  to 
 every  man  who  knows  that  for  such  things  there 
 is  an  inevitable  reckoning.     How  far  the  innate 
 virtue   of  Protestantism   may  be   able  to  sustain 
 itself,   must   be  a  trying  question.     But  the  era 
 is  already  begun  which  shall  see  a  general  strug- 
 gle of  truth  against  fallacy  and  religious  contami- 
 nation throughout  Europe.     The  scourge  fell  on 
 the  Jewish   Church,   in   the   interval   succeeding 
 the  partition   of  the   Macedonian    empire.     The 
 interval  succeeding  the  fall  of  the  French  empire, 
 takes  the  same  place  in  providential  history,  and 
 will  witness  the  same  extent  of  evil,  for  the  same 
 exorbitant  offence,  upon  the  inheritor  of  the  spirit 
 and  privileges  of  Judah,    the   Church   of  Euro- 
 pean Protestantism.    As  Epiphanes  prostrated  the 
 Jewish  altars,    crushed  the  nation,   and  dragged 
 the  people  in  chains  to  a  senseless  and  abhorred 
 
XVI  PREFACE. 
 
 \v(jrs}ji|j  ;  Europe  may  yet  see  the  Church  all  but 
 extinguished,  its  temples  desecrated,  and  some 
 new  shape  of  tyranny,  thoroughly  Infidel^  forcing 
 upon  all  men  some  new  and  monstrous  observ- 
 ances, on  penalty  of  the  worst  vengeance  that 
 belongs  to  the  heart  of  a  tyrant.  From  this  in- 
 tolerable shame  and  torment  some  may  escape  ; 
 but  they  will  be  protected  only  for  their  clearness 
 from  the  original  crime  of  the  nation.  But  many 
 even  of  the  pure  will  suffer,  as  in  all  persecutions  ; 
 and  be  called  on  by  Heaven  to  give  up  their  lives 
 in  attestation  of  their  faith.  There  will  be  finally 
 a  renewal  of  martyrdoms  to  a  great  extent,  fol- 
 lowed by  reactions,  and  those  again  followed  by 
 new  horrors  of  pollution  and  blood  ;  until  the  full 
 satisfaction  shall  have  been  made 
 
 Strong  and  high  coloured  as  views  of  this  kind 
 may  appear,  they  are  but  the  mere  restatement  of 
 facts  which  have  already  been  before  the  eyes  of 
 mankind.  We  have  but  to  read  the  Book  of 
 Maccabees,  to  see  what  miseries  may  await  na- 
 tions which  allow  religion  to  fall  to  the  ground 
 through  native  negligence,  or  the  adoption  of 
 foreign  crime.  If  we  are  to  be  told,  that  in  a 
 civilized  age  ^uch  things  are  impossible,  we  have 
 only  to  turn  to  the  pages  of  the  last  half  century, 
 and  refer  the  doubter  to  the  transcript  there  by 
 the  hand  of  Revolution,  in  the  most  polished  period 
 of  the  most  polished  nation,  the  Greece  of  the 
 modern  world.     We  are  now  actually  entering  on 
 
PREFACE.  XVll 
 
 that  period  known  in  prediction  as  the  Fifth  Seal ; 
 in  which  it  is  declared  to  the  spirits  of  those  who 
 in  the  early  ages  died  for  the  faith,  that  but  a 
 comparatively  brief  time  shall  elapse  before 
 they  shall  see  their  number  completed  \  Those 
 views  are  not  offered  to  excite  needless  alarm, 
 but  to  awaken  salutary  caution.  The  future 
 decay  of  Christianity  was  undoubtedly  contem- 
 plated by  its  Divine  Author.  He  declares  that, 
 at  his  second  coming,  he  shall  scarcely  discover 
 a  trace  of  religion  :  "where  shall  he  find  faith 
 upon  the  earth?"  that  mankind  shall  be  totally 
 engrossed  by  the  objects  of  the  senses,  and  all 
 that  belongs  to  the  future  world  will  be  almost 
 totally  obliterated  from  the  human  mind  ;  yet  that 
 a  remnant  shall  exist,  and  be  finally  secure.  It 
 is  in  every  man's  power  to  make  one  of  that  rem- 
 nant; just  as  much  as  it  is  in  his  power  to  avoid 
 any  penalty  of  human  law.  The  vigilant  will  be 
 generally  secure,  even  in  the  time  of  religious 
 casualty.  The  virtuous,  in  the  worst  extremity, 
 will  be  universally  secure  from  the  "sting"  that 
 
 '  "  And  when  he  had  opened  the  Fifth  Seal,  I  saw  under  the 
 altar  the  souls  of  them  that  were  slain  for  the  Word  of  God,  and 
 for  the  testimony  which  they  held :  and  they  cried  with  a  loud 
 voice,  saying,  How  long,  O  Lord,  holy  and  true,  dost  thou  not 
 judge  and  avenge  our  blood  on  them  that  dwell  on  the  earth  ? 
 And  white  robes  were  given  unto  every  one  of  them  ;  and  it 
 was  said  unto  them,  that  they  should  rest  yet  for  a  Utile  season, 
 until  their  fellow-servants  also,  and  their  brethren,  that  should 
 be  killed  as  they  were,  should  he  fulfilled."  (Rev.  vi.  9 — 11.) 
 
 a 
 
XVlll  PREFACE. 
 
 alone  makes  death  an  evil.  In  what  form  the 
 penalty  may  approach ;  whether,  as  in  the  days 
 of  the  Syrian  and  Egyptian  wars,  in  the  concus- 
 sions of  governments,  and  the  furies  of  that 
 struggle  between  the  great  powers  of  the  North 
 and  the  South,  for  which  such  ample  elements 
 seem  to  be  stored  up  at  this  moment ;  whether  in 
 civil  havoc  ;  or  in  some  inconceivable  generation 
 of  public  evil,  some  fire-winged  and  iron-fanged 
 destroyer,  springing  up  from  the  black  abyss  of 
 sacrilege  and  infidelity  ; — those  are  things  wrapt 
 in  the  mysteries  of  time.  But  they  will  come  ; 
 and  woe  be  to  the  nation  and  to  the  man  who  is 
 not  awake  when  they  come  \ 
 
 '  There  are  no  data  whatever  for  the  time,  more  than  for  the 
 form.  The  usual  calculations  of  the  coming  of"  the  kingdom," 
 taken  from  Daniel,  are  entirely  erroneous.  The  1290  days,  and 
 the  1335  days,  (xii.  11,  12.)  solely  refer  to  the  period  of  the 
 devastation  under  Antiochus  Epiphanes,  "  when  the  daily  sacri- 
 fice was  taken  away,  and  the  abomination  of  desolation,"  his 
 standard,  was  set  up  in  the  captive  city ;  they  are  literal  days, 
 answering  to  the  literal  period  of  the  desolation ;  and  they 
 are  completely  and  obviously  separated  from  the  prophecy  of 
 "  the  end,"  the  coming  of  that  period,  when  Daniel,  with  the 
 other  saints,  is  to  rise,  and  "  stand  in  his  lot."  On  the  other 
 hand,  the  prophecy  of  the  "  time,  times  and  a  half,"  by  its  very 
 expression  (its  date  is  1000  years  later),  is  different.  It  re- 
 fers to  the  1260  years  of  Christian  depression,  under  the  influ- 
 ence which,  beginning  in  the  year  a.  d.  533,  restrained  the 
 liberty  of  the  Scriptures,  until  the  period  was  wholly  closed  by 
 the  French  republican  war,  in  1793.  No  prediction  whatever 
 gives  us  ground  for  calculating  the  cjioch  of  the  second  coming. 
 
PREFACE.  XIX 
 
 It  is  to  be  added,  that  the  work  now  offered  to  the 
 Christian  is  not  controversial.  It  scarcely  alludes 
 to  opinion  ;  it  does  not  willingly  contain  a  syllable 
 offensive  to  the  opinions  of  any  body  of  Christ- 
 ians. While  all  are  objects  of  the  compassion  of 
 God,  there  can  be  no  reason  why  even  their  errors 
 should  divorce  them  from  the  good-will  of  his 
 creatures.  Even  where  the  truth  of  history  has 
 pressed  hardest,  the  pressure  has  certainly  not 
 been  aggravated  by  any  contumely.  Nothing  has 
 been  an  object  of  solicitude  but  the  argument. 
 Let  it  be  calmly  examined.  If  it  be  established, 
 we  shall  no  more  have  infidel  historians.  Instead 
 of  perplexing  himself  with  looking  for  the  prin- 
 ciples of  national  change  among  the  blind  in- 
 tricacies and  stolid  subtleties  of  the  world,  the 
 historian  will  look  upward,  and  make  his  way  by 
 the  lights  hung  in  heaven  ^ 
 
 And  this  is  only  conformable  to  the  declaration  of  our  Lord, 
 that  it  was  a  knowledge  entirely  reserved  from  man.  "  Of  that 
 day  and  hour  knoweth  no  man."  He  revealed  the  date  of  the 
 fall  of  Jerusalem  freely,  fixing  it  within  the  living  generation  ; 
 but  the  remote  and  final  catastrophe  was  essentially  to  be  a 
 surprise  to  all  mankind. 
 
 The  writer  desires  the  more  peculiarly  to  express  this  opinion, 
 as  in  his  "  Interpretation  of  the  Apocalypse"  he  had  given  way 
 to  the  concurrent  idea  of  the  commentators,  that  the  numbers  of 
 Daniel  were  in  this  instance  connected  with  the  numbers  of  the 
 Book  of  Revelation.  He  omitted  the  statement  in  the  subse- 
 quent edition. 
 
 1  Historians,  even   when    unstained   with     infidelity,     seem 
 
 a  2 
 
XX  PREFACE. 
 
 in  general  to  have  unaccountably  forgotten  that  a  Providence 
 existed.  But  tlie  late  work  of  Dr.  Miller,  of  Armagh,  "  History 
 Philosophically  Illustrated,"  redeems  at  least  the  present  day 
 from  this  dishonour.  It  is,  beyond  comparison,  the  best  Modern 
 History  of  Europe,  learned  and  accurate  vidthout  tediousness, 
 and  religious  without  affectation.  It  ought  to  be  in  the  hands 
 of  every  scholar,  every  gentleman,  and  every  man  who  desires 
 to  have  a  comprehension  of  the  spirit  of  European  history. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK  I. 
 
 THE    FIRST    CYCLE. 
 CHAP.  PAGE 
 
 1.  The  Existence  of  God 1 
 
 2.  Creation.     Its  successive  days 16 
 
 3.  Its  successive  aspects  to  the  faculties  of 
 
 Spirits 40 
 
 4.  The  Planetary  Worlds.     Their  nature  and  habitancy     75 
 
 5.  The  Mosaic  Geology.     Its  truth ;  and  the  unsound- 
 
 ness of  the  Infidel  Geology 92 
 
 6.  Paradise 126 
 
 7.  The  Fall 139 
 
 8.  The  Tree  of  Knowledge 156 
 
 9.  The  Tree  of  Life 162 
 
 10.  The  Flame  of  the  Cherubim 173 
 
 11.  The  Elohim 182 
 
 12.  The  Adamite  State 187 
 
 13.  Cain  and  Abel.     New  theory  of  their  sacrifices  and 
 
 contention 191 
 
 14.  The  Longevity  of  the  Patriarchs   216 
 
 15.  The  Septuagint 222 
 
XXll  CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP.  PAGE 
 
 16.  The  Ante-diluvian  Patriarchs.     New  theory  of  their 
 
 generations,  as  types  of  Judseism 228 
 
 17.  The  Post-diluvian  Patriarchs 239 
 
 18.  The  Patriarchal  Line.     The  Deluge 258 
 
 19.  The  Site  of  Paradise 269 
 
 20.  The  New  World 277 
 
 21.  The  Division  of  the  Earth 283 
 
 22.  The  Confusion  of  Tongues 300 
 
 BOOK  II. 
 
 THE    SECOND    CYCLE. 
 
 23.  The  Call  of  Abraham 307 
 
 24.  Moses 321 
 
 25.  The  Ten  Plagues.     New  Theory  of  their  succession. .  330 
 
 26.  The  Law  of  Moses 339 
 
 27.  The  Tabernacle.    New  theory  of  its  two-fold  purpose, 
 
 and  of  the  Ark  of  the  Covenant 347 
 
 28.  The  Sabbath 360 
 
 29.  The  Mosaic  Worship 369 
 
 30.  Miracle.     View  of  its  four  changes 380 
 
 31.  The  Egyptian  Enchanters 389 
 
 32.  The  Mosaic  Miracles.     The  Red  Sea— The  Dwelling 
 
 in  the  Wilderness — The  Character  of  Moses ....  395 
 
 33.  The  Jewish  Kingdom 418 
 
 34.  The  Restoration  of  Judah 429 
 
 35.  Ezra.     His  revival  of  the  Scriptures 440 
 
 36.  The  Greek  Language 453 
 
 37.  The  Syrian  Wars 467 
 
 38.  Christianity 473 
 
 39.  Paganism    482 
 
 40.  Constantino   491 
 
CONTENTS.  XXlll 
 
 CHAP.  PAGE 
 
 41.  The  Vision  of  Constantine 494 
 
 42.  The  Second  Advent 503 
 
 43.  The  Christian  Church 524 
 
 BOOK  III. 
 
 THE    THIRD    CYCLE. 
 
 44.  The  Second  Adam 532 
 
 45.  The  Apostolic  Church 546 
 
 46.  Christendom 553 
 
 47.  Babylon 579 
 
 48.  The  Reformation 585 
 
 49.  Napoleon 591 
 
 50.  The  Future 622 
 
DIVINE  PROVIDENCE, 
 
 THREE  CYCLES  OF  REVELATION. 
 
 CHAPTER   L 
 
 THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD. 
 
 *'  The  invisible  things  of  Him  from  the  crea- 
 tion of  the  world  are  clearly  seen,  being  under- 
 stood by  the  things  that  are  made,  even  his 
 eternal  power  and  Godhead  \"  This  is  the  argu- 
 ment of  St.  Paul,  charging  the  heathen  world 
 with  voluntary  ignorance  of  God ;  His  eternal 
 power,  and  Godhead,  though  invisible  to  the  eye, 
 being  visible  to  the  mind  through  their  evidences 
 in  the  frame  of  the  universe  ^. 
 
 '  Rom.  i.  20. 
 
 This  voluntary  ignorance  chiefly  referred  to   the  heathen 
 
 errors  relative  to  the  Divine  attributes ;  for  the  existence  of  a 
 
 supreme  Deity  was  the  general  belief.     Thus  Cud  worth  says, 
 
 "  As  for  the  generality  of  the  Greeks,  whether  they  apprehended 
 
 B 
 
'2  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD. 
 
 The  process  by  which  the  human  understand- 
 ing may  be  led  to  the  discovery  of  the  Supreme 
 Being;  is  brief  and  clear.  We  see  matter  round 
 us  on  all  sides,  moved,  moulded,  and  animated ; 
 we  know,  from  an  experience  so  universal,  as  to 
 act  with  the  force  of  an  instinct,  that  matter  can- 
 not move,  mould,  or  animate  itself.  Those  effects 
 then  must  be  produced  by  something  which  is  not 
 matter.  The  human  mind  knows  but  two  classes 
 of  existence,  matter  and  spirit.   It  therefore  decides 
 
 God  to  be  a  Mind,  separate  from  the  world,  or  the  Soul  of  the 
 world ;  it  cannot  be  doubted,  that  by  the  word  Zevq,  they  com- 
 monly understood  the  Supreme  Deity,  the  Father  and  King  of 
 gods ;  the  Being  frequently  invoked  as  Ztu  Trarcp,  (probably 
 Latinized  into  Jupiter,)  and  Zeu  ava,"  (^Intell.  Syst.  v.  2.)  The 
 chief  Legislators  also  professed  an  intercourse  with  the  Deity  as 
 a  sanction  to  their  laws ;  as  in  the  instance  of  Minos,  Solon, 
 Lycurgus,  and  Numa,  (though  this  is  a  very  different  thing 
 from  Warburton's  statement,  that  they  founded  their  laws  on 
 the  Immortality  of  the  Soul.)  Strabo  even  acknowledges 
 Moses  to  have  been  among  those  inspired  transmitters  of  law, 
 {Geog.  1.  16.)  The  grand  shape  of  Heathen  error  was  the 
 polytheism.  By  dividing  the  attributes,  it  fonned  gods  of  all 
 degrees  of  propensity  and  power.  Varro  reckons  300  Jupiters 
 alone.  Hesiod  30,000  deities.  The  progress  of  vice  must  be 
 boundless,  when  every  man  might  sanction  his  excesses  by  the 
 example  of  a  deity  fabricated  on  liis  own  model,  (Terence.) 
 The  Greeks  reckoned  Jive  classes  of  superior  beings  : — the 
 Supreme  God ;  the  Olympian  Gods ;  Demons,  ruling  the  air ; 
 Deified  Heroes,  ruling  the  world ;  Evil  Demons.  Yet  they 
 seem  to  have  had  some  notion  of  the  Unity,  {Hill,  Instit.)  ;  and 
 to  have  occasionally  acknowledged  the  necessity  of  Revelation. 
 {Plato,  dc  Rep.  and  Alcib.) 
 
THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD.  3 
 
 that  this  producer  must  be  a  Spirit\  But  all  things 
 are  also  evidently  constructed  with  a  view  to  an 
 end.  An  end  implies  intelligence  ;  the  accom- 
 plishment of  an  end  implies  power ;  the  skill  of 
 the  accomplishment  implies  wisdom.     The  Spirit 
 
 '  The  Materialist  controversy  was  strongly  agitated  during  the 
 last  century.  Both  sides  perplexed  the  question  by  wandering 
 from  the  facts.  The  Immaterialists,  by  assuming  that  every 
 Materialist  must  be  an  Infidel ;  the  Materialists,  that  every 
 Immaterialist  must  be  an  enemy  to  fair  investigation ;  both 
 falling  into  the  absurdity  of  limiting  Omnipotence !  Yet  the 
 true  question  lies  in  a  sentence  ;  What  are  the  facts  ?  It  is  as 
 obviously  absurd  of  the  Immaterialist  to  deny  that  the  Almighty 
 ca7i  create  a  thinking  Material,  as  of  the  Materialist  to  assert, 
 without  evidence,  that  he  has  created  it.  The  power  of  the 
 Deity  must  be  without  limit.  The  point  is,  whether  it  has  been 
 exerted  ?  The  onus  clearly  lies  on  the  Materialist.  Let  him 
 show  that  the  properties  of  matter  have  any  similitude  to  the 
 faculties  of  spirit ;  that  weight,  solidity,  expansion,  crystalliza- 
 tion, &c.,  have  any  analogy  whatever  to  judgment,  memory, 
 will,  imagination,  &c.  This  he  has  never  been  able  to  show, 
 this  he  cannot  show  ;  and  therefore  as  a  question  of  fact,  his 
 system  is  totally  fallacious  and  unphilosophical.  It  is  remark- 
 able that  the  three  principal  advocates  for  the  Materialist  doc- 
 trines, found  it  as  difficult  to  believe  that  the  Church  of  Eng- 
 land was  a  Scriptural  Church,  as  that  the  soul  of  man  was  not 
 a  compound  of  clay.  Hartley,  who  had  been  intended  for  the 
 Church,  revolted  at  the  subscription  of  the  Thirty-nine  Articles ; 
 and  became  a  physician.  Priestley's  "  Disquisitions  on  Matter 
 and  Spirit,"  were  followed  by  his  "  Treatise  against  the  Divinity 
 of  our  Lord  ;"  and  that  again,  in  natural  descent,  by  a  system  of 
 philosophical  necessity.  Belsham,  whose  "  Elements  "  embody 
 the  doctrines  of  his  master,  was,  like  him,  a  Socinian  minister. 
 
 B  2 
 
4  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD. 
 
 which  moves,  moulds,  and  vivifies,  a  world  so 
 full  of  motion,  form,  and  life,  must  then  be  at 
 once  intelligent,  powerful,  and  wise  ;  and  be  all 
 those  in  a  degree  totally  surpassing  any  work  of 
 His  creation.  But  that  Spirit  must  either  have 
 had  a  cause,  or  be  itself  the  cause  of  all.  Even 
 if  we  take  the  former  supposition,  we  shall  only 
 conceive  a  chain  of  causes  which  leads  us  at 
 last  to  one  great  universal  cause  ^ : — a  self-existent 
 Being,  the  origin  of  all  faculties  and  power ;  and 
 this  Being  we  call  God.  Thus  far  the  mind 
 might  advance  by  the  mere  view  of  nature  ;  but 
 the  same  process  led  to  the  unity.  Reason  proved 
 that  one  God  must  exist.  It  could  prove  no 
 more  ;  and  therefore  the  heathen  plurality  of 
 gods  was  a  corruption,  generated  by  the  passions, 
 in  defiance  of  the  understanding. 
 
 '  No  metaphysical  subtlety  can  satisfy  the  human  under- 
 standing of  the  non-existence  of  a  natural  connexion  between 
 cause  and  effect.  Independently  of  the  universal  and  obvious 
 relation  of  the  vv'ords  ;  the  whole  course  of  things  presented  to  the 
 human  eye,  is  only  a  succession  of  causes  and  effects.  But  an 
 impression  so  wide  as  to  be  universal,  so  plain  as  never  to  admit 
 of  a  question  with  the  countless  majority,  and  so  immediate  as 
 to  be  instantaneous,  must  be  taken  for  the  direct  language  of 
 the  Divine  Intelligence  to  the  mind  of  man.  The  late  Dr. 
 Brown's  conception,  adopted  from  Hume,  that  it  is  merely  a 
 name  for  sequence,  is  contrary  to  all  experience ;  and,  as  Sir  J. 
 Herschel  well  observes,  he  has  committed  "  the  enormous  over- 
 sight of  forgetting  all  that  vast  class  of  causation  which  arises 
 from  the  human  will." 
 
THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD. 
 
 To  the  Jew  a  larger  knowledge  was  given  by 
 revelation.  The  moral  attributes  were  expressly- 
 declared  on  Divine  authority.  To  the  Christian 
 a  still  larger  knowledge  was  given  of  both  the 
 physical  nature  of  the  Deity,  in  the  existence  of 
 the  Trinity ;  and  the  moral  nature,  in  the  offices 
 of  the  redemption  :  both  already  shadowed  forth 
 to  the  piety  of  the  Jew ;  but  reserving  their  full 
 light  for  the  understanding  of  the  Christian. 
 
 Nor  are  we  entitled  to  conceive,  that  we  have 
 yet  reached  the  limit  of  this  knowledge.  Nothing 
 is  more  conformable  to  the  Divine  agency, 
 than  the  gradual  illustration  of  truth  according 
 to  human  fitness  for  the  discovery.  The  man 
 who  studies  Scripture  with  the  humility  and  the 
 reverence  to  which  alone  its  fulness  wall  be  ex- 
 panded, is  constantly  struck  with  indications  of 
 facts  beyond  the  direct  grasp  of  the  understand- 
 ing— the  influence  of  the  Spirit,  the  unutterable 
 prayer,  the  communion  of  saints  and  angels,  the 
 union  of  the  Deity  with  His  Church  ; — doctrines 
 which  to  our  present  knowledge  offer  no  distinct 
 idea,  but  whose  development,  when  the  mind 
 shall  be  equal  to  their  reception,  may  fill  us  with 
 the  highest  sense  of  the  Divine  grandeur,  throw 
 all  previous  knowledge  into  eclipse,  and  be  the 
 source  of  unlimited  wonder,   astonishment,  and 
 
 joy- 
 Some  of  those  developments  may  be  prepared 
 for  man,   even  on  this  side  of  the  grave.     The 
 
6  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD. 
 
 race  who  shall  live,  when  the  Divine  kingdom  is 
 complete  upon  the  earth,  and  Christianity  the 
 religion  of  all,  may  be  as  much  in  advance  of  the 
 clouded  attainments  of  our  day,  as  the  Christian 
 is  in  advance  of  the  Jew.  It  is  also  perfectly 
 conceivable,  that  this  process  will  terminate  nei- 
 ther with  our  existence  here,  nor  with  human  na- 
 ture. The  general  action  of  Providence,  the 
 moral  glory,  the  instruments  and  energies  of 
 mercy,  and  that  wondrous  part  of  the  universal 
 plan,  which  consists  in  transmuting  evil  into 
 good,  and  controuling,  without  force,  the  free 
 agency  of  created  minds,  may  offer  to  the  succes- 
 sive orders  of  spirits  a  perpetual  and  ascending 
 scale  of  knowledge,  filling  their  understandings 
 with  the  delight  of  perpetual  discovery,  and 
 raisins:  their  hearts  to  new  heiohts  of  adoration. 
 
 Even  of  the  physical  attributes  of  the  Deity, 
 constantly  as  they  are  in  operation  before  our  eyes, 
 we  know  only  enough  to  know  that  they  are  im- 
 measurable. We  give  names  to  four  or  five  ;  but 
 those  are  names  not  for  faculties,  but  for  vast 
 classes  of  faculties  ;  for  mental  and  physical  in- 
 strumentality, which  may,  and  must  be,  bound- 
 less. What  is  the  attribute  of  Omnipotence,  but 
 a  general  expression  for  distinct  powers  of  action 
 applicable  to  all  purposes  ;  and  which  may 
 amount  to  thousands  or  millions?  What  is  Om- 
 niscience ?  How  many  distinct  faculties  are 
 necessary  even  to  the  limited  knowledge  of  man ; 
 
THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD.  7 
 
 what  memory,  forecast,  judgment,  invention ; 
 what  ardour  of  imagination,  what  severe,  coun- 
 teracting controul  of  reason  ?  But  of  the  facul- 
 ties of  the  Deity  we  can  have  no  comprehension, 
 without  reference  to  the  faculties  of  man  ' ;  and 
 since  such  is  the  disposal  of  Him  by  whom  all 
 things  have  been  made  in  wisdom,  such  must  be 
 the  right  ground  of  comprehension.  What  then 
 must  be  the  variety,  force,  and  infinitude  of  the 
 faculties  essential  to  the  purposes  of  the  Creator, 
 Sustainer  and  Ruler  of  an  universe,  implying  a 
 knowledge  of  all  the  properties  of  things,  of  all 
 the  operations  of  mind,  of  all  the  past  and  the 
 future ;  the  moral  springs  and  government  of  all 
 those  ranks  of  spiritual  intelligence  which  do  his 
 bidding,  through  the  extent  of  an  empire  infinite 
 to  all  eyes  but  His  own  ;  the  coming  capabilities 
 of  existence  in  those  unknown  systems  which  are 
 yet  to  give  down  His  glory  with  perpetual  illus- 
 tration to  ages  unborn ! 
 
 The  existing  frame  of  nature  itself  seems  to 
 imply   that  He  has  attributes  of  which  we   can 
 
 ^  Hobbes,  on  the  principles  of  the  sceptical  theory,  denies 
 this  obvious  truth  in  a  curious  passage.  "  Since  knowledge 
 and  understanding  within  us  are  nothing  but  a  tumult  in  the 
 mind,  raised  by  external  things  that  press  the  organic  parts  of 
 man's  body ;  there  is  no  such  thing  in  God,  nor  can  they  be 
 attributed  to  him."  De  Give.  To  this  the  answer  is,  that 
 knowledge  exists  not  in  the  power  of  the  external  thing,  but 
 of  the  mind  which  comprehends  it.  The  contrary  establishes 
 Atheism. 
 
8  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD. 
 
 form  no  conception.  Creation  may  be  one  of 
 those.  This  faculty,  or  act,  can  scarcely  be  in- 
 cluded under  the  head  of  omnipotence ;  for  om- 
 nipotence is  but  power  in  its  fullest  extent ;  and 
 the  only  idea  of  power  conceivable  by  the  human 
 mind,  is  of  action  on  existent  things.  Creation, 
 the  calling  of  existence  out  of  nothing,  has  no 
 reference  to  any  idea  of  man  :  but,  of  all  the 
 attributes  known,  it  is  the  one  which  most 
 directly  draws  the  distinction  between  the  Divine 
 and  human  nature  ;  and  this  may  be  among  the 
 principal  purposes  for  which  it  is  developed  with 
 such  boundless  and  astonishing  magnificence  in 
 the  frame  of  present  things.  It  instantly  raises 
 the  mind  to  the  contemplation  of  a  Being  whose 
 *'  thoughts  are  not  as  our  thoughts."  All  the  other 
 known  physical  attributes,  and  all  the  moral, 
 exhibit  the  Deity  only  as  a  more  perfect  man  ; 
 the  only  view  under  which  his  excellences  can 
 be  the  object  of  human  example.  Creation  es- 
 tablishes the  impassable  line ;  all  thenceforth  is 
 separate,  mysterious,  supreme. 
 
 The  next  question  is, — for  what  purpose  was 
 the  universe  formed?  Our  chief  authorities  on 
 those  high  subjects  have  severally  held,  that  it  was 
 — for  the  Divine  glory  ; — or  for  the  delight  of  ex- 
 erting the  Divine  energies  in  production  ; — or  for 
 the  display  of  the  Divine  power.  Some  have  subor- 
 dinately  united  with  those  objects  benevolence; 
 but  the  theory  most  compatible  with  the  Divine 
 
THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD.  9 
 
 nature  is  that  which  pronounces  the  great  leading 
 purpose  to  be  benevolence.  Glory,  or  power,  as 
 primary  motives,  cannot  be  divested  in  the  human 
 mind  of  a  tinge  of  selfishness,  a  passion  incon- 
 ceivable in  the  Deity.  But  to  the  fullest  activity 
 of  beneficence  in  the  Divine  nature,  no  limit  is  to 
 be  thus  assigned.  The  mere  delight  of  calling  in- 
 telligence into  being,  of  communicating  happiness, 
 of  filling  the  void  of  space  with  ardent  existence,  of 
 raising  millions  of  millions  of  bright  and  rejoicing 
 creatures  into  consciousness,  would  be  a  motive 
 worthy  of  the  supreme  Source  of  virtue.  That 
 other  motives,  born  of  this  impulse,  might  join  in  the 
 recompense  of  this  great  act  of  heaven  ;  that  the 
 Author  of  an  universe,  pausing  from  his  work, 
 and  pronouncing  it  to  be  the  full  realization  of  his 
 own  holy  and  beneficent  idea,  might  additionally 
 feel  the  joy  of  a  parent,  the  power  of  a  sovereign, 
 and  the  still  loftier  and  more  incommunicable 
 glory  of  a  creator,  is  perfectly  consistent  with 
 supreme  perfection.  But  such  feelings  must  be  the 
 result,  not  the  origin  of  action.  The  only  word  in 
 which  God  ever  defined  his  nature  was  "  Love." 
 
 One  chief  purpose  of  the  material  universe  is 
 evidently  the  instruction  of  spirits  embodied  in 
 flesh  and  blood,  perhaps  the  lowest  rank  of  im- 
 mortals. Our  imperfect  acquaintance  with  things 
 beyond  the  range  of  matter  compels  us  to  inckide 
 all  intelligences  under  the  name  of  spirit;  yet  no- 
 thing is  more  probable  than  that,  under  this  name, 
 
10  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD. 
 
 we  unconsciously  include  vast  classes  of  exist- 
 ence fully  as  distinct  from  each  other  as  spirit  from 
 matter,  and  as  numerous  as  the  grades  of  intellect 
 between  man  and  Deity.  We  have  certain  know- 
 ledge of  at  least  three  orders  of  intelligence, 
 widely  distinct  from  each  other — man,  angel,  and 
 God ;  spirit,  incapable  of  intercourse  with  exter- 
 nal things  but  by  bodily  organs ;  spirit,  holding 
 that  intercourse  without  the  aid  of  body ;  and 
 spirit,  itself  the  supreme  Source  of  both  body  and 
 mind. 
 
 Nor  are  we  entitled  to  conceive  this  process  of 
 instruction  limited  by  the  existence  of  the  mate- 
 rial universe.  It  is  of  the  nature  of  intellect  to  be 
 in  a  constant  condition  for  the  increase  of  its  ideas. 
 Scripture  distinctly  predicts,  at  least,  one  universe 
 to  come,  totally  differing  from  the  present  in  its 
 moral  features — an  universe,  "  in  which  dwelleth 
 righteousness  ;"  sin,  or  the  capacity  of  sin,  exist- 
 ing no  more.  Even  this  simple  expression  may 
 indicate  an  immeasurable  change  in  the  whole 
 fabric  and  constitution  of  that  universe  ;  for  the 
 capability  of  falling  into  guilt  is  so  deeply  mingled 
 with  all  the  moral  qualities  of  the  present  state, 
 that  we  can  scarcely  disengage  it  from  our  idea  of 
 moral  existence  ;  and  it  practically  forms  so  large 
 and  influential  a  principle  in  the  government  of 
 the  universe,  that  its  disuse  seems  to  imply  an 
 entire  alteration  in  the  guidance  and  means  of  the 
 system.     But  why  shall  not  the  physical  change 
 
THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD.  11 
 
 be  as  conspicuous  as  the  moral  ?  We  have  dis- 
 tinct declarations,  that  even  before  the  final  sub- 
 version of  the  existing  frame  of  things,  some  ex- 
 traordinary physical  changes  are  essential  to  render 
 man  capable  of  sharing  the  perceptions  of  the  pe- 
 riod following  the  grave  ;  that  "  flesh  and  blood  " 
 cannot  enter  the  new  kingdom  of  God  ;  that  some 
 powerful  conversion  of  the  natural  body  into  what 
 is  named  "  the  spiritual,"  must  take  place  even 
 in  those  who  are  alive  at  the  second  coming  of  our 
 Lord,  and  who  are  to  be  summoned  to  immortality, 
 without  having  tasted  of  the  grave.  The  declara- 
 tion, that  the  light  "  shall  not  be  from  sun  and 
 moon,"  but  from  God  ;  imperfectly  as  it  can  yet 
 be  comprehended  by  us,  palpably  implies  a  great 
 physical  change.  Undoubtedly  the  almost  infinite 
 grandeur  of  the  existing  universe  indisposes  us  to 
 contemplate  the  extinction  of  so  astonishing  a  work 
 of  the  Divine  hand.  Yet  this  is  an  impression 
 wholly  comparative.  What  to  Omnipotence  can 
 be  the  construction  or  demolition  of  an  universe  ? 
 Labour,  contrivance,  and  costliness,  are  important 
 only  to  man.  If  the  highest  purposes  of  creation 
 are  the  intellectual  happiness  of  the  creature,  and 
 the  honour  of  the  Creator;  and  if  those  purposes 
 can  be  more  effectually  answered  by  a  succession 
 of  universes,  we  can  have  no  right  to  doubt  that 
 the  succession  will  exist.  Gravitation  is  the  lead- 
 ing physical  principle  of  our  universe.  Is  this  tiie 
 only  conceivable  principle  on  which  a  system  of 
 
12  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD. 
 
 nature  could  be  formed  ?  Might  not  phenomena 
 of  equal  beauty,  and  perfect  novelty,  be  formed  on 
 the  principle  of  a  tendency  fj^om  the  centre  ?  Might 
 not  vibration,  motion  in  curves,  and  a  hundred 
 other  modifications  of  motion,  be  adopted  as  lead- 
 ing principles,  by  Him  whose  powers  are  inex- 
 haustible ;  and  each  of  those  principles  be  followed 
 out  into  applications  of  the  most  boundless  variety, 
 the  most  profound  science,  and  the  most  stupen- 
 dous grandeur  ?  There  is  nothing  in  the  present 
 constitution  of  things,  or  in  the  known  attributes 
 of  Deity,  to  invalidate  in  the  slightest  degree  the 
 Scriptural  declarations,  that  the  "  heavens  shall 
 be  rolled  up  as  a  scroll,"  and  the  earth  be  reduced 
 to  ashes ;  that  the  whole  existing  frame,  even  to 
 its  remotest  limits,  shall  utterly  pass  away,  and 
 be  followed  by  another.  It  may  be  equally  fol- 
 lowed by  thousands,  each  opening  a  totally  new 
 treasure  of  science,  each  cheering  and  elevating 
 the  intellectual  progress  of  the  people  of  immorta- 
 lity, by  throwing  open  some  still  broader  pro- 
 vince of  knowledge  ;  each,  in  its  succession,  invi- 
 gorating and  ennobling  the  faculties  of  created 
 beings  by  some  more  illustrious  insight  into  the 
 secrets  of  power  and  wisdom  that  dwell  with  the 
 Almighty. 
 
 And  why  shall  not  the  moral  attributes  take  their 
 share  in  those  great  demonstrations  of  the  Divine 
 Essence ;  and  love,  holiness,  magnanimity,  long- 
 suffering,  each  united  with  the  physical  attribute 
 
THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD.  13 
 
 most  fitted  for  its  expansion,  be  successively 
 developed  on  the  scale  of  an  universe ;  and  con- 
 stitute a  further  unveiling  of  the  Divine  nature  '. 
 And  thus  for  ever  and  ever,  a  perpetual  dis- 
 covery of  wonders,  carrying  the  mind  forward  in 
 a  ceaseless  ardour  of  intellectual  triumph,  filling 
 the  heart  with  floods  of  happiness,  ever  swelling, 
 ever  deepening  ;  the  faculty  of  joy  still  increasing 
 with  the  possession,  an  endless  possession.  For 
 it  is  He  that  is  the  supreme  Wonder  ;  the  height 
 and  depth  of  all  wisdom ;  the  source  of  all 
 virtue,  energy,  and  science,  unfathomable  and 
 inexhaustible.  The  Scripture  phrases  of  "  grow- 
 ing from  glory  to  glory,  as  in  the  presence  of  the 
 Lord;'"  the  being  like  him,  hy  seeing  him  as  he 
 is  ;"  the  beatific  vision;  are  language  inexplicable, 
 but  by  an  elevation  of  our  nature  through  an 
 elevation  of  our  knowledge.  Thus  the  language 
 of  the  Psalmist,  the  Apostles,  and  all  those  emi- 
 
 ^  In  all  the  pursuits  even  of  human  science,  what  are  we 
 actually  studying,  but  the  Creator?  for  this  world,  or  the 
 world  of  worlds,  this  universe,  or  all  that  shall  follow,  can  be 
 but  pictures  of  the  Divine  ideas.  As  the  artist  conceives  his 
 work  before  it  is  formed,  and  the  machine  or  the  picture  is  but 
 a  second  stage  of  the  process, — a  realization  of  the  idea  already 
 living  in  the  intellect, — so  we  can  conceive  of  Deity,  only 
 that  the  ideas  of  all  things,  ever  formed,  or  to  be  formed,  are 
 present  to  his  contemplation,  and  that  the  successive  universes 
 can  only  be  disclosures  of  that  contemplation,  divine  thoughts 
 made  accessible  to  the  understanding  of  men  and  angels  : — 
 "  Nil  in  sensu,  quod  non  fuerat  prius  in  intellectu." 
 
14  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD. 
 
 nent  servants  of  the  truth,  M^ho  pronounced  that  all 
 their  happiness  was  included  in  a  nearer  access  to 
 God,  was  not  merely  holy  rapture,  but  sound  reason. 
 It  was  the  voice  of  the  most  solid  philosophy,  that 
 exclaimed,  "  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  hut  thee,'" 
 and  there  is  none  on  earth  that  I  desire  hut  thee. 
 It  is  on  this  ground  that  we  are  summoned  in 
 Scripture  to  offer  not  merely  our  obedience, 
 which  is  the  natural  return  for  the  Divine  bene- 
 ficence ;  but  our  zeal,  honour,  and  adoration  ;  that 
 we  are  commanded  to  have  God  perpetually  in 
 our  hearts,  to  burn  as  with  the  flame  of  a  living 
 altar  before  him,  to  love  him  with  our  whole 
 soul,  and  mind,  and  strength ;  a  degree  of  affec- 
 tion unrequired  for  simple  obedience,  but  justly 
 demanded,  because  the  knowledge  of  His  nature 
 is  capable  of  authenticating  the  most  entire  affec- 
 tion, zeal  and  honour. 
 
 On  the  same  ground,  we  are  commanded 
 to  "praise  him  always;"  not  that  the  praise 
 of  man  can  be  essential  to  his  glory,  nor  that 
 it  forms  even  a  strict  requisite  of  obedience ; 
 but  that  his  nature  justifies  the  most  perpetual 
 homage,  and  that  the  more  decisively  man  de- 
 votes himself  to  the  view  of  the  Divine  excel- 
 lences, the  more  he  will  find  his  thoughts  spon- 
 taneously kindling  into  adoration.  Thus  the 
 most  rigorous  conclusions  of  the  understanding, 
 and  the  most  glowing  impulses  of  the  heart, 
 coincide  in  the  scriptural  language  ;   "  Praise  ye 
 
THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD.  15 
 
 the  Lord,  praise  him  ye  servants  of  the  Lord. 
 For  /  hioiLi  that  Jehocah  is  great,  that  oiw  Lord  is 
 above  all  gods.  I  will  speak  of  the  might  of  thy 
 terrible  acts,  and  will  declare  thy  greatness.''^  It 
 is  in  this  feeling,  that,  the  heavens  are  declared 
 to  be  "  filled  with  praise  ;"  the  angelic  hymns 
 to  "  cease  not  day  or  night ;"  a  perpetual  thunder 
 of  "  Holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord  God  of  Sabaoth," 
 to  peal  from  the  millions  round  the  throne — 
 Descriptions  intended  but  to  convey  by  human 
 images,  and  but  faintly  conveying,  the  astonished 
 delight  and  overwhelming  wonder  that  envelope, 
 as  in  a  circle  of  glory,  the  races  of  spirits  per- 
 mitted to  approach  the  presence,  and  contem- 
 plate the  perfections,  of  the  Lord  of  all. 
 
CHAPTER  IT. 
 
 CREATION. 
 THE  FIRST  DAY. — In  the  beginning  god 
 
 CREATED  THE  HEAVENS  AND  THE  EARTH. 
 
 The  work  of  the  first  day  was  the  summoning 
 of  the  whole  material  universe  into  existence  by 
 the  Divine  will'.  It  has  been  idly  surmised  that 
 this  declaration  applies  only  to  our  globe  and  its 
 
 '  This  was  the  uniform  doctrine  of  the  earlier  Greek  philo- 
 sophy. That  "  the  earth  had  a  beginning,  and  was  capable  of 
 decay ;  that  the  stars  were  of  the  nature  of  fire,  and  that  the 
 soul  was  immortal,"  are  among  the  chief  tenets  wliich  Diogenes 
 Laertius  (Procemia)  ascribes  to  the  Egyptians,  the  teachers  of 
 the  early  sages  of  Greece.  Pythagoras  spent  twenty-two  years 
 in  Egypt.  Cicero  {De  Natiira  Deorum,  1.  i.  c.  25.)  states  the 
 tenet  of  Thales  to  be,  "  Aquam  esse  initium  rerum;  Deum  autem 
 earn  mentem,  quce  ex  aqua  cuncla  fingeret."  Thus  the  two  great 
 leaders  of  the  Ionic  and  Italic  schools  coincide,  and  we  have 
 the  testimony  of  Aristotle  himself,  that  all  the  philosophers 
 before  him  asserted  the  creation;  yivo^ieyov  fiEv  ovv  cnrayrec 
 tivai  <paaiv.  (De  Ccelo,  1.  i.  c.  10.)  The  word  N12  is 
 cited  by  Fagius  from  R.  Nachman,  as  the  only  word  in  the 
 Hebrew  to  express  such  a  production  out  of  nothing. 
 
CREATION.  17 
 
 atmosphere.  But  this  sense  is  totally  irrecon- 
 cileable  with  the  use  of  the  word  heaveji  in  Scrip- 
 ture,—with  the  "  thrones  and  dominations  of 
 heaven ;"  with  the  gathering  together  in  Christ  of 
 "  all  things  both  in  heaven  and  earth  ;"  with  the 
 wisdom  of  God  made  known  to  ''  the  princi- 
 palities and  powers  in  heaven;''  with  the  *'  hea- 
 ven and  the  heaven  of  heavens,"  declared  to 
 be  incapable  of  bounding  the  grandeur  of  God. 
 
 The  solar  system  has  been  as  idly  surmised  to 
 be  the  limit  of  the  declaration.  But  the  natural 
 meaning  of  the  word  "  heavens"  is  the  whole 
 region  of  the  starry  worlds.  The  text  gives  us 
 no  caution  against  taking  the  word  in  its  widest 
 meaning.  We  have  no  proof  whatever  from 
 science,  that  the  entire  universe  was  not  created 
 in  the  same  moment.  The  few  recorded  disap- 
 pearances, or  the  sudden  splendours  of  stars,  may 
 be  accounted  for  by  natural  causes  ^     There  is  as 
 
 Those  instances  are  remarkably  few  ;  and  by  the  new  ob- 
 servations of  the  double  stars,  will  probably  soon  be  accounted 
 for.  Some  of  them  may  be  revolutions  of  the  stars  round  each 
 other,  which  alternately  eclipse  and  throw  them  into  full  light. 
 Among  the  attempts  to  account  for  the  brilliancy  of  the  star  in 
 Cassiopeia  in  1572,  was  suggested  a  general  conflagration,  as 
 the  dimness  of  others  has  been  ascribed  to  a  general  deluge. 
 Undoubtedly  the  earth,  in  the  year  of  the  deluge,  must  have 
 exhibited  to  any  other  orb  capable  of  marking  the  changes  on 
 its  surface,  an  aspect  strikingly  diiFerent  from  that  of  other 
 years.  The  lost  stars  in  the  stern  of  Argo,  &c.  may  be 
 yet   discovered   in    the    course    of    some    periodic    revolution. 
 
 C 
 
18  CREATION. 
 
 little  appearance  of  decay.  To  the  investigations 
 of  the  finest  science  all  seems  to  be  as  it  was  from 
 the  beginning  ;  the  starry  system — an  illimitable 
 realm  of  worlds,  all  bearing  that  strong  general 
 similitude  of  laws,  forms,  utility,  and  beauty,  which 
 marks  them  for  the  work  of  one  Supreme  Will. 
 
 This  day  was  also  the  first  of  the  existence  of 
 Matter  \     For,  of  matter  we  have  no  conception, 
 
 Something  like  this  change  of  brilliancy  is  perceivable  even  in 
 the  planets  of  our  system  :  in  Venus  peculiarly,  there  is  a  re- 
 markable effulgence  about  once  in  a  cycle  of  seventeen  years. 
 
 *  From  the  extreme  difficulty  with  which  we  disengage  our 
 thoughts  from  material  images,  we  cannot  be  surprised,  that 
 the  eternity  of  matter  was  a  favourite  doctrine  among  the  later 
 Greek  philosophers,  and  the  heathen  world  in  general.  The 
 popular  stoic  dogma  was,  "  that  there  are  two  principles  or  origins 
 of  all  things,  an  essence  without  quality,  matter  (vXr]),  and  the 
 Divine  wisdom  (\oyoe)  which  acts  on  matter,  (Diog.  Lae'rt. 
 V.  Zenon.)  The  doctrine  of  Plato  hovers  between  the  Jewish 
 doctrine  of  creation,  and  the  popular  tenet  of  the  active  and 
 passive  principles.  Plutarch  states  him  as  saying,  O  yap  Qeoq 
 owe  ao)fia  to  aawjiarov,  ovre  \pv)(r]P  to  a\l/V)(oy  eTroirjaev.  The 
 apparent  meaning  of  which  is,  that  God  made  both  soul  and 
 body  out  of  pre-existing  essences.  Chalcidius,  on  the  Timoeus, 
 asserts  that  the  dogma  of  both  Pythagoras  and  Plato,  was 
 "  that  the  constitution  of  matter  was  tlie  work  of  providence," 
 which  may  imply  that  they  doubted  its  eternity,  if  their  tenet 
 were  not  limited  to  its  form. 
 
 The  usual  argmnent  against  the  eternity  of  matter,  is,  that  if 
 it  be  eternal,  necessary  existence  must  belong  to  it  as  well  as 
 to  God  :  if  necessary  existence,  infinite  power;  if  infinite  power, 
 it  might  create  anything,  must  be  an  active  principle,  cannot  be  a 
 passive  one ;   and  is  God,  or  may  be  many  gods.     This  argu- 
 
CREATION.  19 
 
 but  as  it  exists  within  the  visible  universe.  We 
 have  the  declaration  of  Scripture,  that  Spirit 
 existed  before ;  for  God  is  eternal,  and  angels  saw 
 the  birth  of  the  world.  "  Where  wast  thou  when 
 I  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth  ?  declare,  if 
 thou  hast  understanding.  *  *  *  *  When 
 the  morning  stars  sang  together,  and  the  sons  of 
 God  shouted  for  joy  '."  {Job  xxxvii.  4.) 
 
 And  the  Eai^th  was  without  form  and  mid,  and 
 darkness  was  upon  the  face  of  the  deep.  The  sacred 
 historian,  having  given  a  general  declaration, 
 that  the  universe  was  brought  into  existence,  and 
 brought  by  the  hand  of  God  ;  describes  our  Globe 
 in  the  state  in  which  it  was  was  left  by  that  pri- 
 mary action  ^ 
 
 ment  is  as  old  as  Tertullian.  (Advers.  Hermog.  c.  4.  j  But 
 a  more  obvious  and  succinct  refutation  is,  that  we  can  have  no 
 knowledge  of  the  eternity  of  matter,  but  by  reason  or  revela- 
 tion. Reason  compels  us  to  ascend  to  a  First  Cause ;  but  that 
 cause  must  be  intelligent,  and  active,  a  spirit.  Reason  thus 
 gives  us  no  knowledge  whatever  of  the  eternity  of  matter,  a  pas- 
 sive principle  ;  while  revelation  directly  ascribes  the  origin  of 
 all  things  to  God. 
 
 '  This  allusion  to  the  morning  stars  does  not  imply  the  exist- 
 ence of  the  heavens  previously  to  that  of  the  earth.  The  title 
 seems  to  have  designated  the  angels,  spectators  of  the  rising 
 universe,  or  perhaps  still  higher  natures.  It  is  borne  by  the 
 Redeemer  himself,  in  the  Apocalypse,  as  the  source  of  spiritual 
 light  and  joy  ;  "  I  am  the  root,  and  the  offspring  of  David,  and 
 the  bright  and  morning  star  J"     (Revel,  xxii.  IG.) 
 
 *  The  Hebrew  names  of  the  heaven  and  earth,  are  derived 
 merely  from   their  relative    position ;    (a   confirmation   of  the 
 
 c  2 
 
20  CREATION. 
 
 Its  first  aspect  is  that  of  a  mass  of  matter  un- 
 inhabited by  any  form  of  life,  and  covered  with 
 waters,  and  utter  darkness.  But  a  second  energy 
 of  the  Divine  will,  suddenly  comes  to  change  this 
 aspect,  and  Light  starts  into  existence  by  a  simple 
 command,  whose  expression  is  the  sublime  of 
 power.  "  God  said  let  there  be  light,  and  there 
 was  light'."  Whether  this  new  and  wondrous 
 product  was  educed  from  matter  ;  or  was  the  work 
 of  a  new  creative  act,  as  might  almost  be  conceived 
 from  the  peculiarity  of  the  Divine  command  : 
 its  general  dissimilitude  to  matter,  its  splendour 
 and  subtlety,  its  absence  of  all  weight  and  all 
 impulse,  the  instantaneousness  of  its  production, 
 diffusion,  and  extinction,  place  it  on  the  verge  of 
 immateriality ;  unless,  with  gravitation,  elec- 
 tricity, and  their  kindred  influences,  it  forms 
 an  actual  class  between  matter  and  spirit  \     But 
 
 originality  of  the  language.)  The  heaven,  Hashamaim,  from 
 WW  sublimis  fuit.  The  earth,  Haaretz,  from  Y^i*  depressus 
 fuit. 
 
 '  Light,  Aur  "ni>J  the  fruitful  parent  of  words  expressive  of 
 brightness,  dawn,  &c.  Aurora,  Aurum,  Orior,  Orion,  &c.  The 
 names  of  the  portions  of  the  day  are  all  descriptive,  and  exhibit 
 a  primitive  language.  Morning,  ( Bachar)  is  the  fissure,  or 
 opening  oi  the  skies;  1p^  fidit.  Evening,  (Gnarab)  is  the 
 gentle  subsidence,  or  setting  of  day,  2,1V  leniter  subiit.  Dark- 
 ness, (Koshek)  is  awe  or  terror,  *]Ii^n  horruit. 
 
 *  The  velocity  of  the  gravific  fluid,  or  influence  on  which 
 gravitation  depends,  has  been  calculated  by  the  French  astrono- 
 mers at  several  thousand  times  that  of  light,  and  by  others  at 
 several  millions. 
 
CREATION.  21 
 
 ajiother  extraordinary   phenomenon  was  now   to 
 be  evolved. 
 
 "  God  saw  the  light,  that  it  was  good  ; 
 AND  God  divided  the  light  from  the  darkness; 
 AND  God  called  the  light  day,  and  the  dark- 
 ness he  called  night  ;  and  the  evening  and 
 the  morning  were  the  first  day." 
 
 This  was  the  first  existence  of  Motion  ;  for  we 
 can  have  no  idea  of  motion  previously  to  matter. 
 It  requires  extension,  shape,  impulse;  all  qualities 
 of  matter  alone.  The  motion  of  spirit  is  a  con- 
 tradiction in  terms.  What  can  be  the  motion  of 
 bodiless  intelligence  ?  The  appointment  of  day 
 and  night  implies  the  revolution  of  the  globe  : 
 the  commencement  of  motion  in  the  earth  and  in 
 the  universe.  For  it  is  only  by  that  revolution 
 that  day  and  night  can  possibly  interchange 
 round  the  globe. 
 
 The  subject  has  been  perplexed  by  the  common 
 error  of  assuming  that  the  sun  and  stars  were  not 
 created  until  the  third  day ;  and  that  light  must 
 thus  have  existed  without  a  source  or  centre,  and 
 the  division  of  time  must  have  equally  anticipated 
 its  measures  \     But  the  difficulty  disappears,  by 
 
 *  Some  ingenious  efforts  have  been  made  to  reconcile  the 
 narrative  with  the  supposition  that  Light  was  formed  before 
 the  Sun ;  but  they  are  unnecessary,  and  they  are  ineffectual. 
 That  light  may  exist  independently  of  the  Sun,  is  a  matter  of 
 common  experience  :  but  we  have  no  instance  of  light  existing 
 
22  CREATION. 
 
 our  following  the  plain  intimations  of  the  histo- 
 rian. He  tells  us,  that  the  first  act  of  creation 
 produced  "the  heavens  and  the  earth."  We 
 have  no  right  to  limit  this  declaration,  and  doubt 
 that  it  produced  alike  sun,  stars,  and  our  globe ; 
 and  we  have  no  right  to  go  beyond  the  declara- 
 tion, and  suppose  that  any  orb  of  the  universe 
 existed  at  that  moment,  but,  like  our  own,  in 
 utter  darkness.  All  had  now  felt  the  influence  of 
 light  together  ;  the  suns,  as  central  reservoirs  and 
 founts  of  illumination,  pouring  it  on  the  planets  ; 
 and  the  planets,  reflecting  it  on  each  other  and 
 the  suns.  But  another  great  act  was  required  : 
 for  we  have  no  indication  whatever,  that  the  uni- 
 verse was  created  in  movement. 
 
 If  the  systems  had  remained  stationary,  there 
 would  have  been  an  equal  eflTulgence  of  light ;  but 
 the  planetary  hemispheres  exposed  to  the  central 
 orbs,  must  have  been  dazzled  by  perpetual  splendour 
 and  unmitigated  fire ;  while  the  opposite  hemis- 
 pheres must  have  withered  in  perpetual  ice  and 
 night.  One  half  of  every  star  or  planet  of  the  solar 
 system,  and  of  every  system  formed  on  the  same 
 principles,  must  have  been  totally  lost  to  the  pur- 
 poses of  existence  ;  half  an  universe  a  waste  ;  or 
 
 totally  jier  se,  without  any  substratum  whatever.  Nor  can  we 
 conceive  the  light  ombodied  in  a  cloud,  sufficient  to  illumine 
 the  globe  ;  and  not  merely  the  globe,  but  the  solar  system  ;  for 
 to  this  extent  the  expedient  must  go,  if  it  is  to  be  the  substitute 
 for  the  Sun. 
 
CREATION.  23 
 
 the  waste  must  have  been  quickened  by  a  totally 
 new  course  of  divine  expediency.  Each  inhabited 
 globe  must  then  have  contained  two  races  of 
 beings,  as  distinct  in  their  natures  as  fire  and  frost, 
 — excessive  light  and  excessive  darkness.  The 
 inferior  animals,  and  the  plants,  in  every  habitat, 
 product,  and  instinct,  must  be  essentially  and 
 irreconcileably  diiferent ;  and  man,  and  the  beings 
 analogous  to  man  in  the  other  planets,  must  be 
 divided,  in  all  instances,  into  two  vast  discordan- 
 cies, as  incapable  of  mutual  aid  or  association,  as 
 the  inhabitants  of  the  Earth  and  Saturn.  But,  to 
 give  him  the  full  range  of  his  world,  to  endow 
 him  with  the  opulence  of  all  its  regions,  to  sus- 
 tain his  powers  and  enrich  his  nature  with  the 
 still  nobler  opulence  of  sympathy,  and  intercourse 
 with  the  whole  family  of  human  existence,  was 
 the  work  of  a  single  expedient — the  earth  re- 
 volved ! 
 
 It  is  remarkable  that  this  expedient,  simple  as 
 it  appears,  remains  among  the  most  inexplicable 
 portions  of  the  mechanism  of  nature.  The  revo- 
 lution of  the  globe  on  its  axis  is  not  the  result  of 
 any  force  yet  known  to  Science.  And  it  has  had 
 the  still  more  striking  peculiarity  of  continuing, 
 from  age  to  age,  without  the  slightest  deviation. 
 
 This  almost  miraculous  exactitude  was  neces- 
 sary to  the  well-being  of  the  world ;  for,  of  all 
 the  incidental  changes  of  nature,  perhaps  the 
 most  formidable  would  be  a  change  in  the  mea- 
 
24  CREATION. 
 
 sure  of  the  daily  rotation.  The  increase  of  a 
 second  a  day  since  the  creation^  would  not  merely 
 break  up  every  calculation,  and  embarrass  the 
 general  order  of  society,  but  totally  destroy  the 
 adaptation  of  animal  and  vegetable  life  to  the  course 
 of  nature.  But  it  must  also  be  a  force  perpetually 
 renewed  ;  for  the  friction  of  the  atmosphere,  visi- 
 ble in  the  effect  of  the  trade  winds  ;  the  tides,  and 
 even  so  slight  an  impulse  as  the  various  flowing 
 of  the  rivers  on  its  surface,  must  be  felt  in  a  long 
 series  of  years.  Still,  the  motion  is  inflexibly 
 sustained ;  and  this  sustentation  must  proceed 
 from  the  perpetual  impress  of  some  physical 
 agency,  which  has  hitherto  bafiled  the  researches 
 of  man. 
 
 THE  SECOND  DAY.— God  said.  Let  there 
 
 BE  A  FIRMAMENT  IN  THE  MIDST  OF  THE  WATERS, 
 AND  LET  IT  DIVIDE  THE  WATERS  FROM  THE  WATERS. 
 
 This  act  was  the  formation  of  the  atmosphere. 
 The  air,  let  loose  to  expand  by  its  own  elasticity, 
 was  seen  upraising  the  waters  by  its  property  of 
 attracting  vapour  and  holding  it  in  solution  and 
 suspension.  Thus  was  constituted  the  region  of 
 the  clouds,  the  vp*!'  the  ffrepew/ua,  the  fixed  re- 
 servoir of  the  rains,  the  great  covering  and  canopy 
 
 *  The  calculation  is  obvious,  that  even  the  hundredth  part  of 
 a  second  a  day,  would,  in  six  thousand  years,  amount  to  a 
 change  of  six  hours. 
 
CREATION.  25 
 
 of  the  globe '  :  the  whole  preparatory  to  laying 
 open  the  land,  which  it  was  thenceforth  to  shade 
 and  fertilize'.  The  history  still  preserves  the  au- 
 thoritative phrase  that  marks  the  power  of  the 
 Creator.  The  command  is  given,  and  it  is  in- 
 evitably fulfilled.  God  said,  "  Let  there  be  a 
 firmament ;  and  it  was  so.''  This  vast  region  of 
 air  and  clouds  henceforth  shares  the  name  of  hea- 
 ven with  those  higher  regions,  whose  existence 
 was  the  first  act  of  creation.  The  air  and  clouds 
 constitute  all  of  heaven  that  presents  itself  to  the 
 eye  of  man  during  the  chief  portion  of  his  daily 
 existence  ;  the  absence  of  the  sun  alone  opens  to 
 us  the  expanse  of  the  true  skies ;  the  heaven  of 
 the  globe  passes  away,  and  we  see  the  heaven  of 
 the  universe. 
 
 *  "  Nomen  Rachang  non  erit  expansum,  sed  firmatum,  seu, 
 ut  vocabulo  Vulgatse  utar,  Jirmamentum.  Atmosphaera  nubes 
 portans.  In  Ezek.  i.  21,  &c.  basis,  pavimentum,  currus  Dei." 
 Michaelis,  Swpplem.  ad  Lex.  Heb.  2386. 
 
 ^  The  suspension  of  so  immense  a  weight  of  waters  in  the 
 sky,  has  been  an  old  and  a  just  source  of  wonder.  "  Quid  esse 
 mirabilius  potest  aquis  in  coelo  stantibus,"  is  the  well-known 
 and  natural  exclamation  of  Pliny. — Hist.  Natt.  31. 
 
 The  evaporating  power  of  the  air  is  enormous.  Dalton  calcu- 
 lates the  annual  evaporation  from  the  surface  of  England  and 
 Wales  alone  at  115  millions  of  tons.  The  evaporation  of  the 
 Mediterranean  carries  off  the  whole  volume  of  water  forced  into 
 it  by  all  the  great  rivers.  It  is  even  calculated  that  the 
 quantity  of  water  suspended  in  the  air  is  equal  to  that  of  the 
 ocean. 
 
26  CREATION. 
 
 THE  THIRD  DAY.— '' And  God  said,   Let 
 
 THE  WATERS  UNDER  THE  HEAVEN  BE  GATHERED 
 TOGETHER  INTO  ONE  PLACE,  AND  LET  THE  DRY 
 LAND  appear;    AND  IT  WAS  SO." 
 
 On  this  day  was  to  be  displayed  that  surprising 
 and  most  beautiful  spectacle,  the  first  organiza- 
 tion of  life.  While  the  waters  of  the  firmament 
 were  left  to  range  unconfined  over  their  vast  re- 
 gion, the  waters  still  remaining  on  the  globe  were 
 to  be  restricted  within  a  boundary.  But  this  re- 
 striction implies  that  a  receptacle  must  have  been 
 provided  for  them,  and  the  surface  of  the  globe 
 broken  in,  to  a  great  depth  and  extent,  before 
 they  could  have  left  any  large  portion  of  the  earth 
 free.  By  whatever  means  this  immense  disrup- 
 tion was  effected,  whether  by  the  volcano  and  the 
 earthquake,  or  by  still  fiercer  instruments  of  con- 
 struction and  change,  the  formation,  in  a  single 
 day,  of  an  abyss  for  the  reception  of  a  body  of 
 waters  sufficient  to  cover  the  globe,  must  have 
 been  a  work  of  the  most  tremendous  violence  and 
 rapidity.  The  clearest  fact  in  geology,  perhaps 
 the  only  clear  fact  in  geology,  is — that  the  present 
 dry  land  was  the  bed  of  the  ancient  ocean.  What 
 must  be  the  force  which  could  plunge  all  our  ex- 
 isting continents,  with  all  their  mountains,  in  a 
 day,  perhaps  in  an  instant,  to  a  depth  of,  at  least, 
 four  miles;   perhaps  of  much    more  ^     And  we 
 
 *  Dr.  Young  computes  the  mean  depth  of  the  Atlantic  at  three 
 miles,  and  of  the  Pacific  at  four,   (Lectures)  ;   and   the  French 
 
 7 
 
CREATION.  27 
 
 have  proof,  that  this  could  not  have  been  a  mere 
 uniform  subsidence.  The  whole  ocean-bed  was 
 probably  in  a  state  of  the  most  violent  disruption 
 in  all  its  parts ;  for  the  fractures  and  positions  of 
 our  present  strata  are  anterior  to  the  Deluge.  Yet 
 none  of  the  countless  wonders  of  the  Divine  hand 
 in  our  world  are  more  demonstrative  of  a  provision 
 for  the  future,  than  this  permitted  fury  of  the  ele- 
 ments. In  this  very  convulsion  there  was  the 
 finest  forecast  for  the  wants  of  unborn  mankind, 
 not  merely  of  the  race  about  to  be  formed,  but  of 
 the  generations  who  were  to  come  into  existence 
 only  when  the  Antediluvian  generations  and  their 
 world  had  passed  away  together.  Nothing  is 
 more  obvious,  than  that  from  this  disruption  arise 
 the  chief  capabilities  of  our  earth.  To  this  we 
 owe  our  wells  and  rivers,  the  easy  access  to  the 
 varieties  of  metals,  to  all  the  clays  and  materials 
 of  fertilizing  the  soil,  to  coal,  marble,  gems,  and 
 a  multitude  of  products  indispensable  to  human 
 use  or  enjoyment,  which,  if  buried  in  concentric 
 layers,  must  have  chiefly  lain  at  depths  beyond 
 human  labour,  but  are  now,  by  the  general  up- 
 breaking  and  commixture  of  the  strata,  brought 
 within  the  reach  of  man. 
 
 philosophers  (La  Place,  &c.)  calculate  the  average  depth  of  the 
 ocean  at  four  miles.  Other  authorities  give  it  depths  even  to 
 eleven.  It  has  been  asserted,  that  a  less  depth  than  eleven 
 ■would  be  unequal  to  account  for  the  lunar  influence  on  the 
 tides. 
 
28  CREATION. 
 
 We  may  go  further  still,  and  discover  even 
 a  more  minute  and  direct  forecast  in  some  of 
 the  most  remarkable  and  important  products  of 
 the  Earth,  as  in  gold,  iron,  and  coal.  The 
 purpose  of  gold  seems  to  have  been,  expressly, 
 to  supply  an  universal  medium  of  exchange,  an 
 use  evidently  of  the  first  necessity  to  the  inter- 
 course of  nations.  If  gold  were  a  metal  of  less 
 beauty,  greater  bulk,  or  greater  abundance,  it 
 would  be  equally  unfitted  for  this  purpose.  By 
 its  possession  of  the  due  share  of  all  those 
 qualities,  it  has,  from  the  earliest  ages  to  this 
 hour,  constituted  the  chief  standard  of  value. 
 But,  as  its  use  was  to  be  universal,  so  is  its 
 existence.  There  is  scarcely  a  region  of  the  earth 
 in  which  gold  is  not  found.  The  greater  wealth 
 of  the  Brazilian  mines  has  turned  the  general  eye 
 for  a  while  from  the  produce  of  the  old  con- 
 tinents ;  but  gold  is  found  from  the  arctic  to  the 
 equator,  and  from  the  equator  to  the  southern 
 limits  of  life. 
 
 Iron  is  the  great  instrument  of  power,  as  gold 
 is  of  civilization  ;  and  this  tamer  of  the  earth,  and 
 controuler  of  man,  useful  in  every  region  of  the 
 globe,  is  accordingly  found  in  all.  But  coal  exhi- 
 bits a  striking  discrepancy.  Though  an  essential 
 of  life  in  the  colder  temperatures,  it  would,  as  a 
 producer  of  heat,  be  thrown  away  on  one  half  of 
 the  globe  ;  in  consequence,  it  is  seldom  found  but 
 in  the  colder  regions,  and  it  is  found  nearly  in  them 
 
CREATION.  29 
 
 all.  A  double  chain  of  coal  formations  appears 
 to  circle  the  v/orld  to  the  north  and  south  of  the 
 tropics.  Coal  is  found  in  a  line  extending  from 
 the  British  isles  through  the  Netherlands,  Ger- 
 many, and  Hungary,  to  the  Euxine,  through  Tar- 
 tary,  China,  and  North  America  ;  it  is  found  in 
 New  South  Wales,  and  probably  waits  only  for 
 the  investigation  of  the  wildernesses  stretching  to 
 the  Straits  of  Magellan,  and  of  the  southern 
 polar  islands,  to  exhibit  the  same  presence  of  a 
 mineral  palpably  provided  to  arm  man  against  the 
 inclemencies  of  earth  and  sky. 
 
 The  "  one  place  "  into  which  "  all  the  waters 
 under  the  firmament  were  gathered  together " 
 was  now  a  vast  bed  of  dislocated  and  disrupted 
 strata,  left  thenceforth  to  the  regular  action  of  the 
 tides  and  currents  in  their  various  agencies  of 
 dissolving,  blending,  and  recombining,  for  a  pe- 
 riod of  more  than  two  thousand  years  ;  when,  the 
 process  being  complete,  and  the  sea-bed  fitted  for 
 the  support  of  human  life,  the  ocean  was  poured 
 back  upon  the  land,  and  the  former  bed,  elevated 
 to  its  original  level,  finally  became  the  world,  to 
 be  inhabited  by  the  new  generations  of  mankind'. 
 
 *  The  sterility  of  the  antediluvian  world,  which,  though  a 
 special  infliction  for  the  first  crime,  was  yet  doubtless  provided 
 for  by  the  physical  constitution  of  the  surface,  may  probably  be 
 explained  by  the  absence  of  this  disruption  of  the  strata.  A  land, 
 overspread  with  one  uniform  layer  of  soil,  must  have  soon  become 
 barren.    The  general  barbarism  too,  may  be,  in  some  degree, 
 
30  CREATION. 
 
 This  original  violent  formation  of  the  great  sea- 
 bed is  commemorated  in  one  of  the  noblest  effu- 
 sions of  sacred  poetry — "  O  Lord,  my  God  !  Thou 
 art  clothed  with  honour  and  majesty.  Who  laid- 
 est  \he  foundations  of  the  earth,  that  it  should  not 
 be  removed  for  ever.  Thou  coveredst  it  with  the 
 deep,  as  with  a  garment:  the  waters  stood  above  the 
 mountains.  At  thy  rebuke  they  fled.  At  the  voice 
 of  thy  thunder  they  hasted  away.  They  went  over 
 the  mountains;  they  went  down  by  the  valleys 
 into  the  place  w^hich  thou  didst  found  for  them. 
 Thou  didst  set  a  bound  which  they  should  not  pass 
 over."  (Psalm  civ.)\ 
 
 The  land  was  now  left  open ;  and  by  an 
 additional  act  of  the  Divine  will,  it  was  instantly 
 covered  with  the  three  great  classes  of  vegetable 
 life — the  grass,  the  shrub,  and  the  tree,  all  marked 
 as  equally  starting  into  existence,  and  their  organi- 
 zation as   being  complete,  not  simpler  for  imme- 
 
 accounted  for  by  the  want  of  the  minerals.  The  discovery  of 
 iron  is  alluded  to  only  at  a  period  but  little  before  the  Deluge. 
 
 '  The  Jewish  commentators  expressly  refer  this  detail  to 
 the  original  act  of  Deity.  Amama  says — "  We  perceive  that 
 this  description  regards  the  face  of  the  earth  at  the  Creation.'" 
 Aben  Ezra,  in  guarding  against  a  probable  error,  further  con- 
 firms the  opinion  :  "  But  some  one  perhaps  will  say,  that  the 
 waters  returned  at  the  Deluge.  I  reply,  that  we  are  to  under- 
 stand this  passage  of  the  order  of  nature.  The  Deluge  was  the 
 exception."  The  language  of  the  text  declaring  the  original 
 command, — "  thus  far  shalt  thou  go,"  also  appears  to  apply 
 directly  to  the  Creation. 
 
CREATION.  31 
 
 diate  support,  but  for  the  continuance  of  their 
 species  :  the  herb  "  yielding  seed  after  its  kind," 
 and  the  "  tree  yielding  the  fruit"  which  contained 
 the  seed,  "  after  its  kind."  The  wild  and  bare 
 globe  exhibited  a  sudden  clothing  of  colour  and 
 beauty,  vivid,  prolific,  and  perpetual. 
 
 Another  extraordinary  change  was  now  to 
 be2:in,  extending;  throuo;h  the  Universe — the  mo- 
 tion  of  the  heavenly  bodies  in  their  orbits. 
 
 THE  FOURTH  DAY.— God  said,  Let  there 
 
 BE  LIGHTS  IN  THE  FIRMAMENT  OF  HEAVEN  TO  DI- 
 VIDE the  day  from  the  night,  and  let  THEM  BE 
 FOR  SIGNS  AND  FOR  SEASONS,  AND  FOR  DAYS  AND 
 YEARS.  And  let  them  be  for  LIGHTS  IN  THE 
 FIRMAMENT  OF   THE    HEAVEN  TO  GIVE   LIGHT  UPON 
 
 THE  EARTH,   AND  IT  WAS  SO. AnD  GoD  MADE 
 
 TWO  GREAT  LIGHTS,  THE  GREATER  LIGHT  TO  RULE 
 THE  DAY,  AND  THE  LESSER  LIGHT  TO  RULE  THE 
 NIGHT ;    THE  STARS  ALSO. 
 
 The  distinction  of  day  and  night  had  been  made 
 on  the  first  day.  That  distinction  implied  the 
 revolution  of  the  earth  on  its  axis ;  for,  without  it, 
 evening  and  morning  could  not  have  existed.  But 
 another  species  of  motion  was  now  to  be  commu- 
 nicated to  the  planetary  system,  and,  so  far  as  our 
 knowledge  extends,  to  all  systems — the  movement 
 of  the  inferior  orbs  round  their  suns.  On  this 
 day  the  lights  of  heaven  were  appointed  to  distin- 
 guish seasons  and  years,  as   well   as  days.     But 
 
32  CREATION. 
 
 seasons  and  years  altogether  result  from  the  revo- 
 lution of  the  planets  round  the  central  luminary: 
 the  seasons  depending  on  the  approacli  to  or 
 recess  from  the  sun,  combined  with  the  position 
 of  the  axis,  and  the  year  being  only  the  name 
 of  the  period  employed  in  that  circuit.  That  the 
 Deity  could  impress  the  motion  round  the  axis  on 
 the  first  day,  and  withhold  the  motion  round  the 
 sun  until  the  fourth,  is  as  conceivable  as  that  they 
 are  totally  separate  in  their  direction,  and  given 
 for  palpably  distinct  purposes.  This  was  the  first 
 communication  of  those  influences  which,  in  the 
 want  of  clearer  terms,  we  call  centrifugal  and  cen- 
 tripetal. Needless  perplexity  has  been  produced 
 by  the  common  error  of  conceiving,  that  on  this 
 day  the  sun  and  stars  were  formed.  The  text 
 refers,  not  to  their  creation,  but  to  their  uses. 
 The  heavens  were  called  into  being  on  the  first 
 day  ;  an  expression  destitute  of  all  meaning,  if  it 
 does  not  mean  the  heavenly  bodies.  Those  bodies 
 on  the  fourth  day  were  invested  with  new  quali- 
 ties for  a  new  character  :  they  were  rendered  the 
 measures  of  time.  The  sun  and  moon  alternately 
 illumining  the  earth,  were  now  especially  appointed 
 as  the  dividers  of  the  year  and  the  month  — "  the 
 stars  also."  The  words  he  made,  in  our  trans- 
 lation, are  not  warranted  by  the  original.  The 
 true  meaning  is,  that  the  stars  were,  in  their  de- 
 gree, now  employed  in  the  same  character  with 
 the  two  luminaries  pecuharly  presiding  over  night 
 
CREATION.  33 
 
 and  day  :  they  were  also  givers  of  light,  and 
 dividers  of  seasons '.  In  our  vapoury  skies,  the  stars 
 are  comparatively  obscure ;  but  in  three-fourths 
 of  the  earth,  and  eminently  in  the  regions  near  and 
 between  the  tropics,  their  use  has  been  felt  from 
 the  first  ages  ;  there,  they  not  merely  give  a  light 
 sufficient  for  night  travel,  but  by  their  risings  and 
 settings,  both  dependent  on  the  daily  motion  of 
 the  earth,  they  supply  an  unerring  dial  of  the 
 night  hours ;  and,  by  their  place  in  the  heavens, 
 announce  the  seasons,  and  even  designate  periods 
 of  those  seasons  highly  important  to  man.  In  the 
 east,  they  are  the  silent  and  lovely  friends  of  the 
 
 '  The  distinction  between  the  light  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
 and  the  nse  to  which  it  was  first  applied,  on  the  fourth  day,  is 
 perfectly  marked  in  the  original.  In  the  former  instance,  the 
 word  is,  "T)K,  simply  light ;  in  the  latter,  it  is  Jn")i<iD,  light- 
 bearers,  depositories  of  illumination.  The  Septuagint  has  0wc 
 and  ^werrripec,  which  bear  the  same  relation.  Rosenmuller  is 
 decided  on  this  appropriation  of  the  stars  to  the  fourth  day, 
 merely  as  to  their  uses :  "  De  determinatione  astrorum  ad  certos 
 quosdam  usus  orbi  terrarum  praestandos  esse  sermonem  (constat) 
 non  de  eorum  productione." — p.  61. 
 
 That  the  sun  and  moon  were  created  on  the  Jirst  day  is  the 
 Hebrew  opinion.  "  Hebraei  dicunt  solem  et  Lunam  creates 
 fuisse  primo  die.  Hebraei  solis  fuisse  (primam)  lucem  intelli- 
 gunt,  quod  sol  sit  fons  et  origo  lucis.  (Critici  Sacri,  in  Gen.  3.) 
 
 The  ingenious  conception  of  Frank  (Chronologia  Fundamen- 
 tnlis)  that  on  the  fourth  day  alone  the  moon  could  be  visible  for 
 the  first  time  to  the  earth,  depends  on  the  supposition,  that  on 
 the  first  day  the  moon  was  directly  in  a  line  between  the  sun 
 and  the  earth,  of  which  we  can  have  no  knowledge. 
 
 D 
 
34  CREATION. 
 
 traveller,  the  mariner,  and  the  husbandman ;  as 
 they  are  to  us,  the  book  of  the  sublimest  science 
 of  the  philosopher ;  and  to  all,  the  writing  of  the 
 finger  of  God  in  the  skies. 
 
 THE  FIFTH  DAY.— Another  admirable  evi- 
 dence of  the  Divine  power  was  now  to  be  given — 
 the  connexion  of  animal  life  with  matter. 
 
 "  And  God  said,  Let  the  waters  bring  forth  abun- 
 dantly the  moving  creature  that  hath  life,  and  fowl 
 that  may  fly  above  the  earth  i?i  the  open  firmament 
 of  heaven. 
 
 "  And  God  created  great  lohales,  and  every  liv- 
 ing creature  that  moveth,  which  the  waters  brought 
 forth  abundantly  after  their  kind,  and  every  winged 
 fowl  after  his  kind:  and  God  saw  that  it  was 
 good. 
 
 ^^  And  God  blessed  them,  saying,  Be  fruitful, 
 and  multiply,  and  fill  the  waters  in  the  seas,  and  let 
 fowl  multiply  in  the  earth.  And  the  evening  and 
 the  morning  were  the  fifth  day.'' 
 
 The  connexion  of  animal  life  with  organized 
 body  instantly  overthrows  the  whole  modern  and 
 mechanical  system  of  aggregation.  The  construc- 
 tion of  a  living  body  cannot  be  gradual.  The 
 frame  must  be  formed  in  all  its  parts  at  once, 
 before  it  can  exercise  the  common  functions  of 
 life.  The  whale,  that,  with  its  fins  finished,  must 
 wait  a  hundred  or  a  thousand  years  for  the  finish- 
 ing of  its  lungs  by  the  "  course  of  nature  ;"  must 
 
CREATION.  30 
 
 wait  for  ever.  The  infant,  born  with  half  a  brain 
 and  half  a  heart,  must  die  before  he  could  think 
 or  move.  The  living-  machine  may  increase  in 
 size,  strength,  or  faculty,  but  it  must  be  set  in 
 action  complete,  or  not  at ^  all.  And  this  com- 
 pleteness, in  the  first  instance,  was  Creation,  the 
 result  of  a  primary  and  direct  volition  of  the 
 Deity. 
 
 THE  SIXTH  DAY.— A  higher  rank  of  exist- 
 ence was  now  to  follow,  in  the  tribes  of  terrestrial 
 animals. 
 
 *' And  God  said,  let  the  earth  bring  forth  the 
 living  creature  after  his  kind ;  cattle,  and  creeping 
 thing,  and  beast  of  the  earth  after  his  kind :  and  it 
 was  so.'' 
 
 The  earth  thus  filled  with  plants,  and  with  living 
 forms  and  embodied  minds,  was  next  to  witness 
 the  perfection  of  living  form  united  to  the  highest 
 order  of  earthly  mind.  Man  was  to  be  created, 
 the  sovereign  of  earth,  its  products,  and  its  ani- 
 mals. 
 
 "'And  God  said,  let  iis  make  man  in  our  image, 
 after  our  likeness  :  and  let  them  have  dominion  over 
 the  fish  of  the  sea,  and  over  the  fowl  of  the  air, 
 and  over  the  cattle,  and  over  all  the  earth,  and  over 
 every  creeping  thing  that  creepeth  upon  the  earth. 
 So  God  created  man  in  his  own  image,  in  the  image 
 of  God  created  he  him  ;  male  and  female  created  he 
 them/' 
 
 D  2 
 
36  CREATION. 
 
 The  consultation  of  God,  if  we  may  so  speak, 
 on  the  formation  of  man,  "  Let  us  make  man  ;" 
 the  breathing  of  a  soul,  the  D''''n  nt2^^  into  his 
 frame,  which  was  done  in  his  instance  alone  ; 
 his  declared  production  by  the  hand  of  God,  while 
 all  the  inferior  animals  were  brought  forth  by  the 
 earth  and  waters  ;  his  limitation  to  a  single  spe- 
 cies, and  of  that  species  but  two  individuals,  while 
 the  other  living  creatures  were  brought  forth  in 
 multitude  and  variety,  "  abundantly  after  their 
 kinds;"  establish  a  strong  physical  distinction 
 between  the  human  race  and  all  the  other  inha- 
 bitants of  the  globe. 
 
 His  formation  in  the  "  image  of  God"  establishes 
 a  distinction  of  a  higher  kind.  The  "image" 
 has  been  variously  argued  to  imply  form,  intellect, 
 and  immortality.  It  probably  means  none  of  the 
 three.  It  cannot  be  form,  for  what  has  form  to 
 do  with  the  Divine  mind  ?  The  form  of  the  Re- 
 deemer was  borrowed  from  human  nature.  It 
 cannot  be  intellect,  for  man  shares  intellect  with 
 the  lower  animals  ;  nor  immortality,  for  man,  be- 
 fore the  fall,  was  not  essentially  immortal.  It  is 
 clearly  some  power  or  property  shut  up  from  all 
 lower  existence.  The  only  known  attribute  of  this 
 order  is  moral  perception.  Brutes  intellectually 
 differ  from  man  less  in  kind  than  in  degree.  They 
 partially  reason  and  remember,  they  love,  hate, 
 desire,  and  fear.  But  who  has  ever  discovered  a 
 moral  sense  among  the  inferior  races  ?   Who  talks 
 
CREATION.  37 
 
 of  the  sin  or  virtue  of  a  brute  ?  Duty,  merit,  right 
 and  wrong,  are  words  inapplicable  to  all  below 
 man  :  yet  on  those  words  is  founded  incomparably 
 the  largest  share  of  the  motives,  obligations,  and 
 stimulants  to  effort  among  mankind.  They  are 
 the  names  of  the  great  provinces  of  human  action. 
 But  Revelation  decides  the  question  at  once.  The 
 express  language  of  Christianity  is,  that  the  re- 
 newal of  holiness  in  the  human  heart  is — the  re- 
 newal of  the  Divine  image*.  "  Put  on  the  new 
 man,  which  is  renewed  in  knowledge,  after  the 
 image  of  Him  that  created  him\''  Holiness  and  the 
 Divine  image  are  identical ;  "Be  renewed,"  again 
 says  the  Apostle,  "  in  the  spirit  of  your  mind,  and 
 
 *  Even  in  the  succinct  narrative  of  Genesis  there  is  a  palpable 
 distinction.  The  passage  in  which  the  formation  "  in  the  image 
 of  God"  is  declared,  is  fully  separated  from  that  which  states 
 his  physical  formation.  In  the  former  the  language  is,  "  Let 
 us  make  man  in  our  image,  after  our  likeness,  and  let  him  have 
 dominion"  over  all  that  the  earth  produces  ;  thus  qualifying 
 him  to  exercise  every  duty  that  government  implies, — direction, 
 protection,  provision,  &c.  as  much  as  enjoyment  for  his  own 
 use,  over  the  world  :  a  moral  exercise,  as  well  as  a  physical 
 possession.  The  image  is  also  expressly  extended  to  both  sexes. 
 (Gen.  i.  26.  27.)  But,  in  the  subsequent  chapter  the  process 
 of  man's  formation  is  described,  without  any  mention  of  his 
 authority :  "  And  the  Lord  God  formed  man  of  the  dust  of  the 
 ground  ;  and  breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life  ;  and 
 man  became  a  living  soul ;"  the  expression  living  soul,  li^3J, 
 is  equally  applied  to  brutes,  (Gen.  i.  30,)     In  the  Septuagint 
 
 it  is  »//vx'?  ^^VS- 
 ^  Colos.  iii.  10. 
 
38  CREATION. 
 
 put  on  the  new  man  which  is  created  after  God, 
 in  righteousness  and  true  holiness  \"  The  act  of 
 being  created  anew  after  God  (or  after  the  pat- 
 tern of  the  Divine  perfection)  is  here  designated 
 the  adoption  of  sanctity.  But  the  power  of  this 
 adoption  itself  depends  upon  an  exclusive  faculty 
 — conscience;  of  all  the  functions  of  the  spirit  of 
 man,  the  most  sensitive,  sleepless,  and  universal  ; 
 of  all  his  faculties,  that  which  seems  the  most 
 keenly  connected  with  the  impressions  of  higher 
 worlds ;  the  perpetual  check  on  the  passions  and 
 frailties  of  our  nature,  the  instant  warning  of 
 crime  in  its  birth,  the  vivid  avenger  of  crime  in 
 its  completion,  the  irresistible  retributor  of  evil  for 
 evil  to  the  pillow  of  the  oppressor,  the  cheerer  of 
 the  chain  and  the  scaffold  to  the  sufferer  in  the 
 righteous  cause,  the  great  earthly  anticipator  of 
 the  Divine  tribunal ;  an  accuser  seldom  capable  of 
 being  totally  silenced,  even  in  the  loudest  triumphs 
 of  human  guilt,  but,  in  the  hour  of  misfortune,  or 
 of  natural  decay,  often  returning  with  terrible  in- 
 fliction, awakening  the  memory  to  a  sense  of  evil 
 unmatched  by  the  rack  and  the  scourge,  and  break- 
 ing up  life  in  an  agony  of  the  whole  bodily  and 
 mental  frame  of  man. 
 
 THE  SEVENTH  DAY.— The  work  of  crea- 
 tion was  now  complete  ;  and  it  was  to  be  crowned 
 by  an  act  exclusively  addressed  to  man,  and  to  him 
 
 '  Ephes.  iv.  24. 
 
CREATION.  39 
 
 in  the  highest  capacity  of  his  nature* — The  con- 
 secration of  the  Sabbath,  a  great  moral  observ- 
 ance, by  which  man,  in  every  period  of  his  life, 
 and  every  age  of  the  world,  was  to  be  constantly 
 recalled  to  the  acknowledgment  that  he  and  all 
 things  round  him  were  the  creatures  of  the  Divine 
 will.  "  Thus,"  concludes  the  sacred  historian, 
 '*  the  heavens  and  the  earth  were  finished,  and 
 all  the  host  of  them." 
 
 '  The  Sabbath  also  had  reference  to  the  inferior  animals, 
 but  only  to  those  classes  whose  natural  liberty  is  impaired,  for 
 the  benefit  of  man ;  and,  of  course,  to  those  only  as  a  means  of 
 physical  relaxation. 
 
CHAPTER   III. 
 
 CREATION. 
 
 The  primary  question,  Why  the  material  universe 
 was  created ;  belongs  to  the  councils  of  Heaven.  But 
 we  know  that  it  could  not  have  been  essential  to 
 the  happiness  or  the  glory  of  the  Supreme  Lord ;  for 
 the  perfection  of  His  nature,  must  be  independent 
 of  all  things  external — nor  to  the  occupation  of 
 his  angels,  for  the  Lord  of  infinite  wisdom  must 
 be  enabled  to  command  countless  resources  for 
 the  activity  of  the  highest  of  his  creatures.  Yet, 
 from  the  occasional  and  remote  intimations  in 
 Scripture  of  the  revolt  of  evil  spirits,  we  may  per- 
 haps form  some  conjecture  of  the  Divine  design. 
 It  is  evidently  among  the  first  principles  of  the 
 Providential  Government,  to  show  the  course  of 
 beneficence  uncontrolled,  to  force  good  out  of 
 evil,  and  to  transmute  even  the  utmost  vio- 
 lence and  malignity  of  its  opponents  into  the 
 final  instruments  of  its  supremacy  and  mercy. 
 It  may  thus  have  been  among  the  purposes  of 
 the  creation,  to  give  an  evidence  to  the  angels 
 
CREATION.  41 
 
 who  kept  their  first  estate,  that  no  hostile  attempt 
 could  have  any  other  issue  than  that  of  aggran- 
 dizing the  glory  of  the  Deity.  Even  the  fall  of 
 man  and  his  offspring,  on  this  principle,  might  be 
 converted  into  the  means  of  a  great  moral  and 
 physical  triumph.  If  the  exalted  intellects  that 
 belong  to  the  angelic  tribes  have  any  thing  in 
 common  with  the  human  understanding,  no  more 
 impressive  lesson  could  be  administered  for  their 
 continuance  in  subordination  and  virtue,  than  the 
 sight  of  the  leading  spirit  of  evil,  and  his  angels, 
 suffered  to  expatiate  through  a  new  and  vast  scene 
 of  existence,  yet,  by  that  sufferance,  only  the 
 more  condignly  baffled :  their  more  extended  revolt 
 only  the  more  directly  doing  the  work  of  the 
 Divine  benevolence,  in  trying  and  purifying 
 spirits  for  immortality  ;  and  finally,  the  outrage 
 and  insult,  which  aimed  at  universal  ruin,  only 
 opening  the  way  for  the  mightiest  act  of  mercy, 
 perhaps,  conceivable  by  created  intelligence,  the 
 Atonement, — the  sacred  completion  of  the  contest 
 between  good  and  evil,  bringing  back  the  Re- 
 deemer to  his  throne,  at  the  head  of  the  redeemed, 
 gathered  from  every  orb  of  the  universe,  concen- 
 trating on  his  brow  new  titles  to  glory,  and  filling 
 the  heaven  and  the  heaven  of  heavens  with  his 
 praise. 
 
 On  this  principle,  too,  that  the  universe  com- 
 prehended in  its  purposes  a  lesson  to  the  higher 
 orders  of  being,    we   may  answer  the  next  ques- 
 
42  CREATION. 
 
 tion,  Why  Creation  was  successive  ?  To  Omni- 
 potence, the  production  of  an  universe  must  have 
 been  as  easily  the  work  of  a  moment,  as  of  ages. 
 But,  as  to  man,  the  Divine  skill  in  the  Creation  is 
 among  the  most  striking  materials  of  knowledge, 
 and  equally  among  the  most  resistless  evidences 
 of  the  Divine  goodness,  power,  and  supremacy  : 
 so  may  it  be  to  the  spirits  round  the  throne. 
 
 It  is  not  to  be  objected,  that  the  phenomena 
 which  exhibit  the  highest  wonders  to  the  narrow 
 faculties  of  man,  may  be  simple  to  the  sagacity 
 of  the  spiritual  world ;  as  in  human  science,  the 
 more  advanced  acquirement  looks  down  upon  the 
 past.  This  objection  does  not  hold  in  the  works 
 of  Deity.  There,  every  advance  only  accumulates 
 the  wonder.  The  more  penetrating  the  science, 
 the  more  perpetually  it  is  surprised  and  de- 
 lighted ;  the  more  vigorously  furnished  the  intel- 
 lect, the  more  it  is  flooded  with  evidences  of 
 exhaustless  skill  and  power,  every  ascending  step 
 only  opening  a  broader  horizon,  every  new  mas- 
 tery of  nature  the  pledge  of  another  and  a  nobler 
 possession,  a  new  vestibule  to  a  still  more  capa- 
 cious and  magnificent  shrine  of  knowledge. 
 
 That  the  spirits  of  heaven  study  the  moral 
 frame  of  the  universe ;  that  their  knowledge  is 
 gradual ;  and  even  that  there  are  portions  and 
 parts  of  its  government  expressly  withheld  from 
 them  for  the  time,  are  direct  declarations  of 
 Scripture.     We  have  no  stronger  reason  to  doubt, 
 
CREATION.  43 
 
 that  they  find  objects  of  their  contemplation  in 
 the  frame  of  those  "  heavens  which  declare  the 
 jrlory  of  God  ;"  than  that  they  watch  the  ways  of 
 Providence  among  men,  or  minister  to  the  Church, 
 or  "  earnestly  desire  to  look  into"  the  mysteries 
 of  Redemption.  It  is  evident,  that  the  successive 
 days  of  the  Creation  were  not  for  the  human  eye. 
 Nor  were  the  successive  announcements  of  the 
 leading  works  of  those  days  for  the  human  ear. 
 Nor  could  the  words,  "  Let  there  be  light," 
 "  Let  there  be  a  firmament,"  "  Let  the  air  and 
 ocean  bring  forth  life,"  have  been  uttered  as 
 commands  perceptible  by  brute  matter ;  for  per- 
 ception implies  mind.  Nor  can  we  conceive 
 them  as  disclosures  of  the  counsels  of  the  Deity 
 to  himself.  On  what  grounds,  then,  are  they  to 
 be  accounted  for  ;  but  as  proclamations  to  the 
 surrounding  tribes  of  intellect,  summonses  to 
 investigate  each  new  operation  of  the  Divine 
 will?  An  instantaneous  universe  might  have 
 overwhelmed  all  faculties  but  intuition  ;  an  uni- 
 verse formed  in  six  days  was  a  train  of  consecu- 
 tive and  connected  discoveries,  opened  at  intervals 
 adapted  to  the  perception  of  created  beings. 
 Those  are,  of  course,  ofi'ered  merely  as  probable 
 reasons  for  acts  which  must  always  remain  objects 
 of  imperfect  knowledge.  But,  if  the  strong  pro- 
 bability be  the  actual  truth,  we  can  scarcely 
 conceive  a  loftier  occasion  of  impressing  a  sense 
 of  the  attributes  of  the  Universal  Lord  on  the 
 7 
 
44  CREATION. 
 
 minds  of  his  creatures.  If  the  "  ten  thousand 
 times  ten  thousand,  and  thousands  of  thousands," 
 the  incalculable  multitudes  of  the  spiritual  world, 
 then  surrounded  the  descending  Deity,  as  they 
 shall  yet  surround  him  when  he  comes  to  judg- 
 ment ;  every  successive  act  must  have  been  the 
 source  of  an  influx  of  ideas  of  the  most  novel, 
 splendid,  and  comprehensive  nature.  In  the  re- 
 sult of  the  first  command,  the  general  formation 
 of  the  heavens  and  earth,  they  saw  a  phenomenon 
 of  which  spirits  may  have  had  no  more  previous 
 conception,  than  man  has  of  the  nature  of  spirit : 
 solid  and  extended  substance,  regions  of  space, 
 all  but  infinite,  filled,  at  the  instant,  with  myriads 
 of  worlds'.  Intuition  may  belong  to  Deity  alone. 
 But,  in  the  ascending  ranks  of  spiritual  intellect, 
 
 '  The  magnitude  even  of  our  planet,  diminutive  as  it  is, 
 compared  with  the  great  external  orbs,  is  overwhelming.  The 
 surface  of  the  earth  alone  contains  197,552,160  square  miles, 
 of  which  about  three-fourths,  or  148,000,000,  are  now  covered 
 with  ocean. 
 
 Its  interior,  beyond  the  few  hundred  fathoms  that  we  have 
 pierced  in  looking  for  minerals,  is  placed  out  of  the  reach  of 
 man  ;  until  some  new  means  shall  be  discovered  of  counteract- 
 ing the  inflammable  vapours,  and  the  waters,  which  form  its 
 barrier.  But  the  contents  of  those  depths  are  important,  by 
 their  influence,  though  we  should  never  discover  their  materials. 
 Their  gravitation  steadies  all  things  on  the  surface.  If  they 
 were  suddenly  turned  into  air,  nothing  could  be  stable  on  the 
 circumference  for  a  moment.  All  would  be  loosened,  fly  off",  or 
 be  overthrown. 
 
CREATION.  45 
 
 there  must  be  faculties  capable  of  penetrating 
 into  the  mysteries  of  nature,  with  a  degree  of 
 force  and  swiftness  equivalent  to  perpetual,  unre- 
 tarded,  and  all  but  unlimited,  knowledge.  What 
 a  fount  of  rational  wonder  must  have  been  opened, 
 even  in  the  first  formation  of  our  single  globe, 
 to  faculties  which  could  enter  directly  into  the 
 secrets  of  its  structure  !  What  material  for  noble 
 curiosity,  in  the  treasures  already  stored  in  that 
 rude  and  lifeless  mass,  its  beds  of  minerals, 
 its  gems,  its  stratification,  its  preparatives  for 
 human  existence,  its  springs,  and  soils,  its  irre- 
 sistible vapours,  its  fluids,  its  fires  ?  But  we  have 
 also  the  strongest  analogy  for  the  belief  that  every 
 orb  of  the  universe  is  prepared  for  the  support  of 
 life,  and  furnished  with  exuberant  instances  of 
 the  Divine  wisdom  and  benevolence.  What  must 
 have  been  the  eflfect  of  their  millions  starting  thus 
 into  existence  before  the  angelic  eye  ! 
 
 Writers  on  those  subjects  have  too  hastily  as- 
 sumed, that  the  work  of  the  six  days  was  limited 
 to  the  earth.  But  the  language  of  the  historian 
 is  decisive.  Commencing  with  the  declaration, 
 that  in  the  beginning  God  created  the  heavens 
 and  the  earth,  and  stating,  that  after  this  primary 
 operation,  the  earth  was  still  empty  of  all  produc- 
 tion, dark  and  void,  he  thenceforth  limits  himself 
 to  the  detail  of  production  in  that  part  of  the  uni- 
 verse with  which  man  was  most  concerned  ;  but 
 he    concludes    with   words   as   comprehensive   as 
 
46  CREATION. 
 
 those  with  which  he  began  :  "  Thus  the  heavens 
 and  the  earth  were  finished,  and  all  the  host  of 
 them ;  ^"  not  merely  the  general  frame,  but  the 
 individual  orbs;  ^'- finished,' — ajDplied  to  all,  in 
 the  same  sense  in  which  we  know  that  it  was 
 applied  to  Earth ;  furnished  with  life  and  the 
 means  of  life.  The  resting  on  the  seventh  day- 
 is  as  directly  referred  to  the  Divine  operation  in 
 the  orbs  of  heaven  as  in  the  earth.  "  And  God 
 blessed  the  seventh  day,  and  sanctified  it,  because 
 in  it  he  had  rested  from  all  his  work  which  God 
 had  created  and  made.  Those  are  the  generations 
 of  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  when  they  were  cre- 
 ated, in  the  day  that  the  Lord  made  the  earth  and 
 the  heavens^"  We  thus  have  no  ground  what- 
 ever for  conceiving  from  this,  or  any  other,  part 
 of  Scripture,  that  any  distinction  existed  between 
 the  act  of  Deity  in  the  heavenly  bodies  and  in  our 
 globe ;  that  those  higher  orbs  were  either  left  in 
 the  formless  and  void  state  of  the  first  day,  while 
 our  planet  was  replenished  ;  or  that  they  were 
 fitted  and  furnished  by  an  instantaneous  energy, 
 while  Earth  was  subjected  to  a  process  of  gradual 
 completion. 
 
 The  progressive  formation  of  the  universe,  thus 
 viewed,  must  have  assumed  an  aspect  totally  su- 
 perior to  any  impression  now  conceivable  by  the 
 human    mind  ;    an  aspect  suitable  to  the  vivid 
 
 '  Gen.  ii.  I.  *  Gen.  ii.  2. 
 
CREATION.  47 
 
 intellect,  the  previous  knowledge,  the  vigour  of 
 inquiry,  and  the  susceptibility  of  exalted  wonder, 
 delight,  and  adoration,  belonging  to  the  spirits 
 round  the  throne.  With  what  feelings  must  not 
 such  spectators  have  seen  the  creation  of  that  most 
 splendid  of  all  fluids, — Light  ! 
 
 The  faculties  by  which  spirits  perceive,  are  be- 
 yond even  the  thought  of  beings,  who,  like  us, 
 must  owe  all  their  ideas  to  organization.  But 
 darkness  relates  only  to  body,  and  no  depth  of 
 darkness  could  have  prohibited  to  spirits  the  most 
 perfect  insight  into  the  universal  frame.  Still,  if 
 they  possess  any  conceptions  in  common  with 
 man,  the  creation  of  Light  must  have  been  an 
 object  of  astonishment  and  transport  even  to  their 
 simple  sense  of  beauty.  Its  sudden  burst  of  il- 
 lumination over  an  universe  ;  its  strong  embody- 
 ings  in  the  suns  and  centres  of  the  systems ;  its 
 softer  radiance  in  their  satellites ;  its  gem-like 
 flashings  and  colourings  in  the  infinite  changes  of 
 earth  and  heaven  wrought  by  the  touch  of  this 
 fine  emanation  ;  must  have  afforded  a  spectacle  of 
 the  loveliest  order.  But,  to  their  sense  of  science 
 the  spectacle  must  have  been  still  more  admir- 
 able. It  is  well  known,  that  human  science  finds 
 the  subject  of  some  of  its  finest  speculations  in 
 this  fluid.  Its  measureless  activity  ;  the  infinite 
 minuteness  of  its   parts ' ;   its  singular  and  bril- 
 
 *  Light  seems  to  be  absolutely  without  any  weight  whatever. 
 It  defies,  certainly,  all  human  standard.     "  No  particle  of  light 
 
48  CREATION. 
 
 Hant  composition  ;  its  mysterious  connexion  with 
 the  beauty,  and  perhaps  the  being,  of  vegetable 
 existence  ;  its  powers  of  chemical  change  ;  the 
 avenues  which  it  opens  into  the  structure  of 
 things ;  its  agency  in  crystallization,  in  magnet- 
 ism, in  heat,  in  electricity,  in  the  human  frame; 
 its  infinite  vibrations,  its  power  of  penetrating 
 the  densest  bodies ;  all  may  form  the  unex- 
 hausted study  of  ages  to  come.  But  an  additional 
 field,  closed  to  man,  was  open  to  higher  natures, 
 in  its  application  to  the  universe ;  in  the  know- 
 ledge of  those  numberless  and  noble  expedients 
 which  the}'^  might  be  empowered  to  trace,  for  its 
 diffusion  through  regions,  to  which  all  that  spreads 
 before  the  human  eye  may  be  as  nothing ;  in  the 
 atmospheres,  rings,  moons,  nebulae,  those  vast 
 mirrors  and  reservoirs  of  illumination,  which, 
 varied  and  magnificent  as  they  are  in  our  system, 
 probably  possess  a  thousand  times  the  grandeur 
 and  diversity  in  the  countless  systems,  equally 
 above  our  vision  and  our  knowledge  \ 
 
 can  weigh  the  millionth  milUonlh  part  of  a  grain,"  is  the  asser- 
 tion of  one  of  our  philosophers.  Yet  what  is  this  estimate  but 
 a  more  formal  declaration,  that  we  have  no  power  of  attaching 
 the  idea  of  weight  to  its  existence. 
 
 ^  The  light  of  Sirius  has  been  calculated  at  fourteen  suns. 
 (Wollaston.J  Yet  this,  perhaps  the  nearest  fixed  star,  and 
 chiefly  conspicuous  on  that  account,  may  bear  no  proportion  to 
 the  more  remote  centres  of  light  in  the  universe.  If  the  solar 
 system  be  but  in  the  relation  of  a  planet  with  its  satellites  to 
 a  still  vaster  system,  as  has  been  strongly  urged;  what  must  be 
 
CREATION.  49 
 
 But  the  wonders  of  the  first  day  were  not  yet 
 complete.     An  influence,  teeming  with  the  most 
 powerful    effects,   and   which,  to  this   hour,  fills 
 Science  with  its  deepest  problems,    and  the  world 
 with  activity,  usefulness,  and  enjoyment— motion, 
 almost  the  soul  of  matter,  was  to  be  created.     If 
 to  spirits  matter  were  a  new  conception  ;  motion, 
 which  altogether  depends  upon  matter,  must  have 
 been   equally  new.     With    what  feelings,   then, 
 must  they  have    seen    the    whole   immensity   of 
 space,  filled  and  vivified  at  a  word  with  this  new 
 influence,    propagating   itself  through   bodies   of 
 the  magnitude  of  the  planets,  at  rates  of  revolu- 
 tion round  their  axes  of  from  1000  to  30,000  miles 
 an  hour ;  or  through  suns  as  large  as  the  mass  of 
 their  systems.     But  even  those  feelings  might  be 
 weak  to  the  scientific  astonishment  excited  by  the 
 fine  adaptations  to  this  great  impulse  exhibited  in 
 the  variety  of  axes,  of  sphericities,   of  densities, 
 the  exquisite  and  unfailing  balance  of  forces  and 
 forms  exhibited  on  a  scale  as  broad  as  the  crea- 
 tion !     "  Thus  the  evening  and  the  morning  were 
 the  first  day." 
 
 tlie  magnitude  and  lustre  of  the  sun  of  that  system  !  The  late 
 controversy  on  the  parallax  of  this  beautiful  star,  has  left 
 the  subject  as  much  in  doubt  as  ever.  Its  distance  is  probably 
 immeasurable  by  any  human  means  ;  but  it  is  calculated  that 
 it  cannot  be  less  than  half  a  million  of  semi-diameters  of  the 
 earth's  orbit. 
 
50  CREATION. 
 
 The  Second  Day  threw  open  a  totally  distinct 
 province  of  nature — the  world  of  meteors — the  at- 
 mosphere. The  earth  lay  in  light,  but  still  covered 
 with  the  ocean.  At  the  Divine  Word,  a  vast 
 mass  of  the  waters  was  suddenly  borne  up  from 
 the  abj'^ss,  changing  its  solid  bulk  into  the  light- 
 ness and  beauty  of  clouds  '.  A  new  element  was 
 thus  developed,  less  brilliant  than  light,  yet  still 
 more  essential,  at  least  to  human  existence,  and 
 not  less  abounding  in  diversity  and  value  of 
 powers.  The  discovery  of  a  few  of  its  principles 
 is  still  ranked  among  the  chief  trophies  of  human 
 research.  Yet  what  boundless  room  for  discovery 
 must  have  been  given  in  a  fluid  which  takes  a 
 share  in  every  process  of  nature  ;  possessing  ca- 
 pacities, apparently  of  the  most  opposite  kinds  : 
 of  sustaining  life  and  of  its  instant  extinction ; 
 
 '  The  height  of  the  atmosphere  is  still  a  question.  Jt  has 
 been  variously  calculated  at  little  more  than  four  times  the 
 height  of  the  clouds,  or  about  eight  miles  ;  at  forty-five,  from 
 barometrical  pressure ;  at  a  hundred,  or  at  still  greater  heights, 
 from  the  perpetual  existence  of  light  in  the  zenith  :  for  the 
 deepest  midnight  is  not  totally  dark  except  when  the  sky  is 
 covered  with  clouds.  But  what  limit  can  be  placed  to  so  ex- 
 pansible a  fluid  ?  Meteors  have  been  seen  burning  at  the  height 
 of  a  thousand  miles.  It  may  be  justly  asked,  Could  they  burn 
 without  air  ''  The  pressure  of  the  atmosphere  is  a  new  wonder. 
 It  is  essential  to  existence ;  yet  it  seems  made  to  destroy  all 
 existence  :  fourteen  tons  on  a  man  !  5000  millions  of  millions 
 of  tons  on  the  globe  ! 
 
CREATION.  51 
 
 of  expansion,  and  condensation,  nearly  unlimited  ; 
 of  the  most  refreshing  softness,  and  of  force  abso- 
 lutely irresistible  ; — Air,  the  great  conveyancer  of 
 scents  and  sounds,  the  great  agent  of  combustion, 
 of  salubrity,  of  vegetation ;  universally  felt,  yet 
 invisible ;  a  double  principle  of  destruction,  a 
 poison  and  a  flame,  combined  into  a  principle  of 
 life.  Yet  those  were  scarcely  more  than  the  pas- 
 sive powers  of  this  marvellous  element.  A  new 
 scene  of  delight  must  have  been  reserved  in  the 
 displays  of  its  visible  action. 
 
 By  what  direct  process  the  firmament  was 
 formed,  is  not  declared.  But  a  process  so  similar 
 in  its  effects  constantly  occurs,  that  we  may  be 
 entitled  to  think  the  magnitude  of  the  original 
 operation  the  chief  difference.  With  us,  the  solu- 
 tion and  ascent  of  water  in  the  air  is,  in  general,  un- 
 observed ;  yet  the  evaporation  of  a  summers  noon, 
 or  even  of  a  burst  of  sunshine,  may  produce  the 
 thunder-storm.  If  an  operation  of  such  compa- 
 rative slowness  and  limited  extent  can  produce  a 
 convulsion  of  the  elements,  what  may  not  have 
 been  the  result  of  an  evaporation,  acting  at  once 
 over  the  whole  surface  of  the  globe,  dividing  ocean 
 from  ocean,  and  completing  the  whole  process  in  a 
 day.  All  that  man  has  ever  seen  of  elemental  con- 
 vulsion, mustbecalmnesstotheuniversal  hurricane. 
 But,  to  beings  superior  to  the  terrors  that  distract 
 the  human  heart  and  eye,  there  might  be  only  suc- 
 cessive impressions  of  delight  and  grandeur  in  llie 
 
 E  2 
 
52  CREATION. 
 
 successive  aspects  of  this  tremendous  agency.  From 
 the  commencement  to  the  close  ;  from  the  first  co- 
 vering of  the  concave  with  the  vokimes  of  vapour, 
 rushing  upwards  like  smokes  from  a  conflagra- 
 tion ;  from  the  first  awaking  of  electricity,  the  first 
 blaze  of  the  lightning,  the  first  roll  of  the  thunder, 
 the  first  burst  of  the  hail,  the  rain,  the  snow  ;  to 
 the  consummate  tempest,  the  whirlwind  rending 
 its  way  through  the  floating  mountains  and  conti- 
 nents of  cloud  above  ;  and  the  water-spout  plough- 
 ing the  world  of  waters  below  ;  all  was  new, 
 powerful,  and  sublime.  Even  the  subsidence  of  the 
 storm,  might  give  but  a  new  succession  of  images, 
 never  till  then  conceived ; — in  the  change  from 
 grandeur  to  beauty,  the  clearing  of  the  heavens, 
 the  dying  away  of  the  thunder,  the  stillness  and 
 softness  of  the  air,  the  superb  shapes  and  colour- 
 ings of  the  sunset  clouds,  the  infinite  lights  and 
 shadow^s  of  the  subsiding  ocean  ;  till  came  the 
 yet  more  impressive  change,  from  the  loveliness 
 of  earth  and  air  to  the  magnificent  serenity  of 
 the  skies,  a  new  scene  of  splendours  opening 
 with  the  close  of  day  ;  the  twilight  glittering  with 
 the  shooting  star  ;  the  summer  lightning ;  the 
 prismatic  lustres  and  spiritual  swiftness  of  the 
 aurora ;  till  they,  too,  passed  away,  and  all  was 
 left  to  the  "  living  sapphires,"  the  calm  majesty 
 of  the  host  of  heaven. 
 
 The   Third    Day   disclosed  a  new    mystery  of 
 
CREATION,  53 
 
 wisdom,  totally  distinct  from  all  the  past.  On 
 the  pouring  of  the  waters  into  the  great  reservoir, 
 broken  for  them  at  the  instant,  into  the  surface 
 of  the  globe — an  operation  of  tremendous  violence 
 and  extent — the  uncovered  land  exhibited  a  work 
 of  Deity,  which,  as  it  could  not  have  existed 
 before  the  formation  of  matter,  might  have  never 
 before  entered  into  the  thoughts  of  any  created 
 mind  :  the  fixing  of  a  living  principle  in  a  ma- 
 terial form.  Matter  was  now  seen  suddenly 
 assuming  innumerable  shapes,  animated  by  a  new 
 mover  of  existence.  The  earth  was  covered  with 
 the  three  great  tribes  of  the  grasses,  the  herbs, 
 and  the  trees  :  the  whole  opulence  of  the  vege- 
 table kingdom.  Familiarity  satiates  the  ignorant, 
 but  has  no  power  to  impair  the  impressions  of  the 
 philosopher ;  and  to  the  last  hour  of  the  world, 
 the  study  of  this  great  region  of  nature  will  pro- 
 bably fill  him  with  new  interest,  and  be  the 
 source  of  new  knowledge.  He  sees  in  vegetation 
 a  mechanism  of  the  most  curious  and  delicate 
 contrivance,  embracing,  in  its  forms,  the  widest 
 scale  of  magnitude  of  any  product  of  the  earth, 
 from  the  gigantic  trees  of  the  Asiatic^,  African, 
 
 *  The  Banian  tree  has  been  a  topic  since  our  earliest  know- 
 ledge of  India.  Arrian,  on  the  authority  of  Nearchus,  describes 
 one  as  covering  five  acres.  The  great  Cubbeer  Burr,  on  the 
 banks  of  the  Nerbudda,  is  an  actual  grove,  with  upwards  of  300 
 
54  CREATION. 
 
 and  American  forest,  down  to  the  fungi  and 
 microscopic  mosses  of  the  pole ;  and  exhibiting 
 in  its  processes  a  circle  of  the  most  striking  and 
 admirable  change ;  in  the  succession  of  the  seed, 
 the  bloom,  and  the  fruit  reproducing  the  seed, 
 a  perpetual  precaution  against  loss  or  decay,  the 
 storehouse  of  an  existence  capable  of  spreading 
 over  an  unlimited  extent,  and  through  an  unli- 
 mited duration,  a  vegetable  immortality.  Still, 
 the  more  refined  and  rapid  apprehension  of  supe- 
 rior beings  might  receive  the  degree  of  delight 
 connected  with  the  greater  fulness  and  rapidity 
 of  this  knowledge.  What  a  banquet  for  the  in- 
 quiry of  such  intellects  might  not  be  offered  in 
 those  secrets  of  sensation  and  self- sustenance, 
 which  we  so  tardily,  and,  at  best,  so  partially 
 discover;  in  the  efficacy  of  those  countless  balms 
 and  specifics,  which  probably  contain  a  peculiar 
 medicine  for  every  disease  of  man ;  in  the  ana- 
 tomy of  plants,  in  their  profound  chemistry,  their 
 renewal  of  the  atmosphere,  their  renewal  of  the 
 fertility  of  the  soil ;  or  even  in  the  view  of  the 
 mere  multitude  of  products  elaborated  from  the 
 simple  elements  of  earth  and  water  by  those  ex- 
 quisite alembics,   in  the  dyes,  varnishes,  gums, 
 
 large  stems,  and  3,000  small  ones.  The  Adansonia  has  been 
 found  from  fifty  to  sixty  feet  in  girth,  with  branches  of  twenty 
 and  thirty.  The  age  of  trees  is  equally  memorable.  There  are 
 yew  trees  in  England  known  to  be  a  thousand  years  old. 
 
CREATION.  55 
 
 essences,  oils,  sugars,  spices,  wines,  so  incompa- 
 rably adapted  to  the  wants  and  enjoyments  of 
 every  locality  of  the  globe  \ 
 
 But  a  new  feature  of  a  still  finer  order  was  to 
 be  added  to  this  profusion — beauty  of  form  ;  and 
 that  in  so  remarkable  a  degree,  in  one  of  the 
 great  races  of  the  vegetable  kingdom — the  whole 
 vast  family  of  flowers — as  apparently  to  constitute 
 the  chief  object  of  its  creation.  The  measureless 
 variety^,  yet  consummate  elegance,  of  the  forms 
 
 '  Some  of  the  leading  names  of  Greek  pliilosophy  conceived 
 plants  to  be  actual  animals  ;  but  the  chief  part  of  ancient 
 science  was  trifling,  except  where  it  was  traditional. 
 
 Among  the  most  remarkable  qualities  of  plants  is  their  power 
 of  increase  ;  a  power  of  which  we  have  hitherto  comparatively 
 taken  but  little  advantage.  The  common  increase  of  wheat, 
 under  our  careless  cultivation,  is  five  or  six  fold ;  but  its  capa- 
 city of  production  is  nearly  without  limit.  A  single  grain  has 
 produced  from  five  to  six  thousand  ;  and,  by  repeated  divisions, 
 upwards  of  half  a  million.  To  what  extent  a  superior  cultiva- 
 tion may  yet  urge  this  power,  is  incalculable.  All  fruits  are 
 capable  of  extraordinary  improvement,  for  all  have  been  im- 
 proved to  their  present  state  from  products  scarcely  fit  for  the 
 use  of  man. 
 
 '  The  species  of  plants  already  known  are  nearly  100,000; 
 and  when  we  consider  how  vast  a  portion  of  the  earth  is  still 
 comparatively  unexplored,  including  the  wildernesses  of  North 
 and  South  America,  and  peculiarly  Africa,  the  great  country 
 of  vegetation,  whose  central  table  land  has  scarcely  been 
 touched  by  an  European  foot,  we  may  not  have  discovered  half 
 the  actual  number  of  the  land.  But  a  new  world  of  vegetation 
 lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean,  which  man  can  never  hope  fully 
 to  investigate :   yet  in  which  nature  sports  in  the  wildest  pro- 
 
56  CREATION. 
 
 of  plants  ;  the  fine  harmony  preserved  between  the 
 stem,  the  branch,  the  leaf,  and  the  bloom  ;  their 
 hues,  from  the  broadest  effulgence  of  colouring, 
 down  to  the  most  retiring  and  tender  shades ;  the 
 exquisite  moulding  and  painting  of  the  flower- 
 cup,  which  often  seems  as  if  it  had  been  but  just 
 touched  by  the  most  studied  pencil  of  living 
 taste  ;  even  their  movements,  as  they  bend  and 
 recover  before  the  wind,  all  are  direct  appeals 
 to  the  native  sense  of  beauty.  In  their  fragrance, 
 too,  lies  only  another  appeal  to  another  sense  of 
 beauty,  perhaps  more  exclusive  and  delicate  than 
 that  of  the  eye.  Every  man  of  perceptions  yet 
 unvitiated,  knows  that  plants  have  thus  the  capa- 
 city of  reaching  the  mind,  and  that  the  breath  of 
 the  garden  and  the  field  can  infuse  into  the  heart 
 something  of  a  pure  tranquillity,  not  far  from 
 virtue.  Probably  there  are  few,  unless  the  whole 
 frame  of  their  minds  has  been  utterly  torn  and 
 wrecked  by  vice  or  despair,  who,  in  their  evening 
 walk,  have  not  felt  this  power  of  quieting  the 
 irritations  of  the  day  ;  have  not  unconsciously  di- 
 vested their  bosoms  of  some  part  of  the  ambitious 
 pinings  and  causeless  hostilities  that  constitute 
 the  fever  of  the  world  ;  and  learned,  even  from 
 such  slight  teachers  as  the  lilies  of  the  field,  les- 
 sons of  the  wisdom  and  goodwill  of  that  mighty 
 
 fusion,  from  the  oceanic  algae,  fifteen  hundred  feet  long,  to  the 
 most  minute  and  fragile  mosses. 
 
CREATION.  57 
 
 Being,  who  makes  all  nature  music  to  the  ear, 
 and  beauty  to  the  eye  ! 
 
 The  work  of  the  Fourth  Day  was  a  great  ope- 
 ration on  the  whole  frame  of  things.  On  this  day 
 the  heavenly  bodies,  already  rolling  on  their  axes, 
 were  to  be  impressed  with  the  new  form  of  motion 
 which  rolls  them  round  the  centres  of  their  sys- 
 tems. The  globe  had  already  been  divided  into 
 land  and  ocean  ;  the  land  was  already  clothed 
 with  vegetation ;  the  air  was  formed,  tempering 
 the  heat  and  cold  of  the  soil,  receiving  the  va- 
 pours, and  returning  them,  softened  and  purified, 
 into  its  bosom.  To  the  Earth,  thus  prepared  for 
 the  course  by  which  it  administers  to  the  subsist- 
 ence and  pleasures  of  man,  in  this  fitting  moment, 
 the  seasons,  hy  which  this  course  was  to  be  thence- 
 forth sustained,  were  determined.  Of  all  the  acts 
 of  the  Divine  hand,  next  to  the  first  summoning 
 of  the  universe  into  existence,  this  was  the  most 
 stupendous.  Imagination  totally  sinks  before  the 
 attempt  to  conceive  the  terrific  sublimity  of  this 
 display,  even  within  the  boundaries  of  the  solar 
 system,  seen  in  its  true  velocities  and  magni- 
 tudes— twenty-nine  orbs,  from  2000  to  80,000 
 miles  in  diameter,  suddenly  shooting  forth  into 
 space,  with  a  speed  of  from  20,000  to  100,000 
 miles  an  hour ;  and  even  those  velocities  slow 
 to  the  flight  of  a  new^  host,  the  flame-bearers  of 
 the  system,  the  five  hundred,  or  the  five  thousand 
 
58  CREATION. 
 
 comets,  sweeping  columns  of  fire,  from  fifty  to  a 
 hundred  millions  of  miles  long,  through  the  hea- 
 vens ;  crossing  and  traversing  the  planetary  paths 
 in  every  form  of  orbit,  plunging  on  them  straight 
 downward,  sweeping  side  by  side,  cutting  through 
 them  at  every  conceivable  inclination ;  in  all 
 threatening  them  with  ruin,  yet  darting  through 
 this  infinite  intricacy  with  a  smoothness  and  safety 
 which  have  never  been  impaired  during  six  thou- 
 sand years'. 
 
 Yet  what  is  our  system  compared  with  the  uni- 
 verse !  The  whole  creation  is  in  movement :  the 
 higher  the  telescope  penetrates,  the  more  clearly 
 it  discovers,  that  all  its  orbs  alike  are  speeding 
 through  space ;  that  suns  and  their  systems  are 
 rolling  round  orbits  of  indescribable  magnitude, 
 the  satellites  of  suns  and  systems  vaster  still,  each 
 sweeping  a  broader  inroad  into  the  kingdom  of 
 vacancy,  all  guided  by  one  law,  all  sustained, 
 animated,  and  governed  by  one  transcendant  will. 
 And  this  was  but  the  work  of  a  word,  the  fabric  of 
 
 *  Saturn's  motion  is  22,000  miles  an  hour,  Mercury's  105,000! 
 The  comets  of  our  system  have  been  calculated  at  seven  hun- 
 dred, but  the  actual  number  is  probably  much  more.  The 
 orbits  of  nearly  a  hundred  have  been  ascertained.  The  velocity 
 of  the  comet  of  1680  in  its  perihelion,  was  calculated  at  880,000 
 miles  an  hour.  The  tails  of  some  have  extended  a  hundred 
 millions  of  miles.  On  Herschel's  computation,  the  brilliant 
 comet  of  1811  had  a  train  one  hundred  millions  of  miles  long 
 and  fifteen  millions  broad  :  the  whole  nebulous  diameter  of  the 
 head  was  nearly  127,000  miles. 
 
CREATION.  59 
 
 things  to  pass   away,    but   "  the  hiding  of   His 
 power  !" 
 
 But,  in  all  instances  of  the  Divine  agency  in 
 nature,  the  finer  contemplation  is  their  science. 
 The  characteristics  which  so  powerfully  strike  the 
 senses,  are  comparatively  lost  in  the  measureless 
 field,  which  their  construction  opens  to  the  un- 
 derstanding. The  laws  by  which  the  motions  of 
 our  system  are  regulated,  their  exact  and  un- 
 deviating  proportions,  their  periodic  provisions 
 against  excess  of  error,  form  the  true  sublime. 
 Yet  we  may  be  still  but  in  the  outskirts  of  this 
 knowledge.  The  investigations  of  those  few  years 
 have  led  us  to  the  gates  of  a  new  empire  of  celes- 
 tial discovery.  A  slight  change  in  the  telescope, 
 or  some  of  those  sudden  sparks  of  illumination 
 which  the  world  calls  accident,  but  which  should 
 more  fitly  be  named  direct  interpositions  of  Pro- 
 vidence to  stimulate  and  guide  the  progress  of 
 man,  may  soon  advance  us  further  still,  and 
 open,  not  simply  the  view,  but  the  constitution, 
 of  the  new  host  of  heaven — The  Binary  and 
 clustered  stars,  with  their  gigantic  revolutions  of 
 thousands  of  years ;  the  regions  of  the  Nebulae ; 
 those  still  more  prodigious  globes  of  constella- 
 tions, of  which  we  know  nothing,  but  that  they 
 contain  millions ;  those  vast  insulated  stars, 
 pre-eminent  by  their  magnitude  and  the  intense 
 beauty  of  their  golden,  purple,  emerald,  and 
 crimson  splendours,  perhaps  offering  new  delight 
 7 
 
60  CREATION. 
 
 to  new  powers  of  vision  in  other  worlds,  and 
 showing-  the  universe  to  their  inhabitants  in 
 shapes  and  lustres  more  magnificent  than  are 
 conceivable  by  human  eyes ;  glorious,  even  as 
 "  one  star  excelleth  another  star  in  glory  ^" 
 
 The  work  of  the  Fifth  Day  was  a  demonstra- 
 tion of  the  Divine  hand  of  a  totally  distinct  order. 
 Animal  life  still  baffles  all  inquiry.  The  sources 
 of  its  excitability  ;  of  its  resistance  to  the  disso- 
 lution of  organized  matter;  of  its  increased  te- 
 nacity in  the  lower  grades  of  existence,  and  its 
 fearful  facility  of  extinction  in  man  ;  of  its  perio- 
 dical renewals  of  activity  in  peculiar  classes,  and 
 its  sustentation  under  the  torpor  of  others,  for 
 hundreds  or  thousands  of  years  ;  its  influence  on 
 the  intellect ;  its  singular  force  in  the  muscular 
 system,  its  equally  singular  susceptibility  in  the 
 nervous ;  its  incessant  galvanic  and  chemical 
 influences ;  are  all  problems,  still  almost  hope- 
 lessly obscure.  Even  so  simple  a  question  as  its 
 fount  and  residence  in  man  and  the  inferior  ani- 
 mals, whether  the  brain,  the  spine,  the  heart,  the 
 nerves ;  whether,  taking  Scripture  literally,   the 
 
 *  Struve  has  already  discovered  upwards  of  3000  double 
 stars. 
 
 The  colours  of  the  more  conspicuous  stars  are  not  to  be  re- 
 ferred to  juxta-position,  or  to  the  defects  of  the  telescope. 
 They  are  in  general  real  colours,  and  often  of  the  most  striking 
 and  various  vividness. 
 
CREATION.  61 
 
 blood;  or  circumfused  through  all;  has  been  asked 
 since  the  beginning  of  time,  and  probably  will  be 
 asked,  without  an  answer,  till  its  close. 
 
 On  this  day,  in  replenishing  air  and  ocean,  two 
 ofreat  divisions  of  animal  life  were  created,  ex- 
 hibiting  properties  strikingly  similar,  yet  adapted 
 to  purposes  of  extreme  diversity ;  one  of  those 
 tribes  formed  to  take  possession  of  the  lightest  of 
 the  elements,  yet  to  sustain  itself  there  only  by  a 
 perpetual  effort ;  to  feed  on  the  flowers,  fruits,  and 
 seeds  of  the  land,  to  sport  in  the  sunshine,  to  en- 
 joy earth  and  air  alike,  and  to  fill  both  with  har- 
 mony ;  the  other  destined  to  force  its  way  through 
 an  element  of  nine  hundred  times  the  density  of 
 the  air,  and  live  where  nearly  all  other  animal 
 life  perishes ;  floating  without  an  effort,  possess- 
 ing means  of  movement  of  singular  rapidity  and 
 nearly  inexhaustible  continuance,  and  though  im- 
 bibing air,  and  seeking  and  enjoying  light,  yet 
 inflexibly  bound  to  its  dark  and  heavy  element. 
 
 The  chief  similitude  of  the  two  tribes  existed 
 in  their  both  possessing,  in  a  degree  beyond  all 
 creatures  else,  the  migratory  propensity,  and  that 
 consequent  power  of  self-direction  through  the 
 wildernesses  of  air  and  ocean,  which  alike  sur- 
 passes the  senses  and  the  comprehension  of 
 man '. 
 
 *  Birds  and  fish  equal  each  other,  and  surpass  all  besides,  in  the 
 length  of  their  migrations.  The  swallow  flies  from  England  to 
 Africa  ;  fish  frequently  migrate  four  or  five  thousand  miles.    But 
 
62  CREATION. 
 
 At  the  rise  of  the  fifth  morning,  the  ocean  lay  a 
 blank,  covering  a  wide  space  of  the  globe.  The 
 air,  lighted  and  coloured  by  the  sun,  was  seen  a 
 blue  and  lovely  sphere,  but  a  lifeless  one,  encom- 
 passing the  world.  At  the  Almighty  word,  both 
 were  suddenly  filled  with  animated  beings.  The 
 ocean  was  tenanted  with  incalculable  multitudes, 
 from  the  most  delicate  minuteness  to  the  most  enor- 
 mous magnitude,  from  dwellers  on  the  surface,  and 
 almost  in  the  sunshine,  to  the  inhabitants  of  depths 
 that  never  see  the  day ;  from  shapes  of  singular 
 
 all  the  inferior  animals  possess  the  guiding  faculty  in  a  certain 
 degree,  for  many  are  under  the  necessity  of  migration  for  various 
 purposes  ;  and  all,  in  a  state  of  nature,  are  frequently  compelled 
 to  travel  considerable  distances  for  food.  The  American  salt- 
 licks vi^ere  sometimes  at  the  distance  of  fifteen  hundred  miles 
 of  swamp  and  forest  from  the  grazing  ground  of  the  deer  and 
 buffaloes.  The  paths  made  by  those  animals  in  their  yearly 
 passages,  were  the  original  highways  of  the  Indians.  The 
 Indian  sagacity  in  marching  through  the  forest,  is  proverbial ; 
 yet  it  is  merely  the  sagacity  of  attending  to  natural  marks  or 
 indications  of  previous  travel.  But  no  trace  is  discoverable  in 
 man  of  that  faculty  by  which  the  herring  descends  from  the 
 Arctic  circle,  to  make  its  way  annually  into  the  harbours  of 
 Europe,  or  the  salmon  returns  from  the  ocean,  year  by  year,  to 
 deposit  its  young  in  the  self-same  river  ;  or,  by  which  the  swal- 
 low springs  from  the  roof  of  the  English  cottage  into  the  fields 
 of  air,  sweeps  boldly  across  the  ocean  to  Africa,  and  returns  at 
 the  due  season,  almost  at  the  due  hour.  The  ganglions  in  the 
 nostrils  of  the  dog  and  other  animals  living  by  the  chase,  have 
 been  conjectured  to  have  some  connexion  with  this  faculty  ;  but 
 its  effects  are  still  inexplicable  by  any  known  organ  of  animal 
 nature. 
 
CREATION.  63 
 
 lightness  and  beauty,  dyed  with  every  ting-e  of  the 
 rainbow,  to  monsters  of  the  deep,  fierce  and  power- 
 ful, made  for  darkness  and  the  storm ;  but  all  in 
 full  activity,  all  one  scene  of  impulse  and  enjoy- 
 ment, darting,  diving,  sporting,  chasing  their  food, 
 or  steering  their  way  in  columns  of  millions  through 
 the  wildernesses  of  the  deep,  from  climate  to  cli- 
 mate ;  and  all  exhibiting  the  most  varied  and 
 perfect  fitness  in  their  organs,  in  the  expedients 
 for  the  protection  of  those  organs  from  the  action 
 of  the  surrounding  element,  in  their  means  of 
 motion,  of  provision,  the  preservation  of  their  off- 
 spring, the  simple,  but  unfailing  mechanism,  by 
 which  they  ascend  and  descend  through  the  vary- 
 ing weights  of  the  ocean,  and  the  exquisite  pro- 
 portion sustained  between  its  gravity  and  the  mag- 
 nitude of  each  species,  a  proportion  which  seems 
 to  require  a  new  formula,  not  only  in  every  species, 
 but  in  every  individual,  and  even  in  every  stage  of 
 the  growth  of  the  individual. 
 
 The  peopling  of  the  air,  if  we  are  to  judge  from 
 the  impressions  of  mortal  eyes,  might  be  a  still 
 more  delightful  spectacle.  Of  all  the  races  of 
 Creation,  the  birds  seem  to  be  the  most  formed  for 
 a  life  of  enjoyment,  and  the  most  expressly  de- 
 signed to  display  the  beauty  that  may  invest  ani- 
 mal nature.     On  this  day,  their  millions  \  dipt 
 
 *  An  additional  similitiide  of  the  tribes  of  air  and  ocean  is 
 their  extraordinary  power  of  production.     The  multitude  of  both 
 
64  CREATION. 
 
 in  every  hue  of  earth  and  cloud,  and  furnished  with 
 powers  to  enjoy  the  whole  range  of  both,  were  sent 
 forth  to  diversify  the  young  world  with  their  beauty 
 and  their  song.  But  in  the  construction  of  those 
 two  great  tribes,  a  new  treasure  of  knowledge  was 
 opened.  The  vegetable  kingdom  had  already  dis- 
 played brilliant  secrets  of  organization,  but  the 
 provision  for  the  principle  of  animal  life  introduced 
 an  organization  totally  new,  varied  beyond  human 
 count,  and  possessing  a  combination  of  the  finest 
 mechanism  which  we  can  comprehend,  with  in- 
 fluences of  which  we  know  nothino;  but  the  name. 
 For  the  first  time,  was  seen  that  system  of  incom- 
 parable contrivance  which  constitutes  the  animal 
 fabric — brain,  nerve,  organs  of  voice,  of  respira- 
 tion, of  the  senses,  the  still  insolveable  problem  of 
 muscular  action,  the  circulation  of  that  astonishing 
 compound — the  blood,  which,  perpetually  wasting 
 and  perpetually  renewed,  the  great  instrument,  if 
 not  the  actual  vehicle  of  life,  pervading  the  ten 
 thousand  times  ten  thousand  veins  and  vessels  of 
 the  frame,  pours  and  shoots,  and  glows  and  stimu- 
 lates, alike  in  labour  and  rest,  day  and  night,  for 
 
 which  migrate  annually  from  breeding  places  where  they  are 
 undisturbed  baffles  all  calculation.  Two  hundred  millions  of 
 pilchards  have  been  supposed  to  be  at  one  time  in  one  of  the 
 Cornish  bays  ;  the  annual  migration  of  herrings  from  the  north 
 is  by  columns,  which  darken  the  sea  for  leagues.  Yet  the  num- 
 ber of  species  differ  widely.  The  fish  are  about  900,  the  birds 
 already  ascertained  are  nearly  6000. 
 
CREATION.  65 
 
 a  hundred  years  together,  without  an  effort  of  the 
 body  or  the  mind  '. 
 
 The  sixth  and  last  day  of  creation  exhibited  tlie 
 same  progressive  superiority,  in  a  general  applica- 
 tion of  the  Divine  powers,  still  more  extensive  in 
 their  use,  and  higher  in  their  object,  again  followed 
 by  the  development  of  a  totally  new  principle. 
 The  air  and  ocean  had  each  received  its  dwellers. 
 The  land  was  now  to  receive  four  great  classes  of 
 animal  life  at  once  ;  three  of  those,  the  beast  of 
 the  field,  the  reptile,  and  the  insect,  possessing  the 
 various  organization  fitted  for  their  purposes  of 
 existence,  but  distinguished  from  the  classes  of 
 the  air  and  the  waters,  by  the  keener  intelligence 
 demanded  by  their  difference  of  position.  The 
 Creator  does  nothing  in  vain.  The  fish  and  the 
 fowl  had  been  placed  in  elements  which  gave  them 
 a    remarkable   degree   of  security^  :    not  one   in 
 
 1  The  veins  in  man,  and  in  all  the  chief  classes  of  animal  life, 
 are  much  more  numerous  than  we  can  conceive  from  the  inspection 
 of  anatomical  plates.  Like  the  nerves,  they  are  beyond  all  cal- 
 culation. The  point  of  a  gnat's  proboscis,  almost  too  fine  for 
 the  microscope,  cannot  strike  into  any  part  of  the  human  frame, 
 without  producing  pain  and  drawing  blood ;  in  other  words, 
 without  finding  both  a  nerve  and  a  vein. 
 
 *  It  is  computed  that  the  product  of  two  codfish  (seven  mil- 
 lions) would  supply  the  whole  usual  consumption  of  mankind. 
 The  general  multiplication  of  fish  is  prodigious  ;  the  codfish 
 three  millions  and  a  half,  the  flounder  a  million  and  a  half,  the 
 mackerel  half  a  million,  &c.     Much  of  this  may  be  provided  for 
 
 F 
 
66  CREATION. 
 
 myriads  of  either  is  to  be  reached  by  the  injury  of 
 the  seasons,  by  the  sterility  of  the  soil,  or  by  the 
 pursuit  of  the  great  destroyer,  man.  They  take 
 wing  to  the  clouds,  they  plunge  into  the  abyss.  In- 
 stinct is  therefore  their  chief  guide.  But  the  tribes 
 of  earth,  down  to  the  lowest  insect,  are  placed  in 
 a  perpetual  state  of  exposure.  Inflexible  instinct 
 would  leave  them  at  the  mercy  of  their  perpetual 
 pursuers  ;  they  are  therefore  provided  with  flexible 
 reason.  Air,  soil,  sun,  human  skill,  every  change 
 of  season,  strongly  afl'ects  their  existence.  The 
 sagacity  of  the  animals  of  the  forest,  in  securing 
 their  prey,  sheltering  their  lair,  evading  pursuit, 
 and  protecting  their  young,  is  therefore  rapid  and 
 vigilant.  But  in  this  instance,  as  in  all,  rapidity  and 
 amplitude  of  view,  and  the  full  comprehension 
 of  properties  and  purposes,  must  give  a  sense 
 of  delight  incommunicable  by  the  tardy  progress 
 of  man.  We  know  with  what  pleased  and  eager 
 diligence  the  naturalist  investigates  every  peculi- 
 arity of  a  new  species  ;  but  what  must  be  the  in- 
 crease of  that  interest,  if  he  were  to  be  shown  the 
 hills  and  plains  of  a  continent  suddenly  crowded 
 
 the  support  of  the  other  tribes  of  the  deep ;  but  it  points  to  a 
 boundless  provision  laid  up  for  the  future  extent  of  population. 
 The  wood-pigeons  of  America  migrate  in  columns  several  miles 
 broad,  and  several  days'  journey  long.  A  few  are  killed,  but 
 the  infinite  multitude  wing  their  way  beyond  the  reach  of  man. 
 One  of  those  columns  has  been  computed  at  two  thousand  mil- 
 lions ! 
 
CREATION.  67 
 
 with  myriads  of  animals,  all  unknown  before,  and 
 of  every  rank  of  configuration,  force,  use,  and 
 beauty ;  from  the  mass  of  the  elephant,  and  the 
 muscular  vigour  and  fierce  activity  of  the  lion  and 
 the  tiger,  to  the  flexible  grace  of  the  antelope, 
 and  the  silvery  whiteness  and  sleekness  of  the 
 ermine ;  or  what  infinite  and  delighted  specula- 
 tion would  not  be  expanded  for  him,  even  in  the 
 sino^le  class  of  the  insect  world ^  ?  It  is  remark- 
 able,  and  might  almost  be  taken  as  a  tacit  rebuke 
 to  human  vanity,  that  in  a  part  of  the  Creation 
 least  of  all  applicable  to  human  uses,  or  subject  to 
 human  control,  Nature  should  have  been  most 
 elaborate,  lavish,  and  fantastic.  All  her  contriv- 
 ances in  the  higher  animals  are  absolutely  penu- 
 rious to  the  measureless  variety  with  which  she 
 has  supplied  the  insect  races  ; — to  the  talons, 
 spikes,  saws,  blades,  screws,  pincers,  wheels,  fangs, 
 and  spears,  with  which  she  has  armed  them — to 
 their  instruments  of  motion,  the  multitudinous  feet, 
 springs,  spirals,  circles  of  ribs,  fins,  webs,  wings — 
 to  their  brilliancy  of  covering,  the  plate  and   ring 
 
 1  The  insect  species  are,  beyond  all  proportion,  the  most  nu- 
 merous. Every  naturalist  discovers  some  addition  to  their 
 numbers.  Those  hitherto  discovered  are  supposed  to  amount  to 
 nearly  400,000;  yet  probably  not  above  two-thirds  of  the 
 existing  species  are  yet  known.  The  interior  of  Southern  Ame- 
 rica, Central  Africa,  Central  India,  Tartary,  China,  the  islands 
 of  the  Chinese  Archipelago,  have  yet  to  be  examined  in  detail 
 The  insects  of  Britain  alone  are  little  short  of  10,000. 
 
 F  2 
 
68  CREATION. 
 
 armour,  mail  of  every  hue  of  metal  and  gem  ;  the 
 robes  of  richer  texture  than  silk  and  velvet,  stud- 
 ded with  sparks  of  the  topaz  and  the  diamond — to 
 their  phosphoric  lustre,  arrowy  power  of  wing,  and 
 extraordinary  brightness  and  extent  of  vision — to 
 their  double  and  triple  states  of  being  ;  changes  so 
 striking  and  so  beautiful,  that,  in  all  ages,  they 
 have  been  assumed  as  the  emblem  of  the  change 
 from  earth  to  immortality'. 
 
 '  The  Scarabaeus  is  a  well-known  Egyptian  emblem  ;  but  the 
 butterfly  tribe  have  been  the  chief  subject  of  this  similitude  with 
 the  more  elegant  Greeks.  Psyche  habitually  bears  a  butterfly  on 
 her  forehead.  From  a  caterpillar,  a  remarkably  slow  insect,  feed- 
 ing on  the  coarser  vegetables,  gradually  growing  torpid,  and  enclos- 
 ing itself  in  a  case,  where  it  dies  ;  the  butterfly  suddenly  emerges 
 from  its  mummy  chest,  or  self-constructed  tomb, with  a  total  change 
 of  being,  with  new  propensities,  powers,  enjoyments,  and  scenes 
 of  enjoyment.  The  creeping  feet,  the  deformed  and  rapacious 
 mouth,  the  minute  eyes,  are  all  gone.  It  is  now  a  creature,  all 
 whose  forms  and  movements  are  beauty  :  it  has  a  delicate  curled 
 tube  for  sucking  the  honey,  on  which  alone  it  now  lives ;  an- 
 tennae, of  exquisite  and  probably  delighted  sensibility  of  touch  ; 
 two  eyes,  vast  in  proportion  to  its  form,  or  rather  two  casements 
 of  many  thousand  lenses,  which  must  give  it  the  range  of  the 
 whole  horizon  ;  and  is  borne  on  wings  of  remarkable  force,  size, 
 and  proverbial  richness  of  colouring,  on  which  it  sweeps  in  per- 
 petual flight,  spending  its  life  among  scents  and  blossoms. 
 
 In  opposition  to  views  like  those,  of  the  original  flUing  of  the 
 earth  with  animal  existence,  it  has  been  argued  that  but  a  pair 
 of  each  species  might  have  been  created,  as  in  the  instance  of 
 man  ;  and  the  replenishing  of  the  land,  air,  and  ocean  thenceforth 
 left  to  the  natural  progress  of  increase.  But  to  this,  the  obvious 
 answer  is,  that  the  reasons  which  exist  in  the  instance   of  man. 
 
CREATION.  69 
 
 The  crowning  glory  of  the  six  days  was  to  come. 
 Physical  power,  animal  aft'ections,  and  active  in- 
 telligence, had  been  already  evolved  in  conjunc- 
 tion   with   matter  ;  but  a   being  was  now   to  be 
 
 namely,  the  social  duties  resulting  from  acknowledged  descent, 
 as  filial  obedience  and  the  ties  of  brotherhood  and  parentage,  are 
 applicable  to  man  alone ;  that  there  was  no  similarity  in  the 
 declared  process  by  which  man  and  the  inferior  animals  were 
 first  formed,  man  being  the  immediate  work  of  the  Divine  hand, 
 while  the  latter  were  produced  by  a  general  command  to  the 
 elements  ("And  God  said,  Let  the  waters  bring  forth  abun- 
 dantly the  moving  creature  that  hath  life,  and  fowl  that  may  fly 
 above  the  earth,"  Gen.  i.  20.) ;  that  there  is  no  higher  proba- 
 bility that  the  immense  expanses  of  the  world  were  left  to  a 
 single  pair  of  each  species  of  animals,  than  that  they  were  left  to 
 a  single  tree,  herb,  or  blade  of  grass  of  each  species,  a  paucity 
 which  would  have  left  the  earth  bare,  have  rendered  it  unfit  for 
 human  support  for  thousands  of  years  to  come,  and  prohibited 
 the  very  existence  of  Eden  ;  that  even  the  extraordinary  power 
 of  multiplication  among  the  lower  animals  seems  to  be  rather  for 
 the  purpose  of  keeping  up  the  original  proportion,  by  preventing 
 the  extermination  of  any  race,  thanof  increasing  their  numbers  ; 
 that  from  the  beginning  a  large  provision  must  have  been  made 
 in  the  numbers  of  the  weaker  animals,  for  the  food  of  the  more 
 powerful  carnivorous  species  ;  and  that  it  is  perfectly  improbable 
 that  the  existence  of  any  species  would  be  left  to  the  chance  of 
 being  extinguished  in  the  individual  ;  that,  lastly,  we  have  no 
 evidence  in  Scripture  to  authorize  any  other  idea  than  that  the 
 earth  in  its  luxuriance,  and  the  creatures  of  the  earth  in  their 
 multitude,  were  the  objects  of  that  blessing  by  which  the  finished 
 work  was  pronounced  to  be  "  very  good."  The  case  of  the 
 earth  after  the  Flood  is  of  a  different  order  ;  it  is  that  of  a  world 
 recovering  from  a  Divine  infliction,  not  of  a  world  in  its  pristine 
 richness  and  repletion. 
 
70  CREATION. 
 
 formed,  exhibiting  all  those  qualities  in  a  superior 
 degree ;  a  more  penetrating  and  various  intelli- 
 gence, passion  more  sensitive  and  elevated,  and  a 
 finer  and  more  applicable  combination  of  physical 
 power.  Without  wandering  into  so  attractive  a 
 subject  as  the  general  nature  of  man,  three  cha- 
 racteristics may  be  observed,  as  constituting  a  pal- 
 pable distinction  between  him  and  all  other  ani- 
 mals. His  thirst  of  knowledge ;  or,  in  its  lower 
 degree,  that  eager  curiosity  which  makes  him 
 perpetually  seek  mental  excitement ;  an  impulse 
 variously  existing  in  every  race  and  every  rank  of 
 mankind,  producing,  in  its  perversion,  a  large 
 share  of  the  follies  and  crimes  of  society,  but  in  its 
 natural  and  nobler  exercise,  much  of  our  highest 
 enjoyment,  our  most  active  utility,  and  the  whole 
 dominion  of  man  over  the  material  world.  An- 
 other of  those  great  features  was  his  Improvahility . 
 The  faculties  and  acquirements  of  the  brute  soon 
 arrive  at  their  limit,  a  thousand  generations  would 
 not  advance  them  further ;  but  man,  by  his 
 inextinguishable  ardour  for  novelty,  and  by  his 
 exclusive  means  of  transmitting  knowledge  from 
 generation  to  generation,  perpetually  accumulates 
 intellectual  opulence.  Thus  nothing  perishes. 
 Every  generation,  as  it  goes  down  to  the  grave, 
 throws  its  contribution  into  the  universal  treasury  ; 
 every  hand  lays  a  stone  on  the  pyramid  of  intel- 
 lectual dominion ;  the  young  generation  comes 
 into  life,   not  the  helpless  heir  of  a  soil  which  its 
 
CREATION.  71 
 
 own  labours  must  force  into  fertility,  but  the  heir 
 of  all  the  cultivation  of  all  the  old  successive 
 masters  of  the  land.  Yet,  unlike  all  other,  the 
 mental  culture  never  wears  out  the  around.  Everv 
 advance  is  in  the  direction  of  first  principles.  The 
 more  vigorous  the  intellect  that  leads  the  way, 
 the  more  rapid  is  the  simplification  of  its  dis- 
 coveries. Everv  invasion  into  the  kino'dom  of 
 ignorance,  furnishes  a  new  force  for  still  larger 
 triumph  ;  every  new^  exertion  actually  generates 
 new  instruments  of  power :  progress  is  thus  ut- 
 terly unrestrained.  With  the  immeasurable  depths 
 and  heights  of  nature  for  the  exercise  of  the  un- 
 derstanding, and  with  its  largest  acquisitions  act- 
 ing, not  as  an  incumbrance,  but  a  stimulant,  not 
 as  a  w^eight,  but  a  wing,  it  is  palpably  designed 
 to  expatiate,  enjoy,  and  conquer,  for  ever. 
 
 The  third  distinguishing  attribute  of  man  was 
 of  a  still  loftier  order.   The  moral  sense  ^ — a  totally 
 
 *  Paley's  "  selfish  doctrine"  of  Expediency  has  been  long 
 since  exploded,  as  a  plagiarism  from  Hume's  profligate  doc- 
 trine of  Utility ;  but  his  denial  of  the  Moral  Sense  still  has  its 
 advocates.  It  is  surprising  to  find  so  matter-of-fact  a  reasoner 
 rejecting  a  doctrine  founded  on  the  experience  of  every  man, 
 and  rejecting  it  on  such  slippery  grounds  as,  that  different  na- 
 tions have  had  different  estimates  of  the  acts  which  constitute 
 vice ;  that  theft  lost  its  crimmality  in  Sparta,  or  suicide  in 
 Rome,  as  cannibalism  does  in  New  Zealand,  or  duelling 
 in  France.  He  forgets,  that  he  is  here  confounding  the  law 
 with  the  judge  ;  that  it  is  the  opinion  of  society  which  makes 
 the  vice,   (supposing  the  law  of  God  unknown.)     But  it  is  the 
 
72  CREATION. 
 
 new  principle,  by  which  his  nature  was  to  be  con- 
 nected with  the  beings  of  another  existence ;  a 
 divine  portal,  which  opened  to  him  the  percep- 
 tions of  the  world  of  spirits,  sacred  obedience, 
 faith,  and  hope ;  the  communion  of  the  great 
 family  of  heaven  ;  the  inheritance  of  happiness 
 beyond  all  duration  or  degree  ;  the  whole  uncir- 
 cumscribed  vision  of  immortality. 
 
 This  intellect  was  clothed  in  a  form  worthy  of 
 its  rank.  We  justly  call  that  perfect,  to  which 
 we  cannot  conceive  any  superior ;  and  such  is  the 
 
 moral  sense  which  instantly  declares  to  the  individual  his  trans- 
 gression of  that  opinion,  and  condemns  him  accordingly.  Paley 
 objects,  that  the  wild  boy  of  Hanover  would  not  exhibit  a 
 moral  sense  on  hearing  the  story  of  a  Roman  parricide.  True. 
 And  for  this  reason,  that  the  moral  sense  being  solely  exercised 
 on  acts  declared,  by  human  convention  or  Divine  law,  to  be 
 right  or  wrong,  and  a  solitary  savage  in  the  woods  of  Hanover 
 having  no  knowledge  of  either,  the  moral  sense  could  not  be 
 brought  into  action.  It  would  be  a  judge  without  a  tribunal. 
 But  the  more  direct  answer  to  all  doubts  of  the  doctrine,  is  the 
 appeal  to  experience.  It  may  be  unhesitatingly  said,  that  no 
 man,  in  possession  of  his  understanding,  ever  committed  an  act 
 of  acknowledged  guilt,  without  feeling  at  the  instant  the  con- 
 demning principle — the  moral  sense,  conscience,  busy  in  his 
 breast.  Its  purpose  is  not  to  decide  on  the  guilt,  or  the  degree 
 of  guilt  of  actions ;  but  to  strike  the  doer  of  actions,  already 
 declared  guilty,  with  a  feeling  of  wrong.  He  may  refuse  to 
 obey  the  conviction,  but  he  cannot  refuse  to  hear  the  monitor. 
 Perhaps  there  is  no  state  of  the  mind,  however  desperate  and 
 depraved,  in  which  conscience  does  not  retain  its  power  to  pene- 
 trate. Its  warnings  may  be  useless ;  but  if  they  cannot  cure, 
 they  still  sting. 
 
CREATION.  73 
 
 perfect  beauty  of  the  human  form  in  Its  finer  in- 
 stances, that  it  actually  reaches  the  highest  flight 
 of  even  that  soaring  and  fastidious  thing,  the 
 imagination  of  man.  We  may  create  in  fancy, 
 but  we  have  before  us  the  limit  of  all  loveliness 
 conceivable  by  human  thought.  Let  the  doubter 
 make  the  experiment,  and  he  will  find  that,  in 
 his  highest  conception  of  beauty,  he  is  always 
 borrowing  from  the  human  form.  Even  his  angel 
 is  but  a  youth  with  wings. 
 
 But  admirable  as  the  form,  the  faculties,  and  the 
 spirit,  of  the  first  man  might  have  appeared  to 
 the  sons  of  heaven,  still  loftier  contemplations 
 must  have  been  connected  with  him  as  the  head 
 of  mankind.  Whatever  may  be  the  ties  that  bind 
 the  spiritual  world,  we  know  that  parentage  is 
 not  among  them  ;  and  the  absence  of  a  tie,  which 
 with  us  constitutes  the  primal  and  universal 
 source  of  social  obligation,  implies  a  totally  dif- 
 ferent construction  of  society.  In  the  idea  of  pa- 
 rentage, new  foundations  of  society  lay  before  their 
 sight,  the  gradual  existence  of  countless  millions, 
 with  their  result  in  the  formation  of  empires,  the 
 progressive  knowledge,  the  increasing  happiness, 
 the  tried  and  triumphant  virtue,  the  whole  vivid 
 and  diversified  machinery  of  a  vast  and  novel 
 system  of  moral  impulses,  calculated  to  exist  for 
 thousands  of  years,  and  to  exhibit,  in  novel  and 
 perpetual  action,  the  mercy  and  the  wisdom  of 
 the  Supreme. 
 
74  CREATION. 
 
 But,  elevated  and  cheering  as  this  view  must 
 be,  to  beings  equal  to  its  complete  and  instant 
 apprehension,  why  are  we  to  conceive  that  their 
 view  was  chained  down  to  our  diminutive  globe  ? 
 Why,  if  the  original  act  of"  Deity  in  calling  the 
 universe  into  existence,  was  made  a  source  of 
 angelic  rejoicing,  should  the  furnishing  .of  the 
 universe  with  life  have  been  hidden  from  them  ? 
 Why  should  the  great  productive  process,  which 
 had  so  richly  developed  the  resources  of  the  Di- 
 vine hand  in  the  earth,  have  been  checked  in  the 
 expanse  of  the  skies  ?  And  why  should  the  high 
 capacities,  ardent  affections,  and  devoted  love  of 
 angels  ;  those  who  "  always  behold  the  face  of 
 their  Father  in  heaven,"  and  are  formed  to  exult 
 in  every  new  declaration  of  his  attributes,  have 
 been  shut  out  from  so  magnificent  a  revelation  of 
 his  sovereignty  as  the  simultaneous  repletion  of 
 the  starry  worlds  with  the  living  works  of  his 
 will. 
 
CHAPTER  IV. 
 
 THE  PLANETARY  WORLDS. 
 
 That  the  orbs  of  our  system  are  inhabited,  and 
 inhabited  by  embodied  minds,  perhaps  not  dif- 
 fering in  essentials  from  ourselves,  we  have  all 
 the  evidence  that  analogy  can  give  ;  an  evidence 
 closely  approaching  to  demonstration.  The  gene- 
 ral similitude  of  the  planets  is  so  complete,  that 
 an  observer,  standing  in  the  sun,  would  have  as 
 much  right  to  pronounce  the  earth  ?/?iinhabit' 
 able  as  Mercury  or  the  Georgium  Sidus.  They 
 all  have  the  same  source  of  light,  the  same  rota- 
 tion, the  same  shape,  the  same  form  of  orbit,  the 
 same  direction,  the  same  law  of  impulse  and  at- 
 traction. But  their  habitancy  and  its  nature  may 
 be  still  more  closely  reasoned  from  the  palpable 
 provision  for  that  habitancy  \ 
 
 '  In  the  work  of  the  celebrated  Huygens  on  this  subject, 
 the  Cosmotheros,  deciding  on  the  state  of  the  planetary  popu- 
 lation, rather  illogically,  takes  it  for  granted  that  they  must 
 have  human  organs,  from  the  inconvenience  which  rve  should 
 feel  in  wanting  them  ;  thus,  that  they  must  have  eyes,  because 
 
76  THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS. 
 
 One  universal  characteristic  is  their  provision 
 for  light.  Mercury  and  Venus,  lying  almost  in- 
 volved in  the  beams  of  the  sun,  may  be  supplied 
 by  its  direct  influence  on  atmospheres  of  obvious 
 and  extraordinary  brilliancy.  But,  as  the  planets 
 sweep  wider  circles,  the  dispersion  of  the  solar 
 rays  is  palpably  compensated  by  vast  reflectors, 
 moons,  increasino;  in  number  with  the  distance. 
 Jupiter,  at  five  times  our  distance  from  the  sun, 
 has  four  moons,  whose  varied  velocities  seem  to 
 surround  it  with  a  perpetual  circle  of  illumination. 
 Saturn,  at  double  the  distance  of  Jupiter,  suffer- 
 ing still  more  by  the  dispersion,  has  seven  moons. 
 But  as  even  this  number  is  disproportioned  to  the 
 distance,  and  as  a  larger  number  of  those  huge 
 bodies,  rolling  rapidly  round  a  planet  whose 
 density  is  eight  times  less  than  that  of  the  earth, 
 probably  might  derange  its  tides,  its  revolution, 
 or  even  its  frame,  an  expedient  is  adopted  in  the 
 well  known  ring,  a  twofold  reflector,  30,000  miles 
 broad,   and  suspended    30,000   miles   above   the 
 
 Tve  require  them  ;  hands,  because  we  should  not  be  able  to 
 work  with  hoofs,  &c.  Fontenelle's  "  Plurality  of  Worlds"  is 
 merely  a  trifling  and  petty  romance,  adapted  to  the  toilet  of  his 
 day,  and  unworthy  of  any  other  designation  in  ours.  Lalande, 
 and  some  of  the  later  French  Savans,  have  endeavoured  to  give 
 it  importance  by  learned  remarks ;  but  its  original  frivolity  is 
 invincible. 
 
 A  much  more  interesting  volume,  on  the  Plurality  of  Worlds, 
 as  connected  with  religious  views,  was  published  several  years 
 since  by  that  intelligent  divine,  Dr.  Nares. 
 
THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS.  77 
 
 planet,  forming;  an  arch  of  light  from  edge  to 
 edge  of  the  horizon,  holding  an  invariable  position 
 in  the  skies,  and  doubtless  offering  a  most  superb 
 spectacle  to  those  regions  of  Saturn,  over  which 
 the  double  arch,  probably  coloured  with  every 
 changing  hue  of  day,  pours  down  the  steady 
 splendour  of  the  sun.  The  Georgium  Sidus,  at 
 the  almost  inconceivable  distance  of  twice  the 
 diameter  of  the  orbit  of  Saturn,  with  the  solar 
 radiance  two  thousand  times  less  than  at  Mercury, 
 and  seeino;  the  sun  itself  diminished  to  a  twinklino- 
 star,  is  too  remote  for  an  exact  knowledge  of  its 
 system.  But  it  evidently  has  two  satellites;  the 
 existence  of  four  more  is  nearly  established  ;  and 
 it  is  the  opinion  of  the  chief  authorities  on  such 
 subjects,  that  it  may  have  ten  times  the  number. 
 
 Mars  is  the  only  exception  to  this  progressive 
 increase  of  satellites;  but  his  flame- coloured  orb 
 implies  some  extraordinary  distinction  in  his  mat- 
 ter, or  in  his  powers  of  receiving  light.  The  old 
 measurements  of  the  height  of  his  atmosphere 
 have  been  doubted  ;  but  we  are  still  too  slightly 
 informed  of  the  effects  of  the  chemical  combina- 
 tion of  light  with  atmosphere,  to  decide  that  a 
 change  of  the  simplest  kind  in  the  air  might  not 
 render  it  totally  and  essentially  luminous.  We 
 see  on  how  large  a  scale,  and  from  what  unpro- 
 mising sources  phosphorescence  is  produced  on 
 earth  ;  even  m.ere  height  would  accomplish  the 
 purpose  of  perfect  illumination;    a  few  hundred 
 
78  THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS. 
 
 miles  added  to  our  atmosphere  would  banish  night 
 from  the  globe. 
 
 But  why  are  those  striking  and  vast  contrivances 
 adopted  ?  We  know  the  uses  of  light  in  our 
 world.  Why  shall  we  doubt  that,  in  the  planets 
 as  in  the  earth,  it  was  made  to  be  seen ;  and  that 
 where  it  existed,  there  were  organs  by  which  it 
 could  be  seen  ?  But  the  analogy  extends  through 
 every  point  of  the  scale  :  ever\^  planet  has  its  day 
 and  night.  What  is  to  forbid  our  conceiving  that 
 this  grateful  revolution  implies,  with  them  as  with 
 us,  alternate  labour  and  rest,  waking  and  sleep, 
 and  beings  organized  to  exert  the  activity  of  the 
 one  period,  and  enjoy  the  refreshment  of  the' 
 other  ? 
 
 Every  planet  has  its  period  of  extreme  recess 
 from  the  sun,  and  its  inclination  of  the  pole  to  the 
 ecliptic'.  Thus  provided  with  winter  and  summer, 
 why  are  we  to  doubt  that  they  have  the  natural 
 adjuncts  of  winter  and  summer  among  ourselves, 
 — seed-time  and  harvest,  the  labours  and  enjoy- 
 
 '  This  universal  inclination  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
 evidences  of  the  general  similarity  of  purpose.  The  inclination 
 is  absolutely  necessary  to  give  full  effect  to  the  movement  in 
 the  orbit ;  for  the  difference  of  winter  and  summer,  arising 
 merely  from  the  difference  of  the  greater  and  lesser  axis,  would 
 otherwise  be  almost  unfelt.  Without  this  inclination,  all  the  pa- 
 rallels from  the  Tropics  would  be  subject  to  an  almost  unvary- 
 ing cold,  increasing  to  the  Poles.  There  would  doubtless  be 
 the  advantages  of  an  unvarying  length  of  day  and  night.  But 
 there  would  be  scarcely  a  perceptible  change  of  seasons. 
 
THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS.  79 
 
 ments  of  agriculture  ?  The  globular  form,  the 
 inclination  of  the  axis  to  the  ecliptic,  and  the  pro- 
 tuberance of  the  equatorial  regions,  are  universal. 
 With  us,  those  properties  are  the  direct  Causes  of 
 variety  of  climate,  difference  in  the  length  of 
 days,  the  great  tropical  changes,  the  trade  wind, 
 the  monsoon,  the  half  year's  day  and  night  of  the 
 poles  ;  with  a  whole  multitude  of  influences, 
 shaping  the  habits  and  exciting  the  efforts  of  the 
 human  race,  and  distinctly  devised  for  this  pur- 
 pose. Why  are  we  to  suppose  that  phenomena 
 in  other  orbs  so  closely  resembling  those,  should 
 be  constructed  without  any  similarity  of  object, 
 or  without  reference  to  being  acted  upon  by  ra- 
 tional existences,  constituted,  as  directly  as  man, 
 to  enjoy  the  purposes  of  their  several  spheres  ? 
 
 But  the  evidence  grows,  with  every  additional 
 glance  at  the  planetary  construction.  The  sur- 
 faces of  all  the  planets  seem  to  have  been  modelled 
 on  that  of  our  own  :  they  all  appear  to  have  seas, 
 mountains,  plains,  and  valleys;  the  snow  at  the 
 poles  of  Mars  is  nearly  as  evident  in  its  regular 
 increase  and  diminution  as  the  snow  in  the  Arctic 
 Circle.  Why  should  not  the  existence  imply  the 
 uses  of  the  ocean,  the  mountain,  the  plain,  and 
 the  valley  ;  and,  with  them,  imply  the  navigator, 
 the  fisher,  the  hunter,  and  the  husbandman,  with 
 all  the  various  connected  faculties,  shapes  of  in- 
 dustry, necessities,  appetites,  excitements,  and 
 enjoyments,  of  body  and  mind  ? 
 7 
 
80  THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS. 
 
 On  earth,  this  construction  is  made  for  bodily 
 organs,  and  can  be  perceived  and  used  only 
 through  bodily  organs.  Yet,  if  those  organs  are 
 limited  to  our  single  planet,  the  waste  of  the 
 materials  of  knowledge  and  possession  will  have 
 been  prolonged  during  six  thousand  years,  on  a 
 scale  of  the  most  startling  magnitude — in  orbs  to 
 which  the  earth  is  but  a  toy  :  in  Saturn,  nine 
 hundred  times  its  dimensions  ;  in  Jupiter,  thirteen 
 hundred  ;  in  the  sun  (for  he,  too,  has  his  day, 
 and  probably  his  year),  thirteen  hundred  thousand 
 times. 
 
 But  the  arsxument  ao;ainst  this  enormous  waste 
 is  stronger  still,  from  the  palpable  abhorrence  of 
 all  waste  in  the  constitution  of  nature.  In  our 
 world,  the  extension  of  existence  is  a  principle. 
 Life  is  generated,  sustained,  and  spread,  wherever 
 life  is  possible :  air,  water,  herb,  clay,  every  leaf, 
 every  drop  of  dew,  all  teem  with  existence. 
 Where  man  has  not  yet  advanced,  there  the  wild 
 beast,  the  bird,  and  the  insect,  tenant  the  space, 
 till  they  retire  before  the  master  of  the  world. 
 If  there  are  desert  tracts,  in  which  nothing  lives, 
 they  are  few,  and  they  are  not  the  less  obviously 
 employed  for  the  purposes  of  supporting  life  in  the 
 happier  districts  of  the  globe  ;  in  heating  or  cooling 
 the  air,  and  thus  maturing  the  harvests,  or  re- 
 freshing the  fiery  skies  of  the  regions  destined  for 
 habitation.  On  the  Zaara  may  depend  largely 
 the  fertility  of  the  wliole  south   of  Europe.     The 
 
Tlin:    PLANETARY   WORLDS.  81 
 
 Siberian  snows  act  as  a  refrigerator  to  the  heat 
 which  might  tarn  the  whole  atmosphere  of  Asia 
 into  pestilence. 
 
 Yet  it  will  easily  be  acknowledged,  that  striking 
 differences  in  the  organization  of  the  planetary 
 inhabitants  must  be  required.  The  differences  of 
 heat  and  light,  which  at  Mercury  were  once  sup- 
 posed to  require  frames  of  basalt  and  eyes  of  crys- 
 tal, may  not  be  important ;  since  we  know  that  a 
 simple  modification  of  the  air  might  equalize  them 
 throughout  the  system.  But  there  are  three 
 sources  of  difference  which  cannot  admit  of  any 
 known  modification;  those  arising  from  the  various 
 lengths  of  the  year,  from  the  various  gravities, 
 and  from  the  various  magnitudes.  The  ten  hours 
 day  and  night  of  Jupiter  with  a  year  of  twelve 
 times  the  length  of  ours  ;  the  Saturnian  year  of 
 nearly  three  times  the  length  of  that  of  Jupiter, 
 a  year  of  more  than  ten  thousand  of  our  days  ; 
 and  the  year  of  the  Georgium  Sidus,  eighty-four 
 times  the  length  of  ours  ;  must  each  imply  great 
 diversities  in  all  their  products,  plants,  and  animals, 
 and  in  the  habits,  instincts,  and  powers  of  the  race 
 equivalent  to  man.  On  earth,  the  simple  addi- 
 tion of  a  month  to  the  j^ear  would  require  a  change 
 in  the  economy  of  the  whole  vegetable  and  living 
 world.  Even  the  different  leno;thsof  the  seasons — in 
 Mercury  a  summer  of  six  weeks,  in  the  Georgium 
 Sidus  of  forty  years — -must  operate  powerfully  in 
 modifying  the  face  of  nature. 
 
 G 
 
82  THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS. 
 
 The  various  gravities  cannot  be  less  operative. 
 On  Jupiter,  the  human  frame  would  break  down 
 by  its  own  weight,  or  the  human  muscles  be  unable 
 to  move  it.  All  the  action  of  beings  possessing 
 but  human  strength  and  stature  must  totally  cease, 
 on  a  globe  exerting  a  triple  or  quadruple  force  of 
 resistance ;  while  in  Mars,  where  the  resistance  is 
 but  a  third  of  the  earth's,  the  human  frame  might 
 grow  to  a  gigantic  height,  and  every  movement 
 be  almost  a  bound  through  the  air.  In  the  newly- 
 discovered  planets,  it  is  computed  that  the  height 
 might  be  still  more  colossal,  and  the  common 
 spring  of  the  human  muscle  might  make  each 
 step  a  flight  fifty  feet  high. 
 
 An  equally  marked  distinction  must  arise  from 
 the  vast  differences  of  magnitude  in  the  orbs  ; 
 presuming,  as  we  may  fairly  do,  that  the  planetary 
 inhabitants  traverse  their  globes  as  freely  as  we  do 
 the  earth.  The  four  hundred  miles  circumference 
 of  Pallas,  and  the  two  hundred  and  sixty  thou- 
 sand of  Jupiter,  must  require  widely  diff'erent 
 powers  in  the  frames  that  are  to  travel  them,  and 
 perhaps  means  as  different  as  the  foot  of  the  tor- 
 toise and  the  pinion  of  the  eagle.  What  must 
 be  the  powers  of  the  form  which  is  to  traverse  the 
 Sun,  more  than  a  million  of  times  the  magnitude 
 of  our  orb,  or  the  feet  which  are  to  scale  its  moun- 
 tains, a  thousand  miles  high  ? 
 
 But  those  distinctions  are  perfectly  consistent 
 with  the  general   idea,  that  the  planetary  worlds 
 
THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS.  83 
 
 are  inhabited,  and  inhabited  by  existences  clothed, 
 like  the  spirit  of  man,  in  material  bodies.  All 
 that  we  can  discover  in  the  laws,  construction,  and 
 adaptation,  of  those  orbs,  is  as  directly  intended 
 for  the  exercise  of  material  organs,  as  the  most  di- 
 rect contrivance  of  earth.  Pure,  bodiless  spirit  can 
 have  no  necessity  for  this  mechanism  ;  for  its  ideas 
 are  not  collected  by  organs.  But  embodied  spirit  has 
 all  conceivable  necessity  ;  for  matter  is  the  source 
 of  all  its  knowledge,  the  subject  on  which  it  acts, 
 the  hourly  means  of  its  existence,  the  sole  medium 
 of  its  intercourse.  When  we  see  the  preparation 
 made  on  so  vast  a  scale,  with  so  minute  a  care, 
 and  sustained  in  such  symmetry,  perfection,  and 
 vigour,  can  we  believe  that  Omnipotence  has 
 wrought  for  nothing,  or  wrought  in  vain?  The 
 natural  conclusion  is,  that  if  the  universal  frame  is 
 made  to  be  known  and  enjoyed  by  organized 
 beings,  there  are  such  beings  to  know  and  enjoy 
 it ;  that  while  the  unbodied  spirits  of  heaven  re- 
 ceive their  knowledge  by  means  still  veiled  from 
 human  conception,  a  new  race  of  spirits,  acquiring 
 their  knowledge  of  creation  and  the  Creator 
 through  the  senses,  fill  the  whole  of  the  planetary 
 worlds. 
 
 But  the  conception  is  entitled  to  ascend  higher 
 still.  The  late  discoveries  of  the  telescope  have 
 abolished  the  name  of  fixed  stars.  There  are  no 
 fixed  stars  :  to  the  farthest  reach  of  vision  all  are 
 in  movement,  revolving  round  each  other.     Thus 
 
 G  2 
 
84  THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS. 
 
 the  same  principle  by  which  a  pebble  falls  to  the 
 ground,  extends  through  the  suns  and  systems  of 
 the  universe.  Their  light  too  is  the  same  with  ours  ; 
 why  not  the  light,  the  gravity,  and  the  motion, 
 for  the  same  purpose,  of  providing  for  the  existence 
 of  beings  of  soul  and  body  ?  Scriptural  authority 
 substantiates  this  truth  by  the  still  more  urgent 
 declarations  of  the  influence  of  the  Atonement  on 
 the  dwellers  in  the  higher  regions  of  the  universe. 
 The  single  instance  from  the  Epistle  to  the  Colos- 
 sians  is  unanswerable,  St.  Paul  describes  the 
 result  of  this  stupendous  act  of  Deity  to  be  "  the 
 reconciliation  of  all  things  unto  himself,  whether 
 they  be  things  in  earth,  or  thiiigs  in  heaven ;"  of 
 course,  sentient  and  intellectual  beings  alike  in 
 both  ;  yet  7iot  angelic,  for  the  fate  of  the  angels  had 
 been  already  decided,  the  guilty  consigned  to 
 chains  and  darkness,  and  the  pure  ''  beholding  the 
 face  of  their  Father  in  heaven." 
 
 If  this  vast  increase  of  view,  the  repletion  of 
 the  universe  with  intellectual  beings,  were  thrown 
 open  to  angelic  inquiry,  the  simplest  display  of 
 their  various  powers  and  habitudes  miglit  be  a 
 source  of  endless  science.  Yet  how  much  must 
 the  gratification  of  even  this  high  inquiry  fall 
 short  of  the  interest  belonging  to  them  as  moral 
 existences ;  the  contemplation  of  their  final  pur- 
 poses in  the  boundless  multitude  of  worlds  ;  the 
 golden  chain  of  causality  by  which  the  Divine 
 determination    is   unconsciously,    yet   inevitably, 
 
THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS.  85 
 
 accomplished  ;  the  prospective  view  of  the  shapes 
 taken  by  individual  character  in  the  infinite  va- 
 riety of  the  universal  struggle  of  good  and  ill  ;  the 
 revolutions  of  the  ten  thousand  empires,  the  con- 
 tinual advances  of  intellectual  power,  noble  pas- 
 sion, generous  ambition,  vivid  knowledge,  and  il- 
 lustrious virtue ;  the  whole  great  instrumentality  by 
 which  the  Sovereign  of  all  stimulates  the  energies 
 and  moulds  the  freewill  of  all.  Is  it  possible  to 
 doubt  that  the  immensity  and  animation  of  such  a 
 view  would  have  formed  a  study  fitting  for  angelic 
 faculties,  capable  of  giving  them  an  increase  of 
 knowledge,  and  even  adapted  to  enlarge  their 
 powers  of  enjoyment ;  or  is  it  possible  to  conceive 
 that  they  who  rejoice  over  the  return  of  a  single 
 sinner,  would  have  been  excluded  in  this  hour  of 
 peculiar  glory  from  the  contemplation  of  scenes 
 made  to  fill  the  highest  natures  with  sacred  sym- 
 pathy for  the  children  of  their  common  Father, 
 and  triumph  in  the  exhaustless  benevolence  of 
 their  King  ? 
 
 Whether  human  science  will  ever  be  enabled  to 
 arrive  at  the  actual  proof  of  planetary  habitancy, 
 may  be  a  question.  But  it  will  be  almost  a  re- 
 proach to  the  industry  of  our  astronomers,  if  we 
 should  be  left  much  longer  destitute  of  this  proof 
 with  respect  to  an  orb  so  near  us  as  the  Moon. 
 Perhaps  the  course  of  astronomical  science,  since 
 the  beginning  of  the  century,  has  been  rather  too 
 
86  THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS. 
 
 ambitious ;  and  both  time  and  ability  have  been 
 wasted  in  exploring  those  remoter  tracts  of  the 
 universe,  which  delight  vigorous  curiosity  more 
 than  they  seem  capable  of  adding  to  available 
 knowledge.  The  imperfection  of  the  telescope  is 
 still  a  reproach  to  our  mechanical  dexterity.  Even 
 in  a  body  so  accessible  as  the  moon,  we  have 
 scarcely  added  to  the  discoveries  of  the  old  seleno- 
 graphers.  In  the  present  state  of  the  telescope, 
 it  is  computed  that  even  a  city  of  the  size  of  Lon- 
 don would  not  be  discoverable  on  the  Lunar  disk, 
 unless  it  were  in  a  state  of  conflagration,  and  then, 
 only  on  the  dark  side  of  the  orb.  Till  we  have 
 superior  means,  of  course,  the  highly  interesting 
 question  of  the  habitancy,  must  wait  for  de- 
 cision. Yet  all  that  we  have  yet  ascertained  of 
 the  actual  configuration  of  the  Lunar  surface, 
 strongly  assists  the  general  idea  of  habitancy.  It 
 palpably  possesses  mountain,  plain,  and  valley. 
 The  chief  distinction  from  our  globe  is,  that  the 
 valleys  are  exceedingly  numerous,  and  apparently 
 of  immense  depth ;  and  that,  independently  of 
 every  shape  of  ridge  and  declivity  of  hill,  it 
 abounds  in  isolated  mountains  rising  from  the 
 centre  of  plains,  forty  or  fifty  miles  in  diameter, 
 and  surrounded  by  lofty  mountain  chains.  Neither 
 clouds,  atmosphere,  or  ocean,  are  yet  discoverable. 
 The  non-existence  of  atmosphere  would  form 
 an  argument  only  against  habitancy  by  beings 
 possessing  the   frame  and  functions  of  man  ;  but 
 
THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS.  87 
 
 if  there  be  no  sea  on  the  hemisphere  turned  to  the 
 earth,  there  would  probably  be  no  clouds  ;  and  if 
 no  clouds,  we  should  be  deprived  of  almost  the 
 only  mode  of  detecting  the  presence  of  an  atmos- 
 phere. The  projection  of  stars  on  the  Lunar  limb, 
 has  been  equally  asserted  and  denied.  Yet  an 
 atmosphere,  proportioned  to  the  magnitude  of  the 
 orb,  might  exist  without  influencing  the  appulse 
 of  a  star  visibly  to  the  telescope.  But  if  volcanoes 
 are  actually  seen  blazing  in  the  dark  phase,  as  a 
 crowd  of  astronomers  contend,  and  among  them 
 the  great  observer,  the  late  Herschell ;  the  moon 
 must  have  an  atmosphere ;  or  if  the  conical  hills 
 tFiat  spot  her  disk,  have  all  been  volcanic,  as  is 
 the  opinion  of  his  distinguished  son,  her  atmos- 
 phere may  have  existed  since  the  hour  of  her 
 creation. 
 
 Thus  the  argument  from  the  general  repletion 
 of  nature,  remains  unaltered.  While  we  see  every 
 leaf  on  earth  teeming  with  life,  why  are  we  to 
 conceive  that  so  vast  a  space  as  the  surface  of  a 
 sphere  6,000  miles  in  circumference  is  utterly 
 destitute  of  living  existence  ?  Or,  that  while  it 
 affords  such  various  and  powerful  displays  of  the 
 Divine  agency,  it  should  not  contain  intellects 
 capable  of  being  excited  and  elevated  by  their 
 knowledge.  The  surface  of  the  moon  probably 
 abounds  in  landscapes  of  surpassing  loveliness. 
 Its  deep  central  valleys  and  precipitous  hills, 
 present  the  picture  of  our  boldest  Alpine  regions, 
 
88  THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS. 
 
 transferred  to  a  tropical  climate ;  but  its  chief 
 characteristic,  the  isolated  hills,  may  be  of  yet 
 more  striking  beauty.  We  can  scarcely  conceive 
 a  combination  more  fitted  for  the  display  of  all 
 natural  loveliness,  than  a  noble  mountain,  a  per- 
 fect cone,  two  miles  high,  shooting  up  from  the 
 bosom  of  a  vast  valley,  surrounded  with  a  moun- 
 tain chain  of  an  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  If  the 
 common  fertility  of  nature,  which  we  find  so 
 varied  and  so  irrestrainable  on  earth,  should  have 
 thrown  vegetation  over  this  fine  frame,  what 
 boundless  and  rich  diversity  of  field  and  forest 
 might  not  spread  before  the  eye  in  the  countless 
 depths  and  heights,  the  luxuriant  sides  and  bright 
 pinnacles  of  the  mountains,  and  the  shaded  glens 
 and  declivities  at  their  feet;  and  all,  like  the 
 gardens  of  the  Abyssinian  tale,  shut  in  from  the 
 surrounding  world. 
 
 But,  to  the  inhabitants  of  this  fine  satellite,  the 
 night  may  be  scarcely  less  lovely  than  the  day. 
 To  them  our  globe  must  present  a  spectacle, 
 altogether  superior  to  any  exhibited  to  us  in  the 
 heavens ;  they  see  it  as  a  moon,  pouring  down  a 
 flood  of  illumination  from  a  disk  nearly  sixteen 
 times  the  size  of  tlieir  orb  to  us.  It  has  all  the 
 varieties  of  increase,  full,  and  wane ;  but  it  al- 
 ways remains  fixed  in  the  same  point  of  their 
 heaven — to  some  always  in  the  horizon,  to  others 
 always  in  the  zenith ;  but  to  all  exhibiting  a  va- 
 riety which  is  not  given  to  the  inhabitant  of  earth, 
 
THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS.  89 
 
 in  either  sun  or  star.  All  its  regions  arc  seen 
 revolving  before  the  eye  every  twenty-four  hours. 
 The  illumination  must  be  of  great  power,  for  its 
 effects  on  the  lunar  disk  are  distinctly  visible  even 
 at  the  immense  distance  between  the  spheres. 
 
 With  the  same  year,  the  moon  has  a  day  and 
 a  night  fifteen  times  the  length  of  ours.  And  it 
 is  not  improbable  that  the  peculiar  configuration 
 of  its  almost  innumerable  hills  and  valleys  may 
 be  for  the  purpose  of  shelter  against  the  excessive 
 and  prolonged  exposure  to  the  light  and  heat.  In 
 those  immense  valleys,  shielded  by  their  depth, 
 and  by  the  walls  of  precipice  above  them,  may 
 be  gathered  the  chief  population,  those  cities 
 which  we  vainly  look  for  on  the  surface,  and  the 
 more  abundant  vegetable  and  animal  means  of 
 supporting  life.  However  undecided  all  conjec- 
 ture on  the  subject  must  be,  it  is  unquestionable 
 that  shade  is  provided  in  a  much  larger  propor- 
 tion than  on  the  earth  ;  that  fissures  and  moun- 
 tains exist  in  extraordinary  numbers ;  and,  as  is 
 discoverable  by  the  common  telescope,  that,  ex- 
 cept at  the  brief  period  of  full  moon,  the  disk  is 
 singularly  covered  with  slanting  pyramids  of 
 shade,  or  masses  of  darkness  thrown  forward  from 
 the  sides  of  the  precipices.  This  shelter  may  be 
 rendered  necessary  by  the  absence  of  an  ocean, 
 with  us  the  great  temperer  of  climate  and  re- 
 fresher of  the  air.  And  such  precautions  and  coun- 
 terbalances  cannot  be  conceived   too  minute  for 
 
90  THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS. 
 
 nature,  when  we  see  even  so  trivial  a  point  in 
 space  as  a  West-India  Island,  rendered  habitable 
 only  by  the  mechanism  of  a  daily  sea  breeze, 
 without  which  it  would  be  a  lazar-house ;  a  per- 
 petual shield  of  cloud  thrown  over  the  equatorial 
 regions,  without  which  they  would  be  a  furnace; 
 and  a  gulf  stream,  in  a  perpetual  circuit  of  warmth 
 and  movement,  renewing  the  healthiness  and  tem- 
 perature of  the  ocean. 
 
 The  absence  of  sea  in  the  moon  has  been  par- 
 tially accounted  for  by  the  extraordinary  deviation 
 from  the  globular  form  which  would  be  necessary 
 against  tides  influenced  by  so  powerful  and  near 
 an  orb  as  the  earth ;  a  deviation  which  might 
 greatly  impede  that  reflection  of  light  declared  to 
 be  one  of  its  principal  purposes  ;  without  taking 
 into  account  the  space  that  must  be  almost  totally 
 lost  to  that  purpose,  by  a  large  expanse  of  waters. 
 Yet  this  does  not  prohibit  the  existence  of  sea  in 
 the  opposite  hemisphere. 
 
 A  striking  distinction  also  is,  that  the  earth  is 
 visible  but  from  one  hemisphere  of  the  moon  : 
 yet  this  distinction  may  only  add  to  the  variety 
 and  interest  of  her  skies.  To  the  dweller  on  the 
 opposite  side,  the  brilliancy  of  the  starry  region  is 
 thus  open,  unimpeded  by  the  overwhelming  efful- 
 gence of  our  orb.  Yet  he  has  but  to  travel  to  the 
 horizon,  to  see  the  grand  luminary  of  his  heaven, 
 the  Earth,  in  whose  pure  magnificence  and  placid 
 glory  he  may  imagine,   even  as  idly  as  we  do  of 
 
THE    PLANETARY    WORLDS.  91 
 
 the  orbs  above  our  heads,  that  he  sees  a  world  in 
 which  guilt  never  trod,  a  guarded  region  of  exist- 
 ence, a  celestial  paradise,  untroubled  by  the  pas- 
 sions of  life  around  him,  and  untouched  by  the 
 grave. 
 
CHAPTER   V. 
 
 THE  MOSAIC  GEOLOGY. 
 
 The  Books  of  Moses  are  so  closely  connected  with 
 revelation,  that  infidelity,  in  all  ages,  has  made 
 them  a  peculiar  object  of  attack.  The  Atheists 
 and  Deists  of  the  last  century  assailed  them  on 
 the  side  of  their  antiquities,  morality,  and  descrip- 
 tions of  the  Divine  attributes.  But  those  assail- 
 ants were  so  completely  convicted  of  ignorance, 
 groundless  assertions,  and  false  logic,  that  they 
 rapidly  shrank,  and  were  heard  of  no  more.  Yet 
 as  infidelity  will  exist,  so  long  as  there  are  those 
 who  feel  a  personal  interest  in  overthrowing  the 
 credit  of  the  great  rebuker  of  personal  vice  ;  or  a 
 public  interest  in  breaking  up  the  obligations 
 which  form  the  great  cement  of  all  society  ;  who 
 "  hate  the  light,  because  their  deeds  are  dark,"  or 
 who  would  extinguish  the  belief  in  a  God,  as  an 
 essential  step  to  the  extinction  of  allegiance  to  a 
 king  ;  the  union  of  Jacobinism  and  Infidelity  on 
 the  Continent  has  been  distinguished  by  a  series 
 of  attempts  to  overthrow  the  credit  of  the  inspired 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  93 
 
 record.  Cosmogony,  a  system  bearing  the  same 
 contemptible  relation  to  the  science  of  the  earth, 
 which  the  search  for  the  philosopher's  stone  bears  to 
 the  science  of  metals ;  has  been  fixed  on  as  the  point 
 from  which  the  attack  is  especially  to  be  made. 
 The  German  Geologists,  a  race  of  men  more  fitted 
 to  collect  facts  than  to  draw  conclusions ;  and  the 
 French  Geologists,  another  race  proverbial  for 
 flying  to  the  conclusion  in  scorn  of  the  tardy 
 wisdom  of  the  facts  ;  have  thus  invented  a  succes- 
 sion of  theories,  all  alike  vague,  baseless,  and 
 perishing  ;  yet  all,  as  they  successively  go  down, 
 equally  grasping  at  a  name  by  hostility  to  the 
 narrative  of  Moses.  The  whole  spirit  of  the 
 foreign  school  has  been  to  substitute  secondary 
 causes  for  Divine,  to  make  mechanism  an  ultimate 
 principle,  to  sneer  down  the  record  which  vindi- 
 cates the  work  of  Deity,  and  finally  to  exile  the 
 Deity  himself  alike  from  the  creation  and  the 
 government  of  his  v/orld. 
 
 The  Mosaic  history  declares  that  the  whole 
 fabric  of  the  globe  was  formed,  and  furnished  with 
 vegetable  and  animal  life,  by  the  immediate  act 
 of  the  Divine  will,  in  six  days.  The  Foreign 
 Geology,  or  Cosmogony,  raised  on  the  supposed 
 facts  of  geological  knowledge,  affirms,  on  the  con- 
 trary, that  this  fabric  was  not  formed  and  fur- 
 nished by  the  immediate  Divine  will,  but  by  the 
 processes  of  nature  ;  and  that,  instead  of  being 
 completed  in    six    days,  it  could  not  have  been 
 
94  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 completed  in  as  many  thousand,  or  perhaps  ten 
 times  as  many  thousand,  years. 
 
 The  rash  policy  of  attempting  to  convert  an 
 adversary  by  conceding  all  that  he  claims,  has 
 induced  some  writers  of  our  country  to  propose 
 various  compromises  on  this  subject.  It  has  thus 
 been  said,  that  the  word  day  may  not  be  conclu- 
 sive ;  that  it  may  have  been  meant  for  a  year,  for 
 six  thousand  years,  for  any  indefinite  duration. 
 But  this  spirit  of  compromise  is,  in  every  form, 
 totally  inadmissible.  The  Sacred  Historian  as 
 plainly  expresses  the  common  day  of  twenty-four 
 hours,  as  it  can  be  expressed  in  language  ;  even 
 as  if  for  the  direct  purpose  of  putting  an  end  to 
 all  ambiguity,  he  defines  it  by  "a  day  of  morning 
 and  evening,"  a  day  like  every  other  day.  The 
 word  is  the  same  which  is  used  for  the  purpose 
 throughout  the  Bible.  The  historian  was  writing 
 to  Jews,  who  knew  of  no  other  day.  If  he  had 
 meant  six  thousand  years,  no  reason  can  be  as- 
 signed why  he  should  not  have  said  six  thousand 
 years.  The  length  of  the  period  could  not  have 
 been  derogatory  to  the  honour  of  the  Deity,  for 
 the  making  of  a  world,  in  whatever  time,  must 
 be  equally  beyond  the  powers  of  man  \ 
 
 '  Mr.  Penn  satisfactorily  disposes  of  the  interpretations  which 
 would  make  the  Mosaic  day  indefinite.  Thus,  it  is  objected — 1st. 
 that  it  sometimes  denotes  a  single  revolution  of  the  earth  round 
 its  axis,  which,  according  to  the  increased  or  decreased  velocity 
 of  the  globe,  might  equally  mean  an  hour  or  a  thousand  years. 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  95 
 
 Another  compromise   is,    that  it  was   not   the 
 duty    of    the    historian    to    give    a    philosophical 
 
 But  the  literal  meaning  of  the  word  is  simply  the  "  time  be- 
 tween two  sunsets"  {Simon:  Lex.  Heb.);  in  strictness,  the  time 
 of  heat  and  light,  DV»  yom,  from  yama,ferbuit. 
 
 2dly,  that  it  sometimes  denotes  a  year,  as  in  Numb.  xiv.  34. 
 "  After  the  number  of  days  in  which  ye  searched  the  land,  even 
 forty  days,  each  day  (yom)  for  a  year  (shanah)  shall  ye  bear 
 your  iniquities,  even  forty  years."  And  (Ezek.  iv.  6.)  "  Thou 
 shalt  bear  the  iniquity  of  the  house  of  Judah  forty  days  ;  I  have 
 appointed  thee  each  day  {yom)  for  a  year"  {shanah). 
 
 But  here  the  distinction  between  the  day  and  the  year  is  per- 
 fectly preserved. 
 
 3dly,  that  it  denotes  a  whole  Chiliad,  (Psalm  xc.  4.)  "  A 
 thousand  years  in  thy  sight  are  but  as  yesterday."  But  the  ob- 
 jects are  still  kept  perfectly  distinct.  If  day  and  year  were  not 
 distinguished  in  the  passage,  the  Psalmist's  object,  which  is  to 
 illustrate  the  independence  of  the  Divine  actions  on  time,  would 
 be  defeated. 
 
 4thly,  it  is  said  that  it  denotes  a  period  of  indefinite  length, 
 as  "  the  day  of  the  Lord."  (Zech.  xiv.  7.)  "  And  it  shall  come 
 to  pass  in  that  day,  that  the  light  shall  not  be  clear  nor  dark." 
 
 But  here  it  denotes  the  presence  of  a  time,  but  not  its  dura- 
 tion. Thus  the  common  phrase  of  the  last  day  simply  inti- 
 mates that  a  time  is  to  come  when  judgment  shaU  commence, 
 without  inferring  any  thing  as  to  the  length  of  the  period. 
 
 5thly,  that  it  denotes  years,  as  in  the  celebrated  passage,  (Dan. 
 xii.  11.)  "And  from  the  time  the  daily  sacrifice  shall  be  taken 
 away,  there  shall  be  days  {yamim)  a  thousand  two  hundred  and 
 ninety."  Mr.  Penn  conceives  that  this  is  answered  by  saying, 
 that  yom  in  the  plural  may  signify  a  year,  because  the  year  is 
 only  a  plurality  of  days,  a  sense  in  which  it  is  familiar  to  the 
 student.  But  the  true  answer  is,  that  in  this  passage  "days" 
 are  literally  meant,  and  that  the  prophecy  alludes  merely  to  the 
 desolation  by  Epiphanes. 
 
 7 
 
96  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 treatise.  This  will  be  fully  admitted — it  cannot 
 be  the  duty  of  any  historian.  But  if  he  states 
 philosophical  facts,  it  is  as  much  his  duty  to  state 
 them  truly  as  any  other  :  they  become  historical 
 facts.  If  Moses  tells  us  that  God  created  in  one 
 day,  what  he  did  not  create  in  one  day,  but  in 
 six  thousand  years ;  he  violates  truth,  and  forfeits 
 his  rank  as  a  historian. 
 
 Another  compromise  is,  that  the  Mosaic  phrase, 
 "  In  the  beginning,"  is  indefinite,  and  gives 
 sufficient  latitude  for  all  that  the  foreign  geology 
 demands.  But  the  limit  is  not  only  defined  by 
 the  declaration  that,  on  the  sixth  day  "  the 
 heavens  and  tlie  earth  were  finished,  and  all  the 
 host  of  them.  And  God  rested  on  the  seventh 
 day  from  all  his  work  which  he  had  made"  (a 
 seventh  portion  of  time,  of  equal  length  with  six 
 preceding,  during  which  he  had  wrought,  being 
 thus  set  apart,  to  signify  the  completion  of  his  work), 
 but  we  have  the  limit  also  fixed  by  a  document 
 with  which  the  pen  of  Moses  could  have  had  no 
 interference.  The  Ten  Commandments  are  the 
 direct  language,  not  of  Moses,  but  of  God.  Yet 
 they  declare  that,  "in  six  days  the  Lord  made 
 heaven  and  earth,  the  sea,  and  all  that  in  them 
 is:"  thus,  with  plain  precision,  circumscribing 
 the  whole  time  of  Creation.  In  every  view  of  the 
 case,  compromise  is  at  an  end. 
 
 The  general  statement  of  modern  geology,  as 
 it  is  advanced  by  Cuvier  and  his  school,  is,  that 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  97 
 
 the  earth  was  primarily  a  chaos ;  that  matter  first 
 existed  merely  in  its  elementary  particles  ;  that 
 its  present  forms  were  produced  by  the  course 
 of  nature :  and,  that  as  this  course  occupies 
 great  periods  in  effecting  such  changes  as  now 
 occur,  the  production  of  those  forms  must  have 
 occupied  many  ages.  Still,  of  those  precipitate 
 theorists  are  we  not  entitled  to  ask,  in  the  first 
 instance,  whether  there  exists  any  historic  ground 
 for  this  chaos,  or  any  ground  bej^ond  some  frag- 
 ments of  ancient  poetrj^,  and  some  oriental  mys- 
 ticisms, palpably  absurd,  and  nearly  unintelligi- 
 ble ?  or  whether  the  chief  known  materials  of  the 
 earth  have  any  reference  to  time  ?  Do  granites, 
 or  coal,  or  metals,  grow  ?  Or,  if  they  do,  must 
 not  their  progress  be  of  such  immeasurable  tardi- 
 ness, as  to  occupy  periods  totally  embarrassing  to 
 the  geologist— not  tens  of  thousands,  but  millions, 
 of  years?  Or,  whether  the  laws  of  bodies  are 
 not  largely  dependent  on  the  forms  of  bodies  ; 
 and,  to  that  extent,  incapable  of  acting  in  a  mere 
 confusion  of  elementary  particles  of  all  kinds  ? 
 Or,  whether,  if  they  acted  at  all  in  a  world  of 
 particles,  thus  equally  comminuted  and  separated, 
 they  were  not  much  more  likely  to  have  conti- 
 nued the  confusion  for  ever?  Or,  whether  there 
 is  any  known  process  in  nature  by  which  the 
 elementary  particles  of  caloric,  for  example,  im- 
 mersed in  a  vast,  turbid  colluvies  of  water,  clay, 
 earths,  metals,  and  the  numberless  other  adverse 
 
 H 
 
98  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 components  of  the  earth,  could  discover  each 
 other,  make  their  way  through  a  mass  as  large 
 as  the  globe,  and  coalesce  into  flame  ?  On  such 
 subjects,  man's  almost  total  ignorance  of  the  prin- 
 ciples of  nature  necessarily  throws  him  back  on  the 
 evidence  of  the  senses  :  he  can  trust  to  nothing 
 else.  We  thus  admit  the  growth  of  the  sand- 
 stones, and  other  depository  substances,  because 
 we  see  it  take  place.  When  we  shall  have 
 similar  evidence  for  the  other  processes,  we  shall 
 believe  that  they  are  effected  by  what  is  termed 
 the  course  of  nature.  Till  then,  wanting  the  only 
 safe  guide  to  natural  knowledge,  we  rightly  with- 
 hold our  conviction.  Yet,  if  authority  were  to 
 decide,  we  have  against  the  chaotic  theory  the 
 names  of  the  first  philosophers  of  the  world. 
 
 "  It  seems  probable  to  me,"  says  Newton, 
 *'  that  God,  in  the  beginning,  formed  matter  in 
 solid,  massy,  hard,  impenetrable,  moveable  par- 
 ticles, of  such  sizes  and  figures,  and  with  such 
 other  properties,  and  in  such  proportions  to  space, 
 as  most  conduced  to  the  end  for  which  he  formed 
 them.  All  material  things  seem  to  have  been 
 composed  of  the  hard  and  solid  particles  above- 
 mentioned,  varioush/ associated  in  thejirst  Creation 
 by  the  councils  of  an  Intellujent  Agent.  For,  it 
 became  Him,  who  created  them,  to  set  them  in 
 order.  And  if  He  did  so,  it  is  miphilosophical  to 
 seek  for  any  other  origin  of  this  world,  or  to 
 pretend  that  it  might  rise  out  of  a  chaos  by  the 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  99 
 
 mere  laws  of  nature.  Though,  being  once  formed j 
 it  may  continue  hij  those  laws  for  many  ages\" 
 
 Bacon's  language  is  equally  distinct.  "  In  the 
 works  of  the  Creation,  we  behold  a  twofold 
 emanation  of  the  Divine  virtue  :  of  which  the 
 one  relates  to  its  power,  the  other  to  its  wisdom. 
 The  former  is  especially  observed  in  the  creating 
 the  material  mass ;  the  latter,  in  the  disposing  the 
 heauty  of  its  form.  This  being  established,  it  is 
 to  be  remarked,  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  historij 
 of  the  Creation  to  invalidate  the  fact  that  the 
 mass  and  substance  of  heaven  and  earth  was 
 created,  confiisa,  undistinguishable,  in  one  moment 
 of  time ;  but  that  six  days  were  assigned  for  dis- 
 posing and  adjusting  it.  We  may  further  observe, 
 that,  in  the  creation  of  matter,  it  is  not  related, 
 "  God  said.  Let  the  heaven  and  the  earth  be," 
 as  is  related  of  the  other  works  which  ensued  ; 
 but,  simply  and  actually,  "  God  created  the 
 heavens  and  the  earth  :"  so  that  the  matter  itself 
 seems  to  have  been,  as  it  were,  a  work  of  hand  ; 
 but  the  introduction  of  its  form  bears  the  style  of 
 a  law  or  decree^.'' 
 
 In  those  declarations  of  the  two  most  profound 
 thinkers  that,  perhaps,  Europe  has  ever  seen,  the 
 most  distinct  negative  is  given  to  the  fantasies  of 
 the   modern  theory.     Newton  refers  more  pecu- 
 
 '  Optics,  L.  3.  ^  De  Augm.  Scien.  L.  1. 
 
 H  2 
 
100  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 liarly  to  the  point  in  question, — the  giving  of 
 suitable  forms  to  the  masses  of  particles ;  Bacon, 
 to  the  general  furnishing  of  the  surface  :  but  both 
 equally  sustain  the  sacred  history. 
 
 A  subsidiary  argument  of  the  foreign  geologist 
 is,  that  the  remnants  of  fishes  retain  the  lowest 
 position  in  the  strata ;  those  of  the  paleotheria 
 and  other  extinct  animals,  the  next ;  and  those 
 of  elephants  and  the  other  living  races,  that 
 nearest  the  surface.  To  make  this  statement  the 
 more  effective,  it  is  insinuated  that  those  deposits 
 preserve  the  same  relative  positions  every  where, 
 and  that,  in  fact,  they  form  something  nearly 
 approaching  to  concentric  coats  round  the  globe. 
 Thus  the  theory  is,  that  there  was  a  fish  world, 
 followed  by  a  paleotherian  world,  followed  again 
 by  a  wild  beast  world  ;  and  all  those  prior  to  the 
 Mosaic  period  of  the  Creation.  This,  however,  is 
 only  a  specimen  of  the  rage  of  foreign  philosopliy 
 for  generalization.  The  fact  is,  that  those  depo- 
 sits are  irregular  in  the  extreme,  are  found  under 
 all  varieties  of  circumstance,  and  the  strata  in 
 which  they  lie  are  so  few,  and  so  widel}^  inter- 
 rupted, that  it  would  be  utterly  absurd  to  consider 
 them  as  forming  any  of  the  important  integuments 
 of  the  globe.  But  are  we  physically  authorised 
 even  to  conjecture  this  enlargement  of  the  globe 
 by  successive  concentric  layers  ?  From  what 
 source  was  the  material  to  come  ?     Are  we  en- 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  101 
 
 titled  to  believe  that  an  additional  ounce  of 
 matter  has  been  given  to  its  mass  since  it  was 
 first  sent  from  the  hands  of  the  Creator  ?  . 
 
 The  next  attempt  to  invalidate  the  history, 
 applies  to  the  Deluge ;  which  the  foreign  geology 
 affirms,  and  justly,  to  be  wholly  inadequate  to 
 account  for  the  phenomena  of  the  earth's  surface, 
 hitherto  attributed  to  its  operation.  But,  on  this 
 point,  the  dispute  is  merely  with  those  who  mis- 
 conceive the  record.  Until  nearly  our  own  day, 
 it  was  too  much  the  custom  to  refer  all  the  de- 
 posits and  disruptions  of  the  strata  to  the  Deluge  ; 
 an  assertion  never  made  by  the  history,  and  for 
 which,  therefore,  it  cannot  be  accountable.  The 
 foreign  geology  states,  and  states  truly,  that  vast 
 beds  of  sea  shells  have  been  found  on  mountain 
 tops,  and  in  other  locations,  in  which  they  could 
 not  have  been  placed  by  a  twelvemonth's  flood  ; 
 and  that  the  remnants  of  fish  and  shells  have  been 
 found  imbedded  in  the  soil,  in  such  perfect  pre- 
 servation, as  to  prove  that  they  had  been  deposited 
 in  the  bed  of  a  tranquil  water  during  a  long  series 
 of  years.  It  further  states,  that  four  general 
 strata  are  distino-uishable  in  the  shell  or  exterior 
 of  the  globe  ;  a  Tertiary,  or  that  stratum  whicli 
 covers  the  surface,  and  which  is  the  subject  of 
 cultivation,  &c.  ;  a  Secondary,  or  Sedimentary ^ 
 under  it,  exhibiting  the  long  action  of  water, 
 and  containing  plants  and  bones  ;  an  Intermediate, 
 OT  Fragmentary,  consisting  of  portions  of  shattered 
 
102  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 granite,  agglutinated  by  time,  and  forming  solid 
 masses,  as  millstone  grit,  and  pudding  stone,  and 
 occasionally,  though  seldom,  exhibiting  organic 
 remains  ;  and  below  this  bed  a  fourth,  the  Pri- 
 mary, or  Crystalline,  the  most  solid  bed  to  which 
 we  liave  penetrated,  and  in  which  no  organic  re- 
 mains are  to  be  found. 
 
 The  Scriptural  geologist,  admitting  for  the 
 moment,  this  system  of  stratification,  irregular 
 and  partial  as  it  is, — for  who  has  penetrated  to 
 the  granite  frame,  or  who  has  shown  the  conti- 
 nuity of  the  three  coats  which  geology  has  thus 
 wrapt  round  it  ? — yet  altogether  denies  that  any 
 fact  of  the  disruption  militates  against  the  record. 
 The  ancient  defenders  and  the  modern  impugners 
 of  that  record,  have  equally  overlooked  a  state- 
 ment fully  adequate  to  account  for  all  the  pheno- 
 mena of  deposit  and  disruption — the  command 
 of  God,  on  the  third  day,  that  a  certain  portion  of 
 the  globe  should  be  hollowed  for  the  sea-bed ; 
 thus  laying  a  great  extent  of  the  earth's  surface 
 under  water,  for  the  whole  period  from  the  Crea- 
 tion to  the  Deluge,  and  that  portion,  at  the  re- 
 covery from  the  Deluge,  constituting  the  present 
 dry   land  \      On    this    subject,    all    the    leading 
 
 '  To  this  it  has  been  objected  that — "  the  ascertained  density 
 of  the  earth  being  greater  than  that  which  would  result  from 
 an  entirely  solid  sphere  of  the  most  compact  known  rock,  ren- 
 ders the  existence  of  any  such  cavity  very  doubtful."  (Cony- 
 hearc,  Geol.  of  England.  J  [But, 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GKOLOGY.  103 
 
 geologists  unconsciously  sustain  the  history'. — 
 *'  This  change  from  the  bed  of  the  sea  to  our 
 present  continents,"  says  De  Luc,  "is  so  fully 
 established,  that  the  chief  object  of  geology  now 
 is  only  to  explain  how  the  sea,  after  having  been 
 elevated  above  our  continents,  has  sunk  under 
 them,  and  left  them  dry^" — "  The  geologists 
 agree  only  in  this,"  says  Cuvier^  "  that  Me  sea 
 has  changed  its  place.'' — D'Aubuisson  tells  us  that 
 "  m  examining  the  mineral  masses  of  the  earth, 
 every  thing  concurs  to  indicate,  that  this  our 
 habitation  has  undergone  great  changes  and  great 
 revolutions  ;  that  the  sea  shells  incrusted  in  the 
 
 But,  passing  over  the  curiously  unphilosopliical  expressions 
 of  density  resulting  from  a  solid  sphere,  the  existence  of  the 
 sea-bed  would  require,  not  a  great  internal  cavity,  but  simply 
 an  excavation  so  trivial  as  one  four  miles  deep  in  a  mass  of 
 8000  in  diameter.  The  lightness  of  the  superficial  crust,  proves 
 that  the  interior  must  contain  vast  masses  of  substance  much 
 heavier  than  twice  the  weight  of  granite ;  and  the  phsenomcna 
 of  volcanoes  and  earthquakes  equally  prove  that  there  are 
 great  unoccupied  spaces  below  the  surface.  The  true  question 
 is,  not  of  the  density,  whether  uniform  or  irregular,  but  of  the 
 gravity  of  the  globe.  The  ballast  of  a  ship  might  show  to  all 
 but  a  determined  geologist,  that  an  open  space  was  procurable 
 without  the  sacrifice  of  the  general  gravity  of  the  body.  A 
 nucleus  of  2000  miles  of  gold  or  platina,  might  leave  the  rest  of 
 the  interior  hollow  ;  but  even  in  those  substances,  have  we 
 arrived  at  the  limit  of  density  ?  Who  shall  say  that  a  mass, 
 the  size  of  a  man's  head  or  hand,  might  not  be  made  to  out- 
 weigh the  globe  ? 
 
 '  Lett.  Geol.  '  Ibid.  "  Discours.  rrclim. 
 
104  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY, 
 
 masses  of  mountains,  present  irrefutable  testimony 
 to  our  eyes,  that  the  sea  anciently  subsisted,  upon 
 our  present  continents,  and  that  animals  inhabited 
 those  shells,  before  the  mineral  masses  in  wliich 
 they  are  imbedded  were  formed  ^"  "Every 
 thing  also  concurs  to  indicate,  that  the  plains  of 
 the  earth,  such  as  those  of  Alsace,  Holland,  Lom- 
 bardy,  &c.  were  not  deposited  by  the  present 
 rivers,  but  in  the  bosom,  or  bed  of  a  tranquil 
 water ;  that  the  present  state  of  the  earth  dates 
 only  from  the  retreat  of  that  water,  and  that  the 
 date  is  not  very  ancient."  Cuvier  adds,  that  "  it 
 cannot  be  carried  back  above  five  or  six  thousand 
 years  ^"  Still  later  authority  states,  "  that  there 
 is  scarcely  any  land  hitherto  examined  in  Europe, 
 Northern  Asia,  or  North  America,  which  has  not 
 been  raised  from  the  bosom  of  the  deep,  since  the 
 origin  of  the  carboniferous  rocks  \"  "  All  circum- 
 stances point  to  one  conclusion,  all  concur,  with 
 wonderful  harmony,  to  establish  the  prevalence, 
 through  the  northern  hemisphere,  of  a  great  ocean, 
 interspersed  with  small  Isles  *." 
 
 The  Sacred  History,  fully  agreeing  with  this 
 statement,  assigns  the  period  during  which  the 
 ocean  bed  occupied  this  portion  of  the  globe. 
 By  the  chronology  of  the  Septuagint  (now  the 
 established  one)  it  M^as  no  less  than  2256  years, 
 
 '  Vol.  i.  8.  '  Discours  Preliminaire. 
 
 '  Lyell,  Geology.  '  Vol.  i.  145.  150. 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  105 
 
 a  period  long  enough  for  the  whole  sedimentary 
 process,  the  tranquil  deposit  of  all  those  marine 
 substances  which  we  find  so  accurately  preserved 
 in  the  soil,  and  to  which  we  know  that  a  similar 
 deposit  is  now  making  in  the  bed  of  the  sea.  And 
 in  this  ordination  of  things  we  have  only  another 
 proof  of  the  perpetual  care  of  Providence.  Though 
 the  original  sea-bed  was  broken  in  by  an  opera- 
 tion, whose  rapidity  implies  its  prodigious  vio- 
 lence, we  now  see,  that  the  disruption  was  regu- 
 lated with  a  direct  view  to  the  subsistence  and 
 enjoyments  of  the  future  inhabitants  of  that  gulf, 
 when  it  should  be  raised  out  of  the  ocean,  and 
 become  dry  land.  The  fracture  of  the  strata  by 
 that  concussion  was  essential  to  the  habitancy  of 
 the  post-diluvian  world  :  for  it  is  directly  owing 
 to  those  mingled  and  irregular  positions  of  the 
 surface,  that  we  enjoy  springs,  an  easy  access  to 
 minerals,  diversities  of  soil,  and  a  multitude  of 
 other  advantages.  Nothing  can  be  clearer  than 
 that  the  deposit  of  the  remnants  of  animal  and 
 vegetable  life  was  perfectly  adapted  for  the  pur- 
 poses to  which  that  sedimentary  and  fertilized  sur- 
 face was  to  be  afterwards  turned  by  man  ;  and  that 
 the  mountain  ranges,  the  valleys,  the  channels  of 
 rivers,  and  the  general  features  of  our  continents, 
 whether  shaped  at  the  original  sinking  of  the 
 ocean  bed,  or  at  its  rising  after  the  Deluge,  were 
 shaped  with  an  express  view  to  their  subsequent 
 uses  to  the  living  world.     We  see  the  mountain 
 
106  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 ranges,  distributing  perpetual  irrigation  to  the 
 regions  at  their  feet ;  the  valleys,  expressly  posited 
 for  the  reception  of  the  soil  worked  down  from 
 the  mountains  ;  the  channels  of  the  rivers,  scooped 
 by  the  evident  desigjiation  of  the  Divine  hand, 
 through  vast  spaces  of  level  country,  and  formed 
 with  a  direct  view  to  the  double  object  of  fer- 
 tilizing the  soil,  and  serving  as  matchless  means 
 of  communication. 
 
 All  the  objections  fall  before  the  consistency 
 and  truth  of  the  Mosaic  history.  But  geology  is 
 libelled  by  those  objections  :  they  are  the  offspring 
 of  another  parent.  Cosmogony,  a  charlatanism, 
 bearing  the  same  reference  to  geology,  which  as- 
 trology bore  to  the  true  science  of  the  stars. 
 
 The  honest  acknowledgment,  if  we  could  extort 
 it  from  foreign  vanity,  is,  that  Geology  is  yet  too 
 young  to  venture  upon  system.  It  wants  vigour, 
 consistency,  and  clearness,  for  the  erection  of  any 
 tolerable  theory.  Instead  of  the  flourishing  pro- 
 mise, that  it  is  to  acquaint  us  with  the  original 
 constitution  of  the  globe ;  the  true  confession  would 
 be,  that,  scarcely  more  than  fifty  years  ^  old,  it  is 
 still — a  meagre  collection  of  trivial  facts,  gathered 
 by  loose  inquiry,  and  arranged  by  imperfect  know- 
 ledge. It  must  for  ages  be  occupied  with  detail. 
 The  millionth  part  of  the  earth's   surface  has  not 
 
 '  Its  birth  is  dated  from  the  appointment  of  Werner  to  the 
 Mineralogical  Chair  at  Freyberg,  in  1775. 
 
 7 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  107 
 
 yet  been  examined.  A  De  Saussure  has  ranged 
 some  of  the  Alpine  districts  ;  a  Humboldt  has 
 gathered  specimens  in  some  of  the  fissures  of  the 
 Andes  ;  a  Pallas  has  mineralized  among  a  few  of 
 the  pinnacles  of  the  Siberian  chain  ;  a  Werner 
 has  visited  the  Saxon  mines  ;  a  Cuvier  has  dug 
 into  the  chalk  pits  of  Paris  ;  a  summer  month's 
 excursion  to  the  Monte  Volca,  or  a  holiday  week's 
 to  Maestricht,  has  furnished  philosophers  of  smaller 
 dimensions  with  fragments  of  shells  and  fish  bones. 
 On  this  scale,  the  surface  even  of  Europe  would 
 not  be  examined  in  five  hundred  years.  But 
 what  has  become,  in  the  meantime,  of  the  great 
 provinces  of  the  globe  ?  Who  has  given  us  the 
 Geology  of  Africa,  Arabia,  Persia,  India,  Tartary, 
 or  the  Northern  and  Southern  Americas  ?  And  is 
 it  this  feeble  miscellany  of  rambling  observation  ; 
 this  infant,  tottering  and  feeling  its  way  along  the 
 dark  chambers  of  a  science,  probably  the  most 
 intricate  of  all,  and  physically  the  most  inacces- 
 sible, that  is  to  be  set  forth  as  the  overthrower  of 
 Scripture  ?  The  deepest  point  of  earth  to  which 
 man  has  penetrated  is  not  a  mile  from  the  surface, 
 and  this  is  to  let  us  into  the  secret  of  a  structure 
 eight  thousand  miles  in  diameter  !  As  well  might 
 anatomy  boast  of  discovering  the  structure  of  an 
 elephant,  through  the  orifice  left  in  its  hide  by 
 plucking  out  a  hair.  No  man  who  deserves  the 
 name    of  philosopher    will    be   insensible  to  the 
 
108  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 measureless  impotence  of  Geology  for  purposes  of 
 this  magnitude  ; — as  no  manly  and  candid  disciple 
 of  Science  will  believe,  that  in  this  unaffected  scorn 
 of  presumptuous  theory  ^,  there  is  any  disregard  of 
 the  honours  of  legitimate  knowledge. 
 
 The  "  Theories  of  the  Earth"  would  form,  as 
 the  mind  might  be  in  the  mood,  one  of  the  most 
 ludicrous,  or  most  melancholy,  chapters  in  the 
 history  of  the  human  understanding.  The  Anti- 
 Mosaical  Geology  but  adds  its  share  to  this  gene- 
 ral memorial  of  human  vanity.  The  "  Successive 
 worlds"  of  Cuvier  will  soon  be  gathered  to  the 
 dust  in  which  so  many  of  its  predecessors  have 
 been  forgotten.  Still  the  process  of  empiricism 
 will  go  on,  and  one  infidel  absurdity  will  follow 
 another,  until  Geology  feels  that  conjecture  is  not 
 science,  and  that  her  business  is  to  collect  facts, 
 and  leave  the  fabrication  of  worlds  to  sciolists  and 
 romancers. 
 
 The  following  list  of  Cosmogonies,  by  names 
 which  were  among  the  most  distinguished  of  their 
 day,  and  were  once  worshipped  with  all  the  ho- 
 nours of  partizanship  ;  only  shows  into  what  follies 
 men  even  of  keen  intellects  and  extensive  know- 
 ledge may  plunge,  under  the  guidance  of  vanity  ; 
 and  how  short  a  date  may  befal  systems  claiming 
 
 ^  The  London  Geological  Society  has,  with  English  good 
 sense,  abjured  the  foreign  habit  of  wasting  time,  and  disappoint- 
 ing the  national  expectation,  by  System  making. 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  109 
 
 to  live  for  ever.  To  begin  with  Burnet — of  those 
 conflicting  builders  of  worlds  one  of  the  most 
 eloquent  and  learned,  and  by  no  means  the  most 
 irrational. 
 
 "  The  earth,"  says  Burnet,  "  was  first  invested 
 with  an  uniform  light  crust,  which  covered  the 
 abyss  of  the  sea,  and  which  being  broken  up  for 
 the  production  of  the  Deluge,  formed  the  moun- 
 tains by  its  fragments." — Theoria  Sacra. 
 
 "The  Deluge,"  says  Woodward,  "was  occa- 
 sioned by  a  momentary  suspension  of  cohesion 
 among  the  particles  of  mineral  bodies.  The  whole 
 mass  of  the  globe  was  dissolved,  and  the  paste  thus 
 formed  became  penetrated  with  shells," — Essay. 
 
 "God  raised  up,"  says  Schenckzer,  "the  moun- 
 tains, for  the  purpose  of  allowing  the  waters  which 
 had  produced  the  Deluge  to  run  off*,  and  selected 
 those  places  in  which  were  the  greatest  quantity 
 of  rocks,  without  w^hich  the  mountains  could  not 
 have  supported  themselves." — Mem.  de  VAcadem. 
 
 "  The  earth  w^as  formed  from  the  atmosphere  of 
 one  comet,  and  deluged  by  the  train  of  another. 
 The  heat  w^hich  it  retained  from  its  origin  was  the 
 cause  of  exciting  its  inhabitants  to  sin,  for  which 
 they  were  all  drowned,  excepting  the  fishes,  which, 
 having  been  fortunately  exempt  from  the  heat, 
 remained  innocent." — Whiston,  New  Theory. 
 
 "  The  earth  is  an  extinguished  sun,  a  vitrified 
 globe,  on  which  the  vapours  falling  down  again, 
 after  it  had  cooled,  formed  seas,  which  afterwards 
 
110  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 deposited    the   limestone  formations." — Leibnitz 
 Prolog  CBa. 
 
 ' '  The  whole  globe  was  covered  with  water  many 
 thousand  years.  The  water  gradually  retired. 
 All  the  land  animals  were  originally  inhabitants 
 of  the  sea.  Man  was  originally  a  fish  ;  and  there 
 are  still  fish  to  be  met  with  in  the  ocean  which 
 are  half  men,  on  their  progress  to  the  perfect 
 human  shape,  and  whose  descendants  will  in  pro- 
 cess of  time  become  men." — Demaillet. 
 
 "  The  earth  was  a  fragment  of  the  sun,  struck 
 off  red  hot  by  the  blow  of  a  comet,  together  with 
 all  the  other  planets,  which  were  also  red  hot 
 fragments.  The  age  of  the  world  then  can  be 
 calculated  from  the  number  of  years  which  it 
 would  take  to  cool  so  large  a  mass  from  a  red 
 heat  down  to  its  present  temperature.  But  it  is 
 of  course  growing  colder  every  year,  and,  as  well 
 as  the  other  planets,  must  finally  be  a  globe  of 
 ice." — Buff  on  Theorie. 
 
 ''AH  things  originally  were  fluid.  The  waters 
 gave  birth  to  microscopic  insects ;  the  insects,  in 
 the  course  of  ages,  magnijied  themselves  into  the 
 larger  animals  ;  the  animals,  in  the  course  of 
 ages,  converted  a  portion  of  the  water  into  calca- 
 reous earth  ;  the  vegetables  converted  another 
 portion  into  clay  !  Those  two  substances,  in  the 
 course  of  ages,  converted  themselves  into  silex  ; 
 and  thus  the  siliceous  mountains  are  the  oldest  of 
 all.     All  the  solid  parts  of  the  earth,  therefore,  owe 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  HI 
 
 their  existence  to  life,  and  without  life,  the  fflobe 
 would  still  be  entirely  liquid." — Lamark.  This, 
 too,  is  the  favourite  mode  among  the  German 
 pJdlosophers !  of  accounting  for  the  formation  and 
 filling  of  the  world. 
 
 "  The  earth  is  a  great  animal  ;  it  is  alive  ;  a 
 vital  fluid  circulates  in  it ;  every  particle  of  it  is 
 alive ;  it  has  instinct  and  volition,  even  to  the 
 most  elementary  molecules,  which  attract  and 
 repel  each  other  according  to  sympathies  and 
 antipathies.  Every  mineral  has  the  power  of  con- 
 verting immense  masses  into  its  own  nature,  as 
 we  convert  food  into  flesh  and  blood.  The  moun- 
 tains are  the  respiratory  organs  of  the  globe  ! 
 The  schists  are  the  organs  of  secretion  ;  the  mi- 
 neral veins  are  abscesses ;  and  the  metals  are  the 
 products  of  disease,  for  which  reason  most  of 
 them  have  a  repulsive  smell." — Patrin.  Diet. 
 d'Histoire  Naturelle. 
 
 "  All  is  done  by  polarization."— (9^e7z. 
 
 "  All  is  done  by  crystallization." — Delametherie. 
 
 Thus  far  cosmogony  assists  us  in  the  origin  of 
 the  globe,  and  thus  far  philosophy  is  satisfied 
 with  its  penetration  into  the  nature  of  things. 
 The  present  condition  of  the  earth's  surface  exer- 
 cises opinions  of  not  less  variety  and  value. 
 
 "  The  mountains  are  gradually  washed  down, 
 and  spread  over  the  bottom  of  the  ocean.  They 
 are  there  heated  under  an  enormous  pressure, 
 and  formed  into  strata,  ready  to  be  raised  to  the 
 
112  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 surface  by  the  same  enormous  beat,  wben  neces- 
 sar3^  " — Hutton. 
 
 "  Tbe  water  was  originally  divided  into  lakes, 
 at  various  elevations,  wbere,  baving  done  tbeir 
 work  of  depositors  of  layers  of  sbells,  they  began 
 tbeir  descent,  as  down  the  steps  of  an  amphithea- 
 tre, and  finally  found  their  way  into  the  bed  of 
 tbe  ocean." — Lmnanori,  Journal  de  Physique. 
 
 "  All  was  tbe  work  of  remarkable  tides.  Tides 
 of  seven  or  eight  hundred  fathoms  deep  having 
 carried  off,  from  time  to  time,  tbe  matter  lying  at 
 tbe  bottom  of  tbe  sea,  threw  it,  in  the  forms  of 
 mountains  and  bills,  upon  the  original  plains  and 
 valleys  of  the  globe." — Dolomieu. 
 
 ''  The  earth  is  nothing  but  a  heap  of  meteoric 
 stones,  which  falling,  from  time  to  time,  in  the 
 course  of  ages,  contrived  to  agglutinate  themselves 
 together,  and  preserve  the  fragments  of  tbe  dif- 
 ferent animals  of  the  different  stars  I  from  which 
 they  were  projected.  And  this  amphj  accounts 
 for  the  fossil  remains  of  unknown  animals." — De 
 Marschall. 
 
 "  Tbe  globe  is  a  vast  hollow,  containing  a  vast 
 magnet,  which  is  moved  from  pole  to  pole  by  the 
 attraction  of  comets,  thus  constantly  shifting  the 
 centre  of  gravity,  and  drawing  up  tlie  waters  of 
 the  surface  after  it.  A  process  which  perfectly 
 accounts  for  deluges,  tides,  and  every  thing." — 
 Bertrand. 
 
 Such  is  the  science  !  But  the  most  curious  feature 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  113 
 
 of  the  whole  is,  that  Cuvier,  after  honestly  con- 
 fessing that,  by  performances  of  this  nature, 
 *'  geology  had  become  ridiculous,"  himself  adds 
 to  the  list,  by  a  cosmogony  founded  on  the  de- 
 tection of  the  bones  of  lizards  in  the  chalk-pits  of 
 Paris,  which,  as  usual,  "  joer/ec^/z/ establishes  a 
 succession  of  deluges,"  &c.,  and,  this  step  being 
 gained,  as  perfectly  accounts,  through  them,  for 
 all  deposits,  fractures,  stratifications,  &c.  &c. 
 
 The  ignorance  of  religion  frequently  exhibited 
 by  men  of  science  has  long  been  a  subject  of 
 astonishment ;  and  the  reason  has  been  sought  in 
 some  natural  disability  of  the  scientific  mind  for 
 moral  evidence.  But  this  palliative  is  infirm. 
 The  truer  reason  is,  that  the  ordinary  race  of 
 men  of  science  take  their  full  share  in  the 
 thoughtlessness,  vice,  and  vanity  of  mankind. 
 If  the  majority  of  them  are  Deists,  it  is  simply 
 because  the  majority  of  mankind  are  content  with 
 the  mere  acknowledgment  of  a  Something  above, 
 which  regulates  the  seasons,  and  keeps  the  world 
 together^     Christianity  stands  before  the  man  of 
 
 '  With  what  a  noble  combination  of  philosophy  and  religion, 
 Newton  pronounces  against  thus  degrading  the  idea  of  the 
 Godhead : — "  Haec  omnia,"  &c.  "  All  those  works,  formed 
 by  one  Wisdom,  belong  to  the  dominion  of  One.  He  rules 
 all, — not  as  the  soul  of  the  world,  but  as  the  Lord  of  all ;  and, 
 from  that  dominion.  He  is  named  the  Lord  God  Almighty. 
 For  God  is  a  relative  word,  and  refers  to  servants;  and  the 
 divinity  and  sovereignty  of  God  are  not  over  his  own  body,  as 
 
 I 
 
114  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 science,  as  it  does  before  all  other  men,  offering  a 
 testimony  absolutely  irresistible  by  the  unpreju- 
 diced understanding.  But  the  testimony  is  thrown 
 away  on  eyes  that  will  not  see,  and  ears  that  will 
 not  hear ;  on  minds  too  indolent,  or  too  busy  to 
 inquire  ;  or  too  vicious  or  too  vain  to  comprehend. 
 
 The  point  of  importance  is,  that  the  homage 
 paid  to  the  philosopher  should  not  impair  the 
 higher  homage  due  to  Religion ;  that  the  world 
 should  not  be  prejudiced  against  Revelation,  by 
 folly  covered  with  the  cloak  of  wisdom. 
 
 The  fact  is  unquestionable,  that  even  distin- 
 guished accomplishment  in  science  is  consistent 
 with  marked  deficiency  in  some  of  the  noblest 
 powers  of  the  mind '.  The  French  philosophers 
 of  the  last  century  were  at  the  head  of  European 
 science  ;  but,  from  the  moment  when  they  left 
 their  diagrams,  they  were  helpless  in  the  hand 
 of  faction  :  they  were  moles,  bewildered  in  the 
 sunshine  ;  reversing  the  old  process,  they  were 
 first  deceivers,  and  then  dupes  ;  transferring  them- 
 
 those  think  to  whom  He  is  but  the  soul  of  the  world,  but  over 
 his  servants." — Schol.  Gener.  Princep.  Nutti.  L.  3. 
 
 '  Napoleon,  in  the  policy  of  paying  court  to  science,  ap- 
 pointed the  celebrated  La  Place  one  of  his  Ministers.  But  he 
 soon  found  the  total  incapacity  of  this  head  of  French  science 
 for  public  business  ;  and  was  forced  to  dismiss  him.  "  He 
 brought  nothing  with  him  into  the  Council,"  said  Napoleon, 
 afterwards  ;  '*  he  was  incapable  of  a  large  view ;  his  brain  was 
 like  his  books,  all  infinimens  petits." 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  1  15 
 
 selves  to  statesmanship,  they  vitiated  a  reform 
 into  a  revolution  ;  in  which  the  only  remaining 
 question  is,  whether  the  crimes  exceeded  the 
 blunders,  or  the  blunders  the  crimes  ?  They 
 hurried  on  from  folly  to  folly,  until  they  were 
 rebuked  by  the  scaffold,  and  perished,  leaving 
 to  the  world  the  moral  of  scientific  vanity. 
 
 Yet,  even  within  the  province  of  the  pure 
 sciences  ;  that  guarded  realm,  where  the  severity 
 of  truth  is  worshipped  apart  from  the  world ;  we 
 meet  with  constant  proof  of  the  helplessness  of 
 knowledge  to  steady  the  intellectual  step,  and  the 
 hopelessness  of  the  highest  speculative  powers  to 
 act  as  substitutes  for  the  manly  logic  of  the  mind. 
 The  history  of  the  most  sublime  of  them  all,  Astro- 
 nomy, is  humiliated  by  reveries  earth-born  in  every 
 feature.  Every  advance  of  truth  had  its  following 
 shadow.  If  the  extravagances  of  the  Greek  sys- 
 tems, the  Alexandrian  epicycles,  the  Tychonic 
 revolutions,  or  the  whirlpools  of  Descartes,  are  to 
 be  looked  on  only  as  the  natural  results  of  scienti- 
 fic childhood  ;  with  what  eyes  are  we  to  look  on 
 a  man  like  Kepler,  drawing  horoscopes !  or  pro- 
 nouncing that  the  planets  were  but  celestial 
 flowers  and  insects,  sporting  through  the  heavens 
 for  their  season,  and  then  doomed  to  perish,  like 
 their  kindred  buds  and  butterflies  ?  Or  on  so  calm 
 and  indefatigable  an  observer  as  the  late  Herschel, 
 imagining  the  fabrication  of  comets  and  stars  in 
 congestions  of  the    nebular   matter,   and    seeing 
 
 I  2 
 
116  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 new  tadpole  worlds  growing  in  knots  and  strings  ? 
 Or  on  the  theorists  of  the  projection  of  the  aste- 
 roides  from  an  exploding  planet,  shooting  its  frag- 
 ments round  the  sun,  not  rugged  and  shapeless,  but 
 smooth  as  cannon-balls  from  a  mould  ?  Or  on  the 
 calculators  of  the  heat  and  cold  of  the  planets ; 
 who  turned  Mercury  into  a  ball  of  fire,  and 
 Saturn  into  a  ball  of  ice  ;  without  regarding  how 
 slight  an  alteration  in  the  atmosphere  might 
 equalize  all  temperatures  ?  Or  on  the  still  more 
 determined  calculators  of  the  heat  and  impulse  of 
 comets ;  while  the  strong  probability  is,  that  the 
 comet,  in  general,  is  no  more  capable  of  heat 
 than  a  handful  of  dust,  nor  more  solid  than  a 
 cloud  ? 
 
 From  examples  of  this  order  in  their  exclusive 
 department,  we  are  to  learn  how  little  deference 
 is  due  to  scientific  authorities  in  matters  beyond 
 their  survey.  The  pure  sciences  must  be  of  in- 
 destructible value,  from  their  uses  to  man  in  the 
 natural  world  ;  but  they  must  not  be  suffered  to 
 act  as  repellents  from  the  infinitely  more  useful 
 and  elevated  studies  of  the  spirit  of  man — the 
 operations  of  the  moral  world ;  and  the  truths, 
 laws,  and  hopes  of  the  world  beyond  the  grave  ; 
 all  comprehended  in  the  great  science  of  Christ- 
 ianity. Yet,  it  is  only  in  the  narrower  minds, 
 after  all,  that  science  is  an  infidel.  "  Heec  de 
 Deo,"  says  the  prince  of  philosophers,  at  the  close 
 of  his  sublime  description  of  the   Deity  :    "  Thus 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  117 
 
 far  concerning  God  ;  to  discourse  of  whom,  from 
 the  appearances  of  things,  is  the  province  of  na- 
 tural philosophy.''' 
 
 But,  if  even  the  fixed  sciences  are  open  to  such 
 weaknesses ;  by  what  right  shall  geology  claim  a 
 place  in  competition  with  Scripture  1  What  re- 
 spect can  be  paid  to  the  crudities  of  a  science 
 in  its  cradle,  to  investigation  that  has  not  exa- 
 mined the  millionth  part  of  its  subject,  or  to  con- 
 jecture that  lives  only  through  the  day?  Caution 
 on  such  topics,  too,  is  much  more  important  now 
 than  in  other  times.  Shallow  knowledge  is  the 
 temptation  of  the  hour;  and  the  continent  swarms 
 with  the  plague  of  those  "  minute  philosophers," 
 who  pollute  where  they  cannot  sting,  and  think 
 nothing  worthy  of  their  powers  below  the  fabrica- 
 tion of  governments  and  worlds. 
 
 But  the  geologist  who  calls  himself  a  Christian 
 should  also  recollect  the  express  testimonial  given 
 to  the  Mosaic  narrative,  in  the  language  of  the 
 Great  Apostle  : — "  Through  faith  we  understand 
 that  the  worlds  were  formed  by  the  word  of  God, 
 so  that  the  things  which  are  seen  were  not  made 
 of  things  that  do  appear  ' ;"  a  direct  reference 
 to  a  record  of  the  Creation,  as  the  subject  of  belief 
 on  Divine  authority.  But  of  the  Creation  there 
 was  only  one  great  record  in  the  hands  of  man — 
 the  Mosaic  history  ;  and  to  this  St.  Paul  refers,  as 
 
 '  Hebrews  xi.  2. 
 
118  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 established  by  inspiration,  and,  as  such,  claiming 
 the  same  degree  of  perfect  reliance  with  the  pro- 
 mises and  providence  of  Heaven  ^ 
 
 Professor  Buckland's  "  Reliquiae  Diluvianae" 
 is  employed  to  establish  two  points: — "That 
 there  has  been  a  recent  and  general  inundation 
 of  the  globe  ;"  and — "  That  the  animals  whose 
 remains  are  found  in  the  wreck  of  that  inunda- 
 tion were  natives  of  high  northern  latitudes,  and 
 not  drifted  to  their  present  place  from  equatorial 
 regions  by  the  waters  which  caused  their  destruc- 
 tion." On  the  first,  the  Mosaic  history  agrees 
 with  the  professor,  though  it  may  perfectly  dispense 
 with  all  the  aid  administered  by  the  discovery  of 
 the  cavern  at  Kirkdale.  On  the  second,  we  may 
 leave  him  to  reconcile  his  conclusion  with  the 
 whole  array  of  his  geological  masters.  But  the 
 more  important  object  is,  to  exhibit,  in  the  in- 
 
 *  Professor  Kidd  remarks  on  the  subject : — *'  From  the  end- 
 less discordance  of  philosophers  on  this  point ;  from  the  mani- 
 fest inadequacy  of  the  data  of  which  we  arc  at  present  in  pos- 
 session ;  and  from  the  physical  impossibilities  which  must  for 
 ever  be  a  bar  to  any  thing  more  than  a  superficial  knowledge  of 
 the  Earth's  structure ; — it  is  preposterous  to  suppose  that  that 
 high  degree  of  moral  evidence  on  which  the  credibility  of  Scrip- 
 ture rests,  can,  with  any  justice,  be  weakened." 
 
 The  whole  question  will  be  found,  discussed  with  equal  tem- 
 per, learning,  and  sagacity,  in  Mr.  Penn's  "  Comparative  Esti- 
 mate of  the  Mineral  and  Mosaical  Geologies." 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  119 
 
 Stance  of  an  intelligent  scholar  and  diligent  in- 
 quirer into  nature,  the  extraordinary  hold  which 
 the  passion  for  hypothesis  lays  upon  the  modern 
 geologist.  The  simple  facts  are — that  in  a  cavern 
 at  Kirkdale,  in  Yorkshire,  the  bones  of  twenty- 
 three  species  of  animals,  from  the  elephant  and 
 rhinoceros  to  the  rat  and  snipe,  have  been  found, 
 much  crushed  and  comminuted.  On  this  founda- 
 tion is  built  the  rapid  consequence,  that  those 
 animals  must  have  been  natives  of  Yorkshire  for  a 
 series  of  years  or  ages ;  followed  by  the  building 
 of  another,  equally  rapid,  that  the  northern  hemis- 
 phere could  not  have  been  the  bed  of  the  ocean  at 
 the  time  of  the  deluge.  The  process  by  which  those 
 objects  are  attained,  is  among  the  most  resolute 
 specimens  of  conjectural  philosophy. 
 
 A  quantity  of  crushed  bones  are  found, — 
 Therefore,  they  must  have  been  crushed  by  the 
 teeth  of  animals. 
 
 Hyaenas'  bones  are  found  among  them,  and 
 hyaenas  are  known  feeders  on  bones, — There- 
 fore, they  must  have  been  crushed  by  the  teeth  of 
 hycenas. 
 
 But  the  entrance  of  the  cavern  is  too  small  to 
 have  suffered  it  to  be  the  haunt  of  the  larger 
 animals, — Therefore,  the  hyaenas  must  have  drag- 
 ged in  their  skeletons,  to  eat  them  at  their  ease. 
 
 But  hyaenas  could  not  be  supposed  to  drag 
 them  from  any  great  distance, — Therefore,  they 
 must  have  found  them  on  the  spot ;  and,  there- 
 
 7 
 
120  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 fore,  Yorkshire  was  a  great  aiite-diluvian  forest, 
 filled  with  elephants,  tigers,  hippopotami,  &c. 
 &c. 
 
 But  the  bones  of  the  hyeenas  are  as  much  bro- 
 ken as  any  of  the  rest. — Therefore  the  old  hyaenas 
 must  have  died,  and  left  their  bones  to  be  gnawed 
 by  the  young. 
 
 But  there  are  as  many  broken  bones  of  the 
 young  hysenas  as  of  the  old. — This  is  no  diffi- 
 culty, for  '■^perhaps  hyaenas  occasionally  eat  each 
 other."  For,  a  hysena  in  a  menagerie  has  been 
 known  to  "  nibble  away  its  own  toes  ;"  one  has 
 gone  further  still,  and  devoured  a  piece  of  its  own 
 fore  leg  !  and  monkeys  in  confinement  have  been 
 sometimes  detected  eating  oflP  their  own  tails  ! — • 
 Therefore  the  ante-diluvian  hyaenas  (though  neither 
 caged  nor  chained,  and  with  ever}^  bone  of  every 
 beast  of  the  forest  for  their  food)  must  have  eaten 
 each  other,  and  that,  not  toe  or  tail,  but  wholesale, 
 to  the  amount  of  hundreds  or  thousands. 
 
 But  many  of  the  larger  bones,  and  the  solid 
 extremities  of  the  bones,  have  not  been  crushed. 
 — This  is  no  difficulty.  They  were  too  large  for 
 the  teeth  of  the  hyaenas. 
 
 But  a  vast  number  of  bones  of  the  water  rat, 
 snipe,  and  other  small  animals,  remain. — This  too 
 is  no  difficulty ;  and  for  the  opposite  reason  :  they 
 were  too  small:  the  professor  telling  us,  that,  "  in 
 masticating  the  bones  of  those  small  animals  with 
 their  coarse  conical  teeth,   many  bones  and  frag- 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  121 
 
 ments  of  bones  would  be  pressed  outwards  through 
 their  lips,  and  fall  neglected  to  the  ground."  Thus, 
 whether  the  mesh  be  large  or  little,  it  equally 
 answers  the  escape  of  the  hypothesis. 
 
 But  no  complete  skeleton  of  a  hysena,  nor  even 
 a  skull  of  one,  has  been  found  in  the  cavern. — 
 Still  the  naturalist  must  not  be  left  under  the 
 uneasy  impression,  that  the  last  hyaena  actu- 
 ally devoured  himself.  No.  When  he  found 
 the  Deluge  coming,  "  he  rushed  out  of  the  cavern, 
 and  made  his  way  to  the  adjoining  hills  :"  which, 
 whether  we  take  it  as  a  historical  or  a  geological 
 fact,  we  must  receive  as  a  perfectly  elucidatory 
 account  of  a  circumstance,  which  might  have 
 painfully  involved  the  solidity  of  the  whole 
 system. 
 
 Still,  the  Professor,  though  he  must  have  already 
 satisfied  his  readers,  loves  to  accumulate  proofs ; 
 and  acknowledging  that  "  the  bones  of  the  hyaenas 
 are  as  much  broken  as  those  of  the  animals  which 
 formed  their-  prey ;  and  hence  2ve  must  infer,  that 
 the  carcases  of  the  hycenas  themselves  were  eaten  up 
 hy  their  survivors ;"  (thus  proving  his  point  by  a 
 non  sequitur  from  premises  taken  for  granted), 
 he  proceeds  to  evidence. — "  Whether  it  be  the 
 habit  of  modern  hyaenas  to  devour  those  of  their 
 own  species  which  die  in  the  course  of  nature  ;  or, 
 under  the  pressure  of  hunger,  to  kill  and  eat  the 
 weaker  of  them,  is  a  point  on  which  it  is  not  easy 
 to  obtain  positive  evidence.''    This  is  the  first  secure 
 
122  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 Step. — ''  Mr.  Brown,  however,  asserts,  in  his  Jour- 
 ney to  Darfur,  that  it  is  related  of  the  hyaena,  that 
 upon  one  of  their  number  being  wounded,  his 
 companions  instantly  tear  him  to  pieces,  and 
 devour  him."  (The  case  of  wounds  from  hunters, 
 and  hunger,  at  least,  being  equally  inapplicable 
 in  the  ante-diluvian  cavern.)  This  is  the  second 
 secure  3tep.  "  It  seems,  therefore,''  says  the 
 Professor,  "  in  the  highest  degree  probable,  that 
 the  mangled  relics  of  hundreds  of  hyeenas,  which 
 lie  indiscriminately  scattered  and  equally  broken 
 with  the  bones  of  other  animals  in  the  cave  of 
 Kirkdale,  were  reduced  to  this  state  by  the  sur- 
 viving individuals  of  their  own  species."  Thus, 
 out  of  the  "  difficulty  of  obtaining  positive  evi- 
 dence" (in  other  words,  any  thing  meriting  the 
 name  of  evidence)  and  the — "  it  is  related''  of 
 Mr.  Brown  (in  other  words,  a  rumour  in  a  tra- 
 veller's ears)  is  constructed  the  highest  degree 
 of  probability !  which,  for  all  practical  purposes, 
 is  certainty. 
 
 But  fresh  authority  is  given.  "  The  present 
 Cape  hyaena,"  says  a  letter  from  a  Mr.  Under- 
 wood in  Paris ;  "  about  ten  years  ago,  in  the 
 month  of  September,  began  to  nibble  and  suck 
 his  hinder  paws,  which  nearly  destroyed  them  in 
 two  months ;  at  which  time  he  left  off.  At  the 
 same  period  of  the  following  year  he  began  again, 
 and  continued  for  about  the  same  space  of  time, 
 by  which  the  metatarsal  and  tarsal  bones  of  both 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  123 
 
 feet,  and  about  half  the  tibia  and  fibula  of  the 
 rio-ht  leg  were  eaten  ;  since  that  time  he  has  not 
 attacked  any  other  part  of  his  body.  He  now 
 walks  on  three  legs,  but  with  great  difficulty." — 
 "  The  fact  seems  to  be,"  adds  the  Professor,  gravely, 
 "  that  many  animals,  particularly  the  monkey  tribe, 
 when  in  confinement,"  are  subject  to  diseases 
 which  induce  them  to  nibble  away  their  extremi- 
 ties. And  thus,  it  is  from  the  animal  in  a  dis- 
 eased state,  and  in  the  inaction  and  misery  of  a 
 menagerie,  that  we  are  to  reason  to  the  habits  of 
 the  creature,  in  its  forest,  and  in  the  enjoyment 
 of  its  native  air  and  food.  We  might  as  well 
 reason  from  the  flanneled  foot  and  crutch  of  a 
 city  epicure,  to  the  springy  step  of  a  mountaineer. 
 Hysenas  in  a  tropical  forest  have  other  occupa- 
 tions than  biting  off  their  own  metatarsal  bones ; 
 whatever  they  may  do  in  the  agony  of  pain 
 brought  on  by  being  shut  up  for  years  in  those 
 places,  where  cruelty  and  curiosity  go  so  much 
 hand  in  hand,  and  where  wretched  animals,  which 
 we  have  no  more  right  to  torture  than  we  have  to 
 torture  each  other — the  free  creatures  of  the  desert, 
 to  which  air  and  motion  are  existence  and  delig-ht 
 — are  kept  chained  and  cramped  for  the  benefit 
 of  holiday  gazers  (for  the  true  naturalist  disdains 
 this  royal  road  to  science),  and  waste  away,  till 
 they  die. 
 
 But  what  can  be  more  trifling,  rash,  and  un- 
 philosophical,   than  any  science  which  attempts 
 
124  THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY. 
 
 to  establish  itself  on  such  grounds.  That  the 
 Professor  would  be  among  the  first  to  denounce 
 his  own  induction  on  any  other  subject,  it  is  due 
 to  his  education  to  believe.  The  snare  is  in  his 
 Science.  The  necessity  of  being  hypothetical  is 
 forced  upon  the  geologist,  by  a  pursuit  which 
 supplies  nothing  but  hypothesis.  He  builds  his 
 house  on  the  sand,  because  there  is  nothing  to 
 build  on  but  the  sand. 
 
 Yet  even  among  hypotheses  there  is  a  choice. 
 A  much  more  probable  mode  of  accounting  for 
 the  deposit  of  the  bones  at  Kirkdale  would  be, 
 that  they  were  the  reliques  of  the  animals  of  some 
 great  southern  tract,  thrown  back  by  the  reflux 
 of  the  ocean  to  the  north ;  as  we  see  the  plants 
 and  seeds  of  the  south  and  west  now  carried  to 
 the  east,  from  which  the  gulf  stream  originally 
 flows.  But  the  Professor's  hypothesis,  by  con- 
 cluding that  the  northern  regions  of  Europe  have 
 been  dry  land,  antecedently  to  the  Deluge;  ex- 
 poses itself,  first  to  the  formidable  objection,  that 
 the  infinite  quantity  of  marine  deposits  prove  the 
 presence  of  the  ocean  (unless  he  throws  off"  the 
 Mosaic  declarations  altogether) ;  and  secondly, 
 that  to  conceive  the  climate  of  Yorkshire  tropical, 
 we  must  conceive  an  extraordinary  change  in  the 
 condition  of  the  entire  globe.  This  he  admits  : 
 "  though,  whether  by  a  change  in  the  inclination 
 of  the  earth's  axis,  or  the  near  approach  of  a 
 comet,   or   any    other   cause    or    combination    of 
 
THE    MOSAIC    GEOLOGY.  125 
 
 causes  purely  astronomical,"  he  does  not  decide. 
 This  difficile  per  difficilius,  is  the  customary  reason- 
 ing of  the  Science.  But  a  change  in  the  obliquity 
 of  the  ecliptic  is  pronounced,  by  the  unanimous 
 voice  of  Mathesis,  to  be  altogether  a  chimera. 
 Even  the  Professor's  astronomy  is  not  quite  sound, 
 in  distinguishing  between  "  the  change  of  the 
 inclination,"  and  the  effect  of  "  the  near  ap- 
 proach of  a  comet,"  for  the  only  presumed  ope- 
 ration of  the  latter  is  to  have  produced  the  former, 
 and  thus  the  Deluge.  And  this  is  Philosophy 
 and  Geology ! 
 
CHAPTER   VI. 
 
 PARADISE. 
 
 The  history  of  Man,  in  the  primeval  state,  is 
 brief,  simple,  and  natural ;  and  has,  therefore, 
 been  the  subject  of  long  cavil  and  various  conjec- 
 ture. Mysticism  would  have  better  suited  the 
 capricious  imagination  of  his  offspring.  By  some, 
 the  whole  narrative  is  taken  as  a  mere  figurative 
 representation'.  By  another  class,  as  a  philoso- 
 phical enigma,  concealing  the  origin  of  the  mate- 
 rial workP.  By  a  third,  as  an  oriental  allegory, 
 picturing  the  influence  of  good  and  ill  on  the 
 heart ;  the  tree  of  life,  piety ;  the  tree  of  know- 
 ledge, prudence ;  the  serpent,  the  allurements  of 
 the  passions  ^  It  would  be  only  a  waste  of  time  to 
 dwell  on  those  conceptions.  One  answer  compre- 
 hends the  whole  : — the  evidence  that  the  history, 
 taken  in  its  most  literal  meaning,  is  the  narrative 
 
 ^  Dathe,  Ver.  Lat.  Vet.  Test.     F.  Amman.  Summa  Theolog. 
 ^  Bauer.  Hermen.  Sacr.  ;  with  the  crowd  of  Germans,  Eich- 
 horn,  Lessing,  Paulus,  &c. 
 ,  ^  Philo  Jud.  do  Mundi  Opif.  ;  Middleton,  &c. 
 
PARADISE.  127 
 
 of  a  transaction  suitable  to  the  providence  of  God 
 and  to  the  nature  of  man. 
 
 A  large  portion  of  the  Pentateuch  is  of  an  order 
 incapable  of  being  disputed  ^ ;  consisting  of  state- 
 ments authenticated  by  the  whole  subsequent  exist- 
 ence of  the  Jewish  nation ;  the  history  of  their  origin, 
 progress,  trials,  conquests,  and  laws.  The  charac- 
 ter of  Moses  himself  contains  the  clearest  internal 
 evidence  that  his  narrative  is  totally  untouched 
 by  fiction  ;  no  man  can  more  candidly  relate  his 
 own  errors,  or  those  of  his  countrymen.  But  his 
 selection  as  the  express  instrument  of  Providence  ; 
 and  his  high  offices,  as  the  direct  transmitter  of  the 
 Divine  will,  as  the  governor  of  the  chosen  people, 
 and  as  the  human  giver  of  the  national  law,  imply 
 the  virtue  that  must  have  precluded  fiction,  the 
 
 '  To  establish  the  clahii  of  inspiration  for  the  Pentateuch,  it 
 is  by  no  means  necessary  to  prove  that  it  was  written  without 
 the  aid  of  earlier  records.  The  inspiration  might  be  fully  shown 
 in  the  peculiar  use  of  those  records.  Thus,  there  can  be  no 
 doubt  that  some  of  the  Evangelists  had  seen  the  Gospel  history 
 in  writing,  before  transmitting  their  own  statements ;  yet  no 
 Christian  can  doubt  their  inspiration.  The  sincere  historian  of 
 the  Pentateuch  seems  even  to  state  that  he  made  use  of  such 
 records.  His  fifth  chapter  gives  "  The  hook  of  the  generations 
 of  Adam,"  the  common  scriptural  expression  for  an  acknow- 
 ledged authority ;  and  thence  proceeds  to  a  detail  of  names  and 
 years,  which  bears  upon  it  the  stamp  of  an  ancient  and  authentic 
 register.  The  Germans,  however,  (Eichhorn,  Enleitung.  Bauer, 
 Hermen :)  as  usual,  attempt  to  refine  upon  this,  and  in  their 
 clumsy  dexterity  affect  to  discover  traces  of  various  styles,  in- 
 terpolations, &c. 
 
128  PARADISE. 
 
 sagacity  that  was  not  to  be  deceived  by  fiction,  and 
 the  dignity  of  mind  that  would  have  disdained  to 
 borrow  fiction  from  the  fantasies  of  the  idolater. 
 
 To  the  allegorists,  the  answer  has  been  justly 
 given,  that  the  whole  must  be  allegorical,  or  the 
 whole  literal.  ' '  If  the  formation  of  the  woman 
 from  the  man  be  allegorical,  the  woman  is  an  alle- 
 gorical woman.  The  man  must  also  be  an  alle- 
 gorical man  ;  for  of  such  a  man  only  the  allegori- 
 cal woman  will  be  a  fit  companion.  If  the  man 
 is  allegorical,  his  paradise  will  be  an  allegorical 
 garden.  Thus  we  may  ascend  to  the  beginning  of 
 creation,  and  have  allegorical  heavens,  and  an 
 allegorical  earth ;  and  in  this  absurdity  the  scheme 
 of  allegorizing  ends  \"  Some  of  our  later  Divines^, 
 of  whose  motives  it  is  impossible  to  speak  but  with 
 respect,  are  inclined  to  look  upon  the  narrative  as 
 altogether  a  sacred  7nystery,  and  therefore  to  be  left 
 among  the  untouched  secrets  of  Providence.  Yet  it 
 may  be  shown,  that  elevated  as  are  the  persons  and 
 objects,  the  transaction  itself  is  not  mysterious, 
 that  its  progress  is  perfectly  consistent  with  tlie 
 
 '  Horsley,  Biblical  Crit.  vol.  i. 
 
 *  Bishop  Horsley;  Dr.  Shuttleworth,  "Consistency  of  Re- 
 velation." 
 
 The  authorities  on  the  reality  of  the  Fall  occupy  a  large  space 
 in  the  works  of  the  Fathers.  See  the  Collections  of  Suicer,  in 
 his  Thesaurus.  It  is  additionally  referred  to  by  Cyril,  Thcophi- 
 lus,  Eusebius,  Ircna^us,  Tertullian,  Lactantius,  &c. — (Note 
 from  Holden.J 
 
PARADISE.  129 
 
 common  rules  of  the  Divine  government,  is  equally 
 consistent  with  the  declared  plan  of  revelation, 
 and  is  further  confirmed  by  signal  correspond- 
 ences with  some  of  the  most  remarkable  events  of 
 history. 
 
 The  outline  of  Creation  having  been  given  in 
 the  first  and  second  chapters  of  Genesis,  the  third 
 proceeds  to  detail  the  formation  and  original  state 
 of  the  human  race.  Adam,  formed  of  the  clay, 
 animated  by  the  breath  of  Deity,  and  thus  become 
 a  "living  soul,"  was  immediately  transferred  to 
 the  garden  in  Eden.  While  man  was  made  to 
 live  by  food,  and  yet  was  not  permitted  to  use  the 
 food  supplied  by  animals,  no  location  could  have 
 been  more  appropriate  for  enjoyment,  health,  and 
 the  exercise  of  his  faculties. 
 
 But  Eden  contained  a  provision  for  a  higher 
 purpose.  Man  had  a  moral  nature  ;  he  was  a 
 subject  of  Heaven.  It  was  essential  that  he 
 should  be  made  sensible  of  the  duty  of  constant 
 obedience.  Perhaps  a  more  perplexing  question 
 could  not  be  proposed  to  human  thought,  than 
 the  means  by  which  a  sense  of  the  Divine  autho- 
 rity might  be  kept  constantly,  yet  naturally,  be- 
 fore the  mind.  If  a  strong  display  of  Divine 
 power  had  been  made  to  the  immature  mind  of 
 man,  it  might  have  utterly  extinguished  freewill 
 in  terror ;  if  a  strong  display  of  future  reward,  it 
 might  have  led  the  mind  too  much  beyond  the 
 world  in  which  its  duties  lay  ;  besides  establishing, 
 
 K 
 
130  PARADISE. 
 
 as  in  the  case  of  terror,  a  motive  inconsistent  with 
 freedom,  and  a  motive  too  not  of  the  highest 
 order. 
 
 Instead  of  either,  the  means  actually  appointed 
 were  simple,  offering  no  peculiar  stimulant  to  his 
 propensities,  bodily  or  mental,  and  yet  adequate 
 to  the  purpose  of  constantly  reminding  him  of  his 
 moral  obligation.  "  Of  every  tree  of  the  garden 
 thou  mayest  freely  eat,  but  of  the  tree  of  the 
 knowledge  of  good  and  evil  thou  shalt  not  eat ; 
 for  in  the  day  that  thou  eatest  thereof  thou  shalt 
 surely  die'." 
 
 ^  Thou  shalt  surely  die. — This  sentence  was  not  executed,  be- 
 cause the  sentence  itself  was  changed  by  the  new  covenant ; 
 otherwise  we  have  no  reason  to  doubt  that  Adam,  instead  of 
 having  his  life  prolonged  to  nearly  a  thousand  years,  would  have 
 instantly  ceased  to  he.  And  his  promise  of  posterity  would 
 have  been  extinguished  with  himself,  for  it  was  not  till  after  the 
 expulsion  from  Paradise  that  his  first  offspring  was  bom,  (which 
 puts  an  end  to  the  usual  queries,  what  would  have  been  the 
 state  of  the  human  race  if  Christ  had  not  died  1  They  would  not 
 have  existed.)  Annihilation  must  have  been  the  natural  punish- 
 ment of  Adam,  for  that  is  the  natural  impression  of  death,  un- 
 less where  a  Divine  declaration  was  made  to  the  contrary.  If  the 
 declaration  of  a  future  state  were  not  required,  why  should  it  be 
 so  largely  made  to  the  Christian  1  But  it  may  be  objected,  that 
 this  puts  the  Christian  in  a  worse  condition  than  the  first  sinner. 
 Undoubtedly  it  does,  if  he  falls  ;  for  there  can  be  no  question  that 
 the  future  suffering  of  the  soul  is  worse  than  annihilation,  a 
 punishment  which  exists  only  in  prospect,  and  whose  suffering 
 is  at  an  end  the  moment  it  is  infiicted.  But  this  is  the  course  of 
 nature,  which  is  but  another  name  for  the  course  of  justice.  The 
 rewards  of  the  Christian,  if  he  stands,  are  incalculably  higher  ; 
 
PARADISE.  131 
 
 We  have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  this  tree 
 possessed  any  attraction  for  the  eye  or  the  taste  be- 
 yond the  others  of  the  garden  ;  for  even  in  the  hour 
 of  the  temptation,  we  are  told  no  more  than  that 
 it  was  good  for  food,  and  pleasant  to  the  eyes,  a 
 character    attributed    to   all  K       This    tree   was 
 planted    in  a   conspicuous   place — "the  tree   of 
 knowledge   in   the  midst  of  the   garden;"    and 
 this  memorial  Adam  could  never  pass,   without 
 the  recollection  that  it  was  the  direct  object  of 
 a    Divine     command ;     a   recollection    involving 
 others  of  the  highest  value — the  existence  of  the 
 great  Being  who  had  given  the  command — the 
 Divine  bounty  in  giving  himself  existence — his 
 daily  dependence  on  the   Divine  power — the  Di- 
 vine promise  of  perpetual  life  on  the  condition  of 
 his  obedience — and  the  Divine  menace  of  instant 
 death  in  the  event  of  his  disobedience. 
 
 But  why  expose  him  to  the  chance  of  offending  ? 
 This  question  refers  not  to  the  ways  of  Providence, 
 but  to  the  constitution  of  human  nature.  It  vir- 
 tually asks,  Why  has  man  been  so  formed,  that 
 trial  is  his  only  avenue  to  triumph  ;   that  moral 
 
 and  in  all  instances  he  has  a  divine  help,  a  divine  example,  and 
 a  divine  atonement,  if  he  will  not  sullenly  reject  them.  With 
 the  higher  reward  is  always  connected  the  higher  responsibility ; 
 with  the  rejection  of  the  more  powerful  and  easier  aid,  is  always 
 connected  the  greater  crime.  (Law.  Nature  of  Death — Athanas. 
 de  Incam. — Taylor's  Scrip.  Divin.  c.  9.) 
 '  Gen.  ii.  9. 
 
 k2 
 
132  PARADISE. 
 
 exercise  is  the  only  source  of  moral  vigour ;  the 
 natural  and  healthy  regimen  by  which  the  higher 
 portion  of  our  being  is  wrought  into  systematic 
 force  and  habitual  activity  ?  But  it  goes  further 
 still :  for,  extinguish  trial,  and  in  the  present  con- 
 stitution of  the  spirit  of  man,  the  direct  result  would 
 be  the  extinction  of  almost  the  entire  of  human 
 happiness.  Beyond  the  mere  indulgences  of  appe- 
 tite, all  that  we  can  pronounce  a  pleasure  is  bound 
 up  with  the  consciousness  of  our  having  a  difficulty 
 to  overcome,  and  of  our  overcoming  it.  All  that 
 we  term  rectitude,  generosity,  honour,  principle, 
 self-control,  dignity  of  mind,  the  whole  constitu- 
 ency of  virtue,  are  born  of  this  trial.  Human  life 
 cannot  administer  a  higher  delight  to  the  heart, 
 than  the  conviction  that  we  have  proved  our  jfirm- 
 ness  by  the  performance  of  our  duty ;  and  the  de- 
 light is  always  proportioned  to  the  arduous  nature 
 of  the  task.  Armed  with  this  conviction,  man  can 
 defy  the  world,  rejoice  in  the  lowest  humiliations 
 of  fortune,  and  from  the  dungeon  or  the  scaffold 
 triumph  over  the  persecutor.  Stripped  of  this 
 conviction,  life  is  tasteless ;  the  consciousness  of 
 timidity  and  tergiversation  haunts  the  most  glitter- 
 ing paths  of  fortune  ;  the  simple  sense  of  having 
 yielded,  where  it  was  honour  and  virtue  to  have 
 stood,  throws  a  shade  over  the  strongest  sunshine 
 of  the  world's  prosperity,  and  turns  the  prizes  of 
 life  into  dust  and  ashes. 
 
 Thus  the  appointment  of  a  difficulty,  even  in 
 
PARADISE.  133 
 
 the  original  state,  was  so  far  from  being  a  mere 
 arbitrary  act  of  the  Divine  will,  that  it  was  only 
 a  more  determinate  provision  for  human  happi- 
 ness ;  a  trial,  to  withhold  which  would  have  at 
 once  limited  man's  pleasures  to  those  of  the  brute, 
 and  totally  stopped  his  progress  to  perfection. 
 
 And  the  mode  of  sustaining  this  most  essential 
 idea  was  equally  consistent  with  the  Divine  benevo- 
 lence. It  might  have  been  left  to  reflection  ;  but 
 reflection  is  slow,  uncertain,  and  obscure.  It 
 might  have  been  fixed  in  some  complicated  cere- 
 monial, or  connected  with  some  mysterious  doc- 
 trine, or  been  the  object  of  a  long  succession  of 
 trials  :  for  something  like  all  those  has  been  the 
 proceeding  of  the  Deity  in  after  times.  But  in 
 the  first  instance,  He  condescended  to  the  inex- 
 perience of  the  human  mind,  by  placing  before 
 it  the  command  embodied  in  a  visible  shape ;  the 
 whole  law  of  obedience  concentred  in  the  simple 
 abstinence  from  a  simple  object  of  sense ;  and 
 that  object  one  offering  no  peculiar  temptation, 
 amid  the  general  richness  and  beauty  of  nature. 
 
 The  cause  being  once  conceived,  why  a  visible 
 object  was  chosen  ;  the  question,  why  that  object 
 was  a  fruit,  is  scarcely  worth  pursuing.  It  has 
 been  justly  observed,  that  the  solitary  state  of 
 man  prohibited  the  majority  of  human  offences. 
 They  belong  tosociety.  Adam's  power  of  transgres- 
 sion was  narrowed,  as  no  man's  has  ever  been 
 since.  The  whole  Table  of  the  Law,  which  pro- 
 hibits injuries  to  our  neighbour,  was  to  him   a 
 
134  PARADISE. 
 
 non-existence.  His  only  offence  could  be  against 
 Heaven ;  a  breach  of  that  Divine  command, 
 which  might  have  been  equally  annexed  to  any 
 production  of  nature. 
 
 Another  stage  in  his  progress  now  commenced. 
 He  was  to  become  the  progenitor  of  the  human 
 race.  "And  God  said,  It  is  not  good  that  man 
 should  be  alone.  I  will  make  him  a  help  meet 
 for  him."  The  habitual  process  of  Providence — 
 to  make  every  want  of  man  an  impulse  to  his 
 heart  or  his  understanding,  was  strikingly  adopted 
 in  this  instance.  His  new  companionship  was  not 
 to  be  given,  until  his  reason  had  acknowledged  its 
 necessity.  All  the  animals  of  Paradise,  including 
 probably  the  more  important  and  beautiful  species 
 in  existence  \  were  brought,  by  the  Divine  com- 
 mand, before  him,  that  he  might  form  some 
 general  conception  of  their  natures,  and  give  them 
 names  from  his  impressions.  The  result,  supplying 
 the  complete  evidence  that  companionship  for 
 man  was  not  to  be  found  among  them,  was  fol- 
 lowed b}'^  the  formation  of  Eve. 
 
 Some  interesting  discussion  has  been  raised 
 upon  the  light  which  this  naming  of  the  animals 
 may  have  thrown  on  the  origin  of  language.  It 
 has  been  termed  the  first  lesson  ^  Yet  nothing 
 can   be   clearer  than  that  language  never  could 
 
 *  Bochart.  Hieroz.  p.  1. — Dathein  Gen.  2. — Lardner,  Essay, 
 vol.  V. 
 
 ^  The  late  Archbishop  Magee,  in  his  work  on  the  Atonement, 
 (No.  53),  incautiously  advocates  this  conjecture. 
 
PARADISE.  135 
 
 have  been  acquired  by  the  mere  act  of  naming. 
 The  faculty  must  be  possessed  before  it  can  be 
 thus  exerted.     The  peculiar  words  might  have 
 been,  of  course,  acquired,  by  hearing  them  first 
 pronounced  by  the   Deity.     But  this  is  not  the 
 statement  of  the   history.     Adam    spontaneously 
 invents  and  applies  :   but  the  whole  conception, 
 that  this  was  the  first  lesson  of  language,  must  be 
 given  up,  when  we  recollect  that  a  Divine  com- 
 munication in  words  had    already  taken   place. 
 "  God  hath  said.  Ye  shall  not  eat  of  it,"  (the  tree 
 of  knowledge)  \     To  comprehend  words,  implies, 
 in  some  degree,  the  power  of  using  them  ;  and 
 this  power,  which  there  was  no  time  to  teach,  and 
 no  opportunity  to  learn,  (for  this  was  but  the  first 
 day  of  human  existence,)   must  have  been  given 
 as  a  natural  faculty  to  man.     On  this  day  also, 
 Adam  uttered  the  prophecy  on  the  formation  of 
 woman, — a  rapidity  of  acquirement  totally  incon- 
 ceivable on  human  grounds. 
 
 Yet  it  is  not  necessary  to  conceive  that  language 
 attained  its  perfection  at  once — for  that  perfection 
 depends  on  its  abundance  of  the  names  of  things, 
 its  dexterity,  force,  and  elegance,  qualities  which 
 must  await  their  natural  growth  by  the  cultivation 
 of  society.  The  original  faculty  was  the  power  of 
 adapting  words  to  the  wants  of  the  time,  the  gift 
 of  constimction ;  an  universal  gift,  yet  a  most  re 
 
 •  Gen.  iii.  3. 
 
136  PARADISE. 
 
 raarkable  one.  The  grammar  of  a  new  language 
 is  proverbially  one  of  the  most  repulsive  studies. 
 The  formation  of  a  new  language  by  an  in- 
 dividual, of  whatever  accomplishment  of  mind, 
 would  be  a  labour  of  the  severest  difficulty  :  yet  it 
 is  the  every-day  work  of  savages.  If  we  are  to 
 believe  in  the  human  invention  of  language  ;  the 
 Negro,  the  Esquimaux,  the  American  Indian, 
 fabricate  their  own  grammars,  and  throw  the 
 philosopher  into  the  shade.  A  solitary  savage 
 would  not  invent  a  language,  and  might  even  lose 
 the  language  which  he  possessed  ;  because  speech 
 is  necessary  only  for  communication :  but  two 
 savages  would  not  be  a  week  together  without  a 
 language.  The  words  might  be  few,  but  the 
 construction  would  be  ready  :  an  attainment,  for 
 which,  as  study  must  be  out  of  the  question,  we 
 can  look  only  to  the  instincts  of  the  human 
 mind. 
 
 The  true  companionship  of  man  was  now  to  be 
 supplied  ;  and  Eve  was  formed,  of  the  flesh  and 
 blood  of  Adam. 
 
 The  narrative  announces  a  miracle  ;  but  all  the 
 circumstances  retain  the  habitual  suitableness  of 
 the  Divine  action  to  the  course  of  nature.  If  it 
 were  the  sole  purpose  of  the  Creator  to  convince 
 man  that  the  new  being  was  fitted  for  his  com- 
 panionship by  partaking  of  the  same  species,  and 
 thus  at  once  to  establish  its  equality,  and  entitle 
 it  to  his  affection ;  what  expedient  can  the  mind 
 
PARADISE.  137 
 
 conceive,  more  directly  adequate  to  this  purpose, 
 than  the  evidence  that  woman  was  actually  a 
 portion  of  his  frame  ?  Eve  might,  with  equal 
 ease,  have  been  formed  of  the  dust, — or  sum- 
 moned into  existence  at  the  same  moment  with 
 himself, — or  created  out  of  nothing, — or  brought 
 visibly  from  another  sphere.  Still,  in  all  those 
 cases,  there  would  have  been  a  deficiency  of 
 union,  an  inferiority  to  that  incontrovertible  evi- 
 dence of  relationship  and  almost  identity,  which 
 arose  from  her  being  made  of  his  flesh  and  blood, 
 and  being  seen  to  be  so  made.  Woman,  thus 
 formed,  must  have  been  instinctively  acknow- 
 ledged as  the  second  self  of  mdin.  And  that  the  pur- 
 pose was  a  connexion  of  no  less  completeness,  is  the 
 language  of  Adam,  speaking  by  the  direct  dictate 
 of  Heaven,  and  prophesying  of  that  state  of  so- 
 ciety, of  which  he  could  have  known  nothing  but 
 by  inspiration  :  "  This  is  now  bone  of  my  bone, 
 and  flesh  of  my  flesh  ^  She  shall  be  called 
 Woman ^;  because   she  was  taken  out  of  man. 
 
 Some  long  but  trifling  disquisitions  have  been  raised  even 
 upon  this  subject.  It  has  been  said  that  the  i^^lJ,  the  rib,  implied 
 the  whole  side  :  the  Septuagint  translates  it  irXevpa,  Vulg.  Costa. 
 that  the  frame  of  man  is  not  deficient  by  a  rib,  &c.  But  the 
 plain  meaning  of  the  original  word  is  that  given  in  the  common 
 translation  ;  its  origin  is  the  radical  yb)l,  incurvus  fuit.  Hack- 
 span.  Notae. — Schleusn.  Ixx. 
 
 The  original  nam.e  is  expressive  of  this  assimilation  of  na- 
 ture. She  shall  be  called  TW^  {aisha),  from  man,  who  was  call- 
 ed Itf^M,  from  li;^K,  to  be  vivid,  active,  &c. 
 
138  PARADISE. 
 
 Therefore  shall  a  man  leave  his  father  and  his 
 mother,  and  shall  cleave  unto  his  wife,  and  they 
 shall  be  one  flesh."  A  declaration  which  our 
 Lord  has  proclaimed  to  be  a  law  of  God. 
 
 The  first  pair  being  formed,  God  declared  to 
 both,  their  purposes,  their  power,  and  their  enjoy- 
 ments, all  comprehended  in  one  great  benediction : 
 "  And  God  blessed  them ;  and  God  said  unto 
 them.  Be  fruitful  and  multiply,  and  replenish  the 
 earth,  and  subdue  it.  And  have  dominion  over 
 the  fish  of  the  sea,  and  over  the  fowls  of  the  air, 
 and  over  every  living  thing  that  moveth  upon  the 
 earth.  And  God  said,  Behold  I  have  given  you 
 every  herb  bearing  seed,  which  is  upon  the  face  of 
 all  the  earth  ;  and  every  tree,  in  which  is  the  fruit 
 of  a  tree  yielding  seed  ;  to  you  it  shall  be  for 
 meat\" 
 
 '  Gen.  ii.  28,  &c. 
 
CHAPTER   VII. 
 
 THE  FALL. 
 
 The  period  during  which  Adam  continued  in 
 Paradise,  is  beyond  human  knowledge  :  the  his- 
 tory is  silent.  Some  writers  suppose  that  the 
 state  of  innocence  lasted  a  hundred  years,  others 
 but  a  week,  others  but  a  day.  Both  extremes 
 may  be  in  error.  It  is  improbable  that  the  longer 
 period  should  have  been  suffered  to  intervene 
 between  the  blessing  of  "increase"  and  its  fulfil- 
 ment. Yet  the  history  declares,  that  it  was  not 
 until  after  the  expulsion  from  Paradise  that  Cain 
 was  born. 
 
 On  the  other  hand.  Providence  seldom  precipi- 
 tates its  work.  It  is  not  inconsistent  with  the 
 history,  and  it  is  perfectly  consistent  with  nature, 
 to  suppose  that  the  first  pair  were  allowed  some 
 sufficient  period  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the 
 wonders  so  profusely  spread  round  them,  of  the 
 beneficence  of  the  Creator,  and,  by  practical  con- 
 viction, of  the  happiness  of  a  life  of  innocence. 
 Who  shall  say  how  magnificently  their  solitude 
 
140  THE  FALL. 
 
 might  not  have  been  cheered  and  peopled  by  the 
 spirits  of  heaven  ?  They  had  the  presence  of 
 the  Creator  ;  the  source  of  incomparable  light, 
 knowledge  and  happiness.  Thus  living  in  the 
 untroubled  joy  of  children,  they  may  have  been 
 left  in  some  degree  to  that  gradual  operation  of 
 nature  by  which  maturity  of  mind  and  body  is  the 
 result  of  time. 
 
 But  the  severer  period  was  at  hand.  Under  the 
 present  constitution  of  the  moral  world,  virtue 
 cannot  exist,  but  where  a  power  of  choosing  be- 
 tween good  and  evil  exists ;  virtue  itself  being 
 scarcely  more  than  the  determination  by  which 
 we  reject  the  evil,  and  adopt  the  good  \  This  is 
 universal  experience.  Every  man  feels  that  he 
 has  it  in  his  power  to  transgress.  His  refusal  to 
 exert  this  power,  on  principle,  is  virtue  ;  and  his 
 merit  rises  with  the  exact  degree  of  his  tempta- 
 tion. Thus,  that  Adam  should  undergo  the  test, 
 was  strictly  in  the  course  of  nature,  as  we  see  it  at 
 this  hour. 
 
 But,  in  his  trial  there  was  another  striking 
 similarity  to  our  common  experience.  In  nearly 
 all  nations,  if  not  in  all,  there  has  been  an  es- 
 tablished test  of  individual  fitness  for  the  general 
 offices  of  society ;  and  this  has  been  always  fixed 
 at  the  period  when  the  individual,  ceasing  to  be 
 under  the  care  of  others,  has  arrived  at  manhood. 
 
 *  Virtue,  or  moral  rectitude,  does  indeed  consist  in  affection 
 to,  and  pursuit  of,  what  is  right  and  good. — BullcTt  Analogy. 
 
THE  FALL.  141 
 
 Among  the  nations  of  the  ancient  world,  the  test 
 was  chiefly  the  exhibition  of  personal  prowess  ; 
 among  the  savage  tribes  of  the  present  day,  it  is 
 patience  under  pain  and  privation  :  in  all  instances 
 it  has  applied  to  the  qualities  most  important  to  the 
 individual  as  a  member  of  the  community.  Among 
 ourselves,  where  bodily  distinctions  are  of  less 
 value,  the  semblance  of  the  test  is  retained  in 
 those  legal  formalities  by  which  the  heir  is  acknow- 
 ledged to  be  intellectually  capable  of  his  heirship. 
 An  observance  so  universal  seems  to  be  little  less 
 than  a  dictate  of  nature. 
 
 With  Adam  the  period  had  arrived,  when  he 
 was  to  commence  the  actual  sovereignty,  included 
 in  the  parentage,  of  mankind.  No  time  appears 
 more  suitable  for  the  evidence  that  he  possessed 
 the  moral  qualities  which  were  to  be  so  importantly 
 employed.  This  test  has  been  named  the  temp- 
 tation. "  Let  no  man  say  that  he  is  tempted  of 
 God,"  is  the  language  of  Scripture  ;  it  is  no  less 
 the  language  of  reason.  It  is  utterly  impossible 
 to  conceive  that  the  God  of  all  purity  and  bene- 
 volence can  prompt  the  evil  of  his  creatures.  But 
 it  may  be  among  the  high  displays  of  his  bene- 
 ficence to  try  their  qualities,  for  the  purpose  of 
 purifying  and  invigorating  them,  if  they  stand  the 
 test.  In  our  limited  knowledoe  of  the  moral 
 system,  it  even  seems  not  improbable  that  this  is 
 the  only  way  in  which  they  can  be  strengthened, 
 without  a  miracle.     And  for  this  purpose  He  may 
 
142  THE  FALL. 
 
 justly  use  the  means  offered  by  circumstances. 
 The  evil  spirit,  in  the  gratification  of  his  own 
 malignity,  sought  the  overthrow  of  the  first  man, 
 as  he  does  of  all  his  offspring.  Satan  can  do 
 nothing  but  by  sufferance.  God  suffered  the 
 malignity  of  satan  to  try  the  firmness  of  Adam, 
 as  he  afterwards  suffered  him  to  try  the  patience 
 of  Job,  and  the  fidelity  of  Peter.  *'  Satan  hath 
 desired  to  have  thee,  that  he  might  sift  thee  as 
 wheat,"  is  our  Lord's  declaration  to  the  apostle 
 Peter,  who  failed  under  the  trial,  and  was  restored 
 only  by  the  mercy  of  his  master.  Thus  the  temp- 
 tation of  Adam  was  similar  in  its  chief  instrument 
 to  the  subsequent  temptations  of  the  saints ;  and 
 so  far  as  the  experience  of  the  Christian  can  be  a 
 guide,  the  same  struggle  is  still  maintained,  the 
 trial  permitted  by  the  same  sufferance,  and  the 
 ruin  averted  by  the  same  vigilant  mercy. 
 
 It  has  been  asked,  why  should  Satan  exhibit 
 this  furious  hatred  against  man  ?  Why  should 
 this  powerful  spirit  be  distinguished  by  so  des- 
 perate and  boundless  a  determination  against  the 
 welfare  of  beings,  but  just  brought  into  existence  ; 
 innocent,  and  totally  incapable  of  provoking  hos- 
 tility ?  Why  should  he  persevere,  when  his  own 
 sagacit}?-  must  dictate  to  him  his  helplessness 
 against  the  final  purposes  of  heaven  ;  and  when 
 his  own  experience  must  have  taught  him  the 
 terrors  of  the  Divine  indignation  ?  Those  ques- 
 tions have  been  needlessly  perplexed,  by  attempts 
 
THE  FALL.  143 
 
 to  discover  their  answers  among  the  mysteries  of 
 the  Divine  decrees,  of  which  we  can  know  no- 
 thing; among  the  habits  of  the  spiritual  world,  of 
 which  we  can  know  no  more  ;  and  even  among 
 the  Rabbinical  traditions,  of  all  fables  the  most 
 trifling.  Yet,  confessedly  remote  as  the  subject  is, 
 the  conduct  of  the  evil  spirit  is  plainly  compre- 
 hensible on  the  common  grounds  of  nature.  That 
 a  detected  criminal  should  feel  enmity  to  his  de- 
 tector and  punisher  ;  and  that  his  enmity  should  be 
 bitter  in  proportion  to  the  rank  from  which  the 
 punishment  had  degraded  him,  the  keenness  of  the 
 punishment,  and  the  hopelessness  of  restoration, 
 is  perfectly  analogous  to  all  human  nature.  It  is 
 thus  perfectly  in  the  course  of  things,  that  a  rebel 
 spirit,  holding  the  rank  of  a  prince  among  angels, 
 and  probably  approaching  in  power,  as  we  may 
 well  conceive  from  its  fearful  extent  even  in  his 
 fallen  state,  as  near  as  the  creature  can  ap- 
 proach to  the  Creator  ;  yet,  flung  from  his  splendid 
 height,  ruined  in  the  sight  of  the  hosts  of  heaven, 
 and  driven  into  exile  for  ever,  might  be  stimu- 
 lated by  an  indescribable  intensity  of  revenge. 
 Time  too  has  its  eflfect  in  deepening  the  perversion 
 of  the  heart.  What  might  not  be  the  capacity  of  a 
 thousand,  or  ten  thousand,  years  of  bitter  thoughts 
 and  bafliled  hatred,  working  on  a  mind  of  the 
 highest  intellectual  vigour,  and  the  keenest  and 
 most  comprehensive  impulses,  to  envenom  its  whole 
 being  into  sleepless,  desperate,  and  deadly  hos- 
 
 1 
 
144  THE  FALL. 
 
 tility  ?  Conscious  that  his  Sovereign  was  totally- 
 inaccessible,  he  would  wreak  his  revenge  on  his 
 favourite  works  ;  and  pursue  this  headlong  career, 
 even  in  the  fullest  knowledge  that  he  was  heaping 
 dreadful  retribution  on  his  own  head.  For,  what 
 is  the  course  of  human  nature,  in  its  perversion  ; 
 which  is  but  a  nearer  approach  to  the  satanic  '  ? 
 
 When  revenge,  of  all  the  evil  passions  the  most 
 absorbing,  obtains  the  complete  mastery  of  man, 
 all  other  considerations  vanish  before  it ;  love, 
 honour,  faith,  even  self-interest,  and  life,  are 
 nothing  in  the  scale.  It  usurps  his  whole  being ; 
 it  is  all  but  an  actual  possession.  All  fear  is  lost, 
 with  all  feeling.  He  knows  that  the  gratification 
 of  his  terrible  impulse  will  draw  down  upon  him 
 the  weight  of  the  law  ;  he  scoffs  at  punishment ;  — 
 that  it  will  drive  him  from  society,  or  from  exist- 
 ence ;  he  faces  ruin  with  his  eyes  open.  In  coun- 
 tries where  human  malignity  is  more  licenced  by 
 the  weakness  of  the  government  or  the  habits  of 
 the  people,  than  in  ours,  he  is  only  more  pal- 
 pably a  wild  beast,  or  a  fiend.  He  toils  for  years 
 on    the    single   purpose,    the   destruction    of  his 
 
 '  The  works  upon  the  existence  and  nature  of  Spirits  are  end- 
 less. The  chief  are  Cassman,  Angelographia.  Ode  de  Angelis. 
 Mayer,  Hist.  Diaboli.  Morus.  Epit.  Theol.  C.  Windet  de 
 Vita  Functorum.  Spencer,  de  Leg.  L.  3.  Mede,  D.  4.  Gill, 
 Body  of  Divin.  v.  i.  Dcederlcin,  Inst.  Theol.  C.  and  the  very 
 curious,  wild,  and  learned  book  by  Rusca  ;  De  Inferno  et  Statu 
 Daemonum. 
 
THE    FALL.  145 
 
 enemy ;  he  calumniates  and  betra3's,  until  he  can 
 stab  or  poison  ;  he  is  not  content  with  the  blood, 
 he  rends  and  tramples  upon  the  carcase.  If  he  is 
 at  last  seized  by  the  slack  hand  of  foreign  justice, 
 he  defies  its  inflictions  ;  or  even  extracts  a  gloomy 
 joy  from  the  severity  of  the  price  which  he  has 
 paid  for  his  revenge.  He  dies,  with  the  world 
 past,  and  the  world  to  come,  equally  shut  out 
 by  the  one  paramount  idea: — he  has  had  his 
 revenge  ! 
 
 If  such  be  the  force  of  the  passion,  on  so  brief 
 a  scale  as  the  heart  and  irritations  of  man  ;  what 
 may  be  its  tempest  in  beings,  all  whose  passions, 
 like  their  powers,  must  be  immeasurably  more 
 sensitive,  and  capacious  of  evil ;  who  see  far  into 
 futurity,  and  see  nothing  there  but  evil, — sons 
 of  the  morning,  ruined— monarchs,  fallen  from 
 thrones  of  light,  into  chains  irredeemable,— heirs 
 of  glory,  darkened  for  ever  ? 
 
 The  whole  procedure  of  Satan,  in  betraying 
 our  first  parents,  is  equally  true  to  nature.  Wo- 
 man, though  often  exhibiting  force  of  mind,  is 
 characterized  by  the  predominance  of  the  gentler 
 faculties,  and  by  an  excitable  fancy.  Those  are  the 
 qualities  fitted  for  her  ofiice  in  society,  and  their 
 exchange  for  the  severer  powers  of  man  would 
 only  render  her  less  useful  and  less  loved.  But 
 man,  too,  has  his  feelings  ;  and  where  the  strength 
 of  his  understanding  would  repel  the  danger,  he 
 may   be  undone    by   indolent  incaution,    by  the 
 
146  THE    FALL. 
 
 force  of  example,  or  by  that  powerful  sympathy 
 which  plunges  into  ruin  for  the  sake  of  its  asso- 
 ciate in  passion  and  in  shame. 
 
 Thus  the  first  effort  of  the  Tempter  is  addressed 
 to  Eve.  His  approach  is  made  in  the  unsuspicious 
 manner  of  a  question  of  mere  curiosity,  possibly 
 mingled  with  some  apparent  degree  of  interest  in 
 the  lovely  and  innocent  being  before  him.  There 
 seems  even  to  be  something  of  a  gentle  taunt,  or 
 slight  summons  to  vanity,  in  the  question \  "  Yea! 
 hath  God  said,  Ye  shall  not  eat  oi  every  tree  of  the 
 garden  ?"  Can  it  be,  that  3'ou,  the  acknowledged 
 possessors  of  Paradise,  are  yet  liable  to  restrictions 
 on  its  enjoyment  ? — Eve's  answer  is  not  unlike  a 
 vindication  of  the  completeness  of  the  right.  She 
 first  asserts  the  full  possession  of  the  produce  of 
 Paradise  : — "  We  may  eat  of  the  trees  of  the  gar- 
 den." And  then  states  the  single  prohibition  and 
 the  penalty.  The  mention  of  the  penalty  gives 
 the  Tempter  an  additional  topic ;  of  which  he 
 takes  instant  advantage. 
 
 From  covertly  questioning  the  generosity  of  the 
 Creator,  he  now  openly  contests  his  truth  : — "  Ye 
 shall  not  surely  die."  He  goes  further  still,  and 
 adds,  that  not  merely  a  deception  has  been  practised, 
 but  that  it  has  been  practised  for  the  purpose  of 
 defrauding  the  human  race  of  a  high  and  natural 
 accession  of  knowledge,  dignity,  and  happiness. 
 
 '  In  the  Septuagint  it  is,  "  T« !  on  n-mv  o  Qtoql"    "What! 
 hath  God  said,  &c. 
 
THE    FALL.  147 
 
 *'  God  doth  know  that  in  the  day  ye  eat  thereof, 
 then  shall  your  eyes  be  opened  ;  and  ye  shall  he 
 as  Gods,  knowing  good  and  evil." 
 
 The  name  of  the  tree  had  been  given  by  the 
 Deity  himself;  and,  that  some  striking  influx  of 
 knowledge  or  additional  strength  of  faculties  was 
 connected,  by  some  mysterious  link,  with  the 
 fruit,  might  have  been  already  a  human  concep- 
 tion. The  Tempter  adopts  the  name,  and  perverts 
 it  into  temptation.  It  is  curious,  that  this  artifice 
 exhibits  the  character  which,  whether  from  the 
 inspired  writings,  or  from  other  sources,  has  al- 
 ways been  ascribed  to  the  delusions  of  the  evil 
 spirit, — a  mixture  of  seeming  truth  with  false- 
 hood, the  "  keeping  the  word  of  promise  to  the 
 ear,  and  breaking  it  to  the  hope."  ''  Ye  shall  be 
 as  gods,  knowing  good  and  evil,"  possessed  ex- 
 actly that  portion  of  truth  which  was  sufficient  to 
 envenom  the  discovery  of  ruin. 
 
 It  has  been  objected,  that  temptation  by  a  fruit 
 was  trivial ;  and  such  it  would  undoubtedly  be, 
 if  the  pleasures  of  the  eye  or  the  appetite  were 
 the  sole  inducement.  But  the  true  temptation, 
 and  the  only  temptation  which  the  serpent  pro- 
 nounced, was,  ''  Ye  shall  be  as  gods."''  And 
 what  loftier  illusion  could  be  offered  to  the  human 
 mind  ?  The  forms  assumed  by  the  spirits  of  hea- 
 ven, on  their  missions  to  the  earth,  were  probably 
 often  visible  to  our  first  parents,  as  they  subse- 
 quently were  to   a  race  of  inferior  dignity,   the 
 
 l2 
 
148  THE    FALL. 
 
 patriarchal  line.  But  they  had  seen  a  Being 
 infinitely  higher  than  all  angels — the  Creator. 
 What  magnificent  temptation  was  not  couched  in 
 the  hope  to  be  the  equal  of  that  Being ;  to  seize, 
 at  a  single  effort,  an  immunity  from  the  chances 
 of  life,  and  a  complete  possession  of  the  glories  of 
 the  future ;  to  be,  at  once,  supreme  in  wisdom, 
 matchless  in  power,  and  unlimited  in  existence. 
 All  were  in  the  words,  "  Ye  shall  be  as  gods'." 
 
 The  only  difficulty  is,  how  so  high  a  suggestion 
 could  have  been  believed  ?  Yet  we  must  acknow- 
 ledge the  singular  readiness  of  the  human  heart 
 to  believe  all  that  it  wishes  to  be  true ;  the  fatal 
 facility  with  which  it  suffers  the  allurement  to 
 shut  the  penalty  out  of  sight ;  and  the  magni- 
 tude assumed  by  the  most  insignificant  object, 
 seen  through  the  haze  of  the  passions.  Man, 
 every  day,  sacrifices  the  most  important  interests 
 
 '  That  Satan  was  the  actual  deceiver,  is  the  universal  testi- 
 mony of  Scripture.  He  is  pronounced  "  a  murderer  from  the 
 beginning," — from  the  first,  a  cause  of  death  to  man.  (John  viii. 
 4.)  The  atonement,  given  for  the  acknowledged  purpose  of 
 retrieving  the  effects  of  the  fall,  is  declared  to  be  for  the  pur- 
 pose of  "  destroying  the  works  of  the  Devil."  (1  John  iii.  8.) 
 It  was  prophesied  that  between  the  seed  of  the  woman  and  the 
 seed  of  the  serpent  there  should  be  enmity.  Our  Lord  directly 
 applies  the  prophecy  to  the  Pharisees,  who,  after  exhibiting  the 
 most  inveterate  hostility  to  his  mission,  finally  persecuted  him 
 to  the  cross.  He  names  the  Jewish  Scribes  the  seed  of  the 
 old  serpent ;  and  gives,  as  the  equivalent  name,  the  "  sons  of 
 their  father,  the  Devils 
 
THE    FALL.  149 
 
 of    his   being,     to    objects    that    scandalize    his 
 understanding. 
 
 The  actual  form  under  which  the  Tempter  ap- 
 peared to  Eve,  has  given  rise  to  a  singular  quan- 
 tity of  unimportant  disquisition.  By  some,  the 
 serpent  has  been  supposed  a  superior  species  of 
 reptile,  with  wings;  by  others,  an  ouran-outang  ; 
 by  others,  a  basilisk,  &c.'  But  those  are  learned 
 triflings,  and  arise  from  a  neglect  of  the  literal 
 narrative,  or  an  ambition  to  be  wiser  than  Scrip- 
 ture. The  narrative  alone  is  clear  and  natural : 
 it  states  that,  among  the  inferior  animals,  there 
 was  one  race  which  stood  at  their  head  for  intelli- 
 gence^— the  u;n3,  the  serpent,  "  more  subtle  than 
 any  other  beast  of  the  field.''''  We  know  how  closely 
 the  intelligence  of  some  of  the  beasts  of  the  field 
 approaches  to  the  human  faculties.  The  half 
 reasoning  elephant,  the  dog,  and  the  ape,  often 
 astonish  us  by  the  evidence  of  their  sagacity ; 
 but  it  is  declared  that  the  serpent  once  possessed 
 this  sagacity  in  a  still  highe?'  degree  than  any 
 other  of  the  brute  species.  It  is  perfectly  possible 
 to  conceive  a  rate  of  intelligence  midway  between 
 the  elephant  and  man.  From  our  habits,  and 
 from  our  possessing  the  sole  use  of  words,  we  too 
 hastily  conclude  that  intellect  forms  the  essential 
 
 '  Tenison  on  Idolatry.    Mayer,  Hist.  Diaboli,     Maimonides. 
 M.  Nevoch,  &c. 
 
150  THE    FALL. 
 
 distinction  between  man  and  the  brute.  The 
 moral  capacity  is  the  essential  distinction.  The 
 intellectual  line  varies  widely,  and,  in  some  in- 
 stances, presses  close.  Neither  the  form  nor  the 
 faculties  of  the  existing  serpent  correspond  to  the 
 description  in  the  text.  The  subtilty  and  the 
 speech  are  there  declared  to  have  belonged  to  an 
 animal  possessing  nothing  in  common  with  it, 
 but  the  name.  The  serpent  of  Paradise  was  not 
 a  reptile,  but  a  beast  of  the  field,  biped,  or 
 quadruped. 
 
 The  objections  to  the  utterance  of  speech  by 
 this  animal  are  trivial.  Speech  depends  upon 
 two  things,  and  upon  two  alone, — intelligence 
 and  the  physical  organs.  The  intelligence  of  the 
 elephant  or  the  dog  might  often  bear  transplant- 
 ing into  speech ;  and  we  often  so  transplant  it, 
 when  we  speak  of  their  docility  and  their  affec- 
 tions. But  they  want  the  physical  organs,  which 
 give  the  speech  of  man  its  readiness,  copiousness, 
 and  accuracy.  Yet  all  animals,  almost  down  to 
 the  zoophyte,  have  the  power  of  expressing  their 
 wants  and  purposes  by  sounds ;  some  of  them  by 
 sounds  so  varied  and  so  exact,  that  we  can  inter- 
 pret them  as  the  language  of  fear,  hunger,  joy, 
 pain,  rage,  &c.  They  have,  thus  far,  attained  a 
 speech ;  a  rude  and  limited  instrument,  it  is  true, 
 compared  with  that  of  man,  but  an  instrument  of 
 the  same  kind  :  for  speech,  in  its  highest  state,  is 
 only  a  more  dexterous  and  abundant  use  of  sounds. 
 Yet   even    the    physical    organs    are    sometimes 
 
TIJE    FALL.  151 
 
 given.  Would  the  man  who  had  never  seen  a 
 parrot,  be  entitled  to  assume  the  impossibility  of 
 a  bird's  possessing  the  articulation  of  the  human 
 voice'.' 
 
 Nothing  is  more  easily  conceivable  than  the 
 existence  of  a  creature  possessing  the  organs  of 
 articulation  in  at  least  as  high  a  degree  as  the 
 parrot,  with  intelligence  in  at  least  as  high  a 
 degree  as  the  dog  or  the  elephant.  It  is  equally 
 conceivable  that  such  a  creature,  probably  beau- 
 tiful, and  submissive,  as  all  animals  then  were', 
 might  be  an  object  of  familiarity  and  interest  with 
 our  first  parents,  as  it  would  undoubtedly  be  with 
 ourselves  ;  and  that  Eve  might  have  found  it  sport- 
 ing at  the  foot  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  without 
 experiencing  any  of  that  alarm  which  puts  the 
 mind  on  its  guard. 
 
 To  get  rid  of  the  presumed  dijSiculty  of 
 temptation  by  so  simple  an  instrument,  writers  of 
 considerable  name  have  exercised  their  invention 
 with  laborious  and  useless  variety.  It  has  been 
 thus  successively  conceived^ : — That  Satan  came 
 as  an  angel, — as  a  man, — as  a  fiery  serpent, — as 
 an  ape,  &c.  &c.  His  proceeding  is  equally  con- 
 troverted. Some  think  that  the  serpent  spoke 
 by  a  voice  suddenly  given  by  Satan  ;  others,  that 
 
 '  Joseph.  Antiquit.  Lib.  1. 
 
 ^  Tenison,  C.  14.  Heidigger  Hist.  Patriar.  Ex.  4.  Ode 
 Comm.  de  Angelis.  C.  3.     Markius,  Hist.  Paxad.  &c. 
 
152  THE    FALL. 
 
 he  did  not  speak,  and  that  the  whole  description 
 of  the  dialogue  refers  merely  to  the  fluctuations 
 of  the  mind  of  Eve  ;  others,  that  the  serpent  both 
 spoke  and  acted, — climbing  the  tree,  tasting  the 
 fruit,  and  giving  its  marvellous  eftect  upon  him- 
 self as  a  proof  of  its  virtues.  Our  refuge  from 
 those  learned  inconsistencies,  must  be  in  the  sim- 
 plicity of  the  original  record.  If  the  Tempter 
 had  come  as  an  angel,  his  presence  might  have 
 been  more  overpowering  ;  but  liis  very  splendour, 
 combined  with  his  formal  contradiction  of  Divine 
 authority,  might  have  awakened  alarm.  If  as  a 
 man,  the  knowledge  that  Adam  alone  existed  under 
 that  form  must  have  been  a  source  of  suspicion. 
 The  sudden  and  the  splendid  were  equally  startling. 
 Further  conceptions  are  pressed  with  similar  diffi- 
 culties. The  literal  narrative  alone  offers  to  us  an 
 object  clear  of  all  suspicion, — an  innocent  and 
 familiar  animal,  as  incapable,  in  its  own  nature, 
 of  conceiving  a  design  against  man,  as  the  dog 
 that  fawned  at  his  feet,  or  the  cattle  that  sported 
 round  him  in  the  field.  Whatever  a  creature  of 
 this  kind,  too,  could  communicate  by  its  little 
 faculties,  would  be  looked  on  as  less  the  result  of 
 intention  than  instinct,  a  spontaneous  truth  of 
 nature.  Even  now,  we  are  sometimes  directed 
 by  the  instincts  of  animals  to  the  use  or  avoidance 
 of  peculiar  products  of  the  earth.  But,  who  ever 
 conceives  a  design  of  either  good  or  evil  in  the 
 guide  ?     The  temptation  was  only  an  example  of 
 
THE    FALL.  153 
 
 this  guidance,   on  a  higher  scale,  suited  to  the 
 superior,  known  intelligence  of  the  animal. 
 
 The  suggestion  of  the  evil  spirit  coming  in  this 
 totally  unsuspicious  shape,  to  Eve;  and  combining 
 with  the  love,  the  vanity,  and  the  pride,  which  might 
 mingle  in  the  hope  of  raising  Adam  and  herself 
 to  the  rank  of  celestial  beings,  might  have  acted 
 strongly  upon  an  unfortified  mind.  The  fruit  itself 
 offered  no  warning  repulsion  to  the  eye  or  taste  \ 
 "  And  when  the  woman  saw  that  the  tree  was 
 good  for  food,  and  that  it  was  pleasant  to  the  eye, 
 and  a  tree  to  be  desired  to  make  one  wise,  she 
 took  of  the  fruit,  and  did  eat."    Naturally  sharing 
 
 *  The  three  doubtless  joined  their  influence  in  the  tempta- 
 tion. The  indulgence  of  the  eye,  the  indulgence  of  the  taste, 
 and  the  indulgence  of  vain  glory,  constitute  the  essence  of  all 
 temptation  to  this  hour.  The  text  which  enumerates  the  lust 
 of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life,  (1  John  ii. 
 16.)  as  the  sources  of  human  guilt,  has  been  echoed  alike  by 
 heathen  philosophy  and  human  experience.  And  this  adds 
 only  to  the  proof,  that  the  narrative  of  the  original  crime  is  con- 
 sistent in  all  its  features.  Appetite,  show,  and  the  love  of 
 power,  are  still  the  great  sources  of  crime ;  but  the  last  stUl 
 holds  the  supremacy,  in  its  influence  and  its  evil :  as  both  an 
 exciter  of  the  more  vigorous,  and,  consequently,  of  the  more 
 dangerous  minds  ;  and  as  exercising  an  illusion  more  allied  to 
 strength  of  character,  more  undecayed  by  years,  and  more  daz- 
 zling to  the  man  and  to  the  multitude.  Sensuality  and  vanity, 
 brief  in  their  existence,  and  feeble  in  their  means,  are  toys,  com- 
 pared with  the  iron  shackle  which  the  love  of  power  and  name 
 fixes  on  the  mind,  the  age  to  which  it  endures,  and  the  remorse- 
 less mischiefs  which  it  inflicts  upon  mankind. 
 
154  THE    FALL. 
 
 the  delight  of  the  discovery  with  Adam,  "  she 
 gave  also  to  her  husband  with  her,  and  he  did 
 eat."  Why  the  graver  understanding  of  man 
 thus  rapidly  yielded,  is  left  to  our  conjecture  ; 
 but  the  power  of  beauty,  of  persuasion,  of  the 
 pride  of  heart  in  defying  all  hazards  for  the 
 object  of  the  aflPections,  and  even  of  fear  and 
 anguish  in  the  prospect  of  its  loss,  are  influences 
 which  have  made  themselves  felt  in  every  age  of 
 human  nature. 
 
 If  such  influences  still  retain  their  power,  under 
 all  the  chillness  and  worldliness  wrought  into  the 
 heart  by  the  struggles  of  life  ;  what  might  not  be 
 the  strength  of  passion  and  sorrow  in  the  instance 
 of  the  first  man,  on  the  point  of  being  separated 
 for  ever  from  a  creature  formed  in  a  perfection  of 
 beauty,  of  which  earth  has  probably  never  seen 
 the  equal ;  and  allied  to  him  as  woman  was  never 
 since  allied  to  man  ;  a  part  of  his  nature,  an  ac- 
 tual portion  of  himself,  corporeal  and  mental ; 
 divinely  affianced  to  him  by  a  bond  implying  a 
 complete  communion  in  every  sorrow,  as  well  as 
 joy,  of  his  existence  ? 
 
 The  narrative  is  also  perfectly  consistent  with  the 
 distinction  of  crime  arising  from  the  distinction  of 
 motive.  Both  criminals  are  alike  exiled,  and 
 alike  sentenced  to  the  struggle  with  a  sterile 
 world  ;  but  on  Eve,  as  the  more  presumptuous 
 offender,  is  inflicted  the  heavy  punishment  of 
 pain  in  her  child-bearing — an  exclusive  agony  ;  as 
 
 7 
 
THE    FALL.  1  55 
 
 if  the  production  of  that  offspring  whose  glory  may 
 have  been  among  her  strongest  inducements  to 
 dare  "to  be  as  gods,"  should  be  a  memorial  of 
 her  guilt  for  ever.  Her  rashness,  too,  in  relying 
 on  her  own  judgment,  and  thus  assuming  inde- 
 pendence of  her  husband,  seems  to  have  been 
 peculiarly  the  object  of  punishment,  in  the  decla- 
 ration that  "  he  should  rule  over  her."  St.  Paul 
 marks  distinctly,  as  a  ground  of  the  acknowledged 
 dependence  of  woman,  that  "Adam  was  not  the 
 first  deceived,  but  Eve  \" 
 
 '  1  Tim.  ii.  14. 
 
CHAPTER  VIII. 
 
 THE  TREE  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 This  subject  has,  like  all  the  rest,  perplexed  the 
 learning,  or  provoked  the  mysticism  of  interpreta- 
 tion ;  yet  on  no  topic  of  Scripture  has  there  been 
 a  more  remarkable  disregard  of  the  obvious  rules 
 of  inquiry.  By  some  commentators,  the  tree  has 
 been  pronounced  pregnant  with  all  science  ;  by 
 others  a  miraculous  means  of  invigorating  the 
 human  intellect;  by  others  a  poison,  naturally 
 extinguishing  life ;  by  others  a  sacrament,  or 
 visible  sign  of  some  influence,  to  be  developed  in 
 that  higher  world  of  which  Eden  itself  is  the  re- 
 presentative. 
 
 The  state  of  Adam  before  the  Fall  is  perfectly 
 conceivable,  as  affording  no  opportunity  for  prac- 
 tically learning  the  distinction  of  virtue  and  vice'. 
 
 ^  In  Scripture,  the  "  knowledge  of  good  and  evil"  is  univer- 
 sally a  knowledge  of  the  distinction  between  virtue  and  vice. 
 Thus,  "  Your  little  ones,  which  ye  said  should  become  a  prey, 
 and  your  children  which  in  that  day  had  no  knowledge  of  good 
 and  evil,  (infants,  too  young  to  know  the  difference,)  shall  go 
 
THE    TREE    OF    KNOWLEDGE.  157 
 
 His  nature  was  created  pure.  The  promptings  of 
 sin,  familiar  as  they  are  to  our  fallen  nature  al- 
 most from  the  dawn  of  the  human  powers,  could 
 not  have  been  spontaneously  generated  in  his 
 mind.  The  trial  of  his  moral  capacity  was  to 
 come ;  but  until  it  came,  and  by  an  external  influ- 
 ence, he  fell,  there  was  nothing  in  his  condition  to 
 invalidate  the  idea  that  his  will,  his  understand- 
 ing, and  his  senses,  existed  in  the  guileless  purity 
 that  is  unconscious  of  the  very  existence  of  sin. 
 
 The  moral  sense  had  existed  before  ;  for  it  was  to 
 this  sense  alone  that  the  command  to  abstain  from 
 the  tree  of  knowledge,  and  the  threat  of  penalty, 
 could  have  been  addressed.  But  it  was  the  first 
 act  of  disobedience  alone  that  taught  the  mind  the 
 practical  distinction  between  vice  and  virtue.  It 
 was  then  fearfully  felt  in  the  influx  of  remorse, 
 conscious  ingratitude,  and  the  terror  of  impending 
 
 in  thither,"  is  the  language  of  Moses  to  the  rebellious  Israelites 
 in  the  wilderness.  (Deut.  i.  30.)  Isaiah,  in  describing  the  inno- 
 cent ignorance  of  extreme  childhood,  says,  "  Before  the  child 
 shall  know  to  refuse  the  evil  and  choose  the  good,"  (before  he  is 
 capable  of  making  the  distinction,)  the  events  predicted  shall 
 appear.  St.  Paul  defines  the  more  experienced  among  the  con- 
 verts, as  "  those  who  have  their  senses  exercised  to  discern  both 
 good  and  evil."  (Heb.  v.  14.;  In  any  other  sense  the  expres- 
 sion is  inapplicable  to  Adam,  for  no  knowledge  of  good  was  gained 
 by  the  transgression  ;  the  only  knowledge  was  of  eri/.  Milton's 
 expression,  "  knowledge  of  evil  gained  and  good  lost,"  describes 
 the  fact ;  but  the  phrase  in  the  original  is  content  with  express- 
 ing the  distinction. 
 
158  THE    TREE    OF    KNOWLEDGE- 
 
 destruction.  The  contrast  and  the  pain  are  still, 
 in  a  qualified  degree,  constantly  occurring  among 
 mankind.  It  is  equally  consistent  with  human 
 experience,  that  the  pain  of  the  discovery  should 
 not  have  been  left  to  mere  reflection ;  but  that 
 the  crime  should,  in  some  measure,  ensure  its 
 own  punishment.  Thus,  the  eating  of  the  fruit  is 
 distinctly  declared  to  have  produced  a  real  change 
 in  human  sensation ;  which,  whether  a  sudden 
 sense  of  impetuous  blood,  or  a  general  fever  of 
 the  faculties,  or  an  agonizing  pang  of  conscience 
 and  shame,  was  felt  by  the  offenders  as  the  be- 
 ginning of  vengeance. 
 
 The  progress  of  the  narrative  sustains  the  same 
 consistency  with  common  nature.  The  first  act 
 of  the  criminal  is  generally  to  deny  all  conscious- 
 ness of  crime  ;  the  second,  to  throw  the  guilt  on 
 his  associates.  When  the  man  and  the  woman  are 
 summoned  before  the  Divine  Judge,  their  first 
 answer  is  an  equivocation — "  I  heard  thy  voice  in 
 the  garden,  and  was  afraid,  because  I  was  naked'." 
 
 '  It  has  been  conceived,  that  notwithstanding  the  guilt  of  the 
 first  crime,  it  advanced  the  criminals  to  a  more  beneficial  grade 
 of  moral  knowledge,  and  that  the  discovery  of  the  necessity  of 
 clothing  was  in  itself  a  proof  of  a  newly  acquired  sense  of  pro- 
 priety. But  against  this  stands  the  insurmountable  objection, 
 that  God  had  expressly  prohibited  the  act  from  which  those  ad- 
 vantages are  supposed  to  flow.  Doubtless  He  can  extract  good 
 from  evil  by  his  own  resistless  interference,  but  good  cannot  flow 
 from  evil  by  the  course  of  nature.  That  man,  by  his  crime, 
 acquired  an  accession  of  knowledge,  is  allowed  ;  for  every  act  of 
 
THE    TREE    OF    KNOWLEDGE.  159 
 
 On  the  detection  of  the  subterfuge,  all  other  feel- 
 ings are  lost  in  terror,  a  terror  probably  never 
 equalled  in  the  history  of  human  agony,  for  what 
 other  human  beings  ever  stood  in  the  visible  pre- 
 sence of  an  offended  God  ?  Adam  then  throws  his 
 guilt  on  Eve  ;  Eve  alike  throws  her  guilt  on  the 
 Tempter,  "  The  serpent  beguiled  me,  and  I  did 
 eat."  The  Tempter  is  not  questioned  ;  his  native 
 iniquity  is  already  known.  Sentence  is  passed 
 upon  him  first,  and  without  mitigation  ;  a  twofold 
 ruin.  In  his  animal  form  he  is  degraded  to  the 
 condition  of  a  reptile,  and  of  all  reptiles,  the  most 
 abhorred  ;  in  his  spiritual  nature  he  is  destined  to 
 
 guilt,  as  every  act  of  human  life,  is  an  accession  of  knowledge, 
 however  ruinous.  The  man  who  proceeds  from  robbery  to  mur- 
 der adds  to  his  knowledge,  but  such  knowledge  is  not  an  addi- 
 tion to  his  moral  sensibility,  but  to  the  hardening  of  the  heart ; 
 not  a  benefit,  but  an  undoing. 
 
 It  has  been  already  shown  that  man  possessed  a  moral  sense 
 from  the  beginning,  implied  in  the  command  of  obedience  to  a 
 Divine  restriction.  The  propriety  of  clothing  for  concealment 
 was  suggested  by  a  sense  of  shame,  but  that  sense  of  shame  was 
 suggested  by  a  sense  of  sin  ;  its  non-adoption  in  the  earlier 
 state  of  Paradise  was  not  the  result  of  an  insensibility  to  the 
 dictates  or  delicacy  of  nature  ;  for  we  cannot  discover,  on  natural 
 principles,  why  any  one  portion  of  the  human  frame  should 
 more  require  concealment  than  another.  That  a  sense  of  the 
 fitness  of  concealment  now  exists  is  of  course  acknowledged,  but 
 it  is  a  sense  altogether  connected  with  the  results  of  the  original 
 transgression,  and  arguing  a  change  from  the  perfect  purity  of 
 our  first  nature. 
 
160  THE    TREE    OF    KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 be  overthrown  by  the  descendant  of  the  woman. 
 This  sentence  could  not  have  been  directed  to  a 
 mere  brute ; — because  it  is  declared  as  a  punish- 
 ment for  sin,  of  which  the  brute  nature  is  in- 
 capable— because  enmity  is  declared  to  subsist 
 between  the  offspring  of  the  woman  and  the  off- 
 spring of  the  serpent,  of  which  the  brute  nature 
 could  have  no  comprehension — and  because  the 
 tempter,  as  distinguished  from  his  offspring,  is  to 
 war  with  a  Being  whose  birth  was  still  distant 
 four  thousand  years :  a  circumstance  obviously 
 incompatible  with  animal  life. 
 
 All  the  characteristics  of  the  prediction  too,  are 
 evidently  pointed  so  as  to  baffle  and  mortify  the  pride 
 of  a  malignant  spiritual  adversary.  He  has  over- 
 come by  fraud,  he  is  to  be  overcome  by  fortitude, 
 not  to  be  beguiled,  but  to  be  crushed  in  open 
 combat ;  he  has  exulted  in  the  ruin  of  the  world, 
 he  is  to  be  destroyed  by  a  Being  bom  of  the  world  ; 
 he  has  made  woman  his  first  victim,  and  from 
 woman,  by  an  especial  and  exclusive  birth,  is  to 
 come  the  subverter  of  his  power. 
 
 The  severity  of  changing  the  serpent's  form, 
 was  nothing,  as  an  infliction  on  the  mere  brute. 
 From  all  that  we  can  discover  of  animal  sensation, 
 all  the  lower  animals  are  equally  happy.  They 
 have  the  full  measure  of  enjoyment  suited  to 
 their  condition.  The  serpent  creeping  in  the 
 dust,   is  probably  enjoying  all  the  happiness  that 
 
THE    TREE    OF    KNOWLEDGE.  161 
 
 it  can  conceive.  We  have  not  the  slightest 
 reason  to  doubt,  that  the  animal  mind  has  been 
 lowered  to  the  animal  form. 
 
 The  serpent  race  might  have  been  extinguished 
 at  the  moment  of  the  crime  ;  as  many  of  the  ante- 
 diluvian animals  unquestionably  have  been  in  the 
 Deluge ;  and  yet  it  might  be  of  signal  value  to  early, 
 and  to  all,  mankind,  that  so  striking  a  remem- 
 brancer of  that  crime,  and  so  striking  an  anticipa- 
 tion of  the  final  vanquisher  of  the  evil  one,  should 
 be  kept  in  existence ;  that  wherever,  in  field  or 
 forest,  the  tiller  of  the  ground  saw  a  serpent,  he 
 should  see,  in  the  degradation  of  a  creature, 
 once  of  such  intelligence,  gentleness,  and  beauty, 
 into  an  object  of  such  instinctive  loathing,  and 
 mortal  danger ;  a  living  evidence  of  the  guilt  by 
 which  Paradise  was  lost  to  man'. 
 
 '  Bishop  Horsley,  after  Warburton,  asks,  "  Why  did  not 
 Moses  say  at  once  that  the  serpent  was  Satan  ?"  and  answers, 
 that  he  suppressed  the  name  through  fear  of  encouraging  the 
 serpent  worship  then  prevalent  in  the  East.  But  this  is  rash 
 dealing  with  Scripture.  It  takes  for  granted  that  the  writer  of 
 the  Pentateuch  might  insert  or  suppress  whatever  fact  he  pleased. 
 In  other  words,  that  he  might  model  the  history  according  to  his 
 own  conceptions.     In  this  case  what  becomes  of  its  inspiration  ? 
 
 A  reason  will  be  given,  as  the  volume  advances,  why  the 
 serpent  alone  was  spoken  of — a  reason  referring  to  the  general 
 system  of  Revelation,  and  of  which  Moses  uninspired  could  have 
 known  nothing;  yet  the  close  adaptation  of  his  history  to 
 which,  shows  that  the  writer  must  have  been  a  passive  instru- 
 ment in  a  mightier  hand. 
 
 M 
 
CHAPTER  IX. 
 
 THE  TREE  OF  LIFE. 
 
 That  the  power  of  giving  perpetual  life  should  exist 
 in  the  fruit  of  a  tree  \  has  been  made  the  subject 
 of  violent  question.  Yet,  what  does  human  science 
 prove  to  the  contrary  ?  What  is  known  of  the  prin- 
 ciple of  life  ?  Nothing.  And  what  can  qualify  this 
 utter  ignorance,  to  decide  against  the  plain  decla- 
 ration of  the  record  ?  or,  are  we  not  daily  witnesses 
 of  powers  in  the  vegetable  world,  only  next  in 
 extent,  and  altogether  as  much  out  of  the  pale  of 
 human  explanation  ?  What  might  be  the  impres- 
 sions made  on  an  intelligent  observer  witnessing, 
 for  the  first  time,  the  action  of  some  of  the  simplest 
 products  of  the  earth  ? 
 
 Let  us  conceive  him  present  at  a  paroxysm 
 of    fever.      He    sees    an    agony  of  disease,    the 
 
 '  The  learned  Kennicott  labours  with  great  assiduity  to  escape 
 the  supposed  difficulties  of  the  "tree  of  life." — {Tivo  Disserta- 
 tions.) He  applies  the  name  to  the  whole  class  of  trees,  and 
 concludes  that  their  general  use  as  food,  was  the  source  of  the 
 name.  But  this  is  incompatible  with  the  fact  that  Adam  had  not 
 eaten  of  the  tree,  and  with  his  expulsion  to  prevent  his  eating  of 
 it.     The  conjecture  is  untenable. 
 
THE    TREE    OF    LIFE.  163 
 
 countenance  changed,  the  brain  bewildered,  the 
 frame  convulsed  by  preternatural  force  or  worn 
 by  mortal  exhaustion  ;  the  man  palpably  sink- 
 ing into  the  grave.— Then  comes  the  all  but 
 miracle  :  a  few  scrapings  of  the  rind  of  a  tree  are 
 poured  into  the  dying  lips,  and  the  disease  flies  ; 
 life  shoots  again  through  the  frame  ;  the  posses- 
 sion of  the  faculties,  the  vigour  of  nerve  and 
 muscle,  the  living  countenance,  the  composure 
 of  mind,  all  are  there  once  more  :  the  man  is 
 snatched  from  the  tomb  ! 
 
 Or  what  could  more  amply  justify  the  astonish- 
 ment of  such  a  spectator,  than  the  common  effects 
 of  the  vegetable  poisons  ?  Their  sudden  seizure 
 of  the  very  founts  of  life,  and  the  subtilty  and 
 diversity  of  that  seizure;  their  unaccountable 
 powers  of  alike  dissolving  and  stagnating;  of 
 scorching  and  chilling  ;  of  stimulating  and  numb- 
 ing ;  their  turning  the  blood  alternately  into  ice, 
 into  water,  into  flame  ! 
 
 Or,  passing  from  those  fierce  influences,  (which 
 yet,   in  a  more  advanced   stage  of  science,   will 
 probably  be  found  among  the  noblest  repellants 
 of  disease)  to  the  common  stimulants  ;  how  little 
 could  he  expect  to  find,  in  the  simple  and  singularly 
 nutritious  ear  of  corn,  powers  capable  of  subverting 
 every  habit,  feeling,  and  faculty  of  man;  of  in- 
 fatuating   the   wise,   inflaming   the   prudent,  and 
 degrading  the  whole  manliness  and  dignity  of  our 
 being  into  a  mass  of  profligate  imbecility. 
 M  2 
 
164  THE    TREE    OF    LIFE. 
 
 Or,  who  that  laid  the  seed-vessel  of  the  poppy 
 before  him,  could  be  heard,  without  a  strong  tinge 
 of  incredulity,  in  the  assertion;  that  this  weedy, 
 and  common  encumbrance  of  the  field  possessed 
 not  merely  the  most  singular  mastery  over  the 
 frame,  the  strangely  antagonist  powers  of  ani- 
 mating the  nerves,  and  chaining  them  up  in  total 
 insensibility,  of  soothing  disease  and  extinguish- 
 ing life  ;  but,  that  it  reached  the  finest  recesses  of 
 the  mind ;  alternately  startling  the  imagination 
 with  shapes  of  terror,  and  filling  the  sleeping  or 
 the  waking  dream  with  a  world  of  magnificent 
 fiction. 
 
 But  the  frame  which  resists  disease,  yields  to 
 time.  Old  age  comes ;  and  the  subject  of  all 
 those  influences  and  revivals  goes  down  to  the 
 grave.  Still,  the  powers  of  the  vegetable  world 
 are  not  yet  outstripped  ;  the  infusion  of  a  common 
 seed  arrests  nature,  even  in  that  process  in  which 
 she  is  deemed  most  irresistible  ;  says  to  decay, 
 "Thus  far  shalt  thou  go,  and  no  farther  !"  and 
 holds  every  limb,  feature,  and  fibre  of  the  dead,  in 
 the  completeness  of  the  living  form,  for  hundreds 
 or  for  thousands  of  years  ! 
 
 Habit  diminishes  only  unreasoning  wonder.  To 
 the  philosopher,  the  support  of  the  human  frame 
 by  food  for  a  day,  is  as  profound  a  problem  as  its 
 support  for  a  century,  or  for  ever ;  it  belongs  to 
 a  chemistry  which  evades  even  conjecture ;  and 
 leaves  him,  if  he  be  a  fool,  to  illume  his  vanity  by 
 
THE  TREE  OF  LIFE.  165 
 
 some  new  light  of  scepticism ;  or,  if  he  be  wise, 
 to  bow  down  with  new  reverence  before  the  ex- 
 haustless  wisdom  of  the  Lord  of  nature. 
 
 The  words  in  which  the  sentence  of  exile  was 
 passed,   appear  to  contain  a  mixture  of  that  lofty 
 scorn  '  which  was  due  to  baffled  pride  ;  and  of  that 
 compassionate  wisdom  which  is  a  characteristic  of 
 the  Deity.     "  Behold,  man  is  become  as  one  of 
 us,  to  know  good  and  evil,"  was  originally  the  lan- 
 guage, not  of  the  Deity,  but  of  the  tempter.     And 
 its  statement  by  the  Judge  mai/  not  imply  more 
 than   the   recapitulation   of  the    crime   from   the 
 tribunal ;  it  cannot  imply  that  man  had  actually 
 made  an  advance  towards  the  nature  of  the  God- 
 head, for  the  direct  result  was  the  actual  degra- 
 dation of  his  own.     The  sentence  seems  contemp- 
 tuous, alike  of  the  deceiver  and  of  the  deceived. — 
 Behold,  what  man  has  obtained  by  the  temptation 
 of  equalling  God  !    But  mercy  here  intervenes  ; 
 and,  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  a  new  evil  aris- 
 ing from   a   new  -exercise  of  his  arrogance  and 
 presumption,  he  is  to  be  removed  from  the  tree  of 
 immortality.     "And  now,  lest  he  put  forth  his 
 hand,  and  take  also  of  the  tree  of  life,  and  eat, 
 and  live  for  ever;"   ''therefore  God  sent  them 
 
 '  Glass.  Philylog.  Sac.  905. 
 
166 
 
 THE  TREE  OF  LIFE. 
 
 forth."  Those  words,  too,  decide  the  contested 
 question  whether,  if  Adam,  after  his  fall,  had 
 eaten  of  the  tree,  he  would  have  become  immortal. 
 For,  the  avoidance  of  this  result  is  the  declared  rea- 
 son of  his  immediate  exile.  It  distinctly  implies 
 that,  if  he  had  eaten,  he  must  have  lived  for  ever. 
 Yet  it  is  equally  clear,  that  his  removal  was  an 
 act  of  mercy.  In  his  fallen  state  an  exemption 
 from  the  grave  could  only  have  tremendously 
 increased  his  penalty.  How  ruinous,  for  exam- 
 ple, would  be  an  assurance  of  interminable  life,  in 
 our  own  vitiated  state  of  society  ?  For,  what  are 
 the  grand  checks  of  public  disorder  at  this  hour, 
 but  the  power  of  death  in  the  hands  of  justice,  and 
 the  power  of  death  in  the  hands  of  nature  ?  With- 
 out this  final  terror,  and  irresistible  removal,  law 
 could  do  little,  and  time  nothing.  Or  rather, 
 time  would  aggravate  the  disorder  ;  and  instead 
 of  rendering  the  crime  obsolete,  or  dissolving  the 
 criminal  into  dust ;  would  swell  the  weight  of 
 general  guilt  by  perpetual  accumulation,  and 
 harden  the  individual  aggressor  by  habit,  by  the 
 continued  indulgence  of  the  passions,  and  by  the 
 subtilty,  skill,  and  confidence,  learned  in  the  long 
 career  of  evil. 
 
 It  was  a  longevity,  amounting  in  its  own  rude 
 speculation,  almost  to  immortality,  which  raised 
 the  tide  of  ante-diluvian  vice  beyond  all  that  the 
 earth  has  since  seen.  The  life  of  a  thousand  years 
 equally  accounts  for  the  character  of  the  corrup- 
 
 1 
 
THE  TREE  OF  LIFE,  167 
 
 tion.  The  earth  was  filled  with  violence,  the 
 natural  result  of  savage  strength  and  headlong 
 passion,  untamed  by  the  fear,  and  unextinguished 
 by  the  operation,  of  the  grave.  Yet,  for  the 
 general  longevity  of  the  ante-diluvian  world,  a 
 beneficent  reason  existed,  in  its  absolute  import- 
 ance to  the  preservation  of  Divine  knowledge  in 
 the  line  of  Seth.  If  the  line  of  Cain  abused  this 
 provision  for  the  perpetuity  of  the  highest  gift  of 
 heaven ;  their  abuse  was  no  ground  for  abridging 
 its  uses  to  a  race,  with  whom  length  of  life  was 
 length  of  wisdom.  But,  to  shorten  the  existence 
 of  one  portion  of  mankind,  while  the  other  con- 
 tinued in  the  possession  of  its  original  period,  could 
 have  been  the  work  only  of  miracle  ;  and  of 
 miracle  interposed  merely  for  the  protection  of  a 
 race  of  criminals,  against  the  consequences  of  their 
 own  iniquity. 
 
 Yet  this  length  of  life  was  found  to  be  fatal, 
 even  to  the  virtue  of  the  chosen  line.  The  Seth- 
 ites  gradually  sank  into  apostasy.  One  extraordi- 
 nary eftbrt  of  the  Divine  mercy  was  then  levelled 
 directly  at  the  source  of  the  evil.  The  duration 
 of  the  living  world  was  openly  limited  to  a  hundred 
 and  twenty  years.  But  whatever  might  have 
 been  the  immediate  effect  of  this  menace,  it  evi- 
 dently did  not  long  prevent  the  multitude  from 
 pursuing  their  habitual  career.  The  true  worsliip- 
 pers  were  finally  reduced  to  the  single  family  of 
 the  patriarch  ;    and  the  deluge  was  the  last  and 
 
168  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE. 
 
 terrible  expedient  against  the  corruptions  of  ex- 
 cessive longevity. 
 
 Still,  the  guilt  or  sufferings  of  the  ante-diluvian 
 world  do  not  include  the  whole  operation  of  the 
 evil.  The  longest  life  there  was  determinate  by 
 the  course  of  nature  ;  and  its  worst  consequence, 
 universal  crime,  was  finally  within  the  remedy  of 
 universal  death.  But  what  must  be  the  supremacy 
 of  guilt  and  suffering,  if  death  were  impossible  ? 
 The  deepest  conceptions  of  horror  cannot  surpass 
 the  natural  effects  of  this  privilege  of  ruin.  The 
 elder  generations  would  have  rapidly  constituted 
 so  irresistible  a  majority;  that  their  habits  of  igno- 
 rance, and  indulgence,  of  ferocity  and  vice,  must 
 have  totally  and  perpetually  predominated  over 
 all  beneficial  change.  All  those  hopes  of  improve- 
 ment which  rise  with  the  rising  age,  must  have 
 been  strangled  in  their  birth  by  prejudices  fixed 
 by  the  obstinacy  of  years,  and  sustained  at  once 
 by  the  weight  of  authority,  and  the  force  of  mul- 
 titude. Even  the  saliency  of  youth,  in  this  uni- 
 versal corruption,  would  discover  itself  only  in 
 more  extravagant  excess.  All  would  be  one 
 vast  conspiracy  against  human  happiness  and  the 
 laws  of  Heaven. 
 
 But,  one  shape  of  physical  evil,  before  which  all 
 others  arc  phantoms,  must  have  at  length  added 
 horror  to  horror.  A  world  in  whicii  none  died, 
 and  into  w^hich  millions  were  constantly  born, 
 must  soon  overflow  with  life.     Every  year  must 
 
THE  TREE  OF  LIFE.  169 
 
 have  seen  the  human  race  crushed  more  and  more 
 against  its  boundaries  ;  until  mankind  was  con- 
 densed into  one  mass  of  furious  and  famishing  exist- 
 ence. The  whole  business  of  life  must  then  become 
 war  for  food.  The  world  must  be  covered  with  un- 
 satisfying rapine  and  fruitless  bloodshed  ;  all  the 
 thoughts  and  means  of  man  turned  to  the  mere 
 satisfying  of  hunger  ;  reason  extinguished  in  the 
 tortures  of  brute  appetite ;  the  keenest  agony  of 
 the  necessities  inflamed  by  the  wildest  frenzy  of 
 the  passions  ;  earth  an  anticipated  hell ! 
 
 It  has  been  asked,  why  had  not  Adam  eaten  of 
 the  tree  of  life  during  his  early  habitancy  in  the 
 garden;  as  the  tree  of  knowledge  alone  was  pro- 
 hibited. It  may  be  fairly  answered,  that  the  tree 
 of  life  being  given  only  as  an  antidote  to  death, 
 and  death  being  only  the  result  of  sin,  Adam, 
 in  the  first  glow  of  life,  sinless,  and  even  uncon- 
 scious of  the  existence  of  sin,  would  no  more  have 
 thought  of  securing  himself  against  its  conse- 
 quences, than  a  man  of  perfect  virtue,  if  such 
 were  now  to  be  found,  would  think  of  providing 
 against  public  execution,  or  a  man  in  the  full 
 vigour  of  health,  of  swallowing  a  specific  against 
 disease. 
 
 The  first  pair  were  now  to  be  exiled  from  Para- 
 dise,     "  Lest  the  man  put  fortli  his  hand  and  eat 
 
170  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE. 
 
 and  live  for  ever,  therefore  the  Lord  God  sent  him 
 forth  from  the  garden  of  Eden'."  The  literal 
 narrative  is  more  consistent  than  all  the  glosses. 
 To  prevent  the  presumptuous  seizure  of  immor- 
 tality, there  was  the  choice  of  two  expedients — 
 the  immediate  extinction  of  the  powers  of  the  tree ; 
 or  the  immediate  removal  of  the  criminals.  But 
 the  former  would  have  been  an  interference  with 
 Nature — a  miracle,  which  is  never  adopted  with- 
 out necessity.  The  latter  was  the  simpler  act, 
 and  it  was  the  act  done.  No  new  process  of  decay 
 is  thenceforth  announced.  The  human  frame, 
 deprived  of  the  divine  antidote,  follows  the  law  of 
 all  compounds  left  to  the  course  of  nature  ;  when 
 the  principle  of  their  union  is  withdrawn,  they 
 resolve  themselves  into  the  elements  of  which  they 
 are  made  :  '■'For  dust  thou  art,  and  unto  dust 
 thou  shalt  return  ^" 
 
 •  Gen.  iii.  22. 
 
 ^  If  the  history  of  the  fall  required  collateral  testimony,  it 
 might  be  largely  found  in  the  inspired  writers,  who  speak  always 
 in  the  same  full  acceptance  of  it,  as  a  statement  of  the  literal 
 fact.  Job,  in  defending  his  righteousness,  says,  "  If  I  covered  my 
 transgressions  as  Adam,  by  hiding  mine  iniquity."  (xxxi.  33.) 
 Isaiah  says,  "  The  Lord  shall  comfort  Zion.  He  will  comfort 
 ;dl  her  waste  places,  and  he  will  make  her  wilderness  like  Eden, 
 and  her  desert  like  the  garden  of  the  Lord."  (li.  3.)  Ezekiel,  so 
 much  of  whose  prophecies  is  devoted  to  the  restoration  of 
 Judah,  frequently  refers  to  Paradise.  "  Thou  hast  been  in 
 Eden,  the  garden   of  God."    (xxviii.  13.)     "All  the  trees  of 
 
THE  TREE  OF  LIFE.  171 
 
 There   are    some    peculiarities    in    the  present 
 state   of  human   nature,  which  strongly  refer  to 
 
 Eden  that  were  in  the  garden  of  God  envied  him."  (xxxi.  9.) 
 "  The  land  that  was  desolate  is  become  like  the  garden  of 
 Eden."  (xxxvi.  35.)  Joel,  in  the  well-known  and  magnificent 
 description  of  the  career  of  the  invading  army,  strengthens  his 
 highest  contrast  of  beauty  and  desolation  by  its  memory  :  "  The 
 land  is  as  the  garden  of  Eden  before  them,  and  behind  them  as 
 a  howling  wilderness."  (ii.  3). 
 
 The  tree  of  life  is  no  less  an  object  of  frequent  reference. 
 "  The  fiiiit  of  the  righteous  is  a  tree  of  life.  When  the 
 desire  cometh,  it  is  a  tree  of  life."  (Prov.  xi.  &c.)  And 
 in  the  Apocalypse,  the  greatest  of  all  the  prophecies,  and  which 
 contains  the  fates  of  the  final  ages,  it  is  declared,  "  To  him  that 
 overcometh  will  I  give  to  eat  of  the  tree  of  life,  which  is  in  the 
 midst  of  the  Paradise  of  God."  (Rev.  ii.  7.)  "  In  the  midst  of 
 the  street  of  it,  and  of  either  side  of  the  river,  was  there  the  tree 
 of  life."  (xxii.  2.)  The  general  allusions  to  the  history  are  also 
 of  the  most  decisive  order.  Our  Lord,  in  renewing  the  original 
 validity  of  marriage,  says,  "  Have  ye  not  read,  that  he  which 
 made  them  in  the  beginning  made  them  male  and  female  ;  for 
 this  cause  shall  a  man  leave  his  father  and  mother,  and  cleave 
 to  his  wife,  and  they  twain  shall  be  one  flesh."  (Matt.  xix. 
 4,  5.)  St.  Paul  repeatedly  alludes  to  the  history.  "  The  God 
 of  peace  shall  bruise  Satan  under  your  feet  shortly."  Rom.  xvi. 
 20.)  "As  the  children  are  partakers  of  flesh  and  blood,  he  also 
 himself  took  part  of  the  same,  that  through  death  he  might  de- 
 stroy him  that  hath  the  power  of  death,  that  is  the  devil." 
 (Heb.  ii.  14.)  "  He  that  committeth  sin  is  of  the  devil ;  for 
 the  devil  sinneth  from  the  beginning  :  the  Son  of  God  was  mani- 
 fested for  this  purpose,  that  he  might  destroy  the  works  of  the 
 devil."  (1  John  iii.  8.)  '•  In  this  the  children  of  God  are  mani- 
 fest, and  the  children  of  the  devil :  whosoever  doeth  not  righte- 
 ousness is  not  of  God."  (10)  :  with  many  others. 
 
172  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE. 
 
 the  original  fall,  and  which  are  to  be  accounted 
 for  on  no  other  grounds. 
 
 Man  is  the  only  animal  which  obtains  a  sub- 
 sistence, often  a  difficult  and  scanty  one,  by  the 
 labour  of  the  ground ;  the  only  animal  to  whom  toil 
 is  necessary — a  fact  altogether  the  reverse  of  what 
 might  have  been  expected  from  his  natural 
 superiority  over  the  brute,  and  from  the  range 
 open  to  his  intellectual  powers. 
 
 Woman  is  the  only  female  which  undergoes 
 severe  pain  in  parturition — a  circumstance  con- 
 trary to  the  whole  analogy  of  nature,  which  re- 
 serves pain  for  accidental  injuries  or  violations  of 
 its  order. 
 
 Woman  is  the  only  female  subject  to  the  autho- 
 rity of  her  fellow-creature — a  submission  which 
 once  nearly  amounted  to  slavery,  but  in  which 
 Christianity  has  extinguished  the  old  inequality, 
 while  it  has  left  the  dependence. 
 
 The  connection  of  clothing  with  the  avoidance 
 of  shame,  is  inexplicable  but  by  the  Mosaic  his- 
 tory. No  nation,  however  savage,  or  dwelling  in 
 climates  whose  heat  might  seem  to  interdict  all 
 clothing,  has  been  found,  which  does  not  adopt  a 
 certain  degree  of  clothing,  and  that  from  an  ac- 
 knowledged sense  of  shame.  This  is  not  to  be 
 accounted  for  on  any  natural  principle. 
 
CHAPTER  X. 
 
 THE  FLAME  OF  THE  CHERUBIM. 
 
 Under  the  sentence  of  expulsion,  our  first  parents 
 were  now  sent  into  the  wilderness.  The  gentle 
 occupation  of  their  former  lives,  the  dressing  and 
 keeping  the  trees  of  Paradise,  was  to  be  exchanged 
 for  the  severe  labours  of  the  field.  The  sponta- 
 neous luxuriance  of  the  garden  was  to  be  fol- 
 lowed by  the  harsh  and  scanty  produce  wrung  by 
 the  sweat  of  the  brow  from  a  soil  cursed  with 
 sterility.  This  signal  change  must  have  been  felt 
 as  strong  evidence  of  the  Divine  displeasure;  and 
 yet  it  may  have  been  but  a  new  form  of  the 
 Divine  mercy.  Man  had  placed  himself  under 
 circumstances  which  rendered  a  continual  sense 
 of  his  crime  essential  to  his  restoration.  He  was 
 sent  "  to  till  the  ground  from  which  he  was 
 taken" — language  which  seems  to  imply  that 
 the  moral  of  his  death  was  to  be  impressed  on 
 him  by  the  constant  occupation  of  his  existence. 
 But  labour  had  also  become  the  safest  guardian 
 of  his  intelligence,  his  hope,  and  his  virtue. 
 
174  THE  FLAME  OF  THE  CHERUBIM. 
 
 In  all  lands  where  the  earth  throws  out  unso- 
 licited abundance,  the  powers  and  principles  of 
 the  human  mind  either  stagnate  or  take  fire ;  life 
 fluctuates  between  gross  indulgence  and  dreary 
 inaction,  and  man  degenerates  into  the  savage. 
 
 If  it  be  objected  that  this  evil  was  to  have  been 
 equally  dreaded  in  the  spontaneous  fertility  of 
 Paradise,  the  sufficient  answer  is ;  that  the  neces- 
 sity for  labour  arose  from  the  necessity  for  disci- 
 pline, and  that  necessity  from  sin. — That,  if  to  a 
 being  of  unclouded  reason  and  unperverted  pas- 
 sions, occupation  could  be  important  as  the  sus- 
 tenance of  virtue  ;  the  activity  of  the  mind  might 
 supply  occupation,  of  a  much  more  animating  and 
 more  exalted  order  than  the  labour  of  the  hands ; 
 and  that,  with  God  for  his  visible  guide,  angels  for 
 his  companions,  and  the  wonders  of  the  spiritual 
 world  throwing  their  light  on  the  wonders  of  the 
 material,  full  and  matchless  employment  lay 
 before  the  faculties  of  man. 
 
 But  he  was  not  left  to  this  gradual  lesson.  A 
 direct  interposition — a  visible  and  perpetual  testi- 
 mony of  his  early  happiness,  his  fall,  and  his  ex- 
 pulsion ;  the  fiery  pillar,  that  in  after  ages  was 
 to  burn  above  the  march  of  Israel ;  the  glory,  that 
 was  to  shine  between  the  cherubim  of  the  Temple, 
 now  covered  the  gate  of  Paradise ;  an  unap- 
 proachable flame,  "  to  keep  the  way  to  the  tree  of 
 life."  Yet,  fearful  as  this  emblem  was,  it  bore  the 
 characteristic   of  all    the    Divine   interpositions : 
 
THE  FLAME  OF  THE  CHERUBIM.  175 
 
 under  the  semblance  of  terror  it  was  mercy.     The 
 seizure  of  premature  immortality  by  man  might 
 obviously  have  been  precluded  in  various  ways. 
 The  tree  of  life  might  have  been  withered,  as  the 
 fig-tree   was   at  the  gates  of  Jerusalem;  or  the 
 garden  might  have  perished  by  the  natural  results 
 of  neglect  within  the  generation ;   or  both  might 
 have  been  stricken  with  the  common  sterility  of 
 the  world.     But    thus  man    would   have    lost   a 
 memorial,  of  the  highest  value   to  his  survi vino- 
 virtue.     In  ages  of  rudeness,  with  the  daily  labour 
 for  the  daily  bread  forcing  all  the  faculties  into 
 the  direction  of  the  wants,  appeals  to  the  senses 
 must  be  the  chief  mode  of  impressing  the  heart. 
 If  the  first  man,  even  in   the  long  lapse   of  his 
 almost  thousand  years,  with  the  perpetual  anxie- 
 ties of  life,   and  the  growing  infirmities  of  age 
 clouding  his  perception,  was  to  be  supposed  inca- 
 pable of  ever  forgetting  his  early  happiness  and 
 fatal  fall ;  still,  to  his  descendants  all  must  have 
 come  with   the  increasing  weakness  of  tradition. 
 But  in  front   of  Paradise  flamed    the   perpetual 
 attestation  of  his  history.      With  what  irresistible 
 impression  must  he  not  have  told  that  history,  as 
 he  pointed  to  the  "  eastern  gate,"  which  neither 
 the  power  of  man  could  force,  nor  even  the  auda- 
 city of  man  dare  to  come  nigh.     How  perfectly 
 natural  is  it  to  conceive  the  mingling  sorrow  and 
 holy  hope  which  might  have  filled  those  genera- 
 tions of  exile,  when  on  their  sabbaths  they  gathered 
 
176  THE  FLAME  OF  THE  CHERUBIM. 
 
 round  their  patriarchal  king,  and  heard  his  lips, 
 weary  with  years,  yet  exulting  in  the  triumph 
 over  the  grave,  speak  of  that  place  of  glorious 
 beauty  which  still  existed  within  the  impassable 
 barrier  before  them  ?  What  eye  of  unbelief  could 
 resist  the  testimony  of  the  angry  splendour,  the 
 sword  of  fire,  that  visibly  guarded  the  path  to 
 immortality  ?  Or  what  sullenness  of  heart  could 
 refuse  to  share  in  the  joy,  that  their  exile  was  at 
 length  to  terminate,  and  that  a  more  than 
 angelic  hand  was  to  throw  open  the  gates  of 
 a  Paradise,  to  which  all  before  them  was  but  a 
 dream. 
 
 It  is  an  additional  proof  of  the  purpose  of  this 
 testimonial,  of  its  continuance,  and  of  the  conse- 
 quent existence  of  the  garden  of  Eden  after  the 
 fall ;  that  when  Cain  was  sentenced,  the  imme- 
 diate act  of  his  Judge  was  to  drive  him  from  the 
 sight  of  Paradise.  He  was  driven  out  from  "  the 
 presence  of  the  Lord,"  (an  expression  which  can 
 only  mean  a  local  glory,)  Providence  withdraw- 
 ing the  means  of  o:race  from  those  who  have  aban- 
 doned  the  will.  It  is  equally  observable,  that  the 
 Sethite  line  continued  pure  until  they  successively 
 left  that  presence  ;  for  their  departure  appears  to 
 be  distinctly  implied  in  their  intercourse  with  the 
 race  of  Cain  ;  there  being  no  reason  to  suppose 
 that  the  prohibition  of  approaching  Eden  laid 
 upon  Cain  as  the  first  murderer,  would  be  re- 
 laxed to  the  race  of  infidelity  and  bloodshed  which 
 
THE  FLAME  OF  THE  CHERUBIM.  177 
 
 followed  him.  It  is  clear  that  it  was  the  Divine 
 purpose  to  keep  the  race  of  Seth  separate.  It  is 
 equally  clear,  that  this  separation  was  long  com- 
 plete ;  and  that  its  cessation  was  not  the  work  of 
 violence,  but  originated  on  the  part  of  the  Seth- 
 ites.  This  change  involved  the  abandonment  of 
 the  "presence  of  the  Lord."  But,  the  visible 
 memorial,  the  great  direct  check  of  evil,  being- 
 no  longer  before  their  eyes,  they  fell  into  rapid 
 degeneracy ;  until  the  family  of  Noah  alone  re- 
 mained pure,  and  the  world  was  ripe  for  ruin. 
 
 The  jarring  conjectures  of  the  most  distin- 
 guished names  of  theology  on  this  subject,  might 
 supply  a  new  caution  against  straying  beyond  the 
 literal  sense  of  Scripture.  Lactantius  explains 
 the  cherubim  guard  by  a  constant  succession  of 
 thunder-storms  ! — a  phenomenon  which  must 
 have  rendered  the  surrounding  country  unfit 
 for  the  habitation  of  man,  driven  the  descend- 
 ants of  the  chosen  line  to  seek  some  less  in- 
 clement region,  extinguished  the  worship  evi- 
 dently solemnized  within  sight  of  Paradise,  and 
 after  all  been  liable  to  be  regarded  as  scarcely 
 beyond  the  natural  effect  of  a  mountain  atmo- 
 sphere. Nor  can  we  conceive  that  mere  thunder- 
 storms could  repel  the  perpetual  efforts  of  man- 
 kind, urged  by  so  intense  a  motive  as  the  posses- 
 sion  of  immortality '.     TertuUian   imagines    the 
 
 '  Institutioiies,  1.  2.  c.  12. 
 
 N 
 
178       THE  FLAME  OF  THE  CHERUBIM. 
 
 fire  of  the  cherubim  to  be  simply  expressive 
 of  climate ;  and  explains  it  by  the  ardours  of 
 the  Torrid  Zone\  This  theory  of  climate  is 
 evidently  a  favourite  one,  and  probably  origi- 
 nated in  the  Rabbinical  fables,  which  possessed 
 an  unaccountable  weight  in  the  earlier  ages  of 
 interpretation.  Theodore  of  Heraclea  pronounces 
 the  cherubim  to  be  luild  beasts  of  some  nonde- 
 script but  peculiarly  formidable  kind  ^.  Grotius, 
 a  man  of  vigorous  acquirement,  yet  adopts  the 
 tone  which  has  so  unhappily  characterized  con- 
 tinental interpretation  in  later  times,  lowers  the 
 miracle  to  a  familiar  event,  and  explains  the 
 fiery  barrier  of  Paradise  by  the  blaze  of  a  spring 
 of  bitumen.  Le  Clerc,  shrinking  from  this  sum- 
 mary humiliation  of  a  declared  work  of  Divine 
 power,  conceives  that  he  restores  its  dignity  by 
 saying,  that  though  the  material  was  bitumen, 
 the  blaze  was  kindled  by  angels  ! 
 
 More  recent  authorities  are  equally  fantastic. 
 The  Hutchinsonian  school  imagine  the  entire  state- 
 ment to  mean  no  more  than  that  the  Deity  formed 
 a  tabernacle  with  carved  figures  and  a  glory  at 
 the  gate,  which  being  embarked  by  Noah  in  the 
 ark,  was  afterwards  carefully  deposited  in  the 
 Jewish  Temple  !  Thus  is  fabricated  the  history. 
 The  interpretation,  equally  solid,  is,  that  the 
 Cherubim   are   the   representatives    of  the    Holy 
 
 '  Apolog.  c.  47.  *  Salkeld,  of  Angels. 
 
THE    FLAME    OF    THE    CHERUBIM.  179 
 
 Trinity  ;  and  the  fiery  sword  expresses  the  Atone- 
 ment ^  By  later  opinions,  the  emblem  is  still 
 further  changed.  Instead  of  being  an  object  of 
 terror,  to  render  the  tree  of  life  inaccessible  to 
 man,  it  is  represented  as  meant  to  "  inspire  him 
 with  hope ;  to  state  to  him  that  Divine  mercy 
 was  vouchsafed ;  and  to  constitute  an  emblem  of 
 the  Covenant  of  Grace,  in  which  the  Three  Per- 
 sons of  the  Trinity  are  engaged^" 
 
 To  this  strange  variety  of  explanation,  there  is 
 one  answer, — that  the  entire  statement  of  the 
 history  is  simply,  that  angels  and  a  perpetual 
 flame  were  placed  so  as  to  prohibit  all  entrance 
 into  Paradise.  And  by  what  inferior  means  was 
 man  to  be  restrained  from  forcing  his  way  within 
 its  gates  once  more  ?  No  merely  natural  obstacle 
 could  have  accomplished  this  object.  What  wall 
 of  adamant  would  not  have  been  worn  away  by 
 the  continued  assault  of  mankind  ?  What  torrent 
 would  not  have  been  crossed  ?  What  circumval- 
 lation  of  mountains  would  not  have  been  climbed  ? 
 Pestilence,  it  is  true,  might  have  rendered  ap- 
 proach fatal ;  but  it  also  might  have  spread  havoc 
 
 '  Parkhurst,  Lex.  on  the  word  21^     Brown's  Antiq.  Jews. 
 
 '  Why  instruments  of  palpable  terror  should  have  been  the 
 only  device  for  administering  consolation,  if  that  were  the  pur- 
 pose ;  or  why  the  fourfold  faces  of  the  cherubs  should  be  em- 
 blematic of  the  Three  Persons  of  the  Godhead  ;  or  why  antj 
 visible  image  of  the  Deity,  whether  angelic  or  graven,  should  be 
 allowed,  are  questions  which  this  theory  ought  first  to  answer. 
 
 N  2 
 
180  THE    FLAME    OF    THE    CHERUBIM. 
 
 through  the  surrounding  region ;  and,  under  all 
 aspects,  an  effect  so  common  as  unhealthiness  of 
 soil,  would  have  been  a  totally  inadequate  mode  of 
 conveying  an  impression  of  the  direct  will  and  work 
 of  Heaven.  The  theory  that  the  Cherubim  were 
 displayed  as  a  source  of  hope,  is  altogether  un- 
 sustained  by  the  text.  They  are  there  declared 
 to  have  been  placed  "  to  keep  the  way  to  the 
 tree  of  life," — a  way  open  only  in  the  period  of 
 innocence,  and  shut  as  the  result  of  crime.  The 
 prohibition  was  enforced  by  the  acknowledged 
 instruments  of  human  terror, — the  sword  and  the 
 flame. 
 
 The  German  rationalists  abound  in  presump- 
 tuous interpretation  on  this  subject.  Herder, 
 whose  folly  may  be  taken  as  their  general  repre- 
 sentative, pronounces, — that  there  prohabli/  was  a 
 mountain  which  shut  up  the  entrance  of  Para- 
 dise ;  that  this  mountain  was  probably  full  of  wild 
 beasts  ;  that  it  was  probably  also  the  scene  of 
 frequent  thunder-storms ;  that  it  probably  also 
 exhibited  subterranean  fires ;  and  that  probably 
 the  original  inhabitants  of  the  neighbouring  re- 
 gions moulded  and  magnified  all  the  phenomena 
 together  into  angelic  monsters  ^  On  this  system 
 of  probabilities,  any  absurdity  that  ever  entered 
 into  the  head  of  man  might  be  probable.  Rosen- 
 mtdler  is  satisfied  that  the  burning  of  the  Naphtha 
 
 '  Oriental  Dialogues. 
 
THE  FLAME  OF  THE  CHERUBIM.       181 
 
 wells,    in   Babylonia,  is  the  true  solution'  !     He 
 omits  to  prove  that  the  site  of  Paradise  was  in  the 
 plain  of  Babylon.     He  equally  omits  to  tell  us  by 
 what  well  of  Naphtha  was  fed  the  fiery  pillar  in 
 the  Wilderness,  or  the  blaze  that  filled  the  Temple 
 at  the  dedication.     But  how  much  more  conform- 
 able to  the  spirit  of  this  great  transaction  is  the 
 literal  statement  of  the  historian  ?    Human  inven- 
 tion, with  all  its  petty  dexterity,  can  find  no  sub- 
 stitute  for  the   column   of  prohibitory  splendour, 
 the  shekinah,  the  emblem  of  the  Divine  grandeur 
 and  terror,  flaming,  day  and  night,  up  to  heaven  ; 
 and  perhaps    displaying,    from   the  midst  of  its 
 blaze,  the  movements  and  forms  assumed  by  those 
 mighty   beings  who,    in  the  service   of  Heaven, 
 unite  the  rapidity  of  the  whirlwind  with  the  vivid- 
 ness of  the  flame. 
 
 ^  Scholia  in  Genesin. 
 
CHAPTER    XL 
 
 THE  ELOHIM. 
 
 The  use  of  the  plural,  a\"!'?K,  to  express  the  God- 
 head, deserves  to  take  its  place  among  the  Scrip- 
 tural arguments  for  a  plurality  of  Persons  in  the 
 Divine  Nature.  This  plural  is  used  no  less  than 
 two  thousand  five  hundred  times  in  Scripture  ; — 
 and,  almost  in  every  example,  with  reference  to 
 Jehovah  ^  The  word  is  used  in  the  singular  only 
 about  sixty  times.  Without  entering  into  the 
 prolix  dissertations  in  which  philology  has  in- 
 dulged on  the  subject,  the  question  may  be 
 summed  up  in  the  twofold  observation  :  that  the 
 use  of  the  plural  for  the  individual  is  not  an  idiom 
 of  the  Hebrew ;  and  that  the  strong  objections 
 arising  from  the  nature  of  Judaeism  to  the  use  of 
 a  plural  appellative  of  Deity,  could  have  given 
 way  onl}^  to  the  stronger  reason,  that  the  plurality 
 of  Persons  existed. 
 
 In  the  first  verse  of  Genesis,  it  is  declared  that 
 
 '  Simon.  Lex;   Eickhorn,  p.  119. 
 
THE    ELOHIM.  183 
 
 the  Gods  {Elohwi)  created  heaven  and  earth, 
 the  verb  created  being  singtdar ;  and  this  is  the 
 usual  construction,  the  exceptions  being  compara- 
 tive!)^ few.  In  the  '26th  verse  we  have  the  words, 
 "  And  the  Gods  (Elohim)  said,  Let  us  make  man 
 in  our  image  ;"  language  which  naturally  implies 
 a  plurality,  combined  in  one  act.  The  assertions 
 on  the  contrary  side  are — 
 
 That  the  Deity  is  speaking  to  the  angels. — But 
 this  would  make  them  the  creators,  or  form  the 
 human  nature  after  the  angelic;  or  declare  the 
 angelic  and  the  Divine  the  same  :  not  one  of  the 
 three  suppositions  being  tenable. 
 
 That  the  historian  has  adopted  the  regal  style. 
 — But  this  is  not  the  style  of  the  kings  of  the  Old 
 Testament  :  and  the  words  are  not  those  of  the 
 historian,  but  expressly  of  the  Deity  ;  they  were 
 spoken  before  kings  existed  :  and  no  subsequent 
 use  of  the  style  can  account  for  the  expres- 
 sion, "  One  of  us,"  in  a  monarch  speaking  of  him- 
 self alone. 
 
 But  the  utter  improbability  of  the  gratuitous 
 use  of  the  plural  name,  under  the  circumstances 
 of  the  Jewish  dispensation,  has  never  received  an 
 answer.  The  great  Jewish  doctrine  was  the  Unity. 
 The  great  distinction  of  the  Jewish  ritual  was  the 
 worship  of  the  One  Godhead.  The  whole  cere- 
 monial law,  rigid  and  minute  as  it  is,  was  the 
 guardian  of  this  doctrine.  The.  first  command,  on 
 the  entrance  of  the  Israelites  into  Canaan  was,  an 
 
184  THE    ELOHIM. 
 
 unsparing  destruction  of  all  things  which  could 
 betray  them  into  the  native  polytheism.  Yet,  in 
 the  books  which  they  were  to  receive  as  the  direct 
 testimony  of  Heaven,  as  their  guides  and  conso- 
 lations, as  the  substance  of  their  law  and  the 
 promise  of  their  national  welfare,  they  found  the 
 constant  use  of  a  word,  which,  on  the  common 
 principles  of  language,  expressed  a  plurality  in 
 the  Supreme  Being.  For  the  use  of  this  word, 
 what  was  the  necessity  ?  Their  language  was  not 
 destitute  of  other  terms  to  express  Deity.  They 
 had  the  name  Jehovah ;  or,  if  this  w  ere  too  sacred 
 for  adoption  on  general  occasions,  they  might 
 have  used  the  singular  Eloah.  But  the  extreme 
 hazard  of  justifying  the  popular  tendency  to  the  wor- 
 ship of  a  plurality  of  Gods,  was  to  be  encountered, 
 and  for  nothing ;  and  this  too  in  a  religion  pre- 
 eminently scrupulous,  and  where  all  things,  even 
 to  the  fringe  of  a  priest's  garment,  were  regulated 
 by  an  express  ordinance  of  Heaven  ! 
 
 This  objection  was  so  perfectly  felt  by  the  Jews, 
 from  the  period  when  they  began  to  pervert  the 
 literal  meaning  of  Scripture ;  that  the  Rabbins  ^  in 
 
 *  The  perplexity  of  the  Jews  of  the  middle  ages  is  evinced  by 
 the  invention  of  the  following  trivial  and  presumptuous  fable. 
 Rabbi  Samuel  Bar  Nachman  said,  that  Moses,  when,  in  writing 
 the  Law,  he  was  come  to  the  place  where  he  was,  by  Divine 
 dictation,  to  write,  '  Let  us  make  man,'  paused,  and  replied  to 
 God,  '  Lord  of  the  world,  why  dost  thou  afford  an  occasion  for 
 error,  with  respect  to  thy  most  simple  Unity  V    But  the  Lord 
 
THE    ELOHIM.  185 
 
 consequence  established  it  as  a  rule  in  their  gram- 
 mars, that  in  all  instances  of  dominion  and  ho- 
 nour, the  plural  may  be  used  for  the  singular — a 
 rule  confessedly  naked  of  all  authority. 
 
 The  intent  of  the  triple  name  is  strongly  au- 
 thenticated by  its  application  to  the  triple  form  of 
 the  Divine  protection,  as  in  Numb.  vi.  22.  "  Je- 
 hovah spake  to  Moses,  saying.  Speak  to  Aaron 
 and  his  sons,  saying,  Thus  ye  shall  bless  the  chil- 
 dren of  Israel,  by  saying  to  them,  Jehovah  bless 
 thee  and  keep  thee  !  Jehovah  spread  the  light  of 
 his  presence  on  thee,  and  be  gracious  to  thee  ! 
 Jehovah  manifest  his  presence  to  thee,  and  grant 
 thee  peace.  So  shall  they  piit  my  name  upon  the 
 cMldrcn  of  Israel,  and  I  will  bless  them."  This 
 triplicity  of  office  corresponds  closely  to  the 
 Christian  benediction  of,  "The  love  of  God, 
 the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  fel- 
 lowship of  the  Holy  Spirit  ^"  It  is  also  strongly 
 similar  to  the  baptismal  form,  the  putting  the 
 name  of  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  upon  the  Christ- 
 ian. And  those  words  cannot  possibly  be  con- 
 sidered as  accidental,  or  in  mere  conformity  with 
 any  acquiescence  in  national  habits,  or,  in  any 
 sense,  as  the  mere  phraseology  of  man  :  they  are 
 the  direct  language  of  Deity,  delivered  by  inspir- 
 
 replied,  '  Moses,  write  thou  so :  and  he  who  desires  to  err,  let 
 him  err.'  "     ( BereshUh  Rabba.J 
 '  2  Cor.  xii.  14. 
 
186  THE    ELOHIM. 
 
 ation ;  and  so  likely  to  be  adopted  in  defence  of  a 
 polytheistic  tendency,  that  they  could  not  have 
 been  ventured  on  by  any  Jewish  writer,  acting  on 
 his  own  responsibility.  What  is  the  natural  con- 
 clusion, but  that  the  plural  is  used  only  because 
 it  is  true;  and  that  it  indicates  the  great  doctrine 
 by  which,  in  the  more  ample  revelation  of  Christi- 
 anity, we  are  commanded  to  worship  Father,  Son, 
 and  Spirit,  one  God,  as  the  author,  mediator,  and 
 sanctifier  of  human  salvation  '  ? 
 
 ^  Adonai  (''iTK),  Sovereign,  and  Shaddai  (yi"^),  all-sufficient, 
 are  said,  on  the  high  authorities  of  Drusius,  Eickhorn,  Gesenius, 
 &c.  to  be  plural.  The  argument  is  learnedly  and  effectively 
 carried  into  detail  in  Dr.  Smith's  "  Scripture  Testimonies  of  the 
 Messiah,"  vol.  i.  sec.  34. 
 
CHAPTER    XIT. 
 
 THE  ADAMITE  STATE. 
 
 The  state  of  mankind,  if  Adam  had  resisted  the 
 temptation,  can  now  be  only  matter  of  conjecture. 
 Yet  it  is  of  importance  to  show,  that  on  natural 
 principles  the  Divine  benevolence  was  amply- 
 justified  in  the  original  condition  of  human  na- 
 ture ;  and  that  the  change,  which  overthrew 
 Adam,  was  not  an  expedient  forced  by  any  in- 
 adequacy in  that  original  condition,  nor  by  any 
 narrowness  in  the  supply  of  natural  enjoyment. 
 The  topic  was  once  more  perilous  than  it  can  be 
 now.  There  are  now  no  fears  of  disturbing  the 
 old  Supralapsarian  and  Sublapsarian  controver- 
 sies ;  the  most  capacious  quarrel  upon  the  most 
 intangible  subject  that  ever  displayed  the  ani- 
 mosities of  the  meek,  or  the  follies  of  the  wise. 
 After  spreading  over  centuries,  it  is  to  be  pre- 
 sumed that  they  have  fulfilled  their  work  of 
 human  bitterness ;  and,  like  their  predecessors, 
 the  mysticisms  of  Persia  and  Egypt,  have  gone 
 down  to  that  grave,  from  which  there  is  no  return. 
 
188  THE    ADAMITE    STATE. 
 
 Of  the  happiness  of  the  world  to  come,  we  are 
 told,  that  it  shall  exceed  the  hiohest  imaoination 
 of  man.  Of  the  happiness  of  the  original  earth, 
 we  can  have  no  reason  to  doubt  that  it  would 
 have  equalled  the  highest  imagination  of  man. 
 If  life,  defaced  as  it  is,  still  offers  so  large  a  share 
 of  manly  and  moral  gratification  to  all  who  have 
 sense  and  virtue  enough  to  seek  it  where  it  may 
 be  found  ;  or,  if  the  surface  of  the  globe,  torn  and 
 stripped  as  it  is  by  the  wild  agencies  of  nature, 
 or  sterile  by  the  neglect  of  man,  still  exhibits 
 scenes  of  grandeur  and  beauty — what  an  ample 
 provision  of  delight  must  have  existed  in  its 
 primal  loveliness  and  luxuriance  ?  What  a  still 
 ampler  provision  must  have  existed,  in  the  fa- 
 culties of  the  human  race  itself  ! — Man,  as  he 
 came  from  the  hand  of  Deity,  spreading  life 
 through  the  earth,  in  forms  of  the  finest  order 
 of  beauty,  and  minds  unshaded  by  disease,  decay, 
 or  crime.  All  the  humiliating  and  exhausting- 
 labours  of  existence  unknown  ;  the  soil  throwing 
 up  a  perpetual  banquet  to  senses  retained  in  their 
 highest  perception ;  the  dominion  of  man  over 
 nature  perpetually  advancing ;  and,  instead  of  the 
 inevitable  repulses  that  every  mind  in  its  turn 
 finds  in  the  infirmities  of  our  frame,  and  the 
 brevity  of  our  duration;  his  natural  thirst  of  know- 
 ledge, of  all  passions  the  most  absorbing,  sus- 
 tained by  the  strength  of  an  imperishable  frame, 
 and  the  security  of  an  existence  inapproachable 
 
THE    ADAMITE    STATE,  ISO 
 
 by  the  grave.  What  limit  could  be  assignable  to 
 the  successes  of  the  philosopher,  following  his  fine 
 speculations  through  the  infinite  material  which 
 the  world  offers,  to  build  up  the  power  and  enjoy- 
 ments of  man  ?  What  new  means  of  binding  the 
 elements  in  his  chain,  of  giving  exuberance  to  the 
 soil,  of  multiplying  the  choicer  products  of  nature, 
 of  narrowing  the  distance  between  the  ends  of  the 
 earth,  of  making  the  sense  of  sound  administer  to 
 uses  as  general,  quick,  and  comprehensive  as  those 
 of  the  eye,  of  possessing  in  their  fulness  those  deeper 
 treasures  of  the  globe,  which  w^e  now  hazardously 
 and  scantily  bring  up  from  its  gulfs  and  caverns, 
 of  exploring  those  more  solemn  and  forbidden 
 depths  which  lie  below  the  earthquake  and  the 
 ocean,  and  probably  contain  countless  wonders, 
 of  urging  a  perpetual  circulation  of  wealth,  wis- 
 dom, law,  amity,  and  religion,  through  every 
 artery  and  vein  of  the  great  commonwealth,  till 
 mankind  had  but  one  feeling  and  one  interest,  and 
 every  nation  was  made  free  of  the  happiness  of  the 
 world. 
 
 Even  with  all  the  infirmities  of  man  and  earth, 
 what  a  contrast  would  be  offered  to  the  existing 
 state  of  both  by  the  simple  absence  of  war  ?  What 
 a  harvest  of  grandeur  and  loveliness  might  not  be 
 covering  the  face  of  the  globe  at  this  moment,  if 
 the  mountains  of  gold  and  torrents  of  blood,  flung 
 into  the  air  and  buried  in  the  earth  by  war,  had 
 been  devoted  during  the  last  four  thousand  years 
 
190  THE    ADAMITE    STATE. 
 
 to  the  embellishment  of  human  life  ! — What  vast 
 cities,  filled  with  every  object  of  curiosity  and 
 magnificence,  what  noble  communications,  what 
 stately  architecture,  what  majestic  monuments  to 
 the  great  leaders  and  benefactors  of  nations,  what 
 institutions  for  science,  what  profusion  of  the  works 
 of  genius,  what  perfection  of  the  picture  and  the 
 statue,  what  provinces  cultured  into  gardens,  what 
 taming  of  the  asperities  and  obstacles  of  nature, 
 what  laying  low  of  the  mountain,  what  raising  of 
 the  valley,  what  making  straight  the  great  general 
 highway  of  man  to  the  possession  of  all  the  good 
 that  fills  the  frame  of  the  world  ! 
 
CHAPTER  XIII. 
 
 CAIN  AND  ABEL. 
 
 It  is  natural  to  suppose  that  the  mhid  of  Eve, 
 when  she  was  about  to  become  a  mother,  must 
 have  strongly  reverted  to  that  high  declaration  by 
 which  the  offspring  of  the  woman  was  to  "  bruise 
 the  serpent's  head."  Her  very  pangs,  an  evident 
 proof  to  her  that  the  penalty  was  real,  might  have 
 strengthened  her  reliance  on  the  reality  of  the  pro- 
 mise ;  and  when  she  at  last  held  the  infant  in  her 
 arms,  it  is  not  less  evident,  from  her  use  of  the  Di- 
 vine name,  that  she  annexed  to  the  birth  some  feel- 
 ings above  the  simple  joy  of  the  mother; — "  I  have 
 gotten  a  man  from  the  Lordly     The  name,  too, 
 
 '  ^\>  a  prize,  a  possession  ;  HJp  acquisivit.  The  nature  of  Eve's 
 exclamation  has  been  strongly  disputed :  and  the  particle  JHM 
 has  been  argued  to  express  that  Jehovah  vpas  its  direct  object, 
 "I  have  gotten  a  man,  the  very  Jehovah."  It  will  be  admitted 
 that  this  use  of  the  particle  occurs  frequently  in  the  first  four 
 chapters  of  Genesis,  yet  it  seems  altogether  too  lofty  an  assump- 
 tion to  be  the  natural  language  of  Eve.  How  could  she,  in  her 
 state  of  exile,  or  in  any  state,  deem  herself  the  parent  of  a  being 
 
 7 
 
192  CAIN    AND    ABEL. 
 
 which  she  gave  the  first  born  is  one  of  triumph. 
 The  distinction  is  observable  in  the  birth  of  her 
 second  son  ;  there  was  then  no  triumph.  The 
 hopes  which,  in  her  ignorance  of  the  nature  of 
 infancy,  she  might  have  once  entertained,  had 
 then  been  chastised  by  the  experience  that  infancy 
 was  weakness;  and  weakness  (Abel)  was  the  name. 
 It  possibly  also  was  given  with  some  unconscious 
 reference  to  his  early  death. 
 
 On  the  arrival  of  the  brothers  at  manhood,  the 
 memorable  transaction  occurred,  which  directly 
 shaped  the  fate  of  the  primitive  world,  and  which 
 has  impressed  its  semblance  on  every  leading  por- 
 tion of  the  Providential  government  to  this  hour. 
 
 "  And  in  process  of  time'  it  came  to  pass,  that 
 Cain  brought  of  the  fruit  of  the  ground  an  offer- 
 ing to  the  Lord.  And  Abel,  he  also  brought  of 
 the  firstlings  of  his  flock,  and  of  the  fat  thereof. 
 And  the  Lord  had  respect  to  Abel  and  to  his  offer- 
 ing, but  unto  Cain  and  his   offering   he  had   not 
 
 already  in  existence,  and  that  being  Deity  ?  Nor  is  it  to  be  ac- 
 counted for  on  the  ground  of  prophecy.  Cain  was  not  in  any 
 sense  the  progenitor  of  the  Messiah.  The  translation  equally 
 conformable  with  the  original,  and  much  more  natural  to  the 
 circumstances  of  Eve,  is,  "  I  have  gotten  the  man  from  the 
 Lord."  She  knew,  that  of  her  the  promised  conqueror  was  to 
 be  born,  and  she  took  it  for  granted  that  he  was  now  given. 
 
 '  This  has  also  been  translated  "  at  the  certain  time — at  tlic 
 end  of  days;"  as  if  a  fixed  period  had  been  already  marked 
 for  the  ceremonial  of  sacrifice. 
 
CAIN    AND    ABEL.  193 
 
 respect ;  and  Cain  was  very  wroth,  and  his  coun- 
 tenance fell'." 
 
 As  the  principal  object  of  these  pages  is  to  mark 
 the  coincidence  of  the  various  dispensations  ;  the 
 subject  can  now  be  touched  on  only  so  far  as  to 
 show,  that  the  narrative,  taken  in  its  most  literal 
 sense,  retains  its  consistency  with  the  ways  of 
 Providence  among  men. 
 
 The  origin  of  sacrifice  must  be  looked  for  in 
 Scripture  alone.  No  human  conjecture  has  ever 
 yet  satisfactorily  accounted  for  the  first  offering  of 
 either  animals  or  fruits  to  an  invisible  Deity.  The 
 shepherd  or  the  husbandman  might  give  a  portion 
 of  his  produce  to  his  friend  or  master,  in  hospi- 
 tality or  homage ;  but  those  gifts  were  to  visible 
 beings,  and  visibly  accepted.  With  an  invisible 
 being,  the  connection  between  the  giver  and  the 
 receiver  is  totally  intercepted.  If  the  senses  are 
 to  be  the  standard,  the  offering  in  all  instances 
 must  seem  to  be  repelled.  For,  what  other  con- 
 clusion is  to  be  drawn  by  the  senses  ?  If  they  are 
 to  wait  for  a  visible  acceptance  by  the  Deity,  the 
 fruits  must  wither  and  the  fatlings  corrupt  upon 
 the  altar  ;  there  they  must  wait  for  ever.  It  is  true, 
 that  this  impression  respects  only  the  early  state 
 of  worship.  When  a  priesthood  was  once  recog- 
 nized, there  was  a  visible  object ;  and  offerings  for 
 the  service  of  the  temple  might  become  an  intelli- 
 
 '  Gen.  iv.  3. 
 O 
 
194  CAIN    AND    ABEL. 
 
 gible  form  of  gratitude  to  its  invisible  Lord.  But, 
 in  the  first  instance,  sacrifice  could  have  been 
 rationally  offered  only  in  obedience  to  a  Divine 
 authority. 
 
 The  period  of  the  first  performance  of  this  es- 
 sential rite  is  still  unascertained.  The  prevalent 
 opinion  finds  it  in  the  text^ — "  And  unto  Adam 
 and  his  wife  did  the  Lord  God  make  coats  of  skins, 
 and  he  clothed  them."  It  is  argued,  that  as  Adam 
 was  not  likely  to  have  been  clothed  in  the  skins  of 
 animals  which  died  by  the  course  of  nature,  and 
 as  he  had  not  yet  the  right  to  use  animals  for  food, 
 he  must  have  obtained  them  from  those  slain  hy 
 himself  for  sacrifice.  But,  to  this  hypothesis  there 
 is  the  one  resistless  objection,  that  it  is  totally 
 unauthorized  by  the  inspired  record  :  there  no 
 mention  is  made  of  either  Adam  as  a  sacrificer,  or 
 of  sacrifice  ;  God  alone  is  described  as  in  act,  and 
 his  only  act  is  that  of  clothing  the  two  criminals. 
 The  whole  passage  is  but  one  of  the  many,  in 
 which  a  rigid  adherence  to  the  text  is  the  way  of 
 safety.  The  literal  meaning  at  once  exalts  the 
 rite,  and  illustrates  its  purposes. 
 
 Adam  experiences  three  distinct  states.  The 
 first,  the  paradisaic  state,  innocence  "naked  and 
 not  ashamed,"   exposed,  yet  without  any  humi- 
 
 ^  Archbishop  Magee  hastily  says,  "  This  event,  which  gave 
 birth  to  the  estabhshment  of  the  rite,  seems  obviously  to  deter- 
 mine the  time  of  its  institution."  Vol.  ii.  198. — The  obviousness 
 is  not  so  clear. 
 
CAIN  AND  ABEL.  195 
 
 liating  sense  of  exposure.  The  second,  the  fallen 
 state,  guilt  detected  ;  painfully  conscious  of  per- 
 sonal exposure,  and  making  an  imperfect  effort  to 
 cover  itself.  The  third,  the  state  of  promise, 
 guilt  forgiven;  man's  nakedness  effectually  clothed 
 by  the  hand  of  Deity.  "  Covering"  is  the  con- 
 stant scriptural  image  for  shelter  from  the  punish- 
 ment of  sin ;  and  the  three  states  exactly  repre- 
 sent not  only  the  personal,  but  the  moi'ol  condition 
 of  the  first  man. — In  paradise  he  has  no  protection 
 from  the  Divine  wrath,  but  he  needs  none  :  he  is 
 pure. — In  his  hour  of  crime,  he  finds  the  fatal 
 difference  between  good  and  evil,  feels  that  he 
 requires  protection  from  the  eye  of  justice,  and 
 makes  an  ineffectual  effort  to  supply  that  protec- 
 tion by  his  own  means. — But  the  expedient  which 
 cannot  be  supplied  by  man,  is  finally  supplied 
 by  the  Divine  interposition.  God  clothes  him, 
 and  his  nakedness  is  the  source  of  anguish  and 
 terror  no  more. 
 
 The  contrast  of  the  materials  of  his  imperfect 
 and  perfect  clothing  is  equally  expressive.  Adam, 
 in  his  first  consciousness  of  having  provoked  the 
 Divine  displeasure,  covers  himself  with  the  frail 
 produce  of  the  ground,  the  branch  and  leaf;  but, 
 from  the  period  of  forgiveness,  he  is  clothed  with 
 the  substantial  produce  of  the  flock,  the  skin  of 
 the  slain  animal.  It  will  not  be  overlooked,  how 
 closely  this  contrast  is  sustained  in  the  respective 
 sacrifices  of  Cain  and  Abel.     Cain  adopts  a  self- 
 
 o  2 
 
196  CAIN  AND  ABEL. 
 
 suggested  atonement,  a  covering  for  sin,  of  the 
 produce  of  the  ground  ;  Abel  a  divinely  com- 
 manded atonement,  a  covering  for  sin,  of  the  pro- 
 duce of  the  flock.  The  attempt  of  Cain,  like  the 
 attempt  of  Adam,  is  ineflectual.  The  adoption  of 
 the  Divine  expedient  by  Abel  is  eff'ectual.  Cain 
 is  punished  for  his  disregard  of  the  sacred  lesson. 
 Abel  is  honoured  for  its  observance  :  the  punish- 
 ment and  the  protection  equally  referring  to  the 
 emblematic  command. 
 
 Of  the  detail  thus  given,  we  cannot  suppose  that 
 any  portion  was  superfluous.  The  characteristic 
 of  the  general  narrative  is  the  most  remarkable 
 brevity ;  yet,  if  circumstances,  apparently  so 
 trivial,  as  the  clothing  of  our  original  parents,  are 
 stated;  what  other  reason  can  be  assigned  than 
 that  they  were  not  trivial^  that  they  formed  a 
 marked  feature  of  the  Divine  dispensation,  and  that 
 they  were  important  to  be  recorded  for  the  spiritual 
 guidance  of  man. 
 
 The  history  thenceforth  resumes  its  brevity  ; 
 leaving  us  to  make  our  way  by  the  common  know- 
 ledge of  human  motives.  Why  both  Cain  and 
 Abel  should  have  offered  sacrifice  ;  when,  by  the 
 rule  which  seems  to  have  been  universal  in  the 
 patriarchal  line,  Adam,  as  the  head  of  the  family, 
 should  have  been  the  sole  sacrificer  ?  Why,  when 
 the  rite  had  been  so  lately,  and  so  solemnly 
 taught,  they  should  have  formed  such  widely  dif- 
 ferent conceptions  of  its  nature  ?    And,  why  the 
 
CAIN   AND  ABEL.  197 
 
 different  results  of  their  offerings  should  have 
 kindled  a  feud,  to  be  extinguished  only  in  homi- 
 cide ?  are  questions,  naturally  arising  from  the  nar- 
 rative, yet  which  have  never  been  satisfactorily 
 answered. 
 
 Perhaps  the  general  principles  of  our  nature 
 may  lead  us  to  the  elucidation.  The  right  of  elder- 
 ship, and  the  purposes  of  sacrifice,  both  closely 
 connected  with  the  chief  of  all  topics,  the  promise 
 of  the  great  Restorer ;  must  naturally  have  occu- 
 pied a  large  share  of  human  consideration  in  the 
 first  ages.  We  know  that  those  ages  bore  no  resem- 
 blance to  the  barbarism  that  followed  the  deluge. 
 Adam  was  in  neither  the  state  of  the  savage, 
 feeding  on  acorns ;  nor  of  the  hunter,  wild,  and 
 living  on  the  flesh  of  animals.  He  had  begun  his 
 sojourn  in  the  wilderness,  in  the  third  state,  the 
 agricultural,  perhaps  the  happiest  of  all.  Civili- 
 zation was  already  beyond  its  infancy.  One  of 
 the  first  works  even  of  Cain,  and  of  Cain  in  his 
 banishment,  was  the  foundation  of  a  city.  Thus, 
 high  topics  were  not  beyond  the  capacity  of  the 
 human  mind.  Yet  as,  in  all  the  light  of  civiliza- 
 tion and  Scripture,  we  have  contemptuous  denials 
 of  the  truth  ;  the  same  obstinacy  may  have  been 
 displayed  in  the  tents  of  Adam.  Cain  must  have 
 been  proud  and  presumptuous,  long  before  his 
 temperament  could  have  been  inflamed  to  murder. 
 An  arrogant  heart  would  have  furnished  him  with 
 strong  prejudices  against  the  rite,  which  by  ap- 
 
198  CAIN  AND  ABEL. 
 
 pointing  animal  sacrifice,  as  the  instrument  of  im- 
 mediate propitiation,  and  the  emblem  of  the  still 
 greater  blessing  to  come,  might  seem  to  raise  the 
 shepherd  above  the  tiller  of  the  soil.  The  argu- 
 ments which  have  been  so  often  urged  against  the 
 atonement  in  after  times,  are  too  congenial  to  a 
 presumptuous  spirit,  to  have  escaped  the  willing 
 sceptic  in  any  age  of  the  world, — the  deficiency 
 of  all  natural  connexion  between  the  acquittal  of 
 guilt,  and  the  suflferings  of  a  creature  incapable 
 of  crime  ; — the  contrast  between  the  purification 
 of  the  heart,  and  the  shedding  of  blood; — or,  if 
 sacrifice  must  be  offered  to  a  beneficent  Deity, 
 the  inferior  suitableness  of  flesh  and  blood  to  the 
 produce  of  the  ground,  the  rich,  useful,  and  inno- 
 cent work  of  his  own  rain  and  sunshine,  involving 
 neither  pollution  nor  pain. 
 
 To  those  objections  no  reply  could  be  made, 
 then  or  now,  but,  that  such  was  the  commajid. 
 The  off'ering  of  animal  sacrifice  is  evidently  not 
 the  result  of  any  natural  process  of  the  mind. 
 And,  if  a  further  revelation  had  not  discovered  its 
 object  to  man,  the  connexion  of  this  apparent 
 waste  of  unresisting  life  with  the  acquittal  of  crime 
 must  have  remained  among  the  most  inscrutable 
 mysteries  of  religion.  But  the  true  bearing  of  the 
 argument  is, — that  a  rite  directly  repulsive,  costly, 
 and  painful  ;  which  yet  was  practised  from  the 
 beginning  by  all  nations ;  and  most  habitually 
 and  solemnly  by  the  nation  chosen  to  preserve  the 
 
CAIN  AND  ABEL.  199 
 
 true  idea  of  the  Divine  being  ;  and  most  scrupu- 
 lously by  the  wisest,  most  virtuous,  and  most 
 divine!}^  favoured,  of  that  nation  ;  must  have  had 
 its  orio-in  in  some  source  above  human  invention. 
 
 That  it  so  had  its  origin,  and  that  the  purpose  of 
 the  whole  rite  was  a  reference  to  the  future  blood- 
 shedding  of  the  Redeemer,  is,  also,  not  merely 
 consistent  with  the  general  narrative ;  but  is  the 
 only  conception  on  which  the  repulse  of  Cain's 
 offering  can  be  made  intelligible.  It  is  clear, 
 that  the  offering  of  fruits  and  flowers  gives  the 
 mind  no  representation  whatever  of  human  death  ; 
 while  the  slaying  of  one  of  the  inferior  animals 
 gives  every  feature  of  the  physical  suffering. 
 Thus  Cain's  offering  must  have  been  utterly  value- 
 less, as  an  emblem  of  the  great  propitiation  ;  and 
 thus  failing  in  the  only  object  for  which  sacrifice 
 was  divinely  appointed,  it  justly  underwent  a  total 
 rejection  ^ 
 
 1  The  objections  of  late  theories  to  the  Divine  origin  of  sacri- 
 fice may  be  briefly  answered.  It  has  been  said  that  if  sacrifice 
 were  of  Divine  origin,  Moses  ougJii  to  have  distinctly  stated  it, 
 as  he  has  stated  the  sacrificial  institution  in  his  law  :  or  that  if 
 God  had  commanded  it,  there  is  no  reason  why  it  should  not 
 have  been  placed  in  the  Decalogue.  To  this  the  obvious  an- 
 swer is  :  That  we  have  no  right  to  prescribe  what  Moses  ought 
 to  have  done  ;  that  its  Divine  origin  is  marked  by  the  "  clothing 
 with  skins"  as  contrasted  with  clothing  with  the  produce  of 
 the  ground ;  wliich  though  not  a  sacrifice  offered  by  either  the 
 Deity  or  by  man,  was  an  emblem  ;  and  as  such,  coming  from  God, 
 and  connected  with  the  prophetic  sentence  just  given,  is  a  decla- 
 
200  CAIN  AND  ABEL. 
 
 But  the  disgrace  of  Cain's  altar,  irritating,  as 
 it  must  have  been,  to  his  presumption,  was  con- 
 ration  of  the  value  of  sacrifice  sufficiently  intelligible  to  us,  and 
 therefore,  we  have  no  reason  to  doubt,  sufficiently  intelligible  to 
 Adam.  As  to  the  omission  of  the  detail  of  the  first  sacrifice ; 
 the  remark  has  been  frequently  and  justly  made,  that  the  his- 
 torian omits  other  evidently  important  circumstances,  the 
 prophecy  of  Enoch,  &c.  in  the  rapidity  of  the  narrative,  and  that 
 he  limited  himself  to  matters  of  strict  necessity. 
 
 Why  the  sabbath  was  one  of  the  commands  of  the  Deca- 
 logue, while  sacrifice  was  not ;  is  accounted  for  by  the  evident 
 intention  of  the  Divine  Being  that  the  observance  of  a  sabbath 
 should  be  perpetual,  which  was  not  the  case  with  sacrifice. 
 The  Decalogue  was  the  publication  of  the  Principles  of  Divine 
 Law. 
 
 It  has  been  said  that  the  prevalence  of  sacrifice  in  the  ancient 
 world  is  naturally  to  be  traced  to  the  sacrifice  offered  by  Noah 
 after  the  deluge.  But  where  did  Noah  find  the  authority  for 
 that  sacrifice,  if  not  in  the  practice  of  his  fathers  ?  Or,  where  did 
 he  find  his  distinction  of  clean  and  unclean  animals  ?  a  distinction 
 existing  before  the  flood,  (as  in  the  instance  of  entering  the  Ark,) 
 and  a  distinction  which,  with  Moses,  expressly  referred  to  sacri- 
 fice. It  is  alleged  that  the  sacrifice  of  Noah  was  eucharistical. 
 But,  where  is  the  proof  that  any  eucharistical  sacrifice  existed  be- 
 fore the  law  ?  Noah's  sacrifice  was  one  of  blood,  to  a  great  ex- 
 tent ;  "  he  took  of  every  clean  beast  and  clean  fowl"  for  a  burnt- 
 offering,  of  all  the  living  creatures  capable  of  sacrifice,  for  him- 
 self and  for  the  earth;  and  the  result  of  its  acceptance  with  God, 
 was  the  relief  of  the  earth  from  the  curse,  and  a  promise  that  it 
 should  not  return.  "  God  smelled  a  sweet  savour,  and  he  said, 
 I  will  not  again  curse  the  ground  any  more."  Are  not  all  those, 
 signs  of  the  sacrifice  for  sin  ?  The  sacrifice  was  accepted,  and 
 the  punishment  of  the  sin  of  earth  remitted. 
 
 It  has  been  said,  that  St.  Paul's  declaration,   "  By  faith  Abel 
 
CAIN  AND  ABEL.  201 
 
 nected  with   a  result   still  more  startling  to   his 
 pride.     The  question  of  sacrifice  comprehended 
 
 offered  unto  God  a  more  excellent  sacrifice  than  Cain,  by  which 
 he  obtained  witness  that  he  was   righteous ;    God  testifying  of 
 his  gifts,"  means  little  more  than  that  he,  being  a  more  virtuous 
 man   than  Cain,  offered  a  more  pleasing  sacrifice.     But  what 
 does  the  historian  say  more  of  the  virtue  of  Abel  than  of  Cain 
 before  the  sacrifice?    And  how  can  we  conceive  Cain  to  have 
 been  disqualified  previously ;  when  we  find  the  Divine  Being 
 urging  him  even  after  his  failure,  to  offer  sacrifice,  and  for  the 
 actual  purpose  of  reinstating  himself.     Or  is  not  Abel's  faith 
 declared  to  be  directly  connected  with  the  sacrifice  ?    "  By  faith 
 Abel  offered  a  more  excellent  sacrifice,"     This  faith  too  must 
 have  been  the  result  of  a  command  or  promise  of  Deity.     "  For 
 faith  (Rom.  x.  11.)  cometh  by  hearing,  and  hearing  by  the  word 
 of  God."     The  faith  of  all  the  patriarchs  was  reliance  on  a  pro- 
 mise or  obedience  to  a  command.     Or,  in  the  estimate  of  St. 
 Paul,  or  of  any  Christian,  what  could  faith   in  sacrifice  have 
 meant,  but  a  looking  forward  to  the  Messiah  ! 
 
 The  grammatical,  or  verbal,  controversy  turns  chiefly  on  two 
 words  HTOD  and  TrXeiwv.     "  The  Lord  had  respect  unto  Abel 
 and  his  Mincha."     It  is  contended  from  this  that  the  offering 
 was   the  same  mincha,   as  under  the  law,  "  where  it  meant  in 
 general  an  offering  of  flour."     This  however  is  fully  repelled, 
 by   the  observations,  that   the  chief  and  original  meaning  of 
 mincha  was  an  offerhig  of  any  kind;  (Parkhurst.  Le  Clerc  on 
 Levit.  ii.  1.  &c.)  even  in  the  sense  of  a  present  to  a  superior  or 
 prince.     (1  Kings  x.  25  ;    2  Chr.  ix.  24  ;    2  Kings  viii.  8.  9.) 
 That  it  sometimes    means  gifts  brought  by   strangers   to  the 
 temple,  and  that  its  peculiar  distinction  was  an  oblation,  whether 
 of  an  animal  or  the  produce  of  the  ground,  consumed  at  the  altar. 
 The  three  sacrificial  terms,  Corban,  Mincha,  and  Zebach,  seve- 
 rally meaning :    Corban,  whatever  was  brought  to  God  before 
 the  altar,  whether  dismissed,  dedicated,  or  sacrificed  ;    Mincha^ 
 
202  CAIN  AND  ABEL. 
 
 the  whole  principle  of  the  patriarchal  religion. 
 Nothing  was  more  natural  than  that  any  contempt 
 
 whatever  was  consumed  at  the  altar,  whether  animate  or  inaiii- 
 mate  ;  and  Zebach,  the  oblation  of  an  animal  slain  in  sacrifice. 
 (Kennicott,  Two  Diss.  Magee.  vol.  ii.)  Besides,  Mincha  does 
 directly  express  an  animal  sacrifice  in  1  Sam.  ii.  17.  and 
 Mai.  i.  13. 
 
 The  TrXeiiov,  applied  to  Abel's  sacrifice,  has  been  said  to  im- 
 ply, that  the  cause  of  its  being  accepted  was  the  abundance  of 
 his  offering,  or  perhaps  the  addition  of  the  fruits  of  the  ground 
 to  the  firstlings  of  his  flock.  This  stands  wholly  on  the  suppo- 
 sition that  TrXetwv  necessarily  refers  to  number.  But  the  sup- 
 position is  contradicted  by  its  use,  as  denoting  superior  excel- 
 lence. "  Is  not  the  soul  more  {TrXeidjy)  than  meat?"  (Matt.  vi. 
 25.)  "  Behold,  a  greater  (TrXeiwv)  than  Jonas  is  here  !"  (Ibid, 
 xii.  41.)  Schleusner  gives  its  true  meaning  in  the  text,  "  a 
 fuller  sacrifice,"  one  more  possessing  the  value  and  nature  of 
 the  acceptable  offering.  It  is  further  to  be  observed  that,  if  we 
 take  the  mincha  in  the  restricted  meaning  which  it  afterwards 
 assumed  in  the  Law,  Cain,  who  offered  his  mincha,  must  have 
 offered  "  fine  flour  with  oil  poured  upon  it,  and  frankincense 
 placed  thereon  :"  the  latter,  at  least,  a  product  not  likely  to  have 
 enriched  the  soil  of  thorns  and  thistles  ;  even  if  the  olive  should 
 have  ripened  in  that  sterile  world. 
 
 The  true  distinction  of  the  offerings  of  Cain  and  Abel,  is  to  be 
 found  in  the  original  purpose  of  sacrifice.  Loss  of  life  was 
 essential  to  the  representation  of  the  great  final  blood-shedding 
 on  the  cross.  The  acceptance  of  fruits,  &c.  under  the  Jewish 
 economy,  was  eucharistical,  and  for  minor  purposes. 
 
 Archbishop  Magee  falls  into  the  error  of  conceiving,  that 
 "  the  blood  which  speaketh  better  things  than  the  blood  of 
 Abel,"  refers  to  the  blood  of  the  lamb  on  Abel's  altar.  This  the 
 whole  context  forbids.  The  true  allusion  is,  to  the  superiority  of 
 the  blood  which  pardons,  to  the  blood  which  accuses — the  blood 
 
CAIN    AND    ABEL.  203 
 
 of  the  original  rite  should  have  excited  anxiety 
 in  whatever  population  existed  on  the  earth ;  and 
 no  more  obvious  way  of  deciding  the  subject  could 
 have  been  adopted,  than  that  of  appealing  to  the 
 Author  of  the  command,  by  a  double  sacrifice. 
 The  result  was  undeniable  :  Cain,  by  some  dis- 
 tinct mark  of  the  Divine  displeasure,  was  re- 
 jected ^  But  this  rejection  drew  with  it  conse- 
 quences which  must  have  been  felt  painfully  by 
 any  mind,  and  might  have  turned  an  arrogant 
 and  self-willed  spirit  into  fury.  The  primitive 
 sacrijficer  was  the  head  of  the  family  ^ ;   custom 
 
 of  the  Messiah,  to  that  blood  which  cried  out  of  the  ground 
 against  Cain.  Between  the  blood  of  Abel's  altar  and  of  the 
 Cross,  there  could  be  no  difference  in  effect,  the  one  being  only 
 the  emblem  of  the  other — the  object  of  both  the  same. 
 
 *  We  have  an  instance  of  this  appeal  to  a  Divine  solution,  in 
 the  Apostolic  choice  of  a  successor  to  Judas.  We  have  a  still 
 closer  similitude,  in  the  contending  claims  of  Elijah  and  the 
 priests  of  Baal ;  a  sacrificial  instance.  The  only  point  of  dis- 
 tinction between  the  cases  of  Abel  and  Elijah  being  that,  in  the 
 latter,  the  true  Deity  was  to  be  discovered  by  the  sacrifice ;  in 
 the  former,  the  true  sacrifice  was  to  be  discovered  by  the  Deity, 
 In  both,  the  appeal  was  made  by  sacrifice,  and  to  Heaven. 
 
 Theodotion  translates  the  acceptance  by  iveTrvpiaev.  Fire 
 from  heaven  was  the  usual  sign  under  the  law.  Lev.  ix. ;  Judg. 
 vi. ;  Kings  xviii.,  &c.     See  also  Heidegger. 
 
 "  From  Adam's  example  was  probably  derived  the  primitive 
 custom,  that  the  head  of  the  family  was  also  its  priest :  as  in 
 the  cases  of  Noah,  Gen.  viii.  20  ;  Job  i.  5  ;  Abraham,  Gen.xii. 
 8;  XV.  9,  10,  &c.  ;  Melchizedec,  Gen.  xiv.  18;  Isaac,  Gen. 
 xxvi.  25  ;   Jacob,  Gen.  xxxi.  54."— JIale's  Chronol.  v.  2.  28. 
 
 7 
 
204  CAIN    AND    ABEL. 
 
 which  seems  to  have  been  universal  in  the  patri- 
 archal line,  and  to  have  continued  to  the  appoint- 
 ment of  the  especial  priesthood  of  the  Jews.  It  is 
 perfectly  natural  to  conceive  that  disqualification, 
 in  an  office  so  high  as  the  chief  depositary  and  in- 
 strument of  the  national  religion,  should  operate 
 strongly  against  all  other  claims  to  superiority. 
 And  it  is  plain,  that  it  did  so  operate,  in  the 
 rejection  of  Cain  from  the  headship  of  the  fa- 
 mily. 
 
 "  And  the  Lord  said  to  Cain,  Why  art  thou 
 wroth  ?  and  why  is  thy  countenance  fallen  ?  If 
 thou  doest  well,  shalt  thou  not  be  accepted  ?  and 
 if  thou  doest  not  well,  a  sin-offering  lieth  at  the 
 door."  This  is  the  New  Covenant  with  mankind, 
 as  applied  to  Cain.  The  original  Covenant  would 
 have  said  to  him,  as  it  had  said  to  Adam,  "  If 
 thou  doest  well,  shalt  thou  not  be  accepted  ?  but 
 if  thou  doest  not  well,  thou  shalt  die.'"  The  New 
 Covenant,  on  the  contrary,  offers  reconciliation, 
 and  offers  it  hy  sacrifice.  The  passage  is  evidently 
 a  remonstrance  of  the  Deity ;  but  one  of  those 
 remonstrances  by  which  he  gives  the  sinner  an 
 opportunity  of  retracing  his  steps  :  a  proceeding 
 of  Providence  similar  to  those  which  subsequently 
 warned  the  world  of  the  coming  of  the  flood  ;  the 
 Ninevites,  and  the  kingdoms  of  Israel  and  Judah, 
 before  the  captivities,  &c.  The  remonstrance  is 
 in  the  language  of  friend  with  friend.  For,  it  is  to 
 be  observed,   that  the   oftence  of  Cain   had  yet 
 
CATN    AND    ABEL.  205 
 
 scarcely  gone  beyond  a  rash  dependence  on  his 
 own    opinion  ;    he    had   not  disowned   God,    nor 
 even  refused  to  honour  him  by  the  rite  of  sacri- 
 fice :    his  error  was  the  every-day  one  of  thinking 
 himself  wiser  than  revelation,  and  modifying  Di- 
 vine things  by  human  prejudices.     The  obvious 
 paraphrase  of  the  passage   is,    "  Why   art  thou 
 angry  and  discontented  ?  what  conditions  can  be 
 more  favourable  than   those  given  to  man  ?     If 
 he  does  righteously,  he  is,  of  course,   free  from 
 Divine  punishment ;    and   if  he   sins,    pardon   is 
 within  his  reach,  on  the  easy  terms  of  offering  an 
 animal  sacrifice."     This  doctrine  we  know  to  be 
 the  truth,  and  to  be  the  actual  spirit  of  that  cove- 
 nant of  promise,  which  was  given  to  Adam  as  a 
 protection  from  the  final  punishment  of  his  first 
 sin  ;   and  on   which  the   whole  future  system  of 
 the    Divine  pardon   was  constructed.     After  this 
 statement  of  the  principle,  follows  the  reference 
 to   the   peculiar  case  of  Cain.     The  only  direct 
 offence  of  which  we  know  any  thing  in  his  in- 
 stance,  was  his  offering  an  unsuitable  sacrifice ; 
 and  the  only  causes  of  his  discontent  were,  the 
 disgrace  of  its   open  rejection,  and  its  evidence 
 that  the   younger  brother  was    preferred   as  the 
 sacrificer ;    an   evidence   which    endangered    the 
 right  of  the  elder  to   the   headship  of   the  line. 
 To   this   latter    source    of    discontent   the   Deity 
 applies  in  the  words  :    "And  unto  thee  shall  his 
 
206  CAIN    AND    ABEL. 
 
 desire  be,  and  thou  shalt  rule  over  him."  In 
 effect,  it  is  declared,  that  animal  sacrifice  would 
 not  only  ensure  the  general  pardon  of  his  sin  ; 
 but,  that  compliance  with  the  rite  would  secure 
 his  eldership  ;  that  his  brother,  whom  the  ac- 
 cepted sacrifice  had  placed  in  a  higher  condition 
 for  the  time,  should  again  become  his  subordi- 
 nate, and  his  right  of  superiority  be  once  more 
 acknowledged. — "  Unto  thee  shall  his  desire  be; 
 and  thou  shalt  rule  over  him:"  a  declaration 
 wholly  unnecessary,  unless  the  natural  subordina- 
 tion of  the  younger  branches  of  the  patriarchal 
 family  to  its  heir, — a  subordination  divesting  those 
 branches  of  the  paternity  of  Christ — had  been 
 already  disturbed. 
 
 The  declaration  seems  to  have  been  made  while 
 Cain  was  in  his  first  wrath  at  the  repulse  of  his 
 offering ;  probably  while  he  yet  stood  beside  the 
 dishonoured  altar,  and  under  the  eyes  of  his 
 parents  and  their  offspring'.  But  the  opening  for 
 return  was  disregarded  ;  a  darker  way  was  more 
 congenial  to  the  mind  of  the  first  sceptic.  We 
 are  told  (in  apparent  contrast  to  the  publicity  of 
 the  rebuke,)  that  he  afterwards  talked  with  Jiis 
 brother  (evidently  alone,)  in  the  field  ;   and  there 
 
 ^  It  is  not  improbable  that,  before  this  period  at  least,  daugh- 
 ters were  bom  to  our  first  parents.  Cain  builds  a  city  in  the 
 early  part  of  his  exile  ;  which  naturally  implies  some  degree  of 
 population. 
 
CAIN    AND    ABEL.  207 
 
 adopted  the  most  direct  of  all  means  to  extinguish 
 rivalry :  "  Cain  rose  up  against  Abel,  and  slew 
 him^" 
 
 The  conception,  that  the  loss  of  the  eldership 
 was  the  chief  source  of  Cain's  discontent,  and 
 the  chief  stimulant  to  his  final  crime,  is  further 
 confirmed  by  the  nature  of  his  punishment.  The 
 act  which,  in  the  shortsightedness  of  cruelty  and 
 rage,  was  to  make  him  secure  of  possession,  in- 
 stantly puts  it  beyond  all  hope.  The  murder  had 
 been  secret ;  he  had  probably  buried  the  body  ; 
 he  is  questioned  by  the  Deity — "  Where  is  Abel, 
 thy  brother  ?"  He  answers  by  an  insolent  equi- 
 vocation, if  not  a  sneer  at  the  sentence  which  had 
 placed  his  brother  above  him  : — "  Am  I  my  bro- 
 ther's keeper?"  His  sentence  is,  in  every  sense, 
 judicial:  in  all  points,  it  marks  the  nature  of  his 
 crime  ;  the  tillage,  in  the  superiority  of  whose 
 produce  he  confided,  is  to  be  at  an  end,  the 
 earth  is  cursed  to  him  ;  the  inheritance  and  supe- 
 riority over  the  race  of  Adam,  for  which  he  com- 
 mitted murder,  is  to  be  so  totally  alienated,  that 
 he  is  never  to  be  master  of  any  authority  over  man 
 
 *  Kennicott  says, — "  The  transgression  of  Cain  is  recorded, 
 among  other  reasons,  to  account  for  the  transfer  of  the  seniority, 
 or  right  of  primogeniture  ;  and  so  the  parentage  of  the  Messiah, 
 from  Cain's  into  Seth's  younger  line  :  which  was  absolutely  ne- 
 cessary to  be  known  in  the  history  of  our  Lord's  genealogy." — 
 Diss.  II. 
 
208  CAIN    AND    ABEL. 
 
 or  earth ;  his  foot  is  never  to  have  even  a  resting- 
 place  ;  and  his  whole  life  is  to  be  a  flight  from 
 the  face  of  human  being. 
 
 Cain's  retort  to  his  sentence  has  been  inter- 
 preted sometimes  as  scorn,  sometimes  as  depreca- 
 tion ;  but,  from  a  murderer  unrepentant,  and 
 writhing  under  a  consciousness  of  irretrievable 
 ruin,  it  sounds  much  more  the  language  of  fu- 
 rious despair.  Like  many  a  daring  criminal 
 since,  he  finds  a  fierce  vigour  even  in  the  depth 
 of  his  infliction.  He  tauntingly  pronounces  that 
 the  severity  of  the  punishment  must  defeat  itself : 
 — "  My  punishment  is  greater  than  I  can  bear\" 
 He  recapitulates,  with  a  feeling  not  singular  in  the 
 undone,  the  keener  stings  of  his  sentence,  his  ex- 
 pulsion from  the  land  where  the  Divine  glory  still 
 shone  at  the  gate  of  Paradise  : — "  From  thy  face 
 I  shall  be  hid;"  and  his  perpetual  toil  and 
 exile  : — "  I    shall    be    a   fugitive    and   vagabond 
 
 '  This  has  been  translated,  "  My  iniquity  is  greater  than 
 can  be  forgiven  ;"  on  tlie  authority  of  the  Septuagint,  the 
 Vulgate,  the  Syriac,  and  Arabic.  But  this  meaning  is  difficult 
 to  reconcile  with  the  context.  The  reckless  spirit  of  Cain 
 would  naturally  defy  an  inevitable  punishment,  ^schylus 
 may  have  found  the  model  of  his  Prometheus  in  this  sullen 
 scorn  of  a  suffering  which  no  deprecation  could  have  the  power 
 to  avert.  The  passage  has  been  also  tried  with  an  interroga- 
 tory: — "  Is  my  iniquity  too  great  to  be  forgiven  ?"  But  this 
 contrition  is  inconsistent  alike  with  the  character  of  the  criminal 
 and  the  execution  of  his  sentence. 
 
CAIN     AND    ABEL.  209 
 
 upou  the  earth;"  closing  with  the  bitter  self- 
 congratulation,  that  a  punishment  of  this  order 
 must  speedily  have  an  end  :  that  a  life,  thus  ex- 
 posed by  Heaven,  must  fall  an  easy  prey  to  the 
 hostility  of  man: — "  Every  one  that  findeth  me 
 will  slay  me."  But  the  answer  to  this  defiance 
 gives  him  only  another  proof  that  the  Divine 
 judgment  is  not  to  be  baffled.  He  is  told  that 
 there  is  no  hope  for  him  in  the  violence  of  man- 
 kind ;  that  a  sign  shall  be  put  upon  him,  to  re- 
 serve the  criminal  for  the  full  completion  of  his 
 sentence ;  and  that  sevenfold  vengeance  shall  be 
 proclaimed  against  his  slayer.  His  banishment 
 follows,  without  delay  : — "  And  Cain  went  out 
 from  the  presence  of  the  Lord." 
 
 The  sentence  of  Cain  stands  alone  in  the  his- 
 tory of  judgment ;  but  some,  at  least,  of  its  objects 
 may  be  discoverable.  His  natural  punishment 
 would  have  been,  to  have  perished  on  the  spot, 
 by  that  law  of  retaliation  which  is  imprinted  in 
 the  heart  of  man — the  wild  justice  of  nature. 
 But  larger  objects  might  have  been  lost  by  this 
 summary  extinction.  In  a  young  world,  rising 
 at  once  into  numbers  and  violence,  few  warnings 
 against  bloodshed  could  be  more  powerful,  than 
 the  sight  of  the  eldest  born  of  mankind,  the  head 
 of  the  hallowed  line,  and  chieftain  of  all  the 
 dwellers  of  the  earth,  flung  into  utter  ruin, 
 amerced  of  his  rank,  possessions,  and  country, 
 and  driven,  like  a  wild  beast,  from  the  haunts  of 
 
210  CAIN    AND    ABEL. 
 
 man.  Even  that  bitter  aggravation  of  his  exile, 
 his  perpetual  flight,  might  have  aided  the  pur- 
 pose, by  spreading  the  warning.  That  the  nature 
 of  his  crime  must  have  been  made  known  to  those 
 ''  sons  and  daughters"  which  were  born  to  Adam, 
 and  to  those  descendants  of  Cain  which  fixed 
 themselves  in  the  land  of  "  exile,"  is  evident 
 from  the  declaration,  that  the  "  sign"  should 
 preserve  him  from  being  slain  ;  a  declaration  im- 
 plying that  the  story,  the  penalty,  and  the  sign, 
 were  to  be  alike  matters  of  common  knowledge. 
 Accordingly,  we  find  Cain,  his  guilt,  and  his 
 sign,  alluded  to  in  the  seventh  generation,  perhaps 
 a  thousand  years  after,  and  in  words  which  seem 
 even  to  express  that  he  was  then  alive'. 
 
 Yet,  the  Divine  wisdom  is  not  limited  to  a 
 single  purpose.  To  people  the  earth,  and  to  pre- 
 serve the  sacred  race  of  the  Sethites  from  pollu- 
 tion, were  equally  objects  of  the  Deity. 
 
 In  all  periods  of  mankind  the  planting  of  re- 
 mote lands  has  been  a  reluctant  effort.  The  divi- 
 sion of  the  earth  after  the  Deluge  was  effected 
 only  by  a  Divine  command,  seconded  by  an  in- 
 dignant miracle.  In  Greece,  the  great  settler  of 
 the  north  and  west,  the  colony  was,  in  almost  all 
 instances,  the  product  of  civil  convulsion ;  the 
 victorious  party  cut  away  a  portion  of  the  State, 
 
 '  "  If  Cain  shall  he  avenged  sevenfold,  truly  Lamech  seventy 
 and  seven  fold." 
 
CAIN   AND   ABEL.  211 
 
 and  cast  it  forth  to  strike  root  in  the  wilderness. 
 In  later  Europe  it  has  been  the  product  of  disas- 
 trous war,  or  religious  persecution.  The  change 
 has  always  been  explosive.  Man  clings  to  home ; 
 and  if  he  is  to  be  projected  beyond  seas  and 
 mountains  into  untried  lands,  it  must  be  by  some 
 of  those  shocks  and  throes  which  put  society  in 
 peril.  If  he  take  shelter  in  the  swamp  and 
 the  forest,  it  must  be  from  a  contrast  of  their 
 quiet  with  the  tumult  that  he  has  left  behind. 
 Our  day  forms  the  single  exception.  The  gentler 
 shape  which  this  great  operation  is  now  assuming, 
 and  which  more  resembles  the  silent  diffusion  of 
 light  and  heat  through  the  atmosphere  than  the 
 tempests  of  the  past,  forms  one  of  the  most 
 grateful  and  singular  characteristics  of  the  time. 
 
 Cain  colonized  in  the  first  land  to  which  he 
 was  driven,  and  there  built  a  city.  Of  him  no- 
 thing more  is  told.  But  as  we  knoiu  that,  for  the 
 sake  of  punishment,  his  life  was  put  beyond  the 
 reach  of  chance,  we  may  justly  conceive  that  it 
 was  not  shortened  by  nature.  He  had  one  son, 
 Enos  :  he  might,  like  Adam,  have  had  many 
 whose  names  have  not  been  recorded.  If  he 
 built  a  city,  which  became  a  place  of  permanent 
 dwelling  for  Enos  and  his  descendants,  we  can 
 have  no  reason  to  doubt,  that  in  his  wanderings 
 he  might  have  made  many  of  those  little  begin- 
 nings of  settlement  which  were  in  the  power  of  a 
 
 p2 
 
212  CAIN  AND  ABEL. 
 
 fugitive.  That  he  continued  to  wander,  we  know, 
 from  the  express  sentence,  that  he  should  be  a 
 "  fugitive  and  vagabond  upon  the  earth."  The 
 most  natural  form,  even  the  most  natural  aggrava- 
 tion of  his  punishment,  would  be,  that  of  continu- 
 ally making  those  efforts  either  to  find  rest,  or 
 stubbornly  to  defeat  the  Divine  sentence  ;  and  of 
 being  continually  driven  from  each  spot,  at  the 
 moment  when  he  had  made  it  the  settlement  of 
 himself  and  his  children.  We  can  scarcely  con- 
 ceive a  life  of  keener  suffering  than  this  constant 
 struggle  against  an  inevitable  sentence ;  this  con- 
 tinually reviving  hope  of  ease  broken  up  by  conti- 
 nual disappointment ;  this  feeling  that  he  had 
 perpetually  to  begin  life  anew,  to  be  driven  from 
 every  connection  of  kindred  as  soon  as  it  was 
 formed,  roaming,  like  the  daemon  of  after  times, 
 through  the  desert,  seeking  rest  and  finding 
 none ;  and  thus,  divorced  from  human  nature,  to 
 wander  on  from  age  to  age  through  the  solitudes 
 of  the  globe.  Yet  those  small  settlements,  planted 
 at  wide  distances  from  each  other,  unchecked  by 
 mutual  hostilities,  and  with  full  room  to  spread, 
 might  be  among  the  most  direct  and  powerful 
 means  of  peopling  the  world. 
 
 But  if  it  be  objected  that  the  peopling  of  the 
 great  wilderness  would  thus  have  been  left  to  a 
 race  marked  by  Divine  alienation  :  the  answer 
 is,  that  the  peopHng  of  the  finest  portions  of  the 
 
CA[N   AND   ABEL.  213 
 
 earth,  in  after  times,  was  given  to  men  and  nations 
 notoriously  corrupt  and  alien.  What  was  the  origin 
 of  the  Q-reat  Asiatic  kingdoms  ?  Robberv.  Who 
 were  the  chief  transmitters  of  manners  and  civi- 
 lization to  Greece  ?  Egyptian  and  Canaanite 
 idolators.  Who  were  the  planters  of  the  southern 
 shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  the  great  leaders 
 in  all  that  influence  which  commercial  wealth  and 
 enterprise  exerted  upon  the  early  European  and 
 Asiatic  world  ? — Tyrian  and  Sidonian  idolators  ? 
 Or,  what  nation  was  it  that  least  extended  its 
 power,  its  influence,  or  its  blood,  and  never  in- 
 tentionally sent  out  a  colony  ?  The  only  nation 
 which  possessed  religious  knowledge.  Thus  un- 
 searchable are  the  ways  of  Providence. 
 
 Still,  we  are  not  entitled  to  decide  that  among 
 the  myriads  settled  by  Cain  and  his  sons  in  the 
 deserts  of  the  globe,  all  were  equally  sharers  in 
 the  irreligion  or  the  passions  of  their  ancestor. 
 Men  will  be  judged  according  to  their  opportuni- 
 ties. The  Spirit  of  God  strove  with  men  before  the 
 Deluge,  as  he  strives  still.  And,  as  no  Christian 
 can  believe  that  the  millions  of  the  heathen  world 
 who  never  heard  of  Christianity,  will  be  judged 
 for  their  ignorance  of  its  doctrines ;  so  we  cannot 
 doubt,  that  in  the  Cainite  generations  multitudes 
 were  to  be  found  sharing  the  mercy  of  that  im- 
 partial Providence,  which,  if  it  give  the  Christian 
 a  higher  promise,  with  a  higher  responsibility, 
 yet  looks  with  a  paternal  eye  upon  all. 
 
214  CAIN  AND  ABEL. 
 
 The  nature  of  the  sign  of  Cain  has  exercised 
 the  usual  quantity  of  disquisition.  By  some  it  is 
 even  conceived  to  be  a  miracle  wrought  in  his 
 presence  to  cheer  him  with  a  pledge  of  safety  ! 
 But  no  consolation  could  have  been  intended  for 
 the  murderer.  Length  of  life  too  was  his  terror'. 
 By  others,  it  has  been  supposed  a  "  horror  of  coun- 
 tenance," to  make  mankind  shun  him,  or  even 
 make  all  assault  fatal.  But  if  those  conceptions 
 were  true,  the  penalty  would  have  been  unneces- 
 sary. The  more  natural  meaning  is,  that  Cain 
 bore  some  marks  on  his  person,  or  his  visage,  suffi- 
 cient to  make  him  known  as  the  man  whose  death 
 was  to  be  visited  with  the  severest  vengeance. 
 "  The  Lord  set  a  mark  upon  Cain,  lest  any,  find- 
 ing him,  should  kill  him,"  If  found,  then,  he  must, 
 like  other  men,  be  exposed  to  the  violence  of 
 fierce  times,  and  the  chances  of  a  man  roaming 
 through  the  world.  The  text  implies,  that  he 
 might,  under  those  circumstances,  have  been  as 
 easily  slain  as  any  other  man  ;  and  it  is  to  pre- 
 vent his  being  an  object  of  violence  that  the 
 penalty  is  denounced.  The  sign  might  have 
 been,  as  in  later  times,  a  brand  of  the  name  or 
 crime  upon  his  forehead.  Providence  wastes  no 
 miracle.      The  safeguard  of  his  unhappy   exist- 
 
 '  Bishop  Conybeare  says,  "  Probably  it  was  such  as  answered 
 the  purpose  of  punishment."  The  Septuagint  translates  it, 
 "  God  set  a  sign  to  Cain  ;"  which  Bishop  Wilson  conceives  to 
 mean,  a  miracle  wrought  to  satisfy  him  of  his  security. 
 
CAIN  AND  ABEL.  215 
 
 ence  lay  in  the  Divine  command  ;  and  any  mark 
 which  was  sufficient  to  identify  him,  was  sufficient 
 for  all  the  purposes.  Yet,  in  the  ante-diluvian 
 age,  all  is  typical ;  and  a  deep  prophetic  meaning 
 may  have  been  couched  in  the  mark  of  Cain. 
 
CHAPTER   XIV. 
 
 THE  LONGEVITY  OF  THE  PATRIARCHS. 
 
 The  length  of  ante-diluvian  life  is  one  of  the 
 most  distinct  statements  of  Scripture.  It  is  fur- 
 ther substantiated  by  the  evident  importance  of 
 its  purposes  at  the  time,  by  its  consistency  with 
 the  circumstances  of  the  history,  and  by  a  most 
 powerful,  though  hitherto  unnoticed,  prophetic 
 coincidence  with  the  leading  eras  of  the  Jewish 
 Dispensation.  It  has  been  resisted,  but  on  the 
 feeblest  of  all  grounds,  that  it  is  no  more  the 
 course  of  nature.  But,  on  this  point,  it  should  be 
 observed,  that  the  duration  of  human  life  seems  to 
 be  altogether  unconnected  with  any  law  of  nature. 
 The  physiologist  has  hitherto  discovered  nothing 
 in  the  human  frame,  which  should  make  a  life  of 
 threescore  and  ten  years  more  natural  than  a  life 
 of  as  many  hundreds.  He  finds  no  preparation 
 for  determinate  decay.  Looking  at  the  frame  of 
 man  in  health,  nothing  but  the  common  know- 
 ledge, that  all   must  die,  could  lead  him  to  pro- 
 
THE   LONGEVITY  OF  THE  PATRIARCHS.  217 
 
 nounce  that  the  configuration  before  him  was  not 
 immortal. 
 
 He  would,  of  course,  feel  that  the  delicacy  and 
 complexity  of  the  mere  mechanical  structure  sin- 
 gularly exposed  it  to  accident;  and  he  might 
 well  be  astonished  that  the  innumerable  nerves 
 and  veins,  the  organs  fine  as  a  hair,  and  micro- 
 scopic muscles,  which  act  in  some  of  the  most 
 constant  functions  of  the  frame,  the  exquisite 
 fibres  which  suspend  the  lenses  of  the  eye,  or 
 carry  vibration  through  the  chambers  of  the  ear, 
 should  act,  for  fifty  or  a  hundred  years  together, 
 with  the  most  unwearied  and  unerring  precision. 
 But  he  would  remark,  that  this  extraordinary 
 machine  possessed  a  quality,  denied  to  all  the 
 works  of  human  invention — the  power  of  self- 
 repair,  a  constant  renewal  of  every  distinct  por- 
 tion, substantially  changing  the  whole  material 
 every  few  years,  yet  retaining  its  form  and  its 
 uses  totally  unchanged.  He  would  remark  an- 
 other provision  still  more  remote,  if  possible,  from 
 the  work  of  human  ingenuity — a  provision  against 
 contingency,  a  prospective  resource  against  the 
 fracture  or  the  wound,  which  might  never  occur  ; 
 a  store  which,  if  not  required,  remained  in  the 
 frame,  neither  w^asted  nor  superfluous.  And  in 
 all  those,  which  yet  are  the  most  common  pheno- 
 mena of  the  system,  he  would  see  the  pledges  of 
 an  existence,  once  actually  prepared  for  unlimited 
 duration. 
 
218  THE    LONGEVITY    OF 
 
 Unquestionably,  there  must  be  some  physical 
 cause  for  the  rapid  decay  of  life  in  our  world  ; 
 for  the  Deity  executes  his  established  will  by  es- 
 tablished means.  But  the  cause  utterly  evades 
 human  knowledge.  No  principle  in  nature  has 
 hitherto  been  ascertained,  by  which  the  heart, 
 that  beats  four  thousand  times  an  hour,  for 
 seventy  or  a  hundred  years,  may  not  vibrate, 
 impel,  and  pour,  at  the  same  marvellous  rate, 
 for  a  thousand.  The  probable  source  of  our 
 ignorance  is,  that  the  superiority  of  the  machine 
 transcends  all  calculation ;  that  we  have  no  data 
 in  the  works  of  human  skill  for  an  approximation 
 to  the  causes  of  decay  in  the  works  of  Deity. 
 
 If  we  are  thus  utterly  unable  to  assign  the  prin- 
 ciple of  decay,  who  shall  be  entitled  to  assert  the 
 impossibility  of  an  existence  of  ten  times  our 
 duration  ?  Nothing,  in  the  researches  of  modern 
 science,  can  authorize  us  to  say,  that  some  im- 
 palpable fibre  added,  or  withdrawn  ;  the  infusion 
 of  some  drop  too  subtle  for  human  perception ; 
 miffht  not  make  the  entire  difference  between  the 
 age  of  Methuselah  and  threescore  and  ten ;  be- 
 tween the  noble  longevity  that,  transferred  to  a 
 later  time,  might  have  stretched  from  the  Nor- 
 man conquest  to  this  hour,  and  the  confused  and 
 feeble  fragment  of  existence  that  belongs  to  our- 
 selves ;  between  the  knowledge  that  might  have 
 tlius  embraced  the  whole  various  and  stirriug  drama 
 of  European  history,   and  the  narrow  experience 
 
THE    PATRIARCHS.  219 
 
 that  sees  l3ut  the  shifting  of  a  scene  ;  between  the 
 magnificent  power  of  vision  that  commands  the 
 birth  and  progress  of  polity,  human  and  Divine, 
 for  a  thousand  years,  and  the  eye  involved  in  the 
 vapours  of  its  brief  and  giddy  day,  perplexed  with 
 knowledge  which  a  few  years  more  will  scorn  as 
 ignorance,  and  passionate  for  objects  which  will 
 be  pronounced  absurdities,  or  evils,  before  it  is 
 cold  in  the  grave. 
 
 To  the  Christian,  the  fact  that  this  statement, 
 or  any  other,  is  found  in  Scripture,  is  perfect 
 proof.  Having  originally  satisfied  his  under- 
 standing, on  manly  and  sincere  inquiry,  that 
 Christianity  is  true ;  and  taking,  as  the  same 
 inquiry  will  fully  authorize  him  to  take,  the  great 
 maxim,  that  "  all  Scripture  is  by  inspiration 
 of  God,"  in  the  most  complete  and  literal  sense 
 of  the  words  ;  his  mind  is  at  ease  for  ever.  Yet 
 he  is  not  the  more  forbidden  to  examine  the  tes- 
 timony of  nature.  He  is  even  so  far  from  being 
 bound  down  to  mental  slavery  of  any  kind,  that 
 he  is  actually  the  only  man  who  is  justified  in  his 
 research  into  nature  :  for  who  but  the  believer  in 
 a  Deity  can  rationally  inquire  into  the  laws  of  his 
 works  ?  What  security  can  the  infidel  philosopher 
 have,  that  the  confusion  which  he  attempts  to 
 investigate,  will  ever  conduct  him  to  order?  that 
 if  darkness  and  chance  were  the  beginning,  they 
 may  not  be  the  end  of  all  things  ?  that  every  step 
 may  not  be  only  into  more  incomprehensible  obscu- 
 
220  THE    LONGEVITY    OF 
 
 rity  1  In  fact,  every  attempt  at  inquiry  is  a 
 practical  denial  of  his  principles ;  for  every  at- 
 tempt must  be  made  in  the  involuntary  convic- 
 tion, that  there  exists  a  great  ruling  Power,  whose 
 ultimate  ways  are  light  and  wisdom. 
 
 The  possible  longevity  of  the  patriarchs  thus 
 cannot  be  denied ;  but  its  probability  may  be 
 strongly  argued  from  the  advantage,  perhaps  the 
 necessity,  of  possessing  such  depositaries  as  the 
 patriarchs,  for  the  transmission  of  the  worship,  arts, 
 and  natural  knowledge,  of  the  first  ages.  We  have 
 no  evidence  that  writing  was  known  before  the 
 Deluge.  It  might  have  been  among  those  gifts 
 of  Heaven  reserved  for  the  use  of  the  more  active, 
 diversified,  and  intellectual  period,  which  was  to 
 open  on  the  renewed  world.  But,  without  this 
 incomparable  art,  there  seems  to  be  no  expedient 
 for  preserving  tradition  but  extreme  length  of  life. 
 To  this  purpose,  as  has  been  frequently  observed, 
 the  ante-diluvian  duration  would  be  strikingly 
 adequate.  The  lives  of  two  patriarchs  would 
 reach  nearly  from  the  creation  to  the  Deluge. 
 And  as  each  was  the  contemporary  of  five  or  six 
 generations,  (with  the  exception  of  Enoch),  the 
 testimony  would  be  delivered  to  his  sons  and  his 
 sons'  sons,  with  the  united  authority  of  the  priest, 
 the  chieftain,  and  the  ancestor. 
 
 The  general  circumstances  which  transpire  in 
 the  narrative,  are  also  strikingly  consistent  with 
 this  degree  of  longevity — the  threat,  for  instance. 
 
THE    PATRIARCHS.  221 
 
 of  destroying  all  life  at  the  end  of  a  hundred  and 
 twenty  years  ;   which,  perhaps,  would  but  lightly 
 affect  the  modern  race  of  man,   would  be  one  of 
 the  most  formidable  inflictions  to  a  race,  to  whom 
 it  implied  the  cutting  off  nearly  nine-tenths  of  the 
 common  duration  of  existence— the  time  of  their 
 children's  birth  bears  nearly  the  modern  propor- 
 tion to  maturity— the  decreasing  rates  of  life  after 
 the  Deluge,   from  the  600  years  of  Shem  to  the 
 239  of  Peleg,  and  the  175  of  Abraham,  are  suit- 
 able to  the  idea  of  great  previous  longevity ;  the 
 decrease  itself  being  satisfactorily  accounted  for 
 by  the  cessation   of  its   use,   from  the  improved 
 opportunities  of  record,    the  extended  establish- 
 ment of  worship,  the  more  various  and  intelligent 
 intercourses  of  man ;  and   probably,   most  of  all, 
 from  the  evident  intention  of  Providence  at  once 
 to  make  the  pressure  of  population  less  hazardous, 
 and  to  produce  a  larger  harvest  of  human  exist- 
 ence;  two  objects,   so    apparently  opposed,   that 
 their  successful  combination  may  be  looked  upon 
 as  among  the  most  remarkable  effects  of  provi- 
 dential wisdom. 
 
CHAPTER  XV. 
 
 THE  SEPTUAGINT. 
 
 The  periods  of  the  patriarchal  generations  have 
 been  hitherto  overlooked  by  the  commentators. 
 But  it  will  be  found,  that  they  constitute  a  series 
 of  predictions  of  an  entirely  new  order ;  a  great 
 chronological  prophecy,  of  the  most  accurate, 
 graphic,  and  consecutive  kind. 
 
 Among  the  minor  advantages  of  this  view,  is 
 the  elucidation  of  that  singularly  controverted  and 
 important  question,  the .  comparative  validity  of 
 the  Septuagint  and  Hebrew  computations.  On 
 the  revival  of  literature,  and  the  renewed  attention 
 of  Europe  to  the  Scriptures,  unlimited  reliance 
 was  placed  on  the  Hebrew  text ;  and  its  dates 
 especially  were  adopted  as  incontestible.  Subse- 
 quent inquiry,  however,  showed  that  those  dates  in- 
 adequately corresponded  with  the  order  of  events  ; 
 and  a  sufficient  cause  for  the  corruption  was  at 
 length  discovered  in  the  tampering  of  the  Jewish 
 doctors  with  the  original. — (Hales's  Chron.  vol.  i.) 
 
 According  to  tlie  Hebrew  copies,  the  years  from 
 7 
 
THE    SEPTUAGINT.  223 
 
 the  Creation  to  the  Deluge  are  1656  ;  according 
 to  the  Septuagint  they  are  2262,  This  extraordi- 
 nary difference  is  thus  accounted  for.  The  Cab- 
 balists,  whose  fantastic  theory  turns  chiefly  on  the 
 use  and  position  of  letters,  calculated  the  dura- 
 tion of  the  world  at  6000  years,  (with  a  seventh 
 Chiliad  for  the  Sabbath,)  from  finding  the  letter 
 Aleph  (which  stands  for  1000)  six  times  in  the 
 first  verse  of  Genesis.  They  further  assumed  that 
 the  Messiah  was  to  come  in  the  middle  of  the  last 
 thousand.  In  the  declining  days  of  Judaism  those 
 absurdities  usurped  the  place  of  knowledge,  and 
 it  became  a  national  argument,  peculiarly  after 
 the  death  of  our  Lord,  that  he  had  come  earlier 
 than  the  true  Messiah  could  have  come.  The  East- 
 ern Jews,  by  cutting  off  600  years  from  the  ante- 
 diluvian period,  threw  back  his  birth  into  the  fifth 
 Chiliad  ;  the  Western  Jews  pushed  the  expedient 
 still  further,  and  by  cutting  off  540  more,  threw  it 
 into  the  fourth ;  the  former  dating  the  Creation 
 B.  c.  4220,  the  latter  b.  c.  3760.  And  this  rude 
 and  palpable  artifice  was  a  sufficient  subterfuge 
 for  the  wilful  prejudices  of  a  people  distracted  by 
 national  ruin,  "scattered  and  peeled,"  without 
 leisure  to  think  or  learn,  and,  in  the  general  be- 
 reaving of  all  things  else,  clinging  with  a  bitter 
 and  desperate  fidelity  to  their  patrimonial  errors. 
 
 But  in  earlier  times  no  difference  had  existed 
 between  the  Hebrew  and  the.  Septuagint.  If  there 
 ever  was  a  human  work  which   from  the  circum- 
 
224  THE    SEPTUAGINT. 
 
 stances  of  its  production  and  use  might  be  deemed 
 authentic  in  the  hio;hest  deo;ree,  it  was  that  cele- 
 brated  translation.  It  was  made  at  the  formal 
 request  of  the  powerful  and  allied  sovereign  of 
 Egypt,  and  made  from  a  copy  officially  sent  by 
 the  High  Priest,  and  committed  to  the  ablest  trans- 
 lators w^ho  were  to  be  found  in  the  Jewish  people  \ 
 Its  appearance  was  received  with  national  joy ; 
 it  was  the  chief  form  in  which  the  Scriptures  w'ere 
 offered  to  the  Gentile  world  ;  it  rapidly  superseded 
 the  Hebrew  in  all  the  foreign  synagogues ;  it 
 became  the  chief  authority  in  Judea  itself,  when, 
 by  the  vicissitudes  of  time,  the  original  language 
 ceased  to  be  spoken ;  it  was  quoted  by  our  Lord, 
 and  is  constantly  referred  to  by  the  early  Fathers. 
 No  shade  was  ever  cast  upon  its  authority,  until 
 the  Jewish  doctors  found  themselves  beaten  down 
 by  the  prophecies  of  the  Messiah.  The  text  of 
 the  Septuagint  was  beyond  their  reach  ;  but  their 
 guilty  dexterity  was  exerted  to  degrade  its  authen- 
 ticity. They  first  made  it  a  national  abhorrence, 
 by  binding  on  every  man  of  their  people  an  inter- 
 dict against  its  perusal,  and  instituting  a  solemn 
 fast  on  the  8th  day  of  the  month  Tebeth,  to  curse 
 the  memory  of  its  having  been  written  !  But  the 
 Septuagint  was  in  the  hands  of  the  world,  and 
 could  be  affected  only  by  a  rival  version.     The 
 
 '  Bp.  Walton's  Prol.  c.  9,  &c.  Voss.  de  70  Interp.  Other 
 statements  have  been  given  ;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the 
 early  celebrity  and  universal  acceptance,  of  the  Septuagint. 
 
THE    SEPTUAGINT.  225 
 
 measure  was  actively  adopted  :  no  less  than  three 
 versions,  for  the  purpose  of  degrading  its  general 
 character,  were  successively  made. 
 
 The    first   was    by  Aquila    (about  a.  d.  128.). 
 Aquila  was  fit   for  fraud.     He  had  been  first  a 
 Pagan  priest,   then  a   nominal  Christian,   then  a 
 Jew.     Thus  heathen,  convert,  and  apostate,  he  is 
 openly  cliarged  by  Epiphanius  with  having  con- 
 structed his  version  with  the  direct  intent  of  "in- 
 validating the    testimonies   concerning    Christ." 
 The   Jews    are   alike    openly   charged  by  Justin 
 Martyr'  with  altering,  and  even  expunging  those 
 prophecies  from  the  copies  of  the  Septuagint  in 
 their  synagogues.    But,  for  the  purpose  of  exclud- 
 mg  the  ancient  version  altogether,  another,   more 
 nearly  resembling  its  gravity  and  idiom,  was  made 
 (about  A.  D.  185)   by  Symmachus,    whom  Jerome 
 calls  "a  Jew  and  a  blasphemer.''     A   third  was 
 made    by   Theodotion,    whose  translation   of  the 
 Book    of  Daniel   is  now   used  by    the   Christian 
 Church,   that   book  having  been  lost  in  the  Sep- 
 tuagmtl     But  the   Hebrew   copies  being  almost 
 totally  in  their  power,  at  a  time  when  the  language 
 had  long  ceased  to  be  spoken,  and  the  nation  and 
 Its  literature  were  equally  lost  to  the   observation 
 of  mankind,  that  shorter  computation  of  the  lives 
 
 '  Dialogues  with  Trypho. 
 
 '  Some  fragments  of  it  were  discovered  about  a.  d.  1772.— 
 Le  Long.  B.  S. 
 
 Q 
 
22G  THE    SEPTUAGINT. 
 
 of  the  ante-diluvians  was  inserted,  which  to  the 
 Jews  was  thenceforth  to  form  a  satisfactory  argu- 
 ment against  the  mission  of  our  Lord. 
 
 The  first  instances  of  this  corruption  began  as 
 early  as  a.  d.  128,  for  it  was  sanctioned  by  the 
 Seder  01am  Rabba,  the  Jewish  system  of  chrono- 
 logy written  by  Rabbi  Jose,  under  the  auspices  of 
 the  celebrated  Rabbi  Akiba.  Yet  it  made  little 
 progress,  for  Eusebius  (who  died  a.  d.  340) 
 "  found  in  the  Hebrew  copies  which  he  consulted, 
 different  accounts  of  the  times,  some  following  the 
 longer,  others  the  shorter  computation."  Tlieir 
 contrivance  for  moulding  the  age  of  the  world, 
 was  by  taking  a  century  from  some  of  the  genera- 
 tions, and  adding  it  to  the  residue  of  the  lives  ; 
 thus  diminishing  the  length  of  the  series,  while 
 they  preserved  the  individual  longevity.  An  ad- 
 ditional evidence  of  the  corruption  is  to  be  found 
 in  their  management  of  the  later  lives.  If  the 
 hundred  years  had  been  abstracted  from  the  gene- 
 rations of  Jared,  Methuselah,  and  Lamech,  their 
 deaths  must  have  been  placed  after  the  Deluge — 
 Jared  66  years,  Methuselah  200,  and  Lamech  95. 
 They  therefore  left  those  generations  as  they  were. 
 It  subsequently  became  habitual  to  make  altera- 
 tions in  the  genealogies,  according  to  the  conve- 
 nience of  the  moment.  The  Samaritan  Penta- 
 teuch has  changed  the  years  of  the  generations 
 several  times  since  the  days  of  Origen  (a.  d. 
 230.) 
 
THE  SEPTUAGINT.  227 
 
 The  weight  of  authority  now  lies  on  the  side  of 
 the  Septuagint,  or  computation  which  gives  the 
 longer  periods,  (generally  about  a  hundred  vears 
 additional,)  to  the  generations  of  the  patriarchs, 
 as  the  true  transcript  of  the  Hebrew  original. 
 Still,  as  in  all  matters  which  rest  upon  authority, 
 the  opposite  side  finds  champions ;  and  the  only 
 hope  of  a  final  decision  must  rest  in  the  discovery 
 of  some  authentic  evidence  that  the  one  cor- 
 responds with  Scripture,  while  the  other  fails  in 
 the  correspondence.  If  the  following  view  of  the 
 patriarchal  generations  be  established,  this  most 
 important  question  in  chronology  is  decided,  and 
 the  Septuagint  computation  is  the  true  one. 
 
 q2 
 
CHAPTER    XVI. 
 
 THE  ANTE-DILUVIAN  PATRIARCHS. 
 
 It  will  be  shown  that  a  direct  connection,  an 
 exact  and  unbroken  parallelism,  is  maintained 
 between  the  patriarchal  periods  from  Seth  to 
 Abraham,  and  the  periods  of  the  Jewish  and 
 Christian  history  ; — that  not  merely  the  periods 
 retain  an  exact  coincidence,  but  that  even  the 
 names  of  the  patriarchs  are  descriptive  of  the  cha- 
 racters of  the  corresponding  periods  in  the  Jewish 
 annals  ; — and,  in  fact,  that  the  whole  of  the  ante- 
 diluvian and  post-diluvian  record,  down  to  the 
 calling  of  Abraham,  is  not  merely  a  history,  in 
 the  proper  sense  of  the  word,  but  also  an  actual 
 series  of  prophecy. 
 
 By  taking  the  Deluge  and  the  fall  of  Jerusalem 
 (a.  d.  70)  as  corresponding  points  in  the  patri- 
 archal and  Jewish  dispensations,  (a  correspond- 
 ence to  which  the  mind  is  naturally  led  alike  by 
 the  circumstances,  and  by  the  allusions  in  the 
 Evangelists),  and  tracing  the  series  of  the  patri- 
 archs upivards,  their  births  will  stand  opposite  to 
 
THE  ANTE-DILUVIAN   PATRIARCHS.  229 
 
 the  dates  of  Jewish  history  in  the  following  list. 
 The  patriarchal  dates  are  from  the  Septuagint. 
 The  Jewish  dates  are  from  the  chronology  in- 
 serted (chiefly  from  Usher)  in  our  Bibles,  which 
 has  thus  received  the  sanction  of  the  Church,  and 
 is  unshaken  in  all  its  more  important  points  from 
 Abraham  downwards.  In  this  part  there  could 
 have  been  no  object  in  the  corruption  of  the  text, 
 and  it  has  remained  pure.  The  system  proposed 
 by  Hales,  when  he  loses  sight  of  the  Septuagint, 
 seems  too  gratuitous  to  be  relied  on. 
 
 The  Patriarchal  Generations. 
 
 Seth     .     .     .     205,  corresponding  to  b.  c.   1962  ' 
 Enos    ...     190 1757 
 
 *  The  only  difficulty  lies  in  the  instance  of  Abraham,  we 
 having  no  Scriptural  evidence  of  his  age  at  the  time  of  his  first 
 call  (Acts  vii.  2)  from  Ur  of  the  Chaldees.  He  was  seventy- 
 five  years  old  when  he  received  his  second  call  and  departed 
 from  Haran,  which  Usher  fixes  at  b.  c.  1922.  If  he  had  re- 
 ceived the  original  call  forty  years  before,  which  is  not  more 
 improbable  than  that  Moses  should  have  been  impelled  into  the 
 desert,  doubtless  by  the  Divine  will,  and  have  abandoned  the 
 Egyptian  court  forty  years  before  he  became  a  declared  instru- 
 ment in  the  Divine  hand,  this  would  bring  the  date  of  his  first 
 emigration  to  b.  c.  1962  ;  the  period  corresponding  to  that  of 
 the  commencement  of  the  generation  of  Shem.  But  the  sub- 
 sequent periods  are  matters  of  more  accurate  knowledge. 
 
 The  value  of  the  evidence  is  to  be  found  in  its  general 
 view,  in  the  extraordinary  coincidence  which  prevails  through 
 the  entire  of  both  series,  and  in  the  striking  application  of  the 
 
230  THE  ANTE-DILUVIAN  PATRIARCHS. 
 
 Cainan      .     .  170,  corresponding  to  b.  c.  1567 
 
 Mehalalech     .165 1397 
 
 Jared  .     .     .  162 1232 
 
 Enoch       .     .  165 1070 
 
 Methuselah    .  187 905 
 
 Lamech    .     .  188 718 
 
 Noah  to  the")  The  fall  of  Jem--) 
 
 Deluge       .  j  ^^0«  salemA.i,.70J  ^S^+^O 
 
 Seth. 
 
 The  name  of  Seth  is  interpreted  The  Ap- 
 pointed.  The  period  of  his  generation  is  205 
 years.  In  the  corresponding  205  years  of  the 
 Jewish  history  (from  b.  c.  1962  to  1757),  Abra- 
 ham is  called  from  Ur  of  the  Chaldees  ;  he  is 
 again  called  in  his  75th  year ;  and  he  enters  into 
 covenant  with  God,  and  is  appointed  the  father  of 
 
 patriarchal  names  to  the  fortunes  of  the  corresponding  periods  of 
 Judea.  Four  or  five  years,  more  or  less,  are  nothing  in  a  scale 
 of  hundreds,  peculiarly  in  the  general  difficulty  existing  as  to 
 the  exact  dates,  in  all  the  chronological  systems. 
 
 The  providential  reason  why  Seth  is  placed  at  the  head  of  the 
 Ante-diluvian  Church  seems  to  be,  that  he  was  given,  as  Eve 
 declares,  "instead  of  Abel  whom  Cain  slew"— a  substitute  for 
 the  former  head  of  the  line  in  which  the  Messiah  was  to  come. 
 Cain  was  lost,  and  for  this  purpose  non-existent.  Adam, 
 though  the  universal  progenitor,  had  been  made  for  the  head  of 
 the  Paradisaic  Church,  probably  a  state  of  things  essentially  dif- 
 ferent— a  state  of  unsinning  obedience,  a  Church  tvithout  sacri- 
 fice. Of  him  we  hear  no  more.  Seth  was  the  head  of  the 
 Church  of  sacrifice. 
 
THE  ANTE-DILUVIAN  PATRIARCHS.  231 
 
 the  chosen  people,  head  of  the  Church  on  earth, 
 and  progenitor  of  the  Messiah.  His  whole  career, 
 and  that  of  his  son  Isaac,  the  child  of  promise, 
 is  marked  by  an  especial  appointment  for  planting 
 the  Church  in  the  world. 
 
 Enos  (Despairing) — a  period  of  190  years. 
 
 From  B.  c.  1757  to  1567.— In  1760  Jacob  begins 
 his  pilgrimage  by  flying  into  Mesopotamia  to 
 escape  the  resentment  of  his  brother.  His  whole 
 life  is  marked  with  trouble.  "  Few  and  evil  have 
 the  years  of  my  life  been,"  is  his  own  description 
 towards  its  close.  But  his  descendants  fall  into 
 still  deeper  trial.  The  concluding  years  of  the 
 period  find  them  in  the  Egyptian  captivity,  the 
 people  broken,  the  worship  suspended,  the  na- 
 tional characteristics  slavery  and  despair. 
 
 Cain  AN — (possession) — a  period  of  170  years. 
 
 From  B.  c.  1567  to  1397.— In  1571  Moses  is 
 born,  to  become  the  future  deliverer  of  Israel. 
 He  rescues  the  people  from  their  slavery,  re- 
 establishes the  Church,  and  leads  the  nation  to 
 the  conquest  of  Canaan  ;  of  which  his  successor, 
 under  the  direct  guidance  of  Heaven,  puts  them 
 
232  THE  ANTE-DILUVIAN  PATRIARCHS. 
 
 in  possession.     The  close  of  the  period  completes 
 the  triumphs  of  Joshua, 
 
 Mahaleel — (praising  God) — a  period  of  165 
 years. 
 
 From  B.  c.  1397  to  1232.— In  1405  Othniel 
 begins  the  line  of  the  Judges  after  Joshua. 
 During  this  period  the  fortunes  of  the  nation  are 
 diversified.  They  fall  into  partial  idolatries,  and 
 are  scourged  by  partial  punishments.  But  the 
 general  commonwealth  is  prosperous,  a  succession 
 of  leaders  are  raised  by  Heaven,  who  repel  the 
 national  enemies  :  the  great  characteristic  of  the 
 period  is  the  prevalence  of  religion.  The  govern- 
 ment is  the  theocracy.  God  is  the  acknowledged 
 Sovereign  of  the  nation.  Israel  is  memorable 
 among  nations  for  its  praise  of  God.  The  period 
 closes  with  the  usurpation  of  Abimelech,  the  be- 
 ginning of  an  evil  time, — the  first  violation  of  the 
 theocracy. 
 
 Jared.     {Descending)  a  period  of  162  years. 
 
 From  B.  c.  1232  to  1070.  In  this  year  the 
 government  of  the  Judges  is  resumed,  Abimelech 
 having  been  slain  the  year  before.  But,  the  whole 
 period  is  one  of  national  decline.  The  Israelites 
 are  delivered,  for  their  growing  corruptions,  into 
 
THE    ANTE-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS.  233 
 
 the  hands  of  the  Philistines.  The  Israelite  armies 
 are  defeated,  and  the  Ark  is  taken.  The  theocracy 
 ends ;  and  the  period  closes  with  the  harassed  reign 
 of  Saul,  of  whom  God  says  to  Israel,  "  I  gave  thee 
 a  King  in  mine  anger,  and  took  him  away  in  my 
 wrath  \" 
 
 Enoch  {Dedicated),  a  period  of  165  years. 
 
 From  B.C.  io7o  to  905. — In  1063  Samuel  is 
 sent  to  Bethlehem  to  anoint  David,  as  Kins-. 
 Israel  suddenly  recovers  its  strength,  on  the  cessa- 
 tion of  idolatry  ;  and  conquers  the  whole  of  the 
 promised  land  for  the  first  time.  David  ascends 
 the  throne,  and  proposes  to  build  the  temple.  In 
 1012  Solomon  lays  the  foundation  of  the  temple, 
 and  in  1004  celebrates  its  dedication,  the  glory  of 
 the  Lord  descending  to  declare  its  acceptance  : 
 the  period  extends  to  Jehoshaphat,  who,  overthrow- 
 ing the  Pagan  altars,  renews  the  general  worship 
 of  the  Lord. 
 
 Methuselah  {Sending  death),  a  period  of  187 
 years. 
 
 From  B.C.  905  to  718. — This  period  compre- 
 hends the  decline  and  ruin  of  the  kingdom  of 
 Israel.  About  906  the  miracle  of  Elijah's  sacri- 
 fice  was  given   as   a   warning  to  the    idolatrous 
 
 '  Hosea  xiii.  10. 
 
234  THE    ANTE-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS. 
 
 nation  and  their  King  Ahab.  In  721  the  captivity 
 of  Hosea  and  the  ten  tribes  hy  Shalmanezer  began. 
 This  calamity  wasfoial. 
 
 Lamech  (Stricken),  a  period  of  182  years. 
 
 From  B.C.  718  to  530. — This  period  compre- 
 hends the  moral  decline,  the  successive  overthrow, 
 and  the  Babylonish  captivity  of  the  kingdom  of 
 Judah.  In  1713  the  war  began,  by  the  invasion 
 of  Sennacherib,  who  desolated  the  territory.  After 
 successive  invasions,  Jerusalem  was  taken  by 
 Nebuchadnezzar,  the  people  were  borne  into  Assy- 
 rian bondage,  and  the  land  was  given  to  strangers. 
 The  ruin  was  complete,  yet  not  fiial.  At  the 
 close  of  the  period,  an  extraordinary  deliverance 
 was  to  come. 
 
 Noah  {the  Comforter),  a  period  of  600  years. 
 
 From  B.C.  530  to  a.d.  7o. — The  name  of  Noah 
 was  declared  to  be  prophetic.  It  was  given  by 
 Lamech  to  his  son,  in  the  knowledge,  that  in 
 his  time  there  should  be  given  a  i^est  to  the  people 
 of  God.  "  He  shall  cortfort  us  concerning  our 
 work  and  toil  of  our  hands,  because  of  the  ground 
 which  the  Lord  hath  cursed  \  In  536  the  for- 
 tunes of  the  captive  people  underwent  one  of  the 
 
 •  Gen.  V.  29. 
 
THE    ANTE-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS.  235 
 
 most  memorable  changes  in  history.  In  that  year 
 the  famous  decree  of  Cyrus  was  issued,  by  which 
 they  were  restored  to  their  country,  and  em- 
 powered to  rebuild  their  temple.  The  general 
 character  of  this  period  was  that  of  a  renewal  of 
 national  strength.  Judaea  was  a  bond  slave  no 
 longer,  her  polity  was  restored,  her  temple  was 
 rebuilt,  and  before  the  close  of  the  period,  the 
 Messiah,  the  ancient  and  prophetic  hope  of  Israel, 
 and  mankind,  was  born. 
 
 But  the  exactness  of  the  correspondence  in  the 
 two  series  is  still  more  remarkably  exhibited  in 
 this  instance.  Shem,  that  Son  of  Noah,  who  was 
 to  be  the  head  of  the  chosen  line,  was  born  a 
 hundred  years  before  the  deluge.  The  name  is 
 interpreted  Renown.  It  will  be  observed  that  the 
 most  striking  portion  of  the  corresponding  six  hun- 
 dred years  is  that  included  within  the  last  hundred. 
 Judaea  had  been  harassed  by  faction  and  war,  to 
 the  verge  of  ruin  the  century  before.  The  ra- 
 vages of  Epiphanes  and  Eupator  had  apparently 
 dried  up  the  last  sources  of  the  national  strencth. 
 Jerusalem  had  subsequently  been  captured  by  tha 
 Romans,  and  the  nation  made  tributary.  Yet,  at 
 the  commencement  of  the  final  century  of  national 
 existence,  Judaea  started  up  into  a  sudden  dignity 
 and  splendour  unequalled  from  the  days  of  Solomon. 
 In  B.  c.  37,  Herod  was  put  in  full  possession  of 
 his  kingdom ;  and,  defeating  all  his  rivals,  and 
 reconciling  the  powerful  interest  of  Rome,  began  a 
 
236  THE    ANTE-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS. 
 
 career  of  singular  prosperity.  He  gave  the  country 
 an  established  rank  once  more.  He  was  amons:  the 
 wealthiest,  most  powerful,  and  most  magnificent 
 princes  of  his  time.  But  the  great  feature  of  his 
 fame  was  the  rebuilding,  or  rather  the  new  erec- 
 tion, of  the  Temple.  This  was  a  source  of  indivi- 
 dual honour  which  might  have  been  envied  by 
 all  the  Jewish  kings  since  its  first  founder.  It 
 was  a  peculiar  source  of  national  pride,  and  made 
 the  name  of  Herod  and  his  country  conspicuous 
 throughout  the  world.  But  that  Temple  was  also 
 the  source  of  a  still  higher  national  honour  :  it 
 saw  the  living  presence  of  Him,  whose  emblematic 
 glory  alone  had  shone  on  the  Temple  of  the  son  of 
 David.  Those  were  the  years  of  the  true  renoimi 
 of  Judah  :  external  and  acknowledged  splendour 
 to  the  eye  of  all ;  spiritual  lustre  to  the  eye  of 
 those  who  "  waited  for  the  promise  of  Israel." 
 
 But  the  correspondence  is  not  limited  to  this 
 outline.  In  the  degenerate  day  of  the  sons  of 
 Seth,  a  Divine  warning  had  been  given,  that 
 long-suftering  was  exhausted,  and  that  there  would 
 be  an  end  of  their  existence,  within  a  hundred 
 and  twenty  years.  It  will  be  found  that  a  similar 
 warning  was  given  to  the  Jews  in  their  degenerate 
 day.  In  the  year  b.c.  63,  Jerusalem  was,  for 
 the  first  time,  captured  by  the  Romans,  under 
 Pompey,  exactly  one  hundred  and  twenty-three 
 years  before  the  day  of  its  final  war  (reckoning 
 from  the  tumult  in  Ceesarea,  a.d.  60,  which  was 
 
THE    ANTE-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS.  237 
 
 the  origin  of  the  war).     Nothing  could  he  more 
 fitted  to  awake  the  Jew  to  his  fate.     The  determi- 
 nation of  Rome  to  possess  universal  empire,  was 
 fully  known  ;  the  Jewish  nation  once  in  its  grasp, 
 was  sure  to  be  finally  extinguished  in  the  general 
 mass  of  Roman  power.     That  grasp  was  rapidly 
 tightened  on  Judsea,  and  the  Jew  saw  the  inde- 
 pendence  of  his  country  sinking  hour  by  hour, 
 into  the  hands  of  that  people,  whom  their  "  strange 
 speech,"  so  alien  to  the  Oriental  ear,  their  inve- 
 terate and  repulsive  idolatry,  their  habitual  love 
 of  the  sword,  and  their  severe  extortion,  stamped 
 as  the  final  destroyer  declared  in  the  prophecies  ; 
 as  the  conquerors  more  sweeping  and  remorseless 
 than  Babylon,  to  avenge  crimes  deeper  than  those 
 which  had  broken  the  strength  of  Judah  before 
 the  cavalry  and  chariots  of  the  great  Eastern  in- 
 vaders ;  as  the  fixers  of  that  chain  which  was  to 
 fasten  the  neck  of  Judah  to  the  ground,  in  a  cap- 
 tivity reckoned,  not  by  years,  but  ages. 
 
 The  building  of  the  ark  for  the  preservation  of 
 the  patriarchal  family,   was  a  peculiar  feature  of 
 the  last  daj^s  of  the  ante-diluvian  world.   The  last 
 days  of  Judah  witnessed  a  not  less  peculiar  and 
 literal   preservation    of    the    small    household    of 
 faith,  the  few  who  adhered  to  the  true  worship  of 
 Israel.     Forty  years  before  the   catastrophe,  the 
 whole  Jewish  people  were  earnestly  appealed  to, 
 to  escape  from  the  impending  danger.    A  prophet 
 was  sent  to  command  the  nation  "  to  flee  from  the 
 
 7 
 
238  THE    ANTE-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS. 
 
 wrath  to  come,"  temporal  as  well  as  eternal.  The 
 appeal  was  listened  to  with  general  interest,  yet 
 soon  forgotten.  An  ark,  the  Christian  Church, 
 was  next  built  before  their  eyes,  and  the  declara- 
 tion solemnly  made,  that,  to  all  who  entered  it,  it 
 should  be  a  place  of  perfect  safety ;  that  "  not  a 
 hair  of  their  heads  should  perish."  The  promise 
 was  kept  to  the  letter.  Those  who  entered  it 
 were  saved,  in  body,  as  in  spirit.  Amid  the 
 general  ruin  which  overwhelmed  the  nation,  the 
 individuals  who  took  shelter  in  the  Church  of  the 
 Gospel,  the  Christians,  were  carried  secure  through 
 this  new  deluge  of  fire  and  sword ;  and,  when  the 
 devastation  was  done,  were  sent  forth  to  be  the 
 spiritual  regenerators  of  the  world. 
 
CHAPTER    XVII. 
 
 THE  POST-DILUVIAN  PATRIARCHS. 
 
 The  coincidence  of  the  post-diluvian  generations 
 with  the  events  of  the  similar  periods  in  European 
 history,  is  sustained  with  equal  clearness.  Ar- 
 phaxad,  the  son  of  Shem,  was  born  two  years 
 after  the  deluge  (corresponding  to  a.d.  72).  The 
 deluge  and  the  fall  of  Jerusalem  being  still  taken 
 as  corresponding  events,  his  generation,  or  the 
 period  between  his  birth  and  that  of  his  first- 
 born, is,  by  the  Septuagint,  135  years  ;  bringing 
 the  close  of  the  period,  in  the  corresponding  series, 
 to  A.  D.  207  ;   and  so  of  the  rest  :— 
 
 Arphaxad 
 
 Salah 
 
 Eber 
 
 Peleg 
 
 Reu    . 
 
 Serug 
 
 Nahor 
 
 Terah 
 
 135  years,  corresponding  to  a.  d.  207 
 
 130 337 
 
 134 471 
 
 130 601 
 
 132 733 
 
 130 863 
 
 79 942 
 
 70       .     , 1012 
 
 With  the  period  of  Terah,  the  old  dispensation 
 
240  THE  rOST-DILUVIAN  PATRIARCHS. 
 
 is  closed ;  and  the  new,  under  the  appohitment 
 of  Ahraham,  begins. 
 
 Arphaxad  (^Ae  healer),  a  period  of  135  years. 
 
 From  A.D.  72  to  207. — The  first  two  centuries 
 of  the  Christian  era  exhibited  the  successful  struo-- 
 gles  of  Christianity  ;  especially  when,  by  the  fall 
 of  the  Jewish  nation,  its  most  inveterate  antagonists 
 were  disabled.  The  period  was  in  general  a  time 
 of  persecution,  but  of  persecution  which  at  once 
 invigorated  the  zeal  and  purified  the  tenets  of  the 
 Christian.  After  the  capture  of  Jerusalem,  con- 
 version had  begun  its  full  course  ;  and  the  Church, 
 under  all  its  trials,  spread  through  the  empire  '. 
 The  religion,  whose  especial  and  prophetic  cha- 
 racter it  was,  to  come  with  healing  on  its  icings, 
 the  "  healer  of  the  broken-hearted  and  the  deliverer 
 of  such  as  were  bound/'  now  passed  the  limits  of 
 the  empire,  and  was  preached  through  the  ends  of 
 the  earth.  Paganism  was  palpably  perishing  before 
 it,  and  nothing  but  the  violent  opposition  of  the 
 Pagan  emperors,  and  the  strong  interests  con- 
 nected with  the  support  of  the  Pagan  hierarchy, 
 
 '  "  Before  the  close  of  the  second  century,  Christ  was  wor- 
 shipped as  God  almost  throughout  the  whole  East,  as  also 
 among  the  Germans,  Spaniards,  Celts,  Britons,  and  many  other 
 nations.  The  writers  of  this  century  attribute  this  rapid  pro- 
 gress of  Christianity  to  the  power  of  God.''  (Moshcim  i.  135.) 
 
THE  POST-DILUVIAN  PATRIARCHS.  24  [ 
 
 were  capable  of  checking  its  immediate  progress 
 to  the  full  possession  of  the  national  mind. 
 
 Salah'  (Mksion),  a  period  of  130  years. 
 
 From  A.D.  207  to  337.— This  period,  reaching 
 from  the  commencement  of  the  third  century,  the 
 reign  of  Severus,  to  nearly  the  middle  of  the 
 fourth,  comprehends  the  great  triumph  of  Christ- 
 ianity.    The  vigorous  domination  of  Severus  had 
 
 '  The  Septuagint  is  followed  in  the  entire  of  the  series,  except 
 in  this  instance.  It  places  a  second  Cainan  between  Arphaxad 
 and  Salah.  But  this  Cainan  is  considered  by  Hales,  and  the 
 important  authorities  which  he  cites,  to  be  a  mere  interpolation  ; 
 for  the  name  is  not  found  in  the  Hebrew,  which  is  an  omission 
 of  a  very  different  nature  from  the  subtraction  of  years  from  a 
 name  acknowledged  by  both  the  original  and  the  translarion. 
 It  is  not  mentioned  in  the  chronologies  of  Philo  or  Josephus,  nor 
 byTheophilus  of  Antioch,  in  his  list  of  the  post-diluvian  Pa- 
 triarchs, nor  by  Origen,  Eusebius,  Jerome,  nor  even  by  the 
 Septuagint  itself  in  its  repetition  of  the  genealogies.  (1  Chronic 
 1.  24.) 
 
 We  are  fuUy  warranted  to  conclude,  from  this  combination  of 
 evidence,  that  the  second  Cainan  was  not  originally  in  the 
 Hebrew,  nor  in  the  Septuagint  (Hales).  Its  interpolation  is 
 referred  by  Gregory  of  Oxford  to  the  artifices  of  the  Chiliasts. 
 The  mtroduction  of  the  name  into  the  genealogy  in  St.  Luke 
 is,  of  course,  equally  an  interpolation.  But  the  perfect  coinci- 
 dence  of  the  series  in  its  present  state  with  the  corresponding 
 penods  of  the  Christian  era,  may  be  entitled  to  decide  the  ques- 
 tion  of  authority,  and  establish  the  omission  of  the  name. 
 
 R 
 
242  THE  POST-DILUVIAN  PATRIARCHS. 
 
 restored  the  fortunes  of  the  empire  ;  but  the  resto- 
 ration seemed  only  to  provide  strength  for  its 
 endurance  of  a  series  of  civil  convulsions,  un- 
 equalled in  the  wildest  times  of  history.  From 
 his  death  in  a.d.  222  to  the  close  of  the  century 
 the  whole  empire  was  torn  by  furious  factions,  and 
 competitors  for  the  throne.  Paganism  was  signa- 
 lizing her  last  struggles  by  inflicting  havoc  on 
 mankind.  The  Church,  the  great  Mission,  com- 
 manded to  go  forth  and  convert  all  nations,  was 
 fiercely  persecuted  ;  but  it  still  advanced,  until 
 in  A.D.  306,  a  succession  of  victories,  the  last  of 
 which  was  gained  under  the  actual  banner  of  the 
 cross,  placed  Constantine  on  the'throne,  and  estab- 
 lished Christianity  as  the  religion  of  the  civilized 
 world.  The  death  of  Constantine,  in  a.d.  337, 
 closed  the  period. 
 
 Eber  (passage),  a  period  of  134  years. 
 
 From  a.d.  .337  to  471. — Constantine  had  left  an 
 universal  Church  and  an  empire  stretching  over 
 the  finest  re^fions  of  the  o-lobe.  But  an  extraordi- 
 nary  change  was  to  come,  almost  within  a  single 
 life.  The  Church  was  suddenly  torn  with  here- 
 sies ;  the  empire  was  shaken  to  its  foundations  by 
 the  first  attacks  of  the  nortliern  invaders.  All  was 
 now  passing  away  from  the  hands  of  Rome ;  the 
 Italian  provinces  were  seized  by  barbarians,  the 
 whole  empire  was  in  a  state  of  transition  into  the 
 
THE  POST-DILUVIAN  PATRIARCHS.  243 
 
 power  of  the  savages  of  Scandinavia  and  Tartary. 
 Towards  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century,  it  was 
 evidently  beyond  the  hope  of  retrieval.  In  a.d. 
 476,  the  last  Emperor  abandoned  the  throne,  and 
 the  empire  of  the  west  finally  passed  away. 
 
 Peleg  (Division),  a  period  of  130  years. 
 
 From  A.D.  471  to  601.^ — This  period  comprehends 
 the  settlement  of  the  Barbarians  in  Europe,  and 
 its  partition  among  the  various  tribes.  The  name 
 of  Peleg  had  been  given,  as  an  express  prediction, 
 that  in  his  time  the  earth  should  be  divided.  The 
 name  was  equally  applicable  to  the  corresponding 
 series.  In  the  fifth  and  sixth  centuries,  the 
 Western  Empire,  comprehending  the  chief  part 
 of  the  civilized  world,  was  dirAded  into  separate 
 sovereignties ;  and  the  Division,  in  all  its  more 
 conspicuous  parts,  has  continued  to  this  hour. 
 
 Reu  (the  Shepherd),  a  period  of  130  years. 
 
 From  A.D.  601  to  733. — To  all  human  apprehen- 
 sion. Empire  had  now  seen  its  last  change.  But 
 the  130  years,  comprehended  in  this  period,  exhi- 
 bited a  shape  of  sovereign  power  hitherto  unknown 
 to  mankind — a  Church  assuming  the  sceptre. 
 
 The  feebleness  of  the  Greek  empire  had  gra- 
 dually suffered  the  transfer  of  a  large  share  of  its 
 western  authority  into  the  hands  of  the  Bishop  of 
 
 r2 
 
244  THE  POST-DILUVIAN  PATRIARCHS. 
 
 Rome.  At  length,  on  the  question  of  removing 
 images  from  the  Romish  altars,  the  Bishop  re- 
 volted inA.D.  728,  and  commenced  the  possession 
 of  independent  sovereignty.  He  declared  himself 
 head  of  the  Church,  and  '^  Univer^sal  Shepherd,''' 
 in  right  of  St.  Peter,  to  whom  had  been  given  the 
 especial  charge — "  feed  my  sheep."  The  Roman 
 Pastor  rapidly  became  the  spiritual  monarch  of 
 the  western  world. 
 
 But  the  period  of  this  Patriarch  contains  ano- 
 ther instance  of  parallelism  of  a  not  less  memo- 
 rable kind.  About  the  seventieth  year  of  Reu  \ 
 a  tribe  of  Cushites,  idolators,  invaded  the  land  of 
 Shinaar,  made  themselves  masters  of  its  terri- 
 tory, the  inheritance  of  the  family  of  Shem  ;  and 
 at  leno;th  absorbed  them  into  their  nation.  The 
 Cushite  leader  was  Nimrod,  a  "  mighty  hunter," 
 a  man  who  had  probably  risen  to  the  chieftainship 
 by  superior  boldness  in  the  chase,  but  now  a  con- 
 queror, and  ambitious  of  building  a  city,  which 
 should  prevent  the  dispersion  of  his  tribe,  and 
 become  the  permanent  seat  of  empire.  What 
 years  his  conquest  occupied,  or  how  long  the 
 building  of  the  city  and  citadel  was  carried  on, 
 we  are  not  told  ;  but  his  project  was  frustrated  by 
 a  direct  interposition  of  Providence, — a  confusion 
 
 '  The  chronology  in  our  Bibles  places  the  building  of  Babel 
 sixteen  years  before  the  birth  of  Reu ;  but  Hales  adduces  the 
 authority  of  Abulfaragi,  and  other  sufficient  arguments,  for 
 fixing  it  at  the  date  here  given.    Vol.  ii.  43. 
 
THE    POST-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS.  245 
 
 of  tongues.  Yet,  though  the  progress  of  the  build- 
 ing was  prohibited;  the  city,  and  the  tower  which 
 was  to  rival  the  heavens,  stood  \  The  Cushite 
 empire,  already  largely  spreading  over  Asia,  soon 
 perished  ;  but  Babylon  itself  assumed  a  superiority 
 of  a  distinct  species— it  became  the  central  place 
 of  idolatry,  the  head  of  heathenism. 
 
 If  it  should  be  asked,  why  the  chosen  race, 
 the  ancestors  of  Abraham,  were  suffered  to  fall 
 under  such  a  domination  ?  the  probable  answer  is 
 to  be  found  in  those  dealings  of  Providence  with 
 them  in  later  ages,  by  which  their  tendency  to 
 idolatrous  worship,  or  national  corruption,  was 
 left  to  find  its  punishment  at  the  hands  of  idola- 
 trous invaders.  Whatever  might  be  the  source, 
 the  Arphaxadites  had  become  idolators  ^ 
 
 The  corresponding  portion  of  European  history 
 exhibits  a  complete  coincidence.  The  erection  of 
 images  on  the  Christian  altars,  had  been  stealing 
 on  the  Eastern  and  Western  Churches,  since  the 
 sixth  century.    At  length  the  Emperor  Leo  issued 
 
 '  The  Pagan  traditions  of  the  overthrow  of  Babel  by  lightnin- 
 from  heaven,   are  unsustained  by  Scripture.     All  that's  told 
 there  is-"  The   Lord  scattered  the  builders  abroad  upon  the 
 face  of  all  the  earth,  and  they  left  off  to  build  the  city.-  (Gen.  xi 
 8.)     Nothing  is  said  of  its  demolition. 
 
 ^^  ^  This  is  the  declaration  of  Joshua  to  the  people  of  Shechem. 
 Thus  saith  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  Your  fathers  dwelt  on  the 
 other  side  of  the  flood  (the  river)  in  old  time;  Terah,  the 
 father  of  Abraham,  and  the  father  of  Nahor,  and  they  served 
 other  gods."     (Josh.  xxiv.  2.) 
 
246  THE    POST-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS. 
 
 a  decree  against  the  practice  as  idolatrous.  Gre- 
 gory, the  Bishop  of  Rome,  resented  this  ordinance, 
 revolted,  convoked  a  council  of  ninety-three  bi- 
 shops, declared  himself  the  protector  of  images, 
 and  pronounced  a  general  excommunication 
 against  the  image  -  breakers,  a.d.  728.  The 
 schism  was  final. 
 
 But  another  power  was  soon  to  be  in  the  field. 
 Charles  Martel,  in  the  beginning  of  the  same  cen- 
 tury, had  laid  the  foundation  of  his  family  by  his 
 eminence  as  a  military  leader.  Gregory  the  First 
 solicited  his  assistance  against  the  Lombards. 
 Thus  the  connexion  was  formed  between  the 
 Popedom  and  the  Carlovingian  dynasty  ;  which 
 continued,  with  increasing  closeness,  until  they 
 were  all  but  identified  by  the  crowning  of  Charle- 
 magne at  Rome,  in  a.  d.  800. 
 
 In  return,  the  Emperor  gave  the  territory  of 
 the  Exarchate  to  the  Popedom  ;  thus  founding  the 
 temporal  sovereignty,  the  commencement  of  that 
 extraordinary  combination  of  spiritual  and  tem- 
 poral power,  which  claimed  the  authority  of  a 
 god  on  earth,  and  commanded  that  its  decrees 
 should  be  reverenced  as  the  Divine — the  spiritual 
 city  and  tower  were  built,  whose  height  assumed 
 to  rival  heaven.  The  empire  of  Charlemagne, 
 sanctioned  and  aided  by  the  Papal  influence, 
 now  threatened  to  absorb  the  world.  It  had 
 already  spread  over  the  West.  Charlemagne 
 ruled  at  once  Germany,  Hungary,  France,  Italy, 
 
THE    POST-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS.  247 
 
 and  Spain  :  and  no  power  existed  within  or  with- 
 out the  confines  of  Europe,  capable  of  contesting 
 his  supremacy.  Yet  this  enormous  mass  of  force 
 dissolved  away  with  the  most  memorable  rapidity. 
 After  a  short  period  of  convulsion,  the  whole 
 frame  sank,  and  within  forty  years  it  was  broken 
 up  by  a  partition  between  the  sons  of  Louis,  the 
 immediate  descendants  of  the  Emperor,  and  this 
 division  was  rendered  complete  and  perpetual  by 
 a  division  of  language ! 
 
 The  Latin  had  been  the  universal,  authorized 
 language   of  the   empire ;    and    the   Papacy,    by 
 refusing  to  suffer  its  worship  to  be  celebrated  in 
 any  other  tongue,   has,   in  all   ages,  laboured  to 
 retain   its  universality.     But  Germany,    France, 
 and  Italy,    the  three  new  sovereignties,  had  no 
 sooner  ceased  to  be  under  one  sceptre,  than  they 
 reverted    to    their   original   dialects,    or    formed 
 new,  by  their  mixture  with  the  Latin.     The  great 
 districts  of  Europe   thus  became   speedily  unin- 
 telligible to  each  other.     Europe  was  a  confusion 
 of  tongues.     The  habits,  feelings,   and  even  the 
 difficulties  of  intercourse,  growing  out  of  this  root 
 of  separation,   in  fierce  and  semi-barbarous  times 
 operated  as  a   complete  barrier   to    reunion.     It 
 has  never  been  overcome.    No  individual  has  ever 
 again  permanently  combined  the  three  countries 
 under  one  sceptre  :  the  only  two  great  efforts  in 
 modern  history  were  soon  discomfited  :  and  where 
 the  power  and  perseverance  of  Charles  the  Fifth, 
 
248  THE    POST-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS. 
 
 and  the  subtilty,  reckless  ambition,  and  fiery 
 intrepidity,  of  Napoleon,  failed  to  establish  an 
 universal  empire,  we  may  regard  it  henceforth  as 
 beyond  the  achievement  of  man. 
 
 But  while  the  empire  of  Europe  was  divided, 
 the  sovereignty  of  Rome  stood.  The  Carlovingian 
 dynasty  was  the  "  mighty  hunter,"  the  resistless 
 military  power,  which  at  the  head  of  its  armed 
 tribes  built  its  Babel  on  the  sacred  soil.  That  soil 
 had  already  deserved  the  desecration.  Rome  had 
 already  avowed  her  strongest  adherence  to  the 
 veneration  of  images.  Gregory  the  Second,  in  the 
 rescript  by  which  he  renounced  his  allegiance  to 
 the  Greek  emperor,  had  gone  to  the  extremes  of 
 the  doctrine.  "The  eyes  of  the  nations  of  the 
 West,"  was  his  astonishing  declaration,  "  revere  as 
 a  god  upon  earth '  /  the  Apostle  St.  Peter,  whose 
 image  you  threaten  to  destroy.  The  remote  and 
 interior  kingdoms  of  the  West  present  their  ho- 
 mage to  Christ  and  his  vicegerent.  The  barbarians 
 have  submitted  to  the  yoke  of  the  Gospel,  while 
 you  alone  are  deaf  to  the  voice  of  the  Shep- 
 herd," &c. 
 
 Rome,  from  that  period,  has  been  the  acknow- 
 ledged head  of  that  form  of  Christianity  which 
 places  the  images  of  the  saints  upon  its  altars. 
 
 '  The  words  are,  "  Or  ai  Trao-at  fiaaiXeiai  ttjc  BvaEtjg  ug  Osoy 
 tniyEiov  f)(oviTi.^^  The  two  Epistles  of  Gregory  have  been  pre- 
 served in  the  Acts  of  the  Nicene  Council,  vol.  iii.  p.  551.  quoted 
 by  Gibbon,  vol.  v. 
 
THE    POST-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS.  249 
 
 The  parallelism  is  sustained  in  all  its  points.  The 
 check  of  the  great  temporal  empire  was  complete; 
 it  never  advanced  after  the  building  of  the  Pope- 
 dom. It  is  also  remarkable,  that  vast  as  was  the 
 influence  of  the  Popedom,  even  to  the  extent  of 
 dethroning  kings  and  distributing  kingdoms,  its 
 progress  as  a  temporal  power  was  equally  stopped. 
 Often  grasping  fiercely  at  territory,  and  mingling 
 in  all  the  game  of  European  ambition,  it  has 
 always  remained  one  of  the  smallest  territorial 
 powers,  and  in  the  long  lapse  of  a  thousand  years, 
 has  scarcely  been  able  to  set  its  foot  beyond  its 
 original  confines. 
 
 In  all  prophecies,  what  is  unequivocally  begun 
 is  looked  on  as  complete.  The  connection  of  the 
 Popedom  with  the  Carlovingian  family,  which 
 was  carried  into  the  ninth  century,  had  unequiw- 
 cally  begun  in  the  eighth^  and  thenceforth  continued 
 unbroken  until  the  close  of  the  dynasty. 
 
 Serug  (branching),   a  period  of  130  years. 
 
 From  A.D.  733  to  863. — This  was  peculiarly  the 
 era  of  conversion.  A  sudden  desire  of  bringing 
 the  Pagans  of  the  North  and  West  within  the  pale 
 of  the  Church  sprang  up  in  the  princes  and  priest- 
 hood ;  the  impulse,  partly  honest  zeal,  partly 
 angry  policy  ;  and  the  instrument,  alternately  the 
 Scriptures  and  the  sword.  Charlemagne's  long- 
 sighted sagacity    had    seen   the   dangers    which 
 
250  THE    POST-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS. 
 
 threatened  the  coasts  of  his  empire  from  the  Baltic 
 tribes,  and  wisely  conjectured  that  the  best  secu- 
 rity for  their  adoption  of  peaceful  habits  was  their 
 receiving  Christianity.  He  sent  monks  and  bishops 
 among  them,  but  the  rudeness  and  cruelty  of  the 
 barbarians  repelled  the  efforts  of  those  missiona- 
 ries. He  followed  them  with  armies,  and  made  a 
 general  war  on  the  North  in  772.  This  unhal- 
 lowed system  of  conversion  was  continued,  though 
 with  decreasing  violence,  by  his  successors.  Yet 
 amid  much  ambition,  much  guilt,  and  much  folly, 
 there  were  strong  instances  of  genuine  zeal,  at- 
 tended by  indisputable  success.  Christianity 
 hi'ariched  out  largely  among  the  savage  tribes 
 which  still  surrounded  the  frontiers  of  the  empire. 
 The  celebrated  Boniface,  named  the  "apostle  of 
 Germany,"  established  missions  among  the  tribes 
 of  Hesse  and  Thuringia,  and  laboured  among 
 them  until  his  death,  in  755.  The  Huns  in  the 
 provinces  bordering  the  Danube,  were  partially 
 brought  to  the  baptismal  font ;  the  Bohemians  and 
 Moravians  followed  the  example.  Ansgar  and 
 Authbert  preached  the  Gospel  to  the  people  of 
 Cimbria  and  Jutland  in  826  ;  Ansgar  preached 
 to  the  Swedes  in  828,  and  finally  establishing 
 the  church  in  Denmark  and  Sweden,  concluded  a 
 life  of  indefatigable  labour  in  865.  The  Moesians 
 and  Bulgarians  were  converted  by  Methodius  and 
 Cyril,  two  Greek  monks,  sent  on  the  mission  by 
 the  Empress  Theodora.     In  the  reign  of  Basilius, 
 
THE    POST-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS.  251 
 
 Emperor  in  867,  the  Sclavonians,  Arentani,  and 
 a  part  of  Dalmatia,  sent  a  formal  embassy  to  Con- 
 stantinople, declaring  their  desire  to  embrace  Chris- 
 tianity ;  but  the  same  emperor  saw  a  still  more 
 extensive  conversion  made,  in  the  acceptance  of 
 the  Gospel  by  the  warlike,  and  even  then  powerful 
 nation  of  the  Russians,  who  but  a  short  time  before 
 had  sent  a  fleet  from  Kiow,  which  struck  terror 
 into  Constantinople. 
 
 "  It  is  proper  to  observe,"  says  Mosheim,  "  with 
 respect  to  those  various  conversions,  that  they 
 were  undertaken  upon  much  better  principles,  and 
 executed  in  a  more  pious  and  rational  manner,  than 
 those  of  the  preceding  ages.  The  ministers  who 
 were  now  sent  to  instruct  and  convert  the  barbarous 
 nations,  did  not,  like  many  of  their  predecessors, 
 employ  the  terror  of  penal  laws,  to  affright  men 
 into  the  profession  of  Christianity  :  nor,  in  es- 
 tablishing churches  on  the  ruins  of  idolatr}^,  were 
 they  principally  attentive  to  promote  the  gi^andeur, 
 and  extend  the  authority  of  the  Roman  Pontiffs. 
 Their  views  were  more  noble,  and  their  conduct 
 was  more  suitable  to  the  genius  of  the  religion 
 which  they  professed.  They  had  chiefly  in  view 
 the  happiness  of  mankind,  endeavoured  to  pro- 
 mote the  gospel  of  truth  and  peace  by  rational 
 persuasion,  and  seconded  their  arguments  by  the 
 victorious  power  of  exemplary  lives." — (Eccles. 
 History,  vol.  ii.  253.)  He  admits  that  their  doctrine 
 often  partook  of  the  general  ignorance  of  the  age. 
 
252  THE    POST-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS. 
 
 But  their  intentions  were  often  as  pure  as  their  zeal 
 was  inexhaustible.  At  the  close  of  this  period, 
 nearly  all  the  Pagan  tribes  of  Europe  possessed 
 at  least  a  general  knowledge  of  the  tenets  of  the 
 Christian  religion.  This  knowledge  had  hitherto 
 been  concentrated  round  the  cities,  and  chief 
 places  of  civilization,  it  now  shot  out  its  branches, 
 through  the  whole  barbarian  border  of  Europe. 
 
 It  might  be  presumed  that  this  work  of  peace 
 would  be  followed  by  the  general  tranquillity  and 
 prosperity  of  the  European  nations.  But  such 
 was  not  the  will  of  Heaven.  A  punishment,  fully 
 deserved,  was  first  to  be  inflicted.  The  charac- 
 teristic name  of  the  next  period  was  one  of  Divine 
 displeasure  ;  and  the  prophecy  was  fully  borne 
 out  by  the  execution. 
 
 Nahor  (angry),  a  period  of  79  years. 
 
 From  a.d.  8G3.  to  942. — This  was  peculiarly  the 
 age  of  European  suffering.  From  the  memorable 
 division  of  the  empire  under  the  sons  of  Louis  Le 
 Debonnaire,  in  a.d.  840,  a  general  decay  of  govern- 
 ment had  prevailed  through  Europe.  The  power 
 of  Charlemagne  no  longer  existing  to  restrain 
 either  his  subjects  or  his  enemies,  the  barons 
 assumed  independence,  and  used  it,  to  make  war 
 upon  each  other.  While  the  subjects  revolted, 
 the  enemies    revenged.      The   northern   nations, 
 
THE    POST-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS.  253 
 
 whom  Charlemagne  had  coerced   only  by  a  war 
 of  six  and  thirty  years,  recovered  their  vigour,  and 
 poured  down  upon  the  defenceless  shores  of  the 
 west  and  south.     The  Danish  and  Scandinavian 
 pirates   swept  the  seas.     The   Normans  ravaged 
 the  interior,  and  in  a.d.  918,  had  already  formed 
 settlements    in   Italy,    Sicily,    and  France.      The 
 scenes  of  rapine  which  followed   the  fall  of  the 
 Roman  Empire,   seemed   to  be  renewed   by  the 
 incursions  which  had  thus  followed  the  division  of 
 the  Empire  of  Charlemagne.     "  Those  were  times 
 of  great    misery  to  the  world,   and  perhaps  the 
 worst  that  Europe  has  ever  known  \"     Germany, 
 Gaul,  and  Britain  were  ravaged  by  them.     The 
 impetuous  fury  of  those  savages  not  only  spread 
 devastation  through  the   Spanish  provinces,   but 
 penetrated    into  the  heart  of  Italy.     An  equally 
 savage    enemy,    the    Saracens,    who    had    seized 
 Sicdy  in  827,   about  the  commencement  of  this 
 period   invaded  the   south    of  Europe'.     A   new 
 army  of  those  enemies  to  Europe  and  Christianity 
 poured  from  Asia  into  the  provinces  and  islands 
 of  the   south,    and   ravaged   up   to  the   walls  of 
 Rome.     The  scourge  was  heavily  laid  on  ;   but  it 
 was    amply   deserved    by   the    wilful    ignorance, 
 boundless  profligacy,   and  lavish  and  audacious 
 superstition,  of  the  era.    The  veneration  of  saints, 
 and   the    invention  of  new  forms   of  homage  to 
 
 •  Hallam.  Hist.  Midd.  Ages.  '  Mosheim,  vol.  ii.  254. 
 
254  THE    POST-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS. 
 
 relics,  flourished  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  all 
 public  life  was  war  and  treason,  and  all  private 
 life  licentiousness  and  perfidy.  To  man,  society 
 must  have  seemed  on  the  point  of  ruin  ;  but  the 
 prediction  had  been  uttered  three  thousand  years 
 before,  which  declared  it  to  be  on  the  point  of 
 restoration. 
 
 Terah  (breathing),  a  period  of  70  years. 
 
 From  A.  D.  942  to  1012. — The  preceding  period 
 was  the  midnight  of  the  dark  ages.  The  whole 
 Christian  world  lay  in  a  state  of  the  most  extra- 
 ordinary desolation.  The  Scriptures  had  nearly 
 disappeared.  At  long  intervals,  in  the  9th  cen- 
 tury, some  remarkable  men,  Claude  of  Turin  and 
 others,  had  protested  against  the  errors  of  the  na- 
 tional worship ;  but  it  was  not  till  the  tenth  that 
 the  protest  bore  a  permanent  form.  In  the  middle 
 of  that  century,  the  Paulicians,  a  sect  who  pro- 
 fessed to  take  the  Bible  alone  as  their  guide,  ap- 
 peared in  the  West.  Their  first  eftbrts  were  in 
 Italy,  from  which  they  sent  forth  missionaries, 
 preaching  the  Scriptures.  Though  stigmatized  as 
 Manichseans,  a  charge  which  they  always  repelled 
 as  an  utter  calumny,  they  made  numerous  converts. 
 At  length  their  progress  in  France  attracted  the 
 eye  of  the  Government,  and  persecution  was  let 
 loose  against  them.  They  were  found  guilty  of 
 disclaiming  the  use  of  images,  of  denying  the 
 7 
 
THE    POST-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS.  255 
 
 right  of  the  Papacy  to  temporal  power,  and  of 
 propagating  the  Scriptures.  They  at  length  began 
 to  make  converts  among  the  higher  orders  of  the 
 French  clergy ;  and  direct  vengeance  followed. 
 "  The  first  religious  assembly  which  the  Pauli- 
 cians  (openly)  formed  in  Europe,  was  at  Orleans, 
 in  1017.  Its  principal  members  were  twelve 
 canons  of  the  Cathedral,  distinguished  for  their 
 piety  and  learning ;  and  it  was  composed,  in  ge- 
 neral, of  a  number  of  citizens,  who  were  far  from 
 being  of  the  meanest  condition.  King  Robert 
 held  a  council,  and  striving  in  vain  to  bring  back 
 the  canons,  ordered  them  to  be  buried  alive'." 
 Thus  the  purer  form  of  Christianity  in  Europe 
 was  begun  ;  the  spirit  which  our  Lord  had  given 
 by  hreathing,  the  Trvtu^ua,  was,  during  this  period, 
 especially  breathed  upon  the  West,  It  is  remark- 
 able that  the  original  seat  of  the  Paulicians  was, 
 like  that  of  Abraham,  in  Chaldaea. 
 
 *  Mosheim  {Eccl.  Hist.  v.  2.  524.) 
 
 The  case  is  still  stronger,  by  taking  the  true  date  of  the  birth 
 of  Abraham.  The  Scptuagint  gives  the  date  of  the  birth  of 
 Terah's  first-born.  But  Abraham  was  probably  his  youngest 
 son,  and  must  have  been  born  in  his  130th  year  ;  as  is  evident 
 from  the  date  of  Terah's  death,  in  his  205th  year  {Gen.  xi.  32.), 
 at  which  time  Abraham  was  75  years  old  {Gen.  xii.  4.)  This 
 would  add  60  years  to  the  corresponding  period  ;  which  would 
 close  at  A.  D.  1072.  But  the  coincidence  would  be  only  strength- 
 ened by  the  addition  ;  for  the  doctrines  of  the  Reformers  ad- 
 vanced continually  through  the  11th  century. 
 
256  THE    POST-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS. 
 
 In  this  contrast  of  the  patriarchal  and  Jewish 
 eras,  evidence  is  obtained,  which  throws  the 
 strongest  light  on  the  Divine  authority  of  revela- 
 tion. The  process  and  the  materials  are  equally 
 plain.  The  process  is  that  of  mere  juxta-position  ; 
 the  materials  are  the  facts  of  common  history. 
 The  translations  of  the  names  are  not  made  for 
 the  purpose  ;  but  are  those  familiar  to  every  one 
 acquainted  with  the  original.  The  dates  of  the 
 periods  are  those  given  in  the  most  common  au- 
 thority on  the  subject,  the  chronology  used  in 
 our  Church'.  But  the  conclusion  is  one  of  the 
 very  highest  importance.  It  is  a  new  and  irre- 
 sistible proof  of  the  particular  and  constant  action 
 of  Providence  in  the  affairs  of  men.  The  corre- 
 spondence of  the  two  dispensations  is  throughout 
 of  the  most  complete  order  :  not  founded  on  a  few 
 occasional  similarities  of  action,  but  close  and 
 consecutive,  without  a  single  interval,  during /bz<r 
 thousand  years.  The  parallelism  is  tried  under 
 all  conceivable  vicissitudes  of  national  character 
 and  national  fortune.  Yet  the  prophetic  names 
 are  still  true  to  their  purpose ;  and  so  true,  that 
 
 '  No  known  system  of  chronology  can  be  relied  on  for  the  pre- 
 cise years  of  the  leading  events.  If  a  more  exact  system  should 
 hereafter  be  discovered,  it  might  bring  those  events  still  more 
 accurately  to  the  points  of  time  marked  in  the  parallelism  ;  but 
 those  minor  discrepancies  cannot  be  in  question  on  a  scale  of 
 thousands  of  years.  The  whole  periods  and  their  general  cha- 
 racter are  the  true  objects  to  be  considered. 
 
THE    POST-DILUVIAN    PATRIARCHS.  257 
 
 we  might  even  now  adopt  them  to  class  those 
 vicissitudes,  for  the  purposes  of  history. 
 
 Why  those  names  were  ever  given  to  the  patri- 
 archal line,  had  hitherto  been  a  matter  of  per- 
 plexity'. Or,  if  the  names  of  Cain,  Abel,  and 
 Seth,  might  refer  to  their  individual  circum- 
 stances, and  those  of  Noah  and  Peleg  to  the 
 circumstances  of  the  world ;  what  could  be 
 the  ground  for  such  a  succession  of  epithets, 
 as  "  despairing,"  "  possessing,"  "  praising," 
 "  descending,"  "  devoting,"  "  dying,"  &c., 
 among  the  pious  and  protected  sons  of  the  chosen 
 line  ?  Could  they  be  thus  given  down  for  their 
 designation  of  the  individual  career  of  a  rude 
 and  simple  race,  whose  lives  have  furnished  no 
 proof  to  us  that  the  designation  was  ever  realized; 
 who  probably  passed  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave 
 in  the  uniformity  and  quiet  of  a  small  and  guarded 
 colony  ;  and  of  whom  we  know  scarcely  more,  than 
 that  they  were  born,  and  died". 
 
 '  The  names  of  the  direct  line  of  Cain  are  equally  given,  but 
 without  dates  ;  and  the  succession  is  broken  off  long  before  the 
 deluge.  For  the  names,  the  succession,  and  its  fracture,  a  suf- 
 ficient reason  is  discoverable.    They  are  the  histonj  of  heathenism. 
 
 '  Among  the  minor  yet  striking  results  of  the  parallelism,  is 
 its  confirmation  of  events  of  such  remarkable  interest,  yet  so 
 frequently  the  subject  of  rash  scepticism,  as  the  division  of  the 
 earth  among  the  post-diluvian  families  ;  the  building  of  Babel ; 
 and  the  confusion  of  tongues.  Their  strong  correspondence  with 
 events  in  known  and  accessible  history,  takes  them  out  of  the 
 remoteness  and  obscurity  in  which  they  are  necessarily  left  by 
 the  brief  narrative  of  Scripture. 
 
 S 
 
CHAPTER    XVIII. 
 
 THE  PATRIARCHAL  LINE. 
 
 The  exile  of  Cain  and  the  death  of  Abel  had 
 given  the  eldership  of  the  family  to  Seth.  By 
 him  it  was  transmitted  to  his  eldest  born,  Enos. 
 We  have  no  reason  to  conceive  that  a  name  so 
 descriptive  of  calamity  was  applicable  to  either 
 the  patriarch  or  his  time.  He  was  probably 
 distinguished  for  piety  ;  for  it  is  recorded  of  him 
 that,  "  in  his  days  men  began  to  call  upon  the 
 name  of  the  Lord'."     To  their  sacrifices  they  had 
 
 *  This  expression,  of  "  calling  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord," 
 has  been  perplexed  by  the  commentators  (Bishop  Patrick  and 
 others),  who,  in  their  reluctance  to  admit  that  jjublic  worship 
 could  have  been  so  long  delayed,  conceive  it  to  have  been 
 merely  a  declaration  on  the  part  of  the  Sethites,  that  they  were 
 "  the  sons  of  God."  Yet  this  would  be  an  act  of  presumption 
 of  which  we  have  no  example  in  religious  history.  That  the 
 Church  might  subsequently  obtain  the  name  from  the  historian, 
 is  a  separate  question. 
 
 But  we  have  no  right,  for  any  fancied  inconvenience,  to  stray 
 from  the  common  meaning  of  Scripture.  The  phrase  of  "  call- 
 ing on  the  name  of  the  Lord,"  is  not  unfrequent  in  Scripture  ; 
 
THE    PATRIARCHAL    LINE.  259 
 
 now  added  a  new  form  of  approach  to  the  Deity, 
 public  prayer.     Of  the   successive  heads  of  the 
 
 and   it   uniformly   implies    addressing   him    by   some   formal 
 acknowledgment  of  his  Being,  as  in  prayer.     The  original  act 
 of  homage   was   sacrifice,  an    act  chiefly   connected  with   the 
 offerer  himself,  as  an  atonement  for  individual  sin.     There  is 
 nothing  inconsistent  in  supposing  that  the  idea  of  public  prayer, 
 as  a  general  acknowledgment  of  the  power  and  beneficence  of 
 the  Deity,   might  be   the  subsequent  offering  of  minds  more 
 awakened  to  a  sense  of  His  spiritual  nature.     In  the  patriarchal 
 history,  we  find  the  sacrifice,  and  the  worship  by  prayer,  sufli- 
 ciently  contradistinguished.     ^Vhen  Abraham  sacrificed  at  Be- 
 thel,  we  are  told  he  also   "  called  on  the  name  of  the  Lord," 
 (Gen.  xii.  8),  an  act  evidently  not  included  in  the  mention  of 
 "  sacrifice."     When  Isaac  sacrificed  at  Gerar,  he  also  "  called 
 on   the  name   of  the   Lord"  (Gen.  xxvi.  25).      Those  acts  of 
 worship  were  doubtless  public.     In  the  offering  of  Cain  and 
 Abel,  we  have  an  example  of  the  sacrifice  without  the  prayer. 
 In  the  Apostle's  definition   of  the  Church,  "  Those  who   call 
 upon  the  name  of  the  Lord"  (1  Cor.  i.  2),  we  have  an  example  of 
 the  prayer  without  the  sacrifice.     The  question  is  of  some  mo- 
 ment, as   showing  the  conformity  of  the  narrative   to  nature. 
 Private  prayer  is   almost  an  instinct ;  but  public  prayer,  the 
 assembling  of  many  together  for  the  purposes  of  joint  supplica- 
 tion, is  naturally  the  work  of  a  later  impression  ;  of  a  community 
 of  thought,   produced  by  an   extension  of   intercourse,    by  a 
 larger  diffusion  of  religious  feeling,  by  the  necessity  of  pre- 
 serving  the  standard  of  faith,  and,   probably,  by  some  growing 
 evidence  of  the  necessity  of  a  more  distinct  testimonial  to  the 
 faith.     All  those  circumstances   would   be  the  natural  result  of 
 the  position  of  the  Sethites.     In  the  beginning,  prayer  might  be 
 solitary;   but  when  their  numbers   increased,   and,   of  course, 
 separated  more  widely  from   the  immediate  instruction  of  the 
 patriarch,  some  substitute  might  naturally  be  sought  in  the 
 
 s  2 
 
260  THE  PATRIARCHAL  LINE. 
 
 generations,  down  to  Enoch,  nothing  is  recorded, 
 but  the  years.  But  of  Enoch  the  two  memorable 
 facts  transpire,  that  he  prophesied  the  infliction  of 
 the  Divine  vengeance  \  and  that  he  passed  away 
 from  earth  without  having  tasted  of  the  grave. 
 
 Methuselah,  Lamech,  and  Noah,  complete  the 
 series  of  the  ante-diluvian  Patriarchs.  The  name 
 of  Noah  was  given  as  a  declared  prediction  of 
 events  still  distant  GOO  years.  Nothing  could  be 
 less  within  the  limits  of  human  sagacity  ;  for  it 
 comprehended  universal  ruin,  the  restoration  of 
 the  world,  the  sovereignty  of  the  Sethites  over  that 
 world,  the  supremacy  of  religion,  and  the  formation 
 of  a  totally  new  frame  of  society  ;  the  general 
 building  up  of  the  great  commonwealth  of  the 
 sons  of  the  patriarch,  distending  into  mankind. 
 
 It  is  probable  that,  in  the  tim.e  of  Lamech,  the 
 guilt  of  the  earth  had  greatly  increased,  for  the 
 
 instruction  given  to  the  whole  at  regulated  intervals,  by  a  form 
 of  worship,  which  brought  them  all  together.  The  increasing 
 population  and  profligacy  of  the  Cainite  tribes  might  also  render 
 this  precaution  valuable,  at  once  as  an  antidote  to  their  exam- 
 ple, and  a  protest  against  their  infidelity. 
 
 '  "  Behold,  the  Lord  cometh,  with  ten  thousand  of  his 
 saints."  (Judc,  14.)  This  has  been  supposed  to  be  an  extract 
 from  the  Apocryphal  book  of  Enoch.  (Sherlock,  Lardner,  ^-c) 
 But  we  dishonour  inspiration  by  supposing  that  it  could  borrow 
 from  a  Avork  of  vulgar  fable.  Why  should  not  the  much  more 
 natural  circumstance  have  been  the  true  ;  that  the  forger  bor- 
 rowed a  fragment  of  genuine  prediction  to  give  credit  to  his 
 fable  ? 
 
THE    PATRIARCHAL    LINE.  261 
 
 Divine  promise  is  seldom  given  until  its  consola- 
 tion is  required.     As  the  colonies  of  the  Cainites 
 swelled   in  numbers,  they  naturalh'  grew  in  vio- 
 lence.    A  race   of  wild  and   scattered  settlers  in 
 the  mountains  and  forests  of  the  desert  world  ;  they 
 may  have   strongly  resembled   in   the  ferocit}'^  of 
 their  customs,  the  narrowness  of  their  inventions, 
 and  their  intractable  barbarism,  the  rovers  of  the 
 Arabian  or  Tartar  wildernesses.     All  inquiry  has 
 failed  to  discover  that  they  had  any  religion,  even 
 idolatry  ;  or  any  government,  beyond  some  rude 
 submission  to  chieftains,  who  led  them  to  mutual 
 slaughter.     In   the   increasing  degeneracy  of  the 
 earth,  when  the  intermarriage  of  the  Sethites  with 
 the  Cainite  tribes  had  extinguished  the  last  pur- 
 pose for  which  the    earth    had    been   preserved, 
 those   chieftains  assume  a  more  prominent  part. 
 They  are  characterized   as   "  giants,"  "  mighty 
 men,"  "men  of  renown  :"  three  characters  which 
 easily   combine  in   the  early  periods  of  society. 
 Bodily  strength  and  fierce  courage  are  the  great 
 materials   of   distinction    in    savage    life.      Every 
 barbarian   era    has    had   its    Hercules ;    and    the 
 chiefs  of  the  ante-diluvian  world  are  pictured  only 
 as  possessing  the  qualities  which  have  always  led 
 to  barbarian  renown  ^ 
 
 •  Heidegger,  in  his  chapter  on  the  giants  (the  Neph'ilhn)  ("^gj 
 cecidit,— ruit)  gives  at  length  the  opinions  on  the  subject. 
 Some  consider  the  name  to  imply  nothing  more  than  violence, 
 
1162  THE    PATRIARCHAL    LINE. 
 
 The  earth  was  now  hurrying  on  to  vengeance. 
 The  single  restraint  of  universal  corruption  was 
 lost  in  the  guilty  marriages  of  the  chosen  race, 
 the  "  Sons  of  GodV'  with  the  descendants  of 
 Cain.  Life  was  shared  between  violence  and 
 voluptuousness.  Even  the  discovery  of  the  arts  of 
 music,  and  the  working  of  metals,  invaluable  to  a 
 race  of  pure  and  intelligent  habits,  may  have  only 
 
 ambition,  or  courage,  &c. ;  but  it  is  clear  that  the  Jews  under- 
 stood by  it,  remarkable  strength  and  stature.  The  men  sent  by 
 Joshua  to  view  Canaan  returned  terrified  at  the  strength  and 
 size  of  the  people.  "  All  the  people  that  we  saw  in  it  are  men 
 of  a  great  stature  ;  and  there  we  saw  the  giants  {Nephilirn),  the 
 sons  of  Anak,  which  came  of  the  {NephiUm) ;  and  we  were  in 
 our  own  sight  as  grasshoppers.'^ 
 
 Yet  we  cannot  reason  from  the  existence  of  gigantic  indivi- 
 duals, or  even  of  gigantic  races,  to  the  general  stature  of  man- 
 kind. From  the  size  of  ancient  tombs,  the  Egyptian  mum- 
 mies, and  the  remnants  of  ancient  armour,  we  have  proof  that 
 the  general  size  of  man  has  been  the  same,  as  far  back  as  human 
 record ;  but  we,  perhaps,  have  an  evidence  extending  to  all 
 ages,  in  the  size  of  the  animals  intended  for  human  use.  We 
 can  scarcely  suppose  that  they  have  followed  the  descending 
 stature  of  man  ;  yet  the  horse,  &c.  of  our  time  would  be  useless 
 to  a  world  peopled  with  giants.  The  mere  fact  of  the  distinc- 
 tion obtained  by  gigantic  strength  and  stature  is  an  argument 
 that  they  were  not  general. 
 
 *  The  Rabbinical  fables  formed  on  the  supposed  intercourse 
 of  angels  with  human  beings,  are  sufficiently  known.  The  title 
 of  "  Sons  of  God  "  may  have  been  applied  to  the  Sethites,  not 
 only  as  the  chosen  line,  but  as  descendants  of  Adam,  who 
 is  termed  the  "  Son  of  God."  Luke  iii.  38.  (Lightfoot  on  the 
 Genealogy.) 
 
THE    PATRIARCHAL    LINE.  263 
 
 added  to  the  progress  of  vice  and  bloodshed 
 among  a  race  whom  they  supplied  with  new 
 attractions  in  the  one,  and  new  weapons  for  the 
 other.  The  purification  of  the  earth  by  the  death 
 of  those  incorrigible  criminals  was  now  the  Divine 
 resolve.  And  the  necessity  of  the  expedient  is 
 fully  justifiable  on  our  common  knowledge.  The 
 human  race  was  vitiated  by  the  two  most  engross- 
 ing and  incurable  corruptions  of  the  heart  of  man 
 — rapine  and  sensuality.  The  former  ruinous  to 
 society,  the  latter  to  the  individual ;  the  former 
 fatal  to  all  the  principles,  the  latter  to  all  the 
 faculties  ;  and  both,  at  a  certain  stage  of  their 
 progress,  equally  and  totally  defying  control ;  both 
 equally  amounting  to  a  moral,  often  to  a  physical 
 insanity,  for  which  the  only  cure  is  the  grave. 
 
 The  gradations  of  the  great  catastrophe  are  full 
 of  solemn  interest. 
 
 It  was  first  proclaimed  that  the  career  of  the 
 earth  was  to  be  closed.  The  time  of  the  destruc- 
 tion was  fixed.  It  was  to  be  within  a  hundred 
 and  twenty  years  !  No  form  of  warning  could 
 have  struck  more  directly  at  the  grand  fomenter 
 of  human  evil — the  presumption  in  the  mind  of 
 the  criminal,  that  an  almost  unlimited  existence 
 lay  before  him. 
 
 A  verbal  warning,  threatening  an  indefinite 
 mode  of  ruin,  had  now  been  given  to  mankind.  A 
 visible  warning,  marking  the  actual  mode  of  ruin, 
 was  to  follow. 
 
264  THE    PATRIARCHAL    LINE. 
 
 The  dimensions  of  the  ark,  300  cubits  long,  50 
 broad,  and  30  high,  were  so  vast,  that  it  seems  to 
 have  been  intended  to  offer  safety  to  a  number, 
 probably  equalling  the  whole  existing  tribe  of  the 
 Sethites.  From  its  form,  it  was  not  merely  a  ship, 
 but  a  house,  not  a  mere  means  of  flight  from  a 
 local  danger,  but  a  great  receptacle  for  existence, 
 in  a  deluge  by  which  all  regions  of  the  earth 
 were  to  be  alike  visited  and  undone  \ 
 
 The  years  which  the  building  of  this  enormous 
 fabric  must  have  occupied;  the  impressions  which 
 must  have  been  made  on  the  patriarchal  tribe  by 
 the  sight  of  their  prince  and  his  family,  probably 
 reduced  to  labour  at  the  work  with  their  own  hands 
 (for  the  secession  of  the  people  was,  at  last,  total) ; 
 the  appeals  with  which  the  Patriarch,  emphatically 
 named  "  the  preacher  of  righteousness,"  must 
 have  tried  to  shake  their  desperate  incredulity  to 
 the  ruin,  which  he  kneiv  to  be  hastening  hour  by 
 hour ;  the  hoary  grandeur  and  hereditary  homage 
 thrown  round  the  lineal  descendant  of  the  first 
 father  of  mankind,  contrasted  with  his  persevering 
 zeal  in  the  erection  of  the  ark,  were  all  instruments 
 of  that  strenuous  long-suffering,  which  stamps  the 
 ways  of  Heaven. 
 
 '  Taking  the  cubit  at  18  inches,  the  dimensions  of  the  ark 
 are  calculated  at  42,413  tons,  or  about  the  stowage  of  eighteen 
 ships  of  the  line  :  a  space  adequate  not  merely  to  carry  all  the 
 animals  and  their  provisions  for  a  year,  but  fifteen  or  sixteen 
 thousand  people,   {Hales,  S^c.) 
 
THE    PATRIARCHAL    LINE.  265 
 
 It  is  observable  that,  during  the  whole  long 
 period  from  the  Fall,  the  narrative  retains  its 
 consistency  with  our  common  experience  of  the 
 birth  of  evil.  Personal  envy  first  produced 
 malice,  and  malice  prompted  to  murder.  The 
 next  step  was  the  expansion  of  crime  from  the 
 individual  to  the  community  ;  the  progress  there 
 was  from  public  irreligion  to  personal  profligacy, 
 and  from  personal  profligacy,  by  a  new  expansion, 
 to  general  violence ;  until  the  community  had 
 placed  itself  beyond  the  power  of  restoration. 
 Still,  an  exemplary  portion  of  mankind  resisted  the 
 degeneracy.  At  length  even  that  portion,  aban- 
 doning its  ancient  barrier,  and  weakly,  or  pre- 
 sumptuously, exposing  itself  to  the  temptations  of 
 intercourse  with  apostasy,  sank  into  the  com- 
 mon guilt,  and  finally  shared  the  common 
 ruin.  Thus  the  pedigree  of  the  passions  demon- 
 strates the  truth  of  Scripture.  Thus  too,  the 
 same  map  of  crime  and  suff'ering  which  exhibits 
 our  world,  would  have  exhibited  the  world  of  six 
 thousand  years  ago.  The  great  moral  skeleion 
 which  we  have  dug  from  the  deposits  of  the  Flood, 
 shows  the  same  processes  and  articulations,  the 
 same  sources  of  impulse,  and  liabilities  to  disease, 
 which  mark  the  configuration  of  human  things  to 
 this  hour. 
 
 The  physical  desolation  of  the  Flood  is  to  be 
 followed  in  the  fractures  of  the  globe.  But  the 
 moral  picture  is  given  on  the  highest  of  all  autlio- 
 
266  THE    PATRIARCHAL    LINE. 
 
 rities.  Our  Lord,  in  predicting  that  overthrow  of 
 an  infidel  world,  which  was  to  succeed  and  con- 
 summate the  wrath  against  Jerusalem,  illustrates 
 the  eager  occupation  and  heedless  enjoyment  of 
 mankind,  by  the  days  before  the  Flood  ;  when 
 "  they  were  eating  and  drinking,  marrying  and 
 giving  in  marriage,"  and  "  knew  not,  until  the 
 Flood  came  and  swept  them  all  away'."  We 
 have  here  the  declaration,  that  the  Deluge,  how- 
 ever long  threatened,  had  found  the  world  still  un- 
 prepared ;  life  in  full  tension,  mankind  busy  about 
 the  same  frivolous  or  profligate  objects,  till  the 
 moment,  when  the  universal  pulse  stopped,  the 
 springs  of  the  great  machine  were  broken,  the 
 current  of  existence,  through  its  thousand  arteries, 
 was  chilled  and  stagnated  for  ever. 
 
 Yet,  the  narrative  still  impresses  us  with  the 
 idea  of  that  long-sufl'ering,  which  forms  one  of  the 
 most  sacred  characters  of  providential  agency.  It 
 is  clear  that  the  havoc  was  not  instantaneous.  The 
 rain  first  fell  forti/  days  ^     The  act  of  Him  who 
 
 ^  Matt.  xxvi. 
 
 ^  It  would  be  idle,  or  worse,  to  more  than  advert  to  the 
 objections  which  have  been  brought  against  the  Mosaic  narra- 
 tive. By  some  modern  philosophers  it  has  been  denied  alto- 
 gether, from  their  being  unable  "  to  ascertain  the  origin  of  the 
 waters  ;"  as  if  the  same  power  which  created,  could  not  increase 
 the  ocean.  Another  class  have  taken  up  the  question  on  its 
 more  minute  features.  A  naturalist  of  some  name  has  actually 
 doubted  the  whole,  on  the  ground  of  the  diversities  of  habitats, 
 "  which    must   render   the    dwelling  of  the    polar    and    tropic 
 
THE    PATRIARCHAL    LINE.  267 
 
 does  nothing  without  a  cause,  and  who  might 
 have  submerged  the  world  at  a  word ;  why  are  we 
 entitled  to  doubt  that  this  delay  was  mercy  ;  that 
 in  this  period,  many  a  heart  which  had  scorned 
 the  appeals  of  prophet  and  patriarch,  was  shaken 
 from  its  incredulity  by  the  horrors  of  inevitable 
 ruin  ;  that  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands 
 cried  from  their  mountain  tops  and  forests  to  the 
 high  Avenger,  whose  clouds  and  thunders  were 
 stooping  round  them;  and  that  they  were  heard? 
 
 But  how  indescribably  strange,  tumultuous, 
 and  terrible,  must  have  been  the  sudden  check 
 and  subversion  of  all  the  pursuits  of  life  in  the 
 general  world  ;  war,  traffic,  labour,  festivity,  all 
 broken  up  together.  The  "  man  of  renown,"  the 
 great  barbaric  chieftain,  at  the  head  of  his  my- 
 riads, hurrying  to  some  new  scene  of  spoil ;  and 
 finding  himself  checked  in  the  midst  of  his  march, 
 by  the  torrents  from  above,  and  the  inundations 
 dwelling  from  beneath  ;  the  long  lines  of  primitive 
 commerce,  the  rude  caravans  of  the  day,  suddenly 
 dissipated  and  driven  to  the  mountain^  in  terror ; 
 the  tillers  of  the  soil  flying  from  their  fields,  and 
 seeing  their  scanty  harvests  buried  in  a  moment ; 
 The  marriage  and  the  festival ;  the  extravagances 
 
 animals  together  in  the  ark  impossible."  As  if  the  whole 
 transaction  were  not  declared  to  be  a  departure  from  the  ordi- 
 nary course  of  things  ;  a  series  of  miraculous  interferences  for  a 
 purpose  incapable  of  being  accomplished  but  by  miracle,  and 
 worthy  of  miracle. 
 
268  THE    PATRIARCHAL    LINE. 
 
 of  peasant  revelry  ;  the  kingly  rejoicing ;  the 
 uarlike  triumph  ;  the  popular  acclamation  ;  the 
 whole  dissonant  joy  and  turbulent  emotion,  the 
 whole  lavish  magnificence,  and  profligate  and 
 prodigal  energies  of  semi-barbarian  life,  suddenly 
 dashed  and  suspended  by  a  sense  of  universal  and 
 irresistible  destruction. 
 
 Still,  the  Deluge  was  evidently  gradual.  Four 
 stages  of  its  rise  are  distinctly  stated.  First  the 
 forty  days'  rain — then  the  advance  of  the  sea 
 upon  the  land,  *'  the  waters  increased,  and  bare 
 up  the  ark,  and  it  was  lift  up  above  the  earth." 
 — Then  it  is  told  that  "  the  waters  prevailed  and 
 were  increased  greatly  upon  the  earth." — The  final 
 statement  is,  that  "the  waters  prevailed  exceed- 
 ingly upon  the  earth,  and  all  the  high  hills  that 
 were  under  the  whole  heaven  were  covered.'''  We 
 have  thus  the  progress  of  the  Flood  suflticiently 
 defined  by  the  successive  periods — when  the  ark 
 still  remained  on  the  ground — when  it  floated  — 
 when  it  moved  from  its  place — and  when  the  sub- 
 mergence of  the  globe  was  total,  and  the  ark  was 
 borne  wide  over  the  face  of  the  universal  ocean. 
 The  extinction  of  life  may  have  been  as  gradual 
 as  the  rise  of  the  waters.  For  it  is  only  at  the  pe- 
 riod of  final  submergence  that  the  universal  death 
 is  declared.  "  The  mountains  were  covered,  and 
 all  flesh  died  that  moved  upon  the  earth.  All  in 
 whose  nostrils  was  the  breath  of  life,  and  all  that 
 was  in  the  dry  land,  died  !" 
 
CHAPTER  XIX. 
 
 THE  SITE  OF  PARADISE. 
 
 The  Pagan  world  abounded  M'ith  traditions  of 
 Paradise  and  the  Deluge.  The  early  legend  of  all 
 the  principal  nations  was  a  Golden  Age,  in  which 
 man  was  free  from  passion  and  sorrow  ;  followed 
 by  a  gradual  decline  into  mental  and  bodily  ill. 
 The  Deluge  had  its  corresponding  legend.  From 
 India  to  Greece,  all  retained  the  confused  remem- 
 brance of  some  vast  irruption  of  the  waters,  of 
 which  the  distinguishing  feature  was,  that  it  had 
 drowned  mankind ;  leaving  only  a  few  individuals, 
 or  even  a  solitary  pair,  a  Deucalion  and  Pyrrha, 
 to  restore  the  world'. 
 
 But  ancient  literature  possessed  three  writers, 
 Berosus,  Sanchoniatho,  and  Manetho,  who  pecu- 
 liarly attempted  to  give  those  cloudy  traditions,  if 
 
 '  On  this  long-laboured  topic,  the  reader  will  find  more  than 
 ample  illustration  in  Maurice's  rambling  volumes  on  Hindostan, 
 Faber's  Origin  of  Pagan  Idolatry,  Bryant's  rash,  but  sometimes 
 ingenious,  speculations  on  Heathen  Mythology,  and  in  the 
 learned  Miscellany  of  Stillingfleet. 
 
270  THE    SITE    OF    PARADISE. 
 
 not  the  substance,  the  shape,  of  history.  The 
 first  was  a  Babylonian,  and  priest  of  Bel  us,  who 
 leaving  Asia,  lived  in  Cos,  and  propagated  in 
 Greece  some  of  the  science  of  his  country.  The 
 fragments  of  his  history,  preserved  by  Josephus 
 and  Eusebius,  give  a  statement  of  ten  kings,  or 
 heads  of  families,  who  lived  in  Chaldaea  before  the 
 Deluge,  commencing  with  Alarus  (Adam),  and  end- 
 ing with  Xisuthrus(Noah).  Xisuthrus,  having  been 
 warned  in  a  dream  by  Kronos,  that  the  earth  was 
 to  be  destroyed  by  water,  built  a  ship,  which,  with 
 the  usual  Oriental  exaggeration,  was  five  furlongs 
 in  length,  and  two  in  breadth.  He  took  with  him 
 his  wife,  children,  and  friends  ;  sent  out  birds  to 
 ascertain  the  state  of  the  earth  as  the  waters  sub- 
 sided ;  and  finally  found  that  his  ship  rested  upon 
 a  mountain. 
 
 Sanchoniatho  was  the  compiler  of  the  Phcenician 
 history,  from  the  books  of  Tauth  and  ancient  in- 
 scriptions. His  only  relique  is  also  preserved  by 
 Eusebius.  It  relates  chiefly  to  tlie  line  of  Cain 
 and  a  race  of  giants,  whose  names  it  gives  to  the 
 mountains,  Libanus,  &c. 
 
 Maiietho  Sebennyta,  the  historian  of  Egyptian 
 antiquity,  w^s  the  high  priest  of  Heliopolis  in  the 
 time  of  Ptolemy  Philadclphus.  Of  his  works 
 nothing  remains,  beyond  a  few  fragments  quoted 
 from  the  Chronographia  of  Syncellus,  from  Afri- 
 canus,  and  the  original  Chronicon  of  Eusebius, 
 now  lost.  He  raises  the  ai>e  of  the  world  to 
 7 
 
THE    SITE    OF    PARADISE.  271 
 
 36,525  years  ;  but  he  exhibits  evident  traces  of  the 
 tradition  of  Paradise  and  the  Fall.  He  reckons 
 thirty  dynasties  of  gods,  followed  by  eight  demi- 
 gods, for  a  diminished  period  ;  those  followed  by 
 a  still  descending  class,  heroes ;  and  those  by 
 mortal  kings,  the  first  of  whom  was  Menes.  The 
 extravagances  of  this  Chronology  seem  to  be 
 formed  upon  some  conception  of  the  dwelling  of 
 their  deified  heroes  in  the  stars,  the  general  period 
 or  grand  revolution  of  the  heavens  being  computed 
 at  36,525  years.  It  is  supposed  that  Manetho 
 had  seen  the  Septuagint,  which  was  completed  in 
 his  time ;  and  that,  with  the  pride  of  the  learned 
 body  of  a  nation  proverbially  vain  of  its  antiquity, 
 and  with  the  unscrupulousness  of  an  idolator,  he 
 fabricated  his  Chronology,  to  throw  the  former 
 slaves  of  Egypt  into  the  shade. 
 
 Few  subjects  could  offer  a  more  natural  and 
 interesting  inquiry  than  the  site  of  Paradise,  and 
 few  have  been  more  learnedly  contested.  Tradi- 
 tion and  local  opinions  place  it  in  Mesopotamia : 
 and  the  orientals  still  point  with  sorrow  and  vene- 
 ration to  the  marshy  spot  where  the  "  mount  of 
 the  garden"  is  supposed  to  have  once  risen,  and 
 where  the  footsteps  of  the  first  parents  of  mankind 
 once  wandered  among  fruits  and  flowers,  of  a 
 luxuriance  and  beauty  that  have  long  vanished 
 from  a  degenerate  world.  But  greater  changes 
 than  those  of  the  produce  of  the  soil  confuse  the 
 question  ;  the  soil  itself  has  been  changed,  and 
 
"272  THE    SITE    OF    PARADISE. 
 
 the  "four  rivers"  of  Paradise  are  now  beyond 
 discovery  \  Patriotism,  too,  has  had  her  share. 
 The  Indians  transfer  the  garden  to  Ceylon  ;  the 
 Northerns  to  Scandinavia.  It  has  been  imagined 
 in  the  Fortunate  Isles  ;  in  the  great  buried  con- 
 tinent which  forms  the  bed  of  the  Atlantic  ;  and 
 even  in  Iceland  ! 
 
 Among  contending  probabilities,  Armenia, 
 near  the  sources  of  the  Tigris  and  Euphrates, 
 appears  to  have  the  strongest  claims.  The 
 marshy  interval  between  the  rivers  in  Mesopota- 
 mia is  deficient  in  all  the  features  required  by 
 the  original.  The  high  grounds  of  Armenia,  a 
 country  of  singular  natural  beauty,  and  the  table 
 land  of  Western  Asia,  from  which  the  Euphrates, 
 the  Araxes,  and  the  Cyrus  spring,  at  no  great  dis- 
 
 '  Rosenmuller  justly  says :  "  Fluvius  ille  ex  quo  quatuor 
 alii  ord  sunt,  liodie  frustra  quseritur." — ( Schol.  ad  Gen.) 
 Michaelis  as  justly  advises  that  we  should  not  be  peremptory, 
 but  should  wait  for  additional  materials.  "  Horum  nihil  cum 
 satisfaciat,  dcsperemus  Phisonem  Paradisi,  donee  novae  quid 
 lucis  adfulgeat.  Certi  quid  statuere  non  licet." — (Swpj)!.  ad 
 Lex.)  Mr.  Pcnn  gets  rid  of  the  difficulty  with  less  than  his 
 usual  caution,  by  assuming  the  whole  description  of  the  rivers 
 to  be  a  gloss  introduced  from  the  margin.  But  no  conjecture 
 can  bo  placed  in  competition  with  the  authority  of  all  the  MSS. 
 If  new  ones  should  be  found  contradicting  the  old,  the  question 
 may  assume  a  new  form,  but  not  till  then.  The  subject  is 
 largely  discussed  by  Shuckford,  Creation,  Sj-c.  ;  Wells,  Geog.  ; 
 Patrick,  Com. ;  with  laborious  learning  by  Bochart,  in  Geog. 
 Sac.  ;  briefly  by  Hales,  and  ingeniously  by  Faber,  Horae.  Mos. 
 
THE    SITE    OF    PARADISE.  O73 
 
 tance  from  tlie   Euxine  ;  the  Tigris  and  the  Eu- 
 phrates, springing  from  opposite  sides  of  the  Tauric 
 chain  '  ;    sufficiently  corresponds  to  the  brief  de- 
 scription of  the  original.    "  The  Lord  God  planted 
 a  garden  eastward  in  Eden,  and  there  he  put  the 
 man  whom  he  had   formed.     And   a  river  w^ent 
 out  of  Eden  to  water  the  garden,  and  from  thence 
 it  was  parted,   and    became   into    four   heads  2." 
 The  obvious  intent  of  this  passage  is,  that  a  river 
 whose  fount  was  in  the  land  or  province  of  Eden, 
 flowed  into  the  garden ;  after  watering  which  it 
 separated,  at  its  exit,  into/oz^r  streams,  each  form- 
 ing the  head  of  a  river.     We  know  that  the  pre- 
 sent sources  of  the  Tigris  and  Euphrates  are  in 
 the  Armenian  mountains;  why  should  we  then 
 look  to  the  flat  country  far  down  their  streams  for 
 the  seat  of  Paradise,  which  is  declared  to  have  been 
 near  their  springs  ?    Or  what  site  can  we  conceive 
 fitter  for  the  "garden  of  God,"  than  one  of  tlie 
 valleys  of  those  noble   hills,  even  now  rich  and 
 lovely,  with  a  river  pouring  from  the  surrounding 
 chain  into  its  bosom,  taking  every  shape  of  the  fine 
 diversities  of  the  mountain  landscape,  alternately 
 the  lake,   the  cataract,  and   the   stream  ;    rolling 
 through  marble  glens,  and  forest  dells,  and  sunny 
 lawns,  and  the  luxuriant  embowerings  of  a  land 
 where  flourished  every  tree,  ''good  for  fruit  or  plea- 
 
 Renncll,  Gvog.  of  Herodot.  quoted  by  Hales,  vol.  i. 
 '  Gen,  ii.  8 — 10. 
 
274  THE    SITE    OF    PARADISE. 
 
 sant  to  the  eye."  Armenia  is  still  a  country  of 
 remarkable  beauty  and  fertility^ ;  though,  from  the 
 loftiness  of  its  mountains,  suffering  occasionally  by 
 severity  of  climate.  But,  on  the  supposition  that 
 instead  of  forming  the  table  land  of  a  continent, 
 it  was  once  an  island,  surrounded  by  an  extensive 
 ocean;  the  temperature  would  necessarily  be 
 much  higher,  and  winter  probably  altogether 
 unknown. 
 
 The  courses  of  the  four  rivers  may  have 
 changed  largely  since  the  time  of  Paradise,  or 
 even  of  the  historian ;  for  such  changes  are  not 
 unusual  in  rivers  flowing  through  plains.  But  we 
 have  certain  knowledge  that  in  Armenia  or  its 
 vicinity,  the  first  settlement  was  made  after  the 
 Deluge ;  and  it  would  be  not  inconsistent  with 
 that  minute  care  by  which  Providence  sometimes 
 reinforces  human  impressions,  to  bring  back  the 
 patriarch  to  the  spot  which  he  had  inhabited  be- 
 
 "^  Faber,  (Orig,  of  Pagan  Idolatry,  b.  ii.)  wbo  adds  in  a 
 note :  "  The  whole  country  of  Armenia  is  so  beautiful,  that 
 travellers  have  imagined  that  they  found  here  the  situation  of 
 the  original  garden  of  Eden.  The  hills  are  covered  with  forests 
 of  oak,  ash,  beech,  chestnut,  walnut,  and  elms,  encircled  with 
 vines  growing  perfectly  wild,  but  producing  vast  quantities  of 
 grapes.  Cotton  grows  spontaneously,  as  well  as  the  finest 
 European  fruit-trees.  Rice,  wheat,  millet,  hemp,  and  flax,  are 
 raised  in  the  plains  almost  vvdthout  culture.  The  valleys  afford 
 the  finest  pasturage,  Src." — (Memoir  of  a  map  of  the  countries 
 between  the  Euxine  and  the  Caspian.) 
 
THE    SITE    OF    PARADISE.  275 
 
 fore  ;  and  show  him,  that  though  Paradise  had 
 perished,  the  hand  of  Heaven  was  still  paramount, 
 and  the  birth-place  of  his  people  was  preserved, 
 in  the  war  of  elements  which  had  extinguished 
 a  world. 
 
 The  sending  out  the  raven  gives  the  impression, 
 that  the  Patriarch  expected  to  find  some  traces 
 of  previous  existence,  perhaps  some  fragments 
 of  the  dead  ;  to  which  the  raven  would  naturally 
 be  attracted.  The  olive  branch  brought  back  by 
 the  dove,  is  almost  a  direct  evidence  that  the  soil 
 had  been  fertile  before.  Even  the  present  forma- 
 tion of  the  land  to  the  north  and  west  of  Mesopo- 
 tamia, aids  the  conjecture.  If  the  ocean  should 
 now  be  rolled  upon  Northern  Asia,  the  mountain 
 ranges  from  Libanus  to  the  Caspian  would  pro- 
 bably be  islands  ;  the  loftier  range  of  Caucasus  a 
 chain  of  promontories  projecting  far  above  the  sea, 
 and,  instead  of  their  present  desolation,  exhibit- 
 ing the  luxuriance  of  the  Sandwich  Islands,  from 
 the  milder  temperature  sustained  by  the  surround- 
 ing waters.  The  site  of  Armenia  would  be  dotted 
 with  islands ;  Courdistan  and  Louristan  would  be 
 an  Archipelago ;  the  range  extending  from  the 
 Caspian  to  Thibet,  with  the  mighty  Hindu  Koosh, 
 would  be  a  succession  of  islets,  leading  to  an 
 oceanic  continent.  We  can  even  trace  something 
 of  this  order  in  the  island  chains  of  the  existing 
 ocean.  If  the  great  south  sea  were  dried  up,  we 
 should   probably  find  the  Andaman  and  Nicobar 
 
 T  2 
 
276  THE    SITE    OF    PARADISE. 
 
 islands  the  summits  of  a  range  of  hills  ;  Sumatra, 
 with  its  central  range,  a  vast  extent  of  elevated 
 country,  with  central  hills,  like  the  plain  of  Quito 
 with  its  Andes ;  Borneo  and  New  Holland  huge 
 table-lands,  corresponding  to  each  other  as  the 
 Mysore  to  central  Tartary.  Of  course,  conceptions 
 of  the  site  of  Paradise,  a  subject  on  which  all  docu- 
 ments have  been  withheld  from  our  curiosity,  must 
 be  conjectural.  Yet  the  position  of  the  chosen  seat 
 of  happiness  in  a  large  and  fertile  island,  seems 
 congenial  to  human  ideas.  Security,  seclusion, 
 and  luxuriance,  are  natural  portions  of  the  pic- 
 ture. All  the  ancient  dreams,  oriental  and  west- 
 ern, of  happiness  too  high  to  be  shared  among  the 
 multitude  of  mankind  ;  have  fixed  their  place  in 
 islands,  (the  Insulae  Fortunatae,  the  White  Island, 
 the  Island  of  Eternal  Youth  in  the  Pacific,  &c.) 
 surrounded  by  a  guardian  ocean,  and  watched 
 over  by  protecting  deities. 
 
CHAPTER   XX. 
 
 THE  NEW  WORLD. 
 
 The  violence  of  the  deluge  had  ceased  with  its 
 necessity.  Mankind  were  in  the  universal  grave. 
 From  that  time,  the  waters  began  to  subside.  In 
 the  seventh  month  the  ark  touched  the  summit  of 
 Ararat.  In  the  tenth  month  the  mountain  tops 
 were  seen.  And  on  the  seven  and  twentieth  day 
 of  the  second  month  of  the  new  year,  Noah,  by 
 the  direct  command  of  God,  went  forth  with  his 
 family  from  the  ark,  and  found  himself  the  master 
 of  a  new  world. 
 
 Yet  the  circumstances  were  still  more  extraor- 
 dinary than  the  situation.  The  patriarchal  family, 
 but  a  year  before,  were  the  last  defenders  of 
 Revelation.  Personally,  they  must  have  long  lost 
 all  authority  over  their  people  ;  and,  in  the  fierce 
 and  profligate  concourses  of  the  mingled  Cainites 
 and  Sethites,  must  have  been  little  more  than 
 hermits,  or  outcasts  from  mankind.  But,  now, 
 all  was  changed.     The  scoffers  were  in  the  bosom 
 
278  THE    NEAV    WORLD. 
 
 of  the  deep  \  The  scorned,  perhaps  the  persecuted, 
 patriarch,  was  monarch  of  the  globe  !  a  kingdom 
 of  solitude,  for  the  moment  ;  but  spreading  before 
 his  eye  with  the  prophetic  promise  of  millions,  of 
 whom  his  three  sons  were  to  be  the  progenitors, 
 and  the  kings.  And  among  whom  the  true  wor- 
 ship was  to  resume  its  rank,  and  Revelation  be  the 
 law  of  mankind. 
 
 In  answer  to  the  sacrifice,  by  which  he  at  once 
 acknowledged  the  covenant  of  mercy,  and  purified 
 the  sins  of  his  household,  a  blessing  was  given  ; 
 the  infliction  of  sterility  was  to  be  no  more.  The 
 "  curse"  was  taken  away.  The  original  blessing 
 of  human  increase  was  renewed  ;  but,  with  a  fuller 
 provision  for  human  subsistence,  in  the  permission 
 to  use  animal  food ;  and  even  a  more  direct  pro- 
 tection to  that  increase,  in  the  shape  of  a  positive 
 command  against  bloodshed.  The  whole  de- 
 claration was  closed   by  a  Covenant,   taking  the 
 
 '  Fossils  of  human  remains  have  been  found  in  considerable 
 numbers  at  Durfort  in  France.  But  the  general  absence  of 
 those  remains,  which  has  so  much  embarrassed  one  branch  of 
 the  geologists,  and  given  so  rash  a  triumph  to  the  infidelity  of 
 the  other,  is  to  be  accounted  for  on  the  simple  principle,  that 
 they  have  been  sought,  vs^here  it  was  never  intended  that  they 
 should  be  found.  The  grave  of  the  ante-diluvian  millions  is 
 the  bed  of  the  ocean.  Perhaps,  Scripture  contemplates  this 
 mighty  burial-place,  where  it  declares  that  "  the  sea  shall  give 
 up  her  dead,"  that  judgment  shall  embrace  the  primeval  popu- 
 lation, as  well  as  the  descendants  of  Noah  ;  the  past  with  the 
 existing  world. 
 
THE  NEW  WORLD.  279 
 
 new  race  under  the  peculiar  safeguard  of  Heaven, 
 securing  them  against  a  future  deluge,  and  pro- 
 mising them  the  uninterrupted  succession  of  the 
 seasons,  seed  time  and  harvest,  while  the  earth 
 remained. 
 
 This  primal  compact  was  sealed  by  a  pheno- 
 menon, of  a  loveliness  and  magnificence,  which, 
 even  now,  can  never  be  displayed  without  exciting 
 the  admiration  and  wonder  of  man.  "  And  God 
 said,  this  is  the  token  of  the  covenant  that  I  make 
 between  me  and  you,  and  every  living  creature 
 that  is  with  you.  I  do  set  my  bow  in  the  cloud." 
 The  bow  is  declared  to  be  a  sign  to  man,  that  the 
 earth  shall  not  be  again  destroyed  by  a  deluge. 
 Yet  the  emblem  may  have  contained  more  than  the 
 promise  of  protection.  The  rainbow  does  not  appear 
 until  the  storm  is  past.  It  seldom  appears  at  all 
 in  that  portion  of  the  year  when  the  natural 
 inclemency  of  the  skies  might  have  made  such  a 
 pledge  the  most  important,  at  least,  to  the  early  in- 
 habitants of  the  world.  Thus  the  security  would 
 seem  to  be  given,  when  security  was  no  longer 
 required  :  or  to  be  refused  altogether,  when  the 
 fears  of  mankind  were  most  awakened.  But  its 
 purpose  may  have  been  directed  as  much  to  the 
 ruin  past,  as  to  the  preservation  to  come.  The 
 Sabbath  had  been  already  established,  for  a  per- 
 petual memorial  of  the  creation  of  the  world  ;  the 
 rainbow  might  be  sent  as  a  perpetual  memorial  of 
 
 7 
 
280  THE    NEW    WORLD. 
 
 its  punishment  and  purification.  Shining  on  the 
 skirts  of  the  retiring*  tempest,  no  nobler  remem- 
 brancer could  be  given  at  once  of  the  justice 
 which  had  exercised  so  lofty  a  sway  over  the 
 earth,  and  of  the  persevering  and  discriminating 
 mercy  which  had  saved  the  righteous  remnant 
 of  mankind.  All  human  monuments  may  perish; 
 but,  so  long  as  man  endures,  Mere  stands  a  monu- 
 ment of  surpassing  splendour,  raised  for  his  wisdom, 
 in  the  skies  ;  an  unchangeable  testimony  to  the 
 constant  action  of  Providence  on  the  frame  of 
 nature,  and  of  the  justice  dealt  out  to  the  crimes 
 and  virtues  of  man:— the  "  Sign  of  God"  in 
 heaven\ 
 
 '  It  might  be  interesting,  but  it  would  be  endless,  to  recapi- 
 tulate the  images  which  the  rainbow  has  given  to  poetry  and 
 eloquence.  Homer,  who,  as  an  Ionian,  might  have  known  its 
 history,  calls  it  the  sign : — 
 
 Tepag  ^epoiroji'  aydpiOTrwy. 
 
 It  has  been  objected  to  this  origin  of  the  rainbow,  that  it 
 must,  from  the  nature  of  things,  have  already  existed.  The 
 usual  reply  of  our  divines  (Waterland,  &c.)  is,  that  it  was  then 
 first  appointed  as  a  sign.  But  this  is  unsatisfactory.  It  may 
 be  justly  demanded,  why  a  familiar  phenomenon  should  have 
 been  chosen  for  the  purpose  of  conveying  a  most  important 
 promise,  which  it  had  never  been  capable  of  conveying  before. 
 Or,  how  are  we  to  conceive  that  He,  whose  resources  are  beyond 
 all  exhaustion,  would  have  adopted  means  which,  by  their  fa- 
 miliarity, were  altogether  destitute  of  the  evidence  of  a  Divine 
 interposition  ?     While,  if  the  bow  was  seen  in  the  cloud  for  the 
 
THE    NEW    WORLD.  281 
 
 first  time,  on  the  day  when  the  patriarchal  family  descended  to  their 
 new  empire,  what  could  be  a  more  impressive  attestation  of  the 
 Divine  will,  than  a  magnificent  meteor,  seeming  to  connect  the 
 earth  with  the  heavens  ;  and,  in  its  singular  serenity  and  ra- 
 diance, an  almost  direct  emblem  of  peace  and  power.  It  is 
 true  that  the  rainbow  is  formed  by  the  simple  law  of  refraction. 
 But,  though  it  is  the  child  of  the  shower,  who  can  tell  us  that  the 
 dwellers  in  the  land  of  Eden  had  ever  seen  rain,  until  the  day 
 of  the  deluge?  Who  sees  the  rainbow  in  three-fourths  of 
 Arabia?  In  Upper  Egypt,  and  the  v;st  districts  spreading  to 
 the  south,  rain  is  said  to  be  unknown.  And  yet  its  absence  is 
 consistent  with  great  fertility. 
 
 "  The  Prince  of  Fezzan  (a  kingdom  bounded  on  the  north  by 
 Tripoli,)  says  that,  in  his  country,  it  never  rains;  but  that  in- 
 numerable soft  springs  serve  to  moisten  the  earth,  and  keep  the 
 country  in  the  state  of  a  beautiful,  well-watered  garden.  The 
 fruits  produced  there  are  remarkably  fine,  and  the  Fezzan  dates 
 surpass  in  richness  all  others  in  AMca."— Tally's  Letters  from 
 Tripoli. 
 
 Fezzan  lies  within  the  natural  range  of  the  clouds  and  winds 
 of  the  Mediterranean  ;  but  its  protection  is,  that  it  is  surrounded 
 by  a  mountain  belt  on  all  sides,  but  the  west,  where  it  looks  to 
 the  Great  Desert.     If  Eden  were  thus  surrounded,  it  might  be 
 equally  a  stranger  to  the  shower.     The  whole  point  in  question 
 is  merely,  whether  the  small  and  secluded  tribe  of  the  Sethites 
 must  have  already  seen  or  heard  of  the  phenomenon  ?     That  the 
 Cainite  tribes,  the  rovers  over  the  great  continents,  might  have 
 witnessed  this  meteor,  in   common    with  every  other  of  their 
 various  climates,  is  not  in  dispute.     If  the  Sethites,  from  their 
 locality,  in  a  province  circled  by  hills,  had,  like  the  Fezzaners, 
 never  seen  the  rainbow  before  ;  its  first  appearance,  connected 
 with  a  Divine  declaration,  might  have  fully  answered  the  pur- 
 pose of  a  memorial.     A  fall  of  snow  in  Nubia,  connected  with 
 a  Divine  declaration,  would,  at  this  moment,  answer  the  pur- 
 pose  of  a   memorial ;   inferior,   however,   to  the  one  originally 
 chosen,  in  beauty,  in  evident  alliance  with  the  restored  tran- 
 
282  THE    NEW    WORLD. 
 
 quillity  of  the  elements,  and  in  frequency  of  return.  It  is 
 remarkable  that,  as  if  with  a  view  to  cavils  of  tliis  order,  we  are 
 expressly  told  to  attribute  the  irrigation  of  the  Garden  of  Eden 
 to  its  rivers,  and  to  the  "  dew,  that  went  up  and  watered  the 
 ground." 
 
CHAPTER   XXI. 
 
 THE  DIVISION  OF  THE  EARTH. 
 
 The  descendants  of  Noah  were  now  in  possession 
 of  one  of  the  most  commanding-  and  most  pro- 
 ductive regions  of  the  world,  a  natural  seat  of  em- 
 pire. The  Tauric  Chain,  stretching  from  Cilicia 
 through  nearly  the  whole  extent  of  the. greater 
 Asia,  throws  out,  from  Armenia,  two  mountain 
 ridges  to  the  South,  inclosing  the  vast  plains  of 
 Assyria,  Mesopotamia,  and  Susiana,  watered  by 
 the  Euphrates  and  Tigris.  The  first  settlement 
 is  supposed  to  have  been  made  in  the  plain  of 
 Erivan  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  a  district 
 still  remarkable  for  its  fertility,  and  peculiarly 
 for  the  vine  \ 
 
 Ararat,  the  highest  peak  in  Armenia,  is  called  by  the  natives 
 the  Macis,  or  "  Mother  of  the  World  ;"  and  by  the  Turks, 
 Agridah,  or  the  "  Great  Mountain."  From  its  steepness  and 
 its  perpetual  snow,  the  summit  is  completely  inaccessible.  To  the 
 Armenians  it  is  a  holy  hill ;  and  on  their  journeys,  they  acknow- 
 ledge its  first  sight,  which  sometimes  occurs  at  the  distance  of  ten 
 days'  journey,  by  prayer,  and  kissing  the  ground  !  The  mountain, 
 
284  THE    DIVISION 
 
 A  memorable  event  soon  followed,  which  show- 
 ed that  man  was  still  the  same  mixture  of  weak- 
 ness as  his  ancestors.  Noah  planted  a  vineyard  ; 
 "  and  he  drank  of  the  wine  and  was  drunken." 
 His  son  Ham  contemptuously  called  his  brothers 
 to  look  upon  the  humiliation  of  their  father ;  but 
 Shem  and  Japhet,  with  filial  virtue,  refusing  to 
 join  in  this  mockery,  would  not  lift  up  their  eyes, 
 but  "  took  a  garment,  and  went  backward,  and 
 covered  him  as  he  lay\"  The  candour  of  the 
 Scriptures,  which  know  no  respect  of  persons, 
 has  here  been  perverted  into  a  charge  against 
 the  Patriarch  and  against  Providence.  But  en- 
 snared, as  Noah  undoubtedly  was,  by  appetite  ; 
 it  must  be  considered,  that  he  might  have  been 
 totally  unacquainted  with  the  nature  of  his 
 hazard.  The  grape,  of  all  the  fruits  of  earth  the 
 one  most  directly  given  for  enjoyment,  had  pro- 
 bably never  ripened  under   the  curse  of  the  old 
 
 nearly  a  cone,  and  covered  with  snow  half  way  down  from  its 
 pinnacle,  presents  a  magnificent  object  in  the  pure  air  and  trans- 
 parent sky  of  that  fine  country.  The  natives  believe,  not  only  that 
 the  ark  rested  upon  its  summit,  but  that  it  still  exists  there. 
 It  is  now  the  subject  of  much  popular  fable.  The  Armenian 
 patriarch,  living  at  Erivan,  told  Tournefort  that  the  ark  had 
 been  actually  seen,  yet  seen  but  once  in  the  memory  of  man, 
 by  a  monk  of  peculiar  sanctity  ;  who,  after  fifty  years  of  fasting 
 and  supplication  that  he  might  be  honoured  with  the  sight,  was 
 borne  up  miraculously,  but  was  so  pierced  with  the  cold,  that 
 immediately  on  his  return  he  died. 
 '  Gen.  ix.  20. 
 
OF   THE    EARTH.  285 
 
 world  ;  the  simplicity  of  its  manufacture  into 
 wine  would  require  no  previous  knowledge  of  its 
 properties;  and  the  draught  might  have  been 
 swallowed,  after  a  day  of  toil  under  the  burning 
 sky  of  Asia,  without  a  sense  of  danger  in  an  in- 
 dulgence hitherto  unknown  to  man.  The  error 
 of  Noah  was  the  error  of  ignorance  ;  and  conse- 
 quently, we  cannot  discover  any  direct  mark  of 
 the  Divine  displeasure  visited  on  the  Patriarchal 
 head.  The  disrespect  of  Ham  was  wilful,  was 
 charged  as  a  crime,  and  was  the  source  of  a 
 prophetic  declaration,  that  his  descendant,  Ca- 
 naan, should  be  "a  servant  of  servants  to  his 
 brethren." 
 
 It  has  been  tauntingly  asked,  why  the  punish- 
 ment was  turned  from  the  criminal  to  his  pos- 
 terity ?  But  Ham,  having  been  already  blessed 
 as  one  of  the  sovereigns  of  the  earth,  it  mio;ht  be 
 inconsistent  with  the  ways  of  Providence  to  visit 
 him  with  personal  exclusion  ;  — the  punishment 
 which  degraded  his  line  might  be  more  severely 
 felt  by  himself,  and  be  more  important  as  a  lesson 
 to  mankind,  than  any  personal  suffering  : — finally, 
 the  curse  was  not  to  take  place,  until  it  had  been 
 earned  by  the  actual  crimes  of  the  Canaanites, 
 when  the  iniquity  of  the  land  was  full,  430  years 
 after  Abraham. 
 
 In  the  same  spirit  it  has  been  asked,   Was  the 
 Patriarch  entitled  to  call  down  veno-eance  on  his 
 
286  THE    DIVISION 
 
 son  for  the  detection  of  his  own  error  ?  But  tlie 
 answer  is,  that  the  denunciation  was  beyond  his 
 controul — that  the  entire  was  a  prophecy,  by 
 which  Providence  declared  the  characteristic  for- 
 tunes of  the  three  great  famihes  of  the  human 
 race  :  the  religious  supremacy  of  the  descendants 
 of  Shem  ;  the  warlike  and  opulent  supremacy  of 
 those  of  Japhet ;  and  the  general  inferiority  of 
 those  of  Ham  in  both  religion  and  arms ; — and 
 that,  instead  of  a  vindictive  triumph  in  the  de- 
 livery of  this  high  and  far-reaching  prediction, 
 there  might  have  been  a  pang,  the  single  touch 
 of  the  Divine  hand  for  his  excess,  in  the  forced 
 knowledge,  that  sin  and  sorrow  should  3'et  return 
 to  a  world,  which  had  paid  so  solemn  a  penalty 
 for  its  purification. 
 
 The  transaction,  in  all  its  parts, — the  planting 
 of  the  vineyard,  the  rash  indulgence,  the  ex- 
 posure by  the  irreverent  son,  the  veiling  by 
 Shem  and  Japhet,  and  the  prediction,  has  had  its 
 strictly  corresponding  events  in  one  of  the  most 
 memorable  periods  of  the  Christian  world. 
 
 The  subsequent  years  of  the  great  Patriarch 
 saw  the  complete  fulfilment  of  that  prophecy  by 
 which  his  name  was  given.  In  his  days  "  com- 
 fort" was  come  :  after  all  the  outrages  of  the  early 
 world,  and  the  desolations  of  the  flood,  the  earth 
 had  found  her  Rest.  It  w^as  the  Sabbath  of  the 
 Lord,   the   day   of  the   supremacy  of  religion,   of 
 
OF    THE    EARTH.  287 
 
 universal  peace,  and  of  the  universal  empire  of 
 the  Patriarchal  family,  the  kingdom  of  the  sons 
 of  God,   a  Sabbath  of  500  years. 
 
 This  period  must  not  be  confounded  with  any 
 portion  of  the  world's  existence,   before  or  after. 
 The  visible  sign  of  the  covenant  in  Heaven,  the 
 abolition  of  the  curse,  and  the  transmission  of  the 
 universal  sceptre  into  the  hands  of  the  Patriarchal 
 h'ne,  were  features  to  which  no  similitude  is  found 
 in  any  other  era  from  the  creation  to  Christianity. 
 The  dominion,  in  the  beginning,  must,  of  course* 
 have  been  over  a  desert;   but  the  natural  rapidity 
 of  increase,   in  the  finest  regions  of  Asia,   undis- 
 turbed by  war,  and  unchecked  by  boundary,  must 
 have  more  than  rivalled  all  that  later  ages  have 
 known  of  the  burst  of  human  existence.     Spread- 
 ing, under  advantages  such   as   have  never  been 
 enjoyed  since,  to  the  same  extent,  by  man ;  with 
 no  severity  of  climate  to  encounter,  no  unhealthi- 
 ness  of  soil,  no  hostile  savage,  no  barren  and  in- 
 hospitable wilderness;  the  tide  of  population  must 
 have  poured  over  the  teeming  plains  of  Asia  with 
 force  incalculable. 
 
 At  the  close  of  this  period,  another  great  change 
 was  at  hand.  The  multitudes,  gathered  under 
 the  Patriarchal  chieftains  in  the  space  of  541 
 years,  were  to  be  sent  forth  to  take  possession  of 
 the  globe'.      Two   vast  colonies   now   moved   to 
 
 '  The  usual  computation  is,  that  even  in  .300  years  tliey  must 
 have  amounted  to  as  many  millions.     But  this  calculation  pro- 
 
288  THE    DIVISION 
 
 the  North  and  South.  The  descendants  of  Shem, 
 the  chosen  Patriarch,  remained  nearly  in  the 
 land  of  their  ancestors,  enlarging  it  by  the  ad- 
 joining territories  once  possessed  by  Japhet  and 
 Ham.  Their  empire  comprehended  the  fairest 
 portion  of  the  earth, — Syria,  Assyria,  Palestine, 
 Persia,  and  the  north  of  Arabia.  To  the  de- 
 scendants of  Ham  were  given  the  unlimited  re- 
 gions of  the  South,  with  a  portion  •  of  the  East, 
 the  descendants  of  Japhet  were  made  lords  of  the 
 future  lands  of  War,  Commerce,  and  the  Arts, 
 Greece,  Italy,  Spain,  Gaul,  and  the  north  of 
 Europe  and  Asia ;  a  dominion  teeming  with  all 
 the  materials  of  power,  but  extending  into  the 
 wildest  regions  and  severest  climates  of  the  earth. 
 The  division  was  made  to  each  of  the  three  great 
 tribes,  "  to  every  one,  after  his  tongue,  after  their 
 families,  after  their  nations  ^"  Expressions  which, 
 
 ceeds  on  the  unauthorized  ground,  that  the  births  occurred  as 
 early  in  the  Patriarchal  ages  as  now.  Petavius  calculates  them 
 from  the  age  of  seventeen  ;  they  were  more  likely  to  have  begun 
 from  the  age  of  a  hundred ;  gradually,  however,  becoming 
 earlier  with  the  diminution  of  longevity. 
 
 *  This  single  expression,  "  After  his  tongue,"  shows  that 
 the  division  was  allotted  according  to  the  future  condition  of 
 those  colonies,  when  they  should  enlarge  into  empires.  For,  at 
 the  period  of  the  division  we  are  expressly  told,  that  all  the 
 descendants  of  Noah  were  of  "  one  speech."  The  diversity  of 
 language  was  a  fact  of  subsequent  occurrence  ;  in  Shinaar  itself 
 half  a  century  distant,  and  in  the  remoter  and  more  isolated 
 .settlements,  probably  some  ages.     Tlie  allotment  with  respect 
 
OF    THE    EARTH.  289 
 
 clearly  imply  a  deliberate,  prospective  arrange- 
 ment of  territory  by  Providence,  according  to  their 
 future  habits,  numbers,  and  characters'. 
 
 to  "  nations"  was  of  the  same  character — it  referred  to  time. 
 In  Genesis,  (x.  20.  31.)  the  expression  "  after  their  tongues," 
 is  directly  referred  to  the  period  when  the  remote  descendants 
 of  Shem,  Ham,  and  Japhet,  were  actually  in  possession. 
 
 '  The  whole  tenor  of  Scripture  confirms  the  idea,  that  this 
 extraordinary  movement  was  the  result  of  a  direct  impulse  of 
 the  Divine  will.  The  declaration  of  Moses  to  the  Israelites, 
 "  Hath  He  not  made  thee  and  established  thee  ?  Remember 
 the  days  of  old  :  consider  the  years  of  many  generations.  Ask 
 thy  father,  and  he  will  show  thee  ;  thy  elders,  and  they  will  tell 
 thee.  When  the  Most  High  divided  to  the  nations  their  inherit- 
 ance, when  He  separated  the  sons  of  Adam,  He  set  the  bounds 
 of  the  people  according  to  the  number  of  the  children  of  Israel." 
 (Deut.  xxxii.  7.)  And  St.  Paul's  declaration  to  the  Gentiles,  "  He 
 hath  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men  to  dwell  on  the  face 
 of  the  earth,  and  hath  determined  the  times  before  appointed,  and 
 the  bounds  of  their  habitation,"  (Acts  xvii.  26.)  express  the 
 same  fact,  of  a  determinate  location  of  the  original  possessors, 
 with  a  view  to  the  future ;  for  we  can  scarcely  conceive  this 
 solemn  and  formal  language  to  be  adopted  merely  to  state  the 
 vague  and  general  truth,  acknowledged  by  both  Jew  and  Gen- 
 tile, that  the  general  conduct  of  the  world  was  in  the  hands  of 
 Providence.  The  prophetic  name  of  Peleg  (Division),  given  140 
 years  before,  as  much  argues  a  Divine  determination  to  spread 
 the  tribes  over  the  earth,  as  the  prophetic  name  of  Noah,  a  Di- 
 vine determination  to  restore  the  earth  from  the  havoc  of  the 
 Deluge.  "  The  main  point  in  the  origin  of  nations  is,  The 
 certainty  of  the  propagation  of  mankind  from  the  posterity  of 
 Noah  ;  of  which  there  is  strong  and  convincing  evidence  in  the 
 names  of  the  nations  themselves,  which  have  preserved  the 
 original  name  of  their  founder  in  their  own  :  as  the  Medes  from 
 
 U 
 
290  THE    DIVISION 
 
 The  progress  of  this  great  movement  was 
 gradual,  and  is  supposed  to  have  occupied  four 
 hundred  years.  Large  intermediate  districts  must 
 have  been  left  either  desert  or  thinly  inhabited  ; 
 for  even  in  Palestine,  so  late  as  the  time  of  Abra- 
 ham, much  of  the  land  was  evidently  unappro- 
 priated. But  this  pacific  possession  of  the  terri- 
 tory was  speedily  violated  in  the  East.  A  tribe 
 of  Cushites,  headed  by  Nin  \  or  Nimrod,  which 
 had  originally  been  settled  to  the  East  of  Baby- 
 lonia, suddenly  returned,  and  seized  Shinaar,  the 
 patrimony  of  the  Arphaxadites.  The  agricultural 
 wealth  of  the  sons  of  Shem,  or  the  peculiar  fer- 
 tility of  their  land,  may  have  excited  the  invasion  ; 
 which  thus  established  a  new  reign  of  rapine 
 among  mankind.  Of  the  great  devastators  be- 
 fore the  deluge,  the  historian  had  said,   "  They 
 
 Medai,  the  Thracians  from  Thiras,  the  lonians  from  Javan, 
 the  Sidonians  from  Sidon  ;  the  Elymaeans,  Assyrians,  Lydians, 
 from  Elam,  Assur,  and  Lud,  &c."  ( StilUngJleet,  Origines 
 Sacrce.  117.)  He  also  derives  the  Pelasgi,  or  general  name  of 
 the  settlers  of  Greece,  from  Peleg. 
 
 '  The  word  Nin,  interpreted  the  "  Son,"  as  the  direct  de- 
 scendant, (in  the  4th  generation,)  or  most  powerful  of  the  sons 
 of  Cush,  the  commentators  suppose  to  have  been  changed 
 into  Nimrod,  (the  rebel,)  according  to  a  Jewish  custom  of  fixing 
 names  of  hatred  or  ridicule  on  the  objects  of  their  hostility. 
 Thus  Nachash,  the  brazen  serpent,  (broken  by  Hezekiah,  that 
 it  might  not  lead  the  people  into  idolatry)  was  called  Nachashtan, 
 (a  piece  of  brass).  Thus  the  name  of  Beelzebub  was  changed 
 into  Beelzebul  (a  god  of  dung). 
 
OF    THE    EARTH.  291 
 
 became  mighty  men,  which  were  of  old,  men  of 
 renown."  The  rapine  of  the  invader  of  Shinaar 
 was,  like  theirs,  colossal.  "  He  began  to  be  a 
 mighty  one  in  the  earth  ;  a  mighty  hunter  before 
 the  Lord ;'"  a  model  of  the  future  leaders  of 
 revolution,  a  post-diluvian  giant  in  evil. 
 
 From  the  plain  of  Shinaar,  whose  central  situa- 
 tion incomparably  adapted  it  for  the  seat  of  uni- 
 versal dominion,  the  Conqueror  proceeded  to 
 extend  and  consolidate  his  conquests.  He  invaded 
 the  remaining  patrimony  of  the  race  of  Shem. 
 Having  commenced  the  building  of  eight  great 
 cities,  among  which  were  the  capitals,  or  fortresses, 
 of  Nineveh  and  Babel,  he  was  prepared  for  a 
 career  of  unlimited  subjugation.  In  ages,  which 
 saw  the  chief  settled  territories  in  possession  of 
 tribes  widely  separated,  probably  of  small  num- 
 bers, struggling  with  the  first  difficulties  of  solitary 
 life  in  the  forests  and  morasses  of  the  uncultured 
 world,  and  totally  destitute  of  that  combination, 
 which  forms  the  strength  of  empire  ;  a  bold 
 barbarian  might  have  overrun  half  the  earth,  with- 
 out effective  resistance ;  and  by  extending  one 
 fierce  and  iron   authority  over  man,   might  have 
 
 The  Hebrew  idiom  frequently  makes  a  superlative  by 
 adding  the  name  of  the  Deity.  "  A  great  city  to  God,"  (Jonah 
 iii.  3.)  is  a  city  of  extraordinary  magnitude.  Such  is  the 
 general  idea  of  the  Commentators.  (Patrick,  &c.)  In  the  in- 
 stance of  the  usurper,  Nimrod,  at  least,  it  could  not  have  been 
 connected  with  approval. 
 
 u2 
 
292  THE    DIVISION 
 
 finally  arrested  the  progress  of  all  improvement, 
 broken  the  spirit  of  the  human  race,  and,  with  a 
 still  more  fatal  success,  compelled  the  adoption  of 
 every  impurity  of  his  profligate  will,  or  his  infidel 
 religion.  That  this  danger  was  not  chimerical, 
 is  evident ;  from  the  extraordinary  influence  of 
 Nimrod,  brief  as  was  his  empire.  Under  the 
 allegorical  titles  of  Baal,  Bel,  Belus,  and  Bela 
 Ramah,  he  became  the  emblem  of  Deity  to  the 
 Phoenicians,  Assyrians,  Greeks,  and  Hindoos, 
 and  through  them  to,  perhaps,  all  the  powerful 
 nations  of  Paganism.  With  the  Orientals,  the 
 sun  was  declared  his  image,  or  his  throne.  With 
 the  imaginative  Greeks,  he  took  his  perpetual 
 place  among  the  stars,  and  they  saw  in  the  mag- 
 nificent constellation  of  "  the  mighty  hunter," 
 Orion,  the  splendour  and  supremacy  of  the  Great 
 Babylonian  King.  The  policy  of  building  Babylon 
 is  declared  by  the  Scriptures  to  have  been  grounded 
 on  the  fear  of  dispersion,  and  the  desire  of  making 
 a  name  ;  in  other  words,  of  forming  and  fixing 
 an  empire.  The  means  are  perfectly  adapted  to 
 the  object,  and  to  the  circumstances. 
 
 The  habits  of  mankind,  sent  to  seek  their  settle- 
 ments over  the  face  of  the  globe,  must  have  been, 
 for  ages,  those  of  Nomades,  shepherd  tribes  roving 
 without  limit  over  the  mighty  waste,  assembling, 
 and  separating  again  as  rapidly,  according  to  the 
 caprice  or  necessities  of  the  time.  To  fix  his 
 tribes,  by  local   habitation,  and  the  manners   of 
 
OF    THE    EARTH.  293 
 
 civilized  life,  the  building  of  cities  was  the  most 
 natural  expedient  of  the  sagacious  chieftain,  whom 
 they  had  followed  to  the  conquest  of  Shinaar ; 
 yet,  whom  they  might  desert  at  a  moment,  to 
 wander  through  the  desert  once  more,  and  leave 
 his  empire  a  shadow.  Babylon  was  the  conso- 
 lidation of  this  force  ;  and  nothing  could  be  more 
 menacing  to  mankind.  With  an  impregnable 
 centre  of  power,  with  habits  of  conquest,  with  a 
 compact  and  fixed  population,  the  sovereign  of 
 Babel  must  have  been  irresistible  by  the  uncom- 
 bined  and  undisciplined  tribes  scattered  over  Asia, 
 or  the  globe.  Human  resistance  being  thus  hope- 
 less ;  it  may  be  not  uninteresting  to  inquire,  by 
 what  use  of  the  ordinary  instruments  of  Provi- 
 dence this  ruinous  torrent  of  power  could  have 
 been  turned  back  to  its  source.  To  have  inspired 
 a  sudden  spirit  of  combined  hostility  into  the  scat- 
 tered nations,  might  have  broken  up  their  habits  of 
 industry,  have  required  a  miracle  for  their  mere 
 assemblage  in  sufficient  force,  and  have  largely 
 extended  human  misery,  if  not  ended  only  by 
 exchanging  one  usurpation  for  another.  Famine, 
 or  pestilence,  might  have  extinguished  the  usurpa- 
 tion and  its  armies ;  but  the  punishment  might 
 have  been  more  severe  than  seemed  fitting  to  the 
 Divine  mercy  ;  the  visitation  too  might  have  been 
 attributed  to  human  casualty  :  and,  in  all  events, 
 the  moral  would  probably  be  lost  to  all  but  the 
 
294  THE    DIVISION 
 
 lookers  on  ;  with  the  dead  the  Divine  lesson  might 
 have  died. 
 
 But,  a  work  was  wrought,  which,  avoiding  all 
 hazards,  yet  applied  the  most  simple,  effective, 
 and  comprehensive  of  all  remedies  ; — their  speech 
 was  confounded  by  miracle  !  The  use  of  a  common 
 language  was  lost ;  and  the  result  was  the  imme- 
 diate and  bloodless  cessation  of  that  building,  to 
 shake  which  the  blood  of  all  the  tribes  of  earth 
 miffht  have  been  lavished  in  vain  ^ 
 
 The  miracle  was  fully  adequate  to  the  result, 
 the  dispersion  of  the  overwhelming  multitude 
 which  made  Babel  hazardous  to  the  earth.  By 
 dissolving  the  unity  of  tongue  the  unity  of  govern- 
 ment was  dissolved  at  the  moment ;  discipline, 
 polity,  military  order,  kingly  authority,  were 
 incapable  of  being  enforced  in  an  universal  mix- 
 ture of  unknown  languages.  The  migratory  habits 
 of  the  people  were  thus  free  to  return,  and  return 
 with  additional  strength.  For,  the  same  diversity  of 
 tongues  which  prohibited  their  union  as  an  empire, 
 
 '  The  miracle  speaks  only  of  the  builders  of  Babel.  But 
 those  builders  probably  included  the  great  majority  of  the 
 nation.  In  the  early  ages,  when  main  force  was  the  only  in- 
 strument, all  was  done  by  multitude.  Thus,  it  is  said  that 
 the  building  of  the  great  pyramid  occupied  the  labour  of  300,000 
 men  for  twenty  years. — {Diodor.)  Nearly  the  entire  of  the 
 Israelites,  two  millions,  seem  to  have  shared  in  the  public 
 works.  The  building  of  the  walls  and  dwellings  of  Babylon 
 may  have  occupied  the  whole  disposable  population. 
 
OF    THE    EARTH.  295 
 
 would  prohibit  their  union  as  tribes.  In  their 
 rovings,  they  would  naturally  divide  into  as  many 
 distinct  clans  as  there  were  languages ;  and  thus 
 broken  up  and  comminuted,  each  would  wander 
 its  own  way,  until  it  was  stopped  by  some  natural 
 barrier  of  mountain,  forest,  or  ocean  ;  where  it 
 settled  at  last,  spread  its  population,  and  pro- 
 pagated its  language.  "  So  the  Lord  scattered 
 them  abroad  from  thence  on  the  face  of  all  the 
 earth.''  The  instrument  was  Divine,  but  the  pro- 
 cess was  true  to  nature. 
 
 Commentators,  following  the  Oriental  traditions, 
 have  attempted  to  invest  the  miracle  with  addi- 
 tional dignity,  by  wrapping  the  tower  and  city  in 
 fire  from  heaven.  But  the  sacred  narrative  sim- 
 ply, and  much  more  consistently,  tells  us,  that 
 "  the  builders  left  off  to  build  the  city."  The  in- 
 terposition was  adequate  to  the  effect,  and  the 
 effect  adequate  to  the  purpose.  Babel  was  not 
 destroyed  ;  it  was  still  inhabited,  powerful,  and 
 the  head  of  an  empire ;  but  its  ambition  was  bar- 
 red, and  its  dangerous  strength  smitten  away,  by 
 the  dispersion  of  that  overwhelming  multitude 
 which  it  once  held  ready  to  pour  on  the  surround- 
 ing world. 
 
 Yet  it  becomes  a  question,  why  the  world  was 
 to  suffer  the  evils  inevitable  to  a  confusion  of 
 tongues,  for  the  crime  of  the  usurping  empire. 
 The  reason  may  be  found,  in  its  avoidance  of  the 
 heavier  evils  inevitable  to  a  state  of  slavery.     The 
 
296  THE    DIVISION 
 
 Divine  interposition  had  baffled  the  attempt  of  the 
 Babylonian  sovereign  "  to  make  himself  a  name." 
 But  the  attempt  was  too  congenial  to  human  cupi- 
 dity to  have  remained  long  untried  by  some  other 
 of  the  daring  spirits  of  mankind.  A  new  African 
 or  European  Nimrod  might  have  raised  a  new 
 centre  of  empire,  and  the  freedom  of  the  world 
 might  have  required  a  new  miracle.  War  in  all 
 ages  is  the  supreme  scourge  of  society  ;  and  if,  in 
 all  the  established  strength  of  kingdoms  in  our 
 day,  it  shakes  them  to  their  foundations  ;  with 
 what  ruinous  and  irrecoverable  wreck  mic^ht  it 
 not  have  crushed  the  little  fluctuating  tenancies  of 
 the  infant  world  ?  But  there  was  another  element 
 of  hazard  in  the  constitution  of  the  first  ages,  and 
 one  which  rendered  it  of  the  highest  providential 
 importance  to  draw  within  the  narrowest  possible 
 limits  all  the  means  of  war.  The  life  of  man  was 
 still  of  almost  ante-diluvian  length  ;  the  life  of  the 
 Patriarch  Reu,  the  contemporary  of  Nimrod,  was 
 '239  years.  What  devastation  might  not  be  within 
 the  hands  of  a  conqueror  wasting  the  world  for 
 two  hundred  years  ?  Mahomet  was  but  ten  years 
 at  the  head  of  armies  :  in  those  ten  he  swept 
 Arabia,  Syria,  and  shook  the  Greek  empire,  from 
 its  topmost  stone.  Tamerlane,  within  five-and 
 thirty  years,  ravaged  from  the  Volga  to  the  Per- 
 sian Gulf,  and  from  the  Ganges  to  the  Mediterra- 
 nean. What  limit  could  have  been  placed  to  the 
 empire  of  the  fiery  Arab,  with  two  hundred  years 
 
OF    THE    EARTH.  297 
 
 of  life  before  him  ?  Or  of  the  great  king  of  Sa- 
 marcand,  already  master  of  Tartary,  Persia,  and 
 India,  and  waiting  only  for  the  conquest  of  China, 
 to  turn  his  face  westward,  and  roll  the  tide  of  war 
 over  Europe  ?  Or,  what  would  have  been  the  fate 
 of  Europe,  and  of  all  nations,  if  that  extraordinary 
 man  of  our  own  day,  who,  in  a  career  of  ten  years  *, 
 drove  his  chariot  wheels  again  and  again  over  the 
 armed  neck  of  the  Continent ;  had  two  hundred 
 years  of  life  before  him,  with  the  original,  enthu- 
 siastic millions  of  the  Revolution,  untired  by  age, 
 and  unthinned  by  time,  to  fight  his  battles  ?  The 
 world  might  have  been  loaded  with  a  w^eight  of 
 chains  that  must  cripple  and  bow  it  down,  until  it 
 had  lost  all  power  of  restoration.  The  heart  of 
 man  might  have  been  worn  away  by  the  hopeless 
 length  of  the  struggle ;  slavery  might  have  be- 
 come the  natural  attitude  of  mankind  ;  the  earth 
 might  have  been  covered  with  an  eruption  of  fire 
 and  blood,  sufficient  to  burn  out  the  living  prin- 
 ciple, and  leave  it  encumbered  with  a  solid  weight 
 of  sterility  and  ruin,  through  which  no  future 
 labour  of  mankind  could  pierce  to  the  moral  soil. 
 No  difference  of  languages  could  prevent  inva- 
 sion ;  but,  of  all  the  obstacles  to  permanent  posses- 
 sion, that  difference  is  the  most  intractable.  It  is 
 a  perpetual  principle  of  alienation,  the  most  stub- 
 born remembrancer  of  old  ties,  and  the  most  inve- 
 
 *  The  French  Empire,  a.  d.  1804—1814. 
 
298  THE    DIVISION 
 
 terate  repellent  of  new,  to  be  found  in  all  the 
 impulses  of  man.  The  miracle  completely  effected 
 its  purposes,  immediate  and  final.  It  suppressed 
 all  projects  of  universal  empire.  Of  Nimrod, 
 thenceforth,  nothing  more  is  known,  than  that  he 
 left  his  dominions  to  a  dynasty,  which  soon  lost 
 Assyria,  and  sank  for  a  thousand  years ;  at  the 
 end  of  that  period  it  was  suffered  to  emerge  under 
 Ninus  the  Second,  was  enlarged  by  Semiramis, 
 and  raised  to  the  first  rank  by  Nebuchadnezzar. 
 But  it  was  no  longer  within  the  faculties  of  any 
 Oriental  throne  to  possess  universal  dominion  ; 
 the  universal  language,  which  once  might  have 
 made  a  highway  for  its  armies  over  the  earth,  was 
 at  an  end  ;  a  thousand  years  of  separate  tongues 
 had  dissevered  the  habits  of  mankind.  For  many 
 ages  the  principle  of  clanship  prevailed,  and  re- 
 sisted the  principle  of  empire.  Conquest  had  no 
 power  to  combine  materials  whose  nature  was 
 repulsion  ;  the  East  was  covered  with  petty  chief- 
 tainries ;  Joshua  found  twenty  kings  in  the  small 
 province  of  Palestine  ;  the  sway  of  the  "  golden 
 head"  of  Eastern  empire  was  dangerous  no  more  ; 
 and,  after  the  first  sweep  of  conquest,  the  limit  of 
 its  speech  was  nearly  the  limit  of  its  power'. 
 
 '  Few  things  are  more  remarkable  than  the  rapid  decay  of  the 
 great  empires.  Of  the  early  Assyrian,  nominally  of  1200  years' 
 duration,  we  know  little,  but  that  it  lingered  on,  scarcely  bear- 
 ing the  texture  of  an  empire,  wasted  by  profligate  governors 
 and  provincial  rebellions  ;   the  history  of  an  empire  of  savages. 
 
OF    THE    EARTH.  299 
 
 The  Babylonian,  raised  to  supremacy  by  Nebuchadnezzar, 
 scarcely  survived  himself;  the  Persian  continued  but  two  cen- 
 turies and  a  half;  the  Macedonian  perished  with  its  founder. 
 The  Roman  was  a  memorable  exception  ;  but  its  first  300  years 
 were  limited  to  an  Italian  province,  and  its  last  200  were  years 
 of  decay.  Yet  there  was  also  a  sufficient  and  peculiar  reason 
 for  the  continuance  and  extent  of  its  dominion  :  in  the  direct 
 instrumentality  of  the  Republic  in  bringing  the  earth  under  a 
 general  similitude  of  government ;  and  of  the  Empire,  in  keep- 
 ing it  under  a  general  control ;  and  both,  for  the  express  service 
 of  Christianity. 
 
CHAPTER  XXII. 
 
 THE  CONFUSION  OF  TONGUES. 
 
 The  miracle  of  Babel  receives  the  fullest  human 
 confirmation  from  its  existing  results  :  it  is  the 
 only  satisfactory  mode  of  accounting  for  the  di- 
 versities of  language.  There  are  probably  up- 
 wards of  two  hundred  distinct  dialects  or  lan- 
 guages in  the  earth.  The  principle  of  all  is  the 
 same — the  relation  of  the  noun  to  the  verb,  of  the 
 thing  to  the  action ;  yet  the  discrepancies  are  so 
 various,  so  wide,  so  intricate,  and  yet  so  sys- 
 tematic, as  to  imply  an  influence  totally  beyond 
 the  mere  rude  anomalies  produced  by  time  : 
 this  was  the  work  of  the  "  Confusion."  The  sub- 
 sequent "  Dispersion"  offers  the  only  rational  ac- 
 count of  the  universality  of  the  change. 
 
 The  great  division  of  the  earth  had  taken  place 
 but  about  half  a  century  before.  At  that  time  "the 
 whole  earth  was  of  one  speech."  Those  diversities 
 are  not  to  be  explained  by  novelty  of  objects,  changes 
 of  clime,  or  general  incidents  in  the  condition  of 
 remote  tribes  :  for  such  causes  could  not  alter  the 
 construction.     There  is  nothing  of  which  nations 
 
THE    CONFUSION    OF    TONGUES.  301 
 
 are  more  tenacious  than  their  original  language  *. 
 We  have  living  experience  how  slightly  coloniza- 
 tion on  the  broadest  scale  affects  lano-uao-e.  New 
 words,  perhaps  new  phrases,  barbarize  or  amplify 
 the  original  speech,  but  the  construction  remains 
 unshaken.  Yet,  it  was  the  construction,  which 
 was  chiefly  changed  ! 
 
 The  three  Quarters  of  the  old  world  have  each 
 a  peculiar  system  of  language.  They  all  employ 
 words  sufficiently  like,  to  show  that  they  had  once 
 a  common  origin  ;  they  all  use  a  fabric  so  strik- 
 ingly distinct,  as  to  show  that  a  complete  general 
 change  has  operated  on  the  original  materials,  and 
 recombined  them  in  another  form  ^. 
 
 The  construction  of  the  three  great  families  of 
 language,  the  oriental,  the  western,  and  the 
 northern,  is  actually  so  distinct ;  that  a  new 
 wonder  arises  from  the  perfect  adequacy  of  each 
 
 ^  The  Latin  of  Plautus  was  perfectly  intelligible  by  the 
 populace  in  Italy  to  the  time  of  Theocloric,  a  period  of  700 
 years.  Homer's  Greek  was  vernacular  for  nearly  3000  years. 
 Hebrew  and  Arabic  seem  never  to  have  changed,  from  the  be- 
 ginning. Some  curious  remarks  on  this  subject  will  be  found 
 in  JVotlon. 
 
 *  The  common  conjecture,  that  the  "  confusion"  meant  no 
 more  than  a  confusion  of  the  lip,  a  lisp,  or  deficiency  of  articu- 
 lation, is  inconsistent  with  the  whole  narrative.  A  lisp  would 
 be  altogether  inadequate  to  produce  the  effect  of  compelling  a 
 willing  populace  or  an  ambitious  leader  to  forego  anything.  It 
 is  true  that  HSti^  means  lij),  but  lip  means  speech.  It  was 
 already  declared  that  "  the  earth  was  of  one  lip,"  which  can 
 mean  nothing  but  a  general  language. 
 
302  THE    CONFUSION    OF    TONGUES. 
 
 to  perform  all  the  purposes  of  human  communi- 
 cation. The  Hebrew,  and  its  kindred  languages, 
 in  general,  form  the  various  cases  by  syllables 
 permanently  fixed  to  the  beginning  of  the  word  ; 
 the  Greek,  and  its  kindred,  by  syllables  per- 
 manently fixed  to  the  end.  The  northern  by 
 syllables  unfixed.  The  oriental  verb  abounds  in 
 Voices ;  the  Hebrew  has  seven ;  the  Arabic  thirteen ; 
 the  Chaldee  and  Syriac  have  six,  &c.  ;  the  western 
 has  two,  or  at  most  three.  The  northern  has  none  ; 
 it  expresses  the  active  and  passive  by  auxiliaries. 
 And  those  distinctions  reach  back  to  the  earliest 
 times ;  the  Homeric  language  of  three  thousand 
 years  ago  possesses  all  those  characteristics  in 
 even  greater  prominence  than  the  Greek  of  our 
 day'. 
 
 The  northern  languages  have  never  exhibited 
 either  the  prefix  or  the  affix.  In  fact,  the  more 
 remote  the  period  of  each,  the  more  marked  is 
 the  difference.  The  first  operation  of  the  miracle 
 seems  to  have  been — a  total  discrepancy  in  the 
 three  ;  which  it  has  been  the  work  of  time  to 
 soften  away  by  communication,  in  the  various 
 shapes  of  government,  commerce,  and  literature. 
 But,  while  each  has  a  separate  spirit,  and  we  can 
 almost  trace  in  the  simplicity,  force,  and  grandeur, 
 of  the  Hebrew  and  its  tribe,  something  of  a  simi- 
 
 '  The  modern  Greek  has  adopted  the  "  shall"  and  "  will" 
 of  the  northern  languages — an  innovation  which  singularly 
 subverts  the  elegance  of  its  mechanism,  but  which  was  pro- 
 bably the  result  of  long  slavery  to  the  Teutonic  tribes. 
 
THE    CONFUSION    OF    TONGUES.  303 
 
 litude  to  the  purity,  breadth,  and  arid  splendour, 
 of  its  landscape  and  its  skies  ;  in  the  exuberant 
 copiousness  and  picturesque  power  of  the  Greek 
 the  language  of  a  land  of  romantic  loveliness,  and 
 ever-changing  variety;  and  in  the  wild,  bold,  and 
 expressive  dialects  of  the  north,  words  fitted  for 
 thoughts  engendered  by  the  depths  of  forests, 
 sullen  and  desolate  plains,  and  the  cloudy  magni- 
 ficence of  a  heaven  of  storms  ;  all  are  equally  and 
 admirably  capable  of  supplying-  every  passion  and 
 purpose  of  the  human  heart  with  the  means  of 
 developing  itself  to  mankind. 
 
 But  an  extraordinary  revolution  in  languao-e  is 
 already  preparing.     The  prophetic  announcement 
 that  a  day  is  to  arrive,  when  one  great  Divine 
 authority  shall  preside  over  all  nations,   has  long 
 constituted    a    prominent    hope    of  Christianity. 
 The  times,  when  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth  shall 
 become    ''  the    kingdom    of   the   Lord  ;"     when 
 "  the    stone    cut    out   of  the    mountain    without 
 hands,"  shall  enlarge  into  the  dimensions  of  the 
 globe ;  are  connected  with  such  extensive  promises 
 of  human  happiness,  and  such  superb  displays  of 
 providential  wisdom,  that  the  most  subdued  ima- 
 gmation  may  feel  a  resistless  interest  in  watching 
 every  gleam  of  their  coming,  whether  from  earth 
 or   heaven.     It   might    be    naturally    conceived, 
 that,   as  the  lawless  absorption  of  all  kingdoms 
 into  one  was  prohibited   by  the  division  of  lan- 
 guages,  their  rightful  union  would   be  preceded 
 7 
 
304  THE    CONFUSION    OF    TONGUES. 
 
 by  at  least  the  partial  removal  of  the  obstacle.  And 
 it  is  remarkable,  that  a  process  strongly  tending  to 
 restore  an  universal  language  has  been  in  action 
 for  the  last  century ;  in  accelerated  action  from 
 the  beginning  of  the  present;  and,  within  the  last 
 ten  years,  in  still  more  rapid  and  vigorous  action, 
 year  by  year.  The  British  settlements  in  America 
 had  rendered  the  English  language,  a  hundred 
 years  ago,  co-extensive  with  the  most  prosperous 
 and  active  colony  in  the  world.  But  this  was  a 
 conquest  over  a  desert,  or  over  the  jargon  of 
 savages.  In  1805,  an  unconscious  effort  com- 
 menced, to  shake  the  local  exclusiveness  of  every 
 other  language,  savage  and  civilized.  The  extra- 
 ordinary propagation  of  the  Scriptures,  though  in 
 the  native  tongues,  yet,  connected  as  it  was  with 
 English  translation,  English  missions,  influence, 
 intercourse  and  literature,  gave  a  signal  impulse 
 to  the  progress  of  the  language  ;  together  with  an 
 increased  and  merited  sense  of  honour  for  the 
 national  character  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe. 
 Within  a  still  later  period,  a  sudden  efflux  of  the 
 British  population  has  spread  at  once  to  the  west, 
 the  south,  and  the  new  world  rising  in  the  waters 
 of  the  Pacific.  Canada,  to  the  Arctic  Circle,  and 
 the  Russian  frontier;  the  vast  regions  of  Southern 
 Africa;  and  New  Holland,  commanding  the  cloud 
 of  islands  of  the  surrounding  ocean  ;  are  the  re- 
 cent conquests  of  the  English  language.  But, 
 whether  above  or  below  the  Russ,  Chinese,   and 
 
THE  CONFUSION  OF  TONGUES.       305 
 
 Spanish,  in  extent  of  space ;  it  has  the  striking 
 superiority,  that  while  they  are  at  a  stand,  or 
 urged  on  only  by  authority,  it  is  advancing  by  its 
 nature;  that,  instead  of  being  in  the  hands  of 
 stagnant,  or  enslaved,  of  barbarous,  or  disunited 
 nations,  it  is  in  the  hands  of  the  most  enterprisino- 
 colonists  of  the  earth ;  the  most  intelligent,  dex- 
 trous, and  indefatigable  in  their  pursuits ;  conti- 
 nually receiving  fresh  accessions  of  numbers ; 
 already  holding  the  central  stations  from  which 
 they  overlook  the  most  opulent  and  jealous  re- 
 gions of  the  east ;  and  certain,  in  a  few  years,  to 
 penetrate  and  loosen  every  barrier,  till  all  sink 
 down  together,  before  the  progress  of  their  com- 
 merce, their  civilization,  and  their  language. 
 
 The  brevity  of  the  Mosaic  record,  down  to  the 
 call  of  Abraham,  has  often  excited  surprise. 
 Doubtless,  events  of  great  variety  and  interest 
 must  have  occurred  in  the  collisions,  corruptions, 
 and  restorations,  of  the  antediluvian  world.  But 
 the  reason  of  this  brevity  may  have  been  the  pre- 
 servation of  the  outline;  which  alone  was  import- 
 ant for  the  identification  of  the  plan  of  Providence 
 throughout  the  ages  to  come.  If  the  history  had 
 given  all  the  details,  that  outline  might*^have 
 been  too  difficult  to  trace.  But  now,  by  restrict- 
 ing the  narrative  to  those  leading  events  which 
 distinctly  formed  the  framework  of  the  Providen- 
 
 X 
 
306       THE  CONFUSION  OF  TONGUES. 
 
 tial  plan  in  the  first  ages,  we  see  its  course  clear. 
 We  have  the  map,  with  the  great  features  traced 
 upon  it,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  the  minor  promi- 
 nences. We  have  the  form,  undisguised  by  the 
 various  changes  and  involutions  of  the  robe. 
 Yet  this  but  the  more  distinctly  vindicates  the 
 inspiration  of  the  Pentateuch.  What  human  dex- 
 terity could  thus  anticipate  the  fates,  and  thus 
 administer  to,  the  wisdom,  of  the  future  ? 
 
THE    SECOND    CYCLE 
 
 BOOK  II. 
 
 CHAPTER  XXIII. 
 
 THE    CALL    OF   ABRAHAM. 
 
 The  commencement  of  the  Second  Era  of  Reve- 
 lation was  distinguished  by  one  of  those  acts  of 
 Providence  which  illustrate  the  great  principle, 
 that  "  He  will  have  mercy  on  whom  He  will 
 have  mercy."  The  chosen  line,  the  sons  of  Shem, 
 had  fallen  into  the  common  idolatry  of  Chaldsea'. 
 And  as  God  chose  Paul  out  of  the  multitude  of 
 the  Jewish  persecutors.  He  chose  Abraham  out  of 
 the  multitude  of  the  Babylonish  Apostates^  His 
 first  summons  was  a  general  command  to  leave 
 the  place  of  his  birth,  "  Urofthe  Chaldees."  He 
 migrated  to  Charran,  in  the  west  of  Mesopotamia'. 
 
 '  Joshua  xxiv.  2.  ^  Acts  vii.  3. 
 
 '  Charran  is  supposed  to  have  been  the  Carrhae,  near  which 
 Crassus  was  defeated.     It  was  about  120  miles  west  of  Ur. 
 
 X  2 
 
308  THE    CALL    OF    ABRAHAM. 
 
 In  fourteen  years  after,  on  tlie  death  of  Terah, 
 his  father,  he  received  a  second  command  to  go 
 forth ;  and,  in  the  spirit  of  sacred  submission, 
 obeyed,  "  not  knowing  whither  he  went."  On 
 his  advance  into  Palestine  ;  at  Sichem,  the  more 
 distinct  declaration  was  given,  that  the  land  was 
 to  be  the  possession  of  his  family,  that  his  family 
 should  enlarge  into  a  great  nation,  and  that  from 
 him  should  be  descended  the  Messiah'.  Why 
 Abraham  should  have  been  sent  into  Palestine 
 so  many  ages  before  its  actual  possession,  is  per- 
 haps to  be  accounted  for  only  on  the  principle  that 
 Providence  never  wastes  power.  Abraham  could 
 not  have  continued  the  depositary  of  religion, 
 yet  continued  safe  in  his  native  place,  with- 
 out a  miracle.  He  was  thus  removed  from  the 
 land  of  the  idolator,  into  a  remote  country; 
 where,  however  the  purity  of  the  first  revelation 
 might  have  been  gradually  tarnished,  its  chief 
 features  survived.  Abimelech,  king  of  Gerar, 
 though  a    man    of  violence ^,    evidently  acknow- 
 
 '  Jewish  tradition,  reluctant  to  admit  the  possible  error  of  the 
 national  ancestor,  held  that  Abraham  had  first  openly  declared 
 his  hostility  to  idols  ;  and,  thus  rendering  himself  the  object  of 
 persecution,  was  at  once  led  from  Chaldasa  by  the  Divine  voice, 
 and  driven  by  the  popular  resentment. — Judith  v.  6. 
 
 ^  There  has  been  some  idle  scoffing  at  the  modern  improba- 
 bility of  the  seizure  of  Sarah,  at  the  ages  of  66  and  90,  by  the 
 Kings  of  Egypt  and  Gerar.  But  the  only  improbability  arises 
 from  overlooking  the  diiference  in  the  duration  of  human  life. 
 In  Abraham's  time,   it   was   nearly  twice  the  average  of  life  in 
 
THE    CALL    OF    ABRAHAM.  309 
 
 ledged  the  true  Deity,  by  his  prayer,  "  Lord, 
 wilt  thou  slay  a  righteous  nation?"  Melchizedec, 
 the  king  of  Salem,  was  an  actual  priest  of  God  ; 
 and  admitted  Abraham  as  a  known  fellow  wor- 
 shipper:  "  Blessed  be  Abraham,  servant  of  the 
 Most  High  God,  the  possessor  of  heaven  and 
 earth."  Even  among  the  wild  habits  of  the  Arabs, 
 there  was  a  redeeming  tincture  of  revelation ; 
 and  the  language  of  Job  is  full  of  a  more  pro- 
 found religious  impression,  than  that  of  any  unin- 
 spired Jew.  Another  peculiarity  of  the  land  was, 
 that  it  was  divided  into  extremely  small  sove- 
 reignties :  thus  Abraham's  household,  which  must 
 
 ours.  He  died  at  175.  On  this  scale  Sarah,  when  in  Egypt, 
 would  have  arrived  at  scarcely  more  than  a  third  of  the  com- 
 mon duration,  equivalent  to  about  30  years  now.  Even  at 
 ninety,  she  would  have  reached  little  more  than  half  the  length 
 of  human  life  ;  or,  on  our  scale,  about  45  or  50.  But  there  is 
 an  evident  distinction  in  the  narratives.  In  the  former  instance, 
 Abraham  speaks  of  Sarah's  beauty  as  rendering  her  situation 
 perilous  ;  and  this  beauty  is  praised  by  ''  the  princes  of  Egypt." 
 In  the  latter,  nothing  is  said  of  her  beauty,  which  had  probably 
 been  impaired  by  the  natural  result  of  years  ;  though  a  rapa- 
 cious and  profligate  prince  might  include  her  in  the  number  of 
 his  slaves. 
 
 It  has  been  unnecessarily  presumed,  that  the  transaction 
 with  Abimelech  is  merely  a  confused  repetition  of  the  story  of 
 the  seizure  by  Pharaoh.  But  the  two  narratives  are  given, 
 with  separate  circumstances,  on  the  part  of  the  kings  ;  with 
 separate  penalties  for  their  transgression  ;  and,  as  has  just  been 
 observed,  with  a  striking  omission  in  the  latter  narrative,  suit- 
 able to  the  interval  of  time. 
 
310  THE    CALL    OF    ABRAHAM. 
 
 have  been  crushed  by  a  collision  with  the  Chal- 
 dseans,  became  a  formidable  force  among  the 
 little  principalities  of  Palestine  \  Both  causes 
 must  have  greatly  lightened  the  difficulty  of  pre- 
 serving his  family  and  his  religion. 
 
 His  gradual  separation  from  his  brother's  house, 
 and  even  from  Lot,  may  have  been  for  the  pur- 
 pose of  preserving  his  immediate  descendants  free 
 from  the  taint  of  those  original  Chaldaean  habits, 
 which  must  have  long  had  their  influence.  It  is 
 evident  that  idols  were  worshipped  among  the 
 relatives  of  Abraham  in  Mesopotamia  so  late  as 
 the  time  of  Jacob's  marriage,  nearly  two  hundred 
 years  after. 
 
 After  the  blessing  of  Melchizedec,  a  new  de- 
 claration of  the  Divine  blessing  was  made  to 
 Abraham.  The  promise,  that  his  children  should 
 inherit  the  land,  was  repeated  still  more  dis- 
 tinctly; and,  on  his  asking  some  testimony  of  the 
 grant,  he  was  commanded  to  prepare  the  cere- 
 monial of  a  covenant,  as  was  usual  between  man 
 and  man.  A  heifer,  a  she-goat,  and  a  ram,  each 
 three  years  old,  were  cut  asunder,  and  the  parts 
 laid  opposite  to  each  other ;  a  turtle-dove  and  a 
 young  pigeon   were   also  presented,  but  not  di- 
 
 '  The  sons  of  Ileth,  in  this  sense,  pronounce  Abraham  "  a 
 mighty  prince ;"  and  his  recovery  of  the  spoil  taken  from  the 
 kings  of  the  cities  of  the  plain,  shows  how  cfFectivcly  his  power 
 must  have  been  felt  amon<x  those  minute  principalities. 
 
 7 
 
THE    CALL    OF    ABRAHAM.  311 
 
 vided '.  When  twilight  fell,  Abraham  was  thrown 
 into  a  state  of  trance, — a  Divine  vision ;  and  the 
 Lord  declared  to  him  the  sufferings  of  his  poste- 
 rity in  Egypt,  and  their  triumph.  When  tlie 
 darkness  fell  deeper  still,  the  fiery  column,  the 
 emblem  of  the  Divine  presence,  passed  between 
 the  pieces  of  the  slain  animals ;  and  thus  gave 
 the  direct  ratification ^ 
 
 It  is  observable,  that  the  birth  and  relationship 
 of  this  new  Seth  bore  a  striking  similitude  to 
 those  of  the  son  of  Adam.  As  Adam  had  three 
 sons,  one  of  whom  passed  away  without  receiving 
 the  true  religion ;  another,  receiving  it,  died 
 without  being  the  heir ;  and  a  third,  the  young- 
 
 *  This  custom  is  alluded  to  in  Jeremiah  (xxxiv.  18);  where 
 the  princes  of  Judah  are  reproached  with  neglecting  their  cove- 
 nants, made  by  dividing  the  sacrifice.  The  ceremony  was  fre- 
 quent in  the  early  ages ;  and  implied  that  the  breakers  of  the 
 compact  deserved  to  be  cut  in  pieces,  like  the  animals.  Homer 
 alludes  to  it  in  the  "  opicta  Tnara  TafxovTEQ." — Le  Clerc. 
 
 The  declaration,  that  the  sufferings  of  Israel  would  last  400 
 years,  is  explicable,  by  dating  from  the  birth  of  Isaac,  which,  to 
 the  Exodus,  was  405  years.  The  subsequent  declaration,  that 
 the  time  would  be  430  (Exod.  xiii.  40),  is  equally  explicable, 
 by  including  Abraham's  sojourn  in  Canaan  before  the  birth  of 
 Isaac,  25  years. 
 
 ^  Abraham  is  represented  as  in  great  awe  and  terror  during 
 tliis  trance  ;  probably  with  prophetic  reference  to  the  afflictions 
 of  his  posterity  in  Egypt ;  and  the  aspect  of  the  Shekinah,  as  a 
 fiery  furnace,  might  be  also  a  direct  symbol  of  the  "  iron  fur- 
 naces" of  Egyptian  bondage. — Dciitcr.  iv.  20. 
 
312  THE    CALL    OF    ABRAHAM. 
 
 est,  became  the  appointed  head  of  the  line. — So, 
 of  the  sons  of  Terah  :  the  eldest,  Haran,  lived  in 
 the  land  of  idolatry  until  his  death  ;  the  second, 
 Nahor,  though,  with  Abraham,  abandoning  the 
 land  of  idolatry,  and  of  course,  its  religion,  died 
 without  possessing  the  headship  ;  and  the  third 
 was  the  appointed,  the  "  called"  of  Heaven,  to  be 
 the  leader  of  the  chosen  line.  And  as  Adam  had 
 been  included  in  the  mercies  of  the  promise ;  so 
 Terah,  old  as  he  was,  was  not  left  to  finish  his 
 course  in  darkness,  but,  with  Abraham,  received 
 and  followed  the  Divine  will. 
 
 The  promise  of  offspring,  fourteen  years  delayed, 
 was  at  length  renewed  directly  to  Sarah.  But 
 she  was  now  ninety  years  old,  and  she  treated  it 
 with  laughter.  Abraham  received  it  with  grate- 
 ful exultation. 
 
 This  act  of  beneficence  was  followed  by  an  act 
 of  justice.  The  inhabitants  of  the  vale  now  co- 
 vered by  the  Dead  Sea  had  rendered  themselves 
 an  abomination,  and  must  be  extinguished.  Lot 
 and  his  family  were  divinely  rescued,  and  the 
 cities  were  destroyed  by  the  miraculous  descent  of 
 fire  from  heaven.  The  Dead  Sea  still  remains  a 
 memorial  of  the  destruction  ;  a  melancholy  and 
 deathlike  expanse  of  waters,  still  throwing  up 
 bitumen,  and  stifling  vapours,  and  like  none 
 other  under  the  face  of  heaven. 
 
THE    CALL    OF    ABRAHAM.  313 
 
 In  the  useless  and  hazardous  efforts  to  reconcile 
 the  wilful  scepticism  of  French  and  German  infi- 
 dels to  Revelation,  by  diluting  its  miracles  down 
 to  common  events  ;  this  judgment  is  attributed  to 
 lightning  suddenly  striking  upon  a  soil  impreg- 
 nated with  bitumen.  With  this  concession  from 
 the  Christian,  who  still  admits  that  the  lightning 
 was  the  minister  of  Heaven  ;  the  infidel  fills  up  the 
 complement,  by  presuming  that,  as  all  admit  the 
 accidental  nature  of  a  thunder-storm,  the  whole 
 was  accidental.  But  the  history  says  nothing  of 
 lightning  :  its  plain  statement  is,  "  the  Lord  rained 
 upon  Sodom  and  upon  Gomorrah  hrimstone  and 
 jive  from  the  Lord  out  of  heaven \"  Brimstone 
 and  fire  are  not  lightning,  and  "  raining''  is,  of  all 
 descriptions,  the  least  analogous  to  the  sudden  and 
 intermitted  blaze  of  electric  fire.  It  describes  a 
 steady,  heavy  descent  of  burning  matter  upon  the 
 guilty  cities.  Nothing  is  said  even  of  the  contri- 
 bution of  the  bituminous  soil  to  this  flame  ;  all  is 
 the  work  of  the  descending  rain  of  fire.  But  the 
 whole  transaction  is  marked  by  the  most  unequi- 
 vocal proofs  of  Divine  design.  In  the  first  instance, 
 it  is  declared  that  if  Sodom  contained  but  ten 
 righteous,  it  should  not  be  destroyed  at  all ;  in 
 the  next,  that  the  angels  are  "  sent''  to  destroy  it; 
 in  the  next,  that  Zoar,  one  of  the  destined  cities,  is 
 expressly  exempted  ;  in  the  next,  that  until   Lot 
 
 '  Gen.  xix.  2\. 
 
314  THE    CALL    OF    ABRAHAM. 
 
 reaches  Zoar  the  judgment  is  expressly  delayed. 
 Our  Saviour  also  alludes  to  the  catastrophe  of  the 
 cities,  expressly,  as  produced  by  a  "  rain  of  fire 
 and  brimstone  from  the  Lord^.""  The  modern  sys- 
 tem of  conciliation,  however  innocently  intended, 
 altogether  humiliates  the  dignity  of  the  inspired 
 record ;  besides  involving  the  logical  paradox,  of 
 attempting  to  give  additional  credibility  to  a  ge- 
 neral narrative,  by  disputing  the  truth  of  all  its 
 particulars. 
 
 The  faith  of  Abraham  was  subsequently  to  be 
 tried  by  a  mysterious  transaction,  which  still 
 divides  the  commentators.  He  was  commanded 
 to  offer  up  his  son  Isaac.  He  obeyed  the  injunc- 
 tion, led  him  to  the  appointed  spot,  laid  him  on  the 
 altar,  and  had  already  raised  the  knife,  when  his 
 arm  was  stayed  by  the  voice  of  an  angel,  declaring 
 that  sufficient  proof  of  ^^  his  fearing  God"  had  been 
 given  by  this  unhesitating  surrender  of  his  heir. 
 Why  this  peculiar  species  of  trial  should  have 
 been  adopted,  is  the  question.  It  is  clear  that  the 
 proof  of  his  faith  was  one  purpose  ;  but  the  act 
 tended  so  directly  to  sanction  human  sacrifice,  that 
 we  must  look  to  some  further  object  for  its  neces- 
 sity. Divines  chiefly  hold,  that  this  object  was  to 
 give  Abraham  a  typical  representation  of  the  death 
 
 '  Luke  xvii.  31. 
 
THE    CALL    OF    ABRAHAM.  315 
 
 of  Christ \     But  against  this  theory   stands   the 
 strong  circumstance,    that  Isaac   was  not  put  to 
 
 '  Warburton's  opinion,  as  adopted  by  Graves,  Faber,  &c.  and 
 forming  the  present  standard  on  the  subject,  is  wortli  some  ex- 
 amination. Warburton,  trampling  down,  as  usual,  every  thing 
 in  chase  of  his  conjecture,  peremptorily  decides  that  Abraham, 
 in  the  offering  of  Isaac,  must  have  seen  the  mode  of  man's  re- 
 demption. If  the  tejct  tells  us  nothing  of  this,  he  is  not  the  more 
 at  a  loss  for  an  answer ;  though,  as  usual,  at  the  expense  of  in- 
 spiration. He  tells  us  that  the  matter  was  suppressed  by  the  his- 
 torian, because  it  would  be  an  anticipation  of  the  disclosures  re- 
 served for  the  Gospel !  How  he  was  thus  let  into  the  complicity 
 of  Moses,  he  has  not  explained.  But  this  decision  is  not  to  be 
 reached  but  by  the  most  palpable  violence  to  the  text.  Thus  he 
 asserts — that  the  three  days  comprehend  the  wJiole  transaction  ; 
 while  the  text  distinctly  limits  them  to  the  journey ;  *'  On  the 
 third  day  Abraham  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  saw  the  place  afar 
 off." — That  the  return  of  Isaac,  who  did  not  suffer,  was  a  direct 
 reference  to  His  rising  from  the  dead  who  did — and  that  St.  Paul's 
 expression  of  Isaac's  being  received  from  the  dead,  in  afgurc, 
 applies  solely  to  this  emblematic  sacrifice  and  resurrection. 
 
 But  the  context  shows,  that  St.  Paul's  expression  refers  ?2o/  to 
 the  sacrifice,  but  to  the  birth,  of  Isaac.  The  Apostle  is  panegy- 
 rizing the  faith  of  Abraham  ;  and,  to  show  its  completeness,  says, 
 that  he  relied  on  the  Divine  promise,  even  though  he  should  have 
 sacrificed  his  son ;  for  he  was  convinced  that  God  could  have  given 
 life  to  his  ashes  on  the  altar. — That  Isaac,  being  born  of  Sarah,  who 
 was  past  the  natural  possibility  of  child-bearing,  and  thus  received 
 from  a  source  effete  and  rfearf  by  nature,  the  <7w/ia  vfj'ticpw/iEj'Oj' 
 of  his  mother,  was  figuratively  {tv  7ropa/3oX;;)  received  from 
 the  dead. — And  that  Abraham  rightly  reasoned,  that  as  God 
 had  originally  thus  given  him  from  the  dead,  for  the  purpose  of 
 realizing  the  promise  ;  he  would  equally  give  him  from  the  dead, 
 if  such  an  exertion  of  the  Divine  power  were  rendered  neces- 
 
316  THE    CALL    OF    ABRAHAM. 
 
 death.     It  also  entirely  disregards  the  feature  from 
 which   the  whole  transaction  receives  its  inspired 
 
 sary  ;  which  of  course  it  must  be,  if  Isaac  had  been  consumed  on 
 the  altar ;  in  other  words,  that  the  promise,  whose  performance 
 was  begun  by  one  miracle,  would  be  carried  through  by  another. 
 But  the  chief  argument  by  which  Warburton  labours  to  sustain 
 his  error  is,  that  Abraham  is  declared  to  have  "  seen  the  day  of 
 the  Messiah,  and  to  have  rejoiced  in  it."  This  he  refers  to  the 
 time  of  the  sacrifice.  Suspicion  always  attaches  to  statements 
 of  Scriptural  events,  of  which  Scripture  itself  says  nothing  ; 
 and  to  this  common  interpretation  of  the  text,  there  is  the  addi- 
 tional objection,  that  it  involves  an  absurdity.  "  Abraham 
 rejoiced  to  see  my  day,  and  he  saw  it,  and  was  glad,"  is  nothing 
 more  than  an  identical  proposition  :  "  He  rejoiced  to  see  my 
 day,  and  he  saw  it,  and  rejoiced."  That  this  is  unworthy  of  Scrip- 
 ture, Warburton  admits,  but,  as  he  never  gives  up  a  hypothesis, 
 he  naturally  fails  to  draw  the  conclusion.  Every  reader  of  the 
 original  knows,  that  among  the  meanings  of  ayaXXiaw  is  that  of 
 "  desiring,  longing  for,"&c. — Gestio,  desiderio  alicujus  rei  feror. 
 (Schleusner.)  Our  Lord's  obvious  language  is, "  Abraham  greatly 
 desired  to  see  my  day  ;  and  he  saw  it,  and  rejoiced."  It  was  at 
 once  a  reproof,  an  argument,  and  a  declaration  of  his  owti  know- 
 ledge of  heavenly  things. — "  The  forefather,  of  whom  you  are  so 
 proud,  eagerly  desired  to  see  the  coming  on  earth  of  him  whom 
 you  despise.  Abraham  was  at  length  vouchsafed  that  sight ;  and 
 it  was  a  source  of  exultation  to  him,  however  it  may  be  scorned  by 
 his  blind  and  prejudiced  posterity."  Even  the  expression,  my  day, 
 limits  the  text  to  the  personal  presence  of  our  Lord.  He  thus 
 tells  the  Jews,  in  another  place,  that  the  time  shall  come  when 
 they  shall  long  to  see  one  of  his  days,  and  shall  not  see  it ; — 
 having  rejected  the  personal  presence  of  the  Messiah,  they  shall 
 thenceforth  look  for  a  Messiah  in  vain.  Professor  Scholfield 
 conceives  the  weight  of  the  sentence  to  hang  on  tea,  but  there 
 are  a  multitude  of  examples  in  which  it  is  not  causative  ("  pray 
 
THE    CALL    OF    ABRAHAM.  317 
 
 name,  and  which  is  thus  naturally  entitled  to  be 
 taken  as  its  principal  object,  Jehovah  Jireh  {The 
 -Lord  ivill provide)  in  direct  reference  to  the  animal 
 provided  at  the  moment,  to  supply  the  place  of 
 Isaac.  This  theory  must  therefore  be  abandoned  ; 
 and  we  shall  probably  come  to  the  fact,  that  the 
 Substitution  itself  formed  the  true  final  purport  of 
 the  ceremonial.  We  hear  of  no  conclusion  drawn 
 by  Abraham  to  the  future  sacrifice  of  the  g-reat 
 Atoner,  nor  of  his  thenceforth  regarding  Isaac  as 
 a  representative  of  the  Messiah,  nor  of  his  viewino- 
 the  transaction  in  any  other  light,  than  as  a  per- 
 
 tkat  your  flight  be  not  in  winter").  The  true  objection  is,  that 
 the  common  translation  makes  one  half  of  the  verse  superfluous. 
 But  this  objection  implies  that  Abraham  actually  witnessed  the 
 earthly  existence  of  the  Messiah.  And,  why  not  ?  if  angels  are  the 
 declared,  daily  ministers  to  the  people  of  God  ;  if  they  attended 
 on  our  Lord,  in  the  temptation  in  the  garden,  and  perhaps  at 
 all  times ;  if,  as  he  declared,  they  were  at  lus  command,  by 
 legions  ;  if,  as  he  equally  declared,  Abraham  was  alive  in  the 
 days  of  Moses  ;  and  if  Moses  and  Elijah,  visibly  and  bodily,  saw 
 and  conversed  with  him  at  the  transfiguration  ;  if,  not  merely  to 
 selected  individuals,  but  to  the  whole  community  of  the  thrones 
 and  powers  above,  the  government  of  the  Church  on  earth  is  a 
 perijetual  display,  for  the  direct  purpose  of  acquainting  them 
 with  the  "  many-hued"  (TroXvTroiKiXoc)  and  many  shaped  wisdom 
 of  the  Deity  (Eph.  iii.  lO.j  ;  why  shall  we  doubt  that  the 
 head  of  the  Jewish  Church  saw  the  Son  of  man  on  earth,  and  that 
 seeing  in  liim  the  consummation  of  the  promise,  the  birth  of  his 
 most  glorious  descendant,  he  must  have  been  filled  with  exult- 
 ation, such  joy  as  there  is  among  the  saints  in  Heaven  ? 
 
318  THE  CALL  OF  ABRAHAM. 
 
 sonal  trial  of  his  faith,  which  issued  in  a  personal 
 blessing. 
 
 But,  to  the  Christian  the  career  of  Isaac,  from 
 his  birth  to  the  period  of  this  offering,  is  typical  in 
 the  highest  degree.  The  Divine  promise  of  his 
 being  born,  to  be  the  head  of  a  countless  pos- 
 terity— the  joy  of  the  faithful,  the  scorn  of  the 
 unbelieving  ; — the  declaration  by  angels — the 
 delay,  till  a  time  when  it  seemed  hopeless — the 
 birth,  at  last,  only  by  a  Divine  interposition — 
 were  all  palpably  realized  in  the  advent  of  the 
 Messiah. 
 
 The  process  of  the  offering  is  not  less  close  and 
 consecutive  \  The  journey  of  Isaac  to  the  future 
 site  of  Jerusalem — its  occupying  thy^ee  days — his 
 reaching  it  on  an  ass — his  leaving  his  servants  he- 
 hind,  when  he  was  about  to  be  sacrificed — his 
 promise  to  return  to  them — his  bearing  the  sacri- 
 ficial wood,  and  going  to  the  altar,  accompanied 
 only  by  his  father ; — his  perfect  submission  at  the 
 place  of  sacrifice — his  being  hound  upon  the 
 altar,  are  all  palpably  descriptive  of  the  principal 
 events  of  the  Messiah's  preparative  for  death.   But 
 
 '  Our  Lord's  declaration  on  his  journey  towards  his  place  of 
 sacrifice  is,  "  Nevertheless,  I  must  walk  to  day,  and  to-morrow, 
 and  the  third  day  ;  for  it  cannot  be  that  a  prophet  perisli  out  of 
 Jerusalem." — (Luke  xiii.  33.)  This  passage  is  put  out  of  its 
 place  by  the  harmonists  ;  that  place  would  probably  be  imme- 
 diately before  our  Lord's  last  arrival  at  Jerusalem. 
 
THE  CALL  OF  ABRAIIAiM.  319 
 
 here  the  similitude  breaks  off,  and  the  substi- 
 tution of  the  ram  changes  the  relation  of  the 
 whole. 
 
 The  conclusion,  from  the  total  silence  of  the 
 history,  is, — that  the  knowledge  of  the  type  was 
 intended,  not  for  Abraham,  but  for  future  man- 
 kind ;  and  that,  in  this  sense,  it  was  given  as  a 
 development,  to  us,  of  the  progress  of  Revelation. 
 The  object  of  the  three  dispensations  was,  alike, 
 the  forgiveness  of  sin.  In  all  alike,  this  forgive- 
 ness was,  through  the  merits  of  the  Messiah. 
 But,  in  the  covenant  made  with  Adam  after  the 
 Fall,  little  more  was  declared  of  the  Messiah,  than 
 that  he  should  bruize  the  serpent's  head ;  and 
 little  more  of  sacrifice,  than  that  by  a  strict  com- 
 pliance with  the  rite,  (doubtless  also  with  a 
 reference  to  some  future  merit  of  the  great  cham- 
 pion of  man,)  human  guilt  should  be  forgiven. 
 In  the  second  dispensation,  the  general  and  obscure 
 idea  of  a  combat  with  the  serpent,  gave  place  to  the 
 more  exact  knowledge,  that  the  champion  was  to 
 pass  through  a  human  career,  and  to  undergo  cleath^; 
 but,  that  during  the  continuance  of  the  dispensa- 
 tion, his  death  was  to  be  represented  by  the  death 
 of  animals.  The  use  of  animal  sacrifice  (with  a 
 knowledge  that  it  was  but  the  substitute  for  a  more 
 
 '  Our  Lord's  sacrifice  was  not  under  what  is  properly  called 
 the  Jewish  Dispensation.  The  law  and  the  prophets  were  until 
 John. — (Luke  xvi.  16.)  From  that  period  commenced  the 
 declaration  of  the  approach  of  the  kingdom. 
 
320  THE    CALL    OF    ABRAHAM. 
 
 exalted  and  final  offering,)  decidedly  formed  the 
 leading  characteristic  of  the  Jewish  dispensation  ; 
 and  to  Abraham,  as  its  head,  was  thus  com- 
 mitted, in  the  instance  of  the  Jirst  offspring,  born 
 under  the  promise,  the  unconscious  office  of 
 supplying  the  type  which  characterized  the  es- 
 tablished religion  of  his  posterity. 
 
CHAPTER   XXIV. 
 
 MOSES. 
 
 The  transfer  into  Egypt  was  the  next  memorable 
 chano;e  in  the  condition  of  Israel.  It  has  been 
 asked,  why  a  transfer  was  suffered,  so  hazardous 
 to  the  simplicity  of  their  manners,  their  religion, 
 and  their  independence  ?  The  true  answer  may 
 be,  that,  hazardous  as  the  measure  unquestionably 
 was,  it  was  adopted  as  a  security  against  the  still 
 greater  hazard  of  their  extinction  as  a  people. 
 
 In  this  view,  the  whole  progress  of  the  event 
 forms  one  of  the  most  striking  displays  of  a  par- 
 ticular Providence.  As  the  time  was  still  distant 
 when  the  Israelites  were  to  be  put  in  possession 
 of  the  land  of  Canaan  ;  a  time  to  be  regulated  by 
 two  circumstances,  the  arrival  of  the  Canaanite 
 population  at  the  degree  of  iniquity,  where  long- 
 suffering  must  be  exhausted  ;  and  the  fitness  of  the 
 Israelites,  in  point  of  numbers,  to  hold  the  land  ; 
 some  provision  must  be  made  for  their  existence 
 during  a  period  of  nearly  300  years.  They  could 
 not  have  remained  in  Palestine  with   any  degree 
 
 Y 
 
322  MOSES. 
 
 of  safety;  for,  by  a  sudden  invasion,  about  twenty- 
 seven  years  before,  of  the  savage  tribes  expelled 
 from  Egypt,  the  greater  part  of  the  former  inhabit- 
 ants had  been  conquered,  the  Philistine  shepherds 
 were  masters,  and  their  fierceness  and  idolatry 
 must  have  finally  exterminated  or  corrupted  the 
 descendants  of  Jacob.  In  this  difficulty,  what 
 expedient  can  be  conceived  more  effectual,  than 
 the  transfer  of  the  whole  family  to  the  protection 
 of  a  great,  intelligent,  and  warlike  kingdom, 
 lying  so  close  to  Palestine,  that  the  return  might 
 be  merely  a  march  across  a  frontier.  We  have 
 no  knowledge  that  Egypt  at  this  time  was  idola- 
 trous. Its  religion  was  probably  altogether  free 
 from  idol  worship ;  when  we  find  Joseph  all^dng 
 himself  to  the  daughter  of  the  high  priest,  acting 
 as  prime  minister  of  the  country,  and  securing 
 to  the  priesthood  their  original  property,  in  the 
 time  of  a  general  alienation  of  lands  '.     But  some 
 
 '  Joseph  has  been  charged  by  Infidelity  {Larcher,  Sec.)  with 
 making  a  treacherous  bargain  for  the  people,  and  even  reducing 
 them  to  slavery.  But  the  charge  arises  from  disregarding  the 
 text.  The  evident  fact  is,  that  he  changed  the  old  severe  tenure 
 of  their  property  for  one  of  remarkable  advantage.  The  land 
 was  originally  divided  into  three  parts,  by  the  constitution  of 
 Menes  ;  the  king,  the  priesthood,  and  the  soldiery,  having  each 
 a  third.  In  the  famine,  all  the  lands  were  sold  to  the  govern- 
 ment for  food ;  the  general  holding  of  property  was  tlius  changed  ; 
 and  the  king,  thus  becoming  the  general  proprietor,  was  enabled 
 to  make  a  new  distribution  of  a  more  equal  kind.  The  whole 
 of  the  lands  were  now  given  to   the  lieajtle,  at  the  rent  of  a 
 
MOSES.  3"23 
 
 preparative  for  the  reception  of  Israel  might  })e 
 of  value,  peculiarly  in  the  instance  of  strangers 
 corning  from  a  hostile  and  wild  country  ("ye 
 are  spies,  to  see  the  nakedness  of  the  land  ye  are 
 come").  And  the  preparative  had  been  made  by 
 the  extraordinary  advancement  of  Joseph  to  royal 
 confidence,  to  public  gratitude,  and  to  distinction 
 among  the  learned  and  priestly  class  (of  whom 
 the  king  himself  was  always  one).  But  the 
 casualty  might  yet  arise,  of  their  being  lost 
 among  the  Egyptians  ?  The  expedient  against 
 this  natural  consequence,  was  their  being  sent  to 
 Goshen  ;  a  settlement  selected  hy  Joseph,  for  the 
 express  purpose  of  separating  them  from  tlie 
 nation — "  Ye  shall  say.  Thy  servants'  trade  hath 
 been  about  cattle,  that  ye  may  dwell  in  the  land  of 
 Goshen ;  for  every  shepherd  is  an  abomination  to 
 the  Egyptians.''  The  separation  being  thus  se- 
 cured by  the  double  obstacle  of  an  isolated  district, 
 and  an  occupation  scorned  in  Egyptian  eyes, 
 the  Israelite  family  of  seventy  souls  were  left  in 
 peace,  to  augment  during  a  hundred  years.  But 
 the  increase  was   still  regulated   by  an   especial 
 
 fifth  part  of  the  produce  to  the  crown — the  land  of  the  priest- 
 hood only  excepted  ;  Joseph,  in  his  wisdom,  clearlj',  not  think- 
 ing fit  to  make  the  religious  establishment  of  the  country  a  de- 
 pendent on  either  the  people  or  the  crown.  This  agreement 
 fully  met  the  national  approbation  ;  the  people  saying,  "  Thou 
 hast  saved  our  lives,"  and  tendering  anew  their  allegiance, 
 (Gen.  xlvii.  25.) 
 
 Y    2 
 
324  MOSES. 
 
 Divine  reference  to  their  return.  "  When  the 
 time  of  the  promise  drew  nigh,  which  God  had 
 sworn  to  Abraham,  the  people  grew  and  multiplied 
 in  Egypt."  It  is  also  obvious  that  this  increase, 
 by  compelling  them  to  spread  beyond  the  narrow 
 land  of  Goshen',  must  have  exposed  the  Israelites 
 to  a  close  intercourse  with  the  Egyptians,  long 
 before  they  had  amounted  to  the  three  millions 
 who  were  to  march  for  Palestine. 
 
 The  tyranny  of  tlie  existing  Egyptian  king,  a  Pha- 
 raoh "  who  knew  not  Joseph,"  was  now  converted 
 into  the  actual  means  of  their  religious  purity. 
 Egypt  had  sunk  into  the  grossest  worship  of  idols: 
 that  worship  has  had  powerful  attractions  for  the 
 vice  and  ignorance  of  man  in  every  age  ;  and  the 
 Israelites,  spreading  freely  through  the  fields  and 
 cities  of  this  opulent,  voluptuous,  and  idolatrous 
 community,  must  soon  have  imbibed  the  infection 
 of  its  manners.  But  the  old  separation  of  space  was 
 to  be  followed  by  a  new  separation  of  feeling.  It 
 was  the  Israelite  who  once  drew  the  line  :  it  was 
 the  Egyptian  who  drew   it  now.     The   monarch, 
 
 '  Goshen  lay  immediately  contiguous  to  Palestine  (1  Chron. 
 vii.  21.)  and  extended  southward,  perhaps  as  far  as  Heliopolis, 
 including  partly  those  places  on  the  Nile,  which,  from  the  Epics 
 of  Heliodorus,  we  know  under  the  name  of  Bucolia,  a  marshy 
 tract  overgrown  with  weeds,  and  fit  only  for  pasture ;  partly 
 those  deserts  towards  the  East,  where  the  wandering  hordes 
 found  some  sustenance  for  their  sheep.  (Michoel/s  on  the  Lairs 
 oj'  Muxes.  J 
 
MOSES.  325 
 
 in  real  or  feigned  alarm  at  their  numbers ;  by  a 
 policy  not  uncommon  in  the  East,  degraded  the 
 whole  people  into  Helotism,  and  embittered  the 
 loss  of  liberty  by  the  heaviest  tasks  of  the  slave. 
 "  The  Egyptians  made  their  lives  bitter  with 
 hard  bondage  ^"  But  the  suffering  was  salutary. 
 Nothing  could  be  more  effectual  to  alienate  Israel 
 from  the  habits,  worship,  and  corruptions,  of  the 
 idolator. 
 
 The  hatred  of  the  slave,  and  the  severity  of 
 the  tyrant,  grow  together  by  nature.  At  the 
 period  when  the  Deliverer  of  Israel  was  about  to 
 be  born,  an  act  of  more  than  savage  cruelty  con- 
 summated the  oppression.  A  command  was 
 issued  for  the  general  destruction  of  the  male 
 infants.  Moses  was  born  nearly  under  the  first  pro- 
 mulgation of  this  decree  ;  for  it  was  not  in  force 
 at  the  birth  of  Aaron,  but  three  years  before.  Yet, 
 as  if  for  the  express  purpose  of  showing  with  what 
 completeness  the  Divine  wisdom  baffles  the  malice 
 of  man,  the  daughterof  the  tyrant  himself  was  made 
 the  instrument  of  counteracting  his  decree  ;  the 
 Court  became  the  place  in  which  Moses  acquired 
 the  qualities  essential  to  the  deliverance  of  the 
 people  ;  and  even  his  name  seems  a  direct  con- 
 tempt of  the  royal  will  ^ 
 
 At   the    age    of  forty    Moses    abandoned    the 
 
 '  Exod.  i.  14. 
 Moses — "  preserved  from  the  water." 
 
326  MOSES. 
 
 tempting  prospects  open  in  the  Egyptian  palace 
 to  the  adopted  son  of  the  princess,  and  to  a  cha- 
 racter already  high  in  public  opinion,  "mighty 
 in  words  and  deeds \"  The  fallen  state  of  his 
 countrymen  urged  him  to  the  heroic  desire  of 
 rekindling  a  sense  of  their  dignity — "  For  he 
 supposed  that  his  brethren  would  have  under- 
 stood how  that  God  by  his  hand  would  deliver 
 them  2." 
 
 The  course  of  the  narrative  is  strikingly  natu- 
 ral. His  first  act,  on  returning  among  them,  was 
 to  set  the  example  of  that  conduct  by  which,  in 
 the  hasty  calculation  of  a  daring  and  indignant 
 spirit,  the  deliverance  was  alone  to  be  effected. 
 He  fell,  sword  in  hand,  on  the  first  Egyptian  whom 
 he  saw  assaulting  an  Israelite,  and  slew  him.  He 
 had  yet  to  learn,  that  the  deliverance  of  Israel  was 
 to  be  by  a  higher  agency  than  the  sword  of  man. 
 But  he  found  on  this  occasion,  that  the  heart  of 
 the  people  was  unequal  to  the  bold  attempt  of  break- 
 ing their  chains  ;  that  he  had  exposed  himself  to 
 the  royal  vengeance  for  nothing.  And,  apparently, 
 in  the  disgust  wliich  a  gallant  and  lofty  mind 
 would  be  the  first  to  feel ;  he  threw  up  the  attempt 
 at  once,  and  leaving  his  degenerate  countrymen 
 to  their  fate,  plunged  into  the  desert,  and  for  forty 
 years  was  lost  to  the  world. 
 
 But  the  ways  of  God  are  often  memorably  dis- 
 
 '  Acts  vii.  22.  2  Acts  vii.  25. 
 
MOSES.  327 
 
 tinguished  from  the  ways  of  man.  The  Israelite 
 redemption,  which  was  refused  to  the  warrior  and 
 the  patriot,  in  the  glow  of  manly  feeling  and  the 
 vigour  of  manly  life  ;  was  to  be  imposed  upon  the 
 shepherd ;  in  the  chill  of  life  and  feeling,  with  his 
 hopes  extinguished,  and  his  habits  alienated  alike 
 from  the  works  of  council  and  the  field.  At  the 
 age  of  eighty  !  Moses  was  summoned  from  the 
 sheep-fold  !  to  take  the  command  of  the  hosts  of 
 Israel.  The  bold  prince  and  soldier  was  now 
 shrunk  into  the  "  meekest  man  of  the  earth." 
 He  successively  pleaded  his  obscurity,  and  his 
 want  of  eloquence ;  and  when  both  pleas  were 
 refuted,  he  expressly  declined  the  mission.  Then, 
 "  the  anger  of  the  Lord  was  kindled,"  and  Aaron 
 was  joined  with  him,  as  a  divider  of  the  honours 
 which  he  might  have  possessed  alone. 
 
 But  the  original  nobleness  of  his  nature  had 
 not  perished.  Habits,  views,  powers,  and  pur- 
 poses, are  the  creatures  of  time,  and  may  sink 
 with  time.  But  the  native  mind  is  buoyant,  and 
 floats  above  all,  to  the  last.  When  Moses  finally 
 takes  upon  him  the  Divine  commission,  his  obe- 
 dience exhibits  the  strong  sincerity  of  his  charac- 
 ter. His  resolution  is  then  formed  once  and  for  ever. 
 He  bids  farewell  to  Midian  and  its  ties ;  hazards 
 all  that  is  dear  to  human  nature  upon  the  event, 
 and,  placing  his  wife  and  children  on  their  beasts 
 of  burthen,  begins  his  perilous  journey,  never  to 
 return . 
 
328  MOSES. 
 
 In  Egypt,  the  long-  affliction  of  the  Israelites 
 had  already  wrought  its  natural  consequence ; 
 the  stubborn  or  insensible  spirit  which  had  once 
 repelled  the  deliverer  was  subdued.  "  And 
 the  people  believed;  and  when  they  heard  that 
 the  Lord  had  visited  the  children  of  Israel,  and 
 that  he  had  looked  upon  their  affliction,  then 
 they  bowed  their  heads  and  worshipped."  But 
 another  consequence,  equally  natural,  was  com- 
 bined with  this  submissiveness :  their  courase 
 was  totally  broken.  A  new  demand  for  their 
 labour,  made  by  the  tyrant,  suddenly  extin- 
 guished all  their  confidence  in  Moses ;  and  the 
 most  solemn  promises  of  deliverance  were  listened 
 to  with  alternate  scorn  and  despair.  "  Thou  hast 
 made  our  favour  to  be  abhorred  in  the  sio;ht  of 
 Pharaoh,"  was  the  popular  outcry.  "  They  heard 
 not,  for  anguish  of  spirit  and  for  cruel  bondage," 
 are  the  words  of  the  historian. 
 
 With  such  materials,  to  achieve  any  great 
 national  act  of  intrepidity  was  plainly  impossible. 
 The  course  of  Providence  in  the  reinstatement  of 
 nations,  almost  uniformly,  is  to  let  them  work  out 
 their  own  freedom  ;  thus  rendering;  the  strug-o-le  a 
 school  of  the  hardihood  and  intelligence  essential 
 to  its  preservation.  But  now,  for  the  first  time, 
 and  the  last,  in  history,  the  deliverance  of  a  nation 
 was  to  be  wrought  without  a  struggle  or  a  suflfer- 
 ing ;  and,  by  a  not  less  extraordinary  distinction, 
 the  instruments  throuo-hout  were  to  be  two  indivi- 
 
MOSES.  329 
 
 duals,  and  but  two  ;  and  those,  without  wealth, 
 ancient  name,  personal  vigour,  or  popular  ability 
 —  the  one  an  Egyptian  slave,  the  other  an  Egyp- 
 tian fugitive,  separated  from  each  other  for  half  a 
 century,  and  both  verging  on  the  grave. 
 
 The  exclusive  displaj^  of  Divine  agency  in  this 
 instance,  so  unexampled  in  the  general  providen- 
 tial government ;  seems  capable  of  being  accounted 
 for  only  by  the  peculiar  object  of  the  restoration — 
 the  establishment  of  a  people  as  the  depositaries  of  a 
 religion.  The  impression  most  important  for  a  pur- 
 pose of  this  order  would  be,  the  incontestible  supe- 
 riority of  the  God  of  that  religion.  This  evidence 
 was  to  be  obtained  chiefly  by  the  contest  in 
 which  Israel  was  involved  with  Egypt.  The 
 Egyptian  king  and  his  religion,  totally  discom- 
 fited by  the  direct  power  of  the  God  of  the 
 Jews,  would  supply  it  in  the  most  ample  man- 
 ner. All  the  share  which  human  qualities  might 
 claim  in  the  victory,  must,  so  far,  tend  to  en- 
 feeble the  evidence.  And  thus,  the  Ten  Plaoues 
 are  expressly  declared  to  have  been  inflicted  "  to 
 show  the  wrath  of  Heaven,  and  to  make  its  power 
 known  \" 
 
 '  Rom.  ix.  21. 
 
CHAPTER  XXV. 
 
 THE  TEN  PLAGUES. 
 
 The  learning  which  has  been  lavished  on  the 
 subject  of  the  Plagues  of  Egypt  is  boundless; 
 but  some  of  the  most  natural  elucidations  of  those 
 stupendous  displays  have  still  been  forgotten  \ 
 The  point  of  interest  with  us,  in  events  so  remote, 
 must  be  chiefly,  how  far  their  circumstances  give 
 proof  of  Divine  design  ;  a  conclusion  of  equal  im- 
 portance to  every  era  of  man.  In  this  light,  they 
 supply  striking,  yet,  hitherto,  not  much  observed, 
 testimony. 
 
 The  succession  of  the  Plagues  is  distinctly  regu- 
 lated on  principle,  and  that  principle  the  grada- 
 tion of  pain.  Of  all  pain,  the  lowest  class  is  that 
 which  arises  from  the  mere  offence  of  the  senses  ; 
 the  next  is  bodily  suffering  ;  the  last  is  mental, — 
 in  all  its  stages,  up  to  preternatural  terror,  an  un- 
 
 *  The  plagues  occupied  nearly  four  months,  from  the  begin- 
 ning of  January  to  the  night  of  the  Passover,  in  April.  The 
 number  of  the  Israelites  who  marched  for  Palestine  was  600,000 
 men  above  twenty  with  a  mixed  multitude  (probably  the 
 children  of  Egyptian  and  Israelite  marriages) ;  the  whole,  of 
 all  ages,  with  women  and  cliildren,  amounting  to  about  three 
 millions. 
 
THE    TEN    PLAGUES.  331 
 
 rivalled  agony  which  often  amounts  to  the  extinc- 
 tion of  reason,  or  of  life.  The  succession  of  the 
 plagues  is  thus  addressed  to  the  three  sources  of 
 human  susceptibility, — the  senses,  the  body,  and 
 the  mind. 
 
 The  first  three  plagues — the  turning  of  the 
 waters  into  blood,  the  frogs,  and  the  lice,  only 
 repel  the  senses ;  and  they  alone  are  shared  by 
 the  Israelites,  to  whose  vanity  this  harmless  suf- 
 fering may  have  been  an  useful  lesson.  They  are 
 also  those  alone  in  which  the  Egyptians  make 
 any  attempt  to  rival  the  Divine  power.  Thence- 
 forth the  true  torture  begins,  and  all  is  the 
 acknowledged  supremacy  of  indignant  and  irre- 
 sistible miracle. 
 
 The  three  succeeding  plagues  are  torment  on 
 man  and  beast :  the  intolerable  stings  of  the  hor- 
 net ;  pestilence  among  the  cattle  ;  and  ulcers  on 
 the  population,  from  the  throne  to  the  dungeon. 
 
 The  next  three  are  terror,  arising  from  phe- 
 nomena, of  a  preternatural  intensity  and  havoc, 
 which  must  have  crushed  and  prostrated  the 
 national  heart.  The  first,  a  loosened  uproar 
 of  the  elements,  an  unexampled  and  hideous 
 storm  of  hail,  whirlwind,  and  fire,  which  ravaged 
 the  whole  face  of  the  land,  slaying  all  that  had 
 life  in  the  field,  and  sweeping  before  it  the  har- 
 vest, every  herb,  and  every  tree.  "  There  was 
 none  like  it  in  the  land  of  Egypt  since  it  became 
 a  nation."     We  can  perfectly  conceive  a  tempest 
 
33*2  THE    TEN    PLAGUES. 
 
 that  would  thus  stun  or  madden  every  sense  of  man; 
 The  thunder,  a  perpetual  roar  ;  the  hail,  a  cataract 
 of  ice-bolts  ;  the  fire,  an  unbroken  sheet  of  flame, 
 wrapping  the  earth  and  the  heavens. — The  second 
 was  the  proverbial  terror  of  the  East,  and  one  of  the 
 most  resistless  and  fearful  ministers  of  desolation. 
 A  flight  of  locusts,  vaster  and  more  dreadful  than 
 had  ever  been  known,  extinguishing  the  last 
 vestige  of  life  in  the  soil.  "  Very  grievous  were 
 they ;  before  them  there  were  no  such  locusts, 
 neither  after  them  shall  there  be  any  such  ;  for 
 they  covered  the  face  of  the  whole  land,  so  that 
 the  land  was  darkened." — The  third  was  a  total 
 darkness  for  three  days  ;  a  depth  of  gloom,  which 
 even  the  language  of  Scripture  labours  to  de- 
 scribe;  '*  a  thick  darkness,  which  might  he  felt,'" 
 probably,  even  more  than  an  utter  absence  of  light, 
 an  actual  thickening  of  the  atmosphere,  like  the 
 gloom  and  vapours  of  a  sepulchre.  The  horror 
 of  this  plague  instantly  paralysed  all  movement 
 in  the  land.  No  man  "  rose  from  his  place  for 
 the  three  days." 
 
 The  Jewish  traditions  fill  those  days  with  all 
 the  objects  of  undefinable  terror.  A  fine  passage 
 of  the  book  of  Wisdom,  which  emulates  the 
 richness  and  the  force  of  poetry,  describes  the 
 nation  as — "  shut  up  in  their  houses,  the  pri- 
 soners of  darkness,  astonished  with  strange  ap- 
 paritions, sad  visions  appeariny  ujito  them,  with 
 heavy  countenances !     No  power  of  fire  able  to  give 
 
THE    TEN    PLAGUES.  333 
 
 tliem  light ;  the  flames  of  the  stars  extinguished ; 
 only  there  appeared  to  them  a  fire,  kindled  of  itself, 
 very  dreadful ;  for,  being  much  terrified,  they 
 thought  the  things  which  they  saw  to  be  worse 
 than  the  sight  which  they  saw  not.  And,  as  for 
 the  illusions  of  magic,  they  were  put  down ;  for 
 they  that  promised  to  drive  away  terrors  and  trou- 
 bles from  a  sick  soul,  were  sick  themselves  of 
 fear ;  and,  being  scared  with  beasts  that  passed 
 by,  and  the  hissing  of  serpents,  they  died  of  fear. 
 For  wickedness,  by  her  own  witness,  is  very  ti- 
 morous ;  and,  being  pressed  with  conscience, 
 always  forecasteth  grievous  things  \" 
 
 But,  without  those  imaginative  details,  the 
 plague  must  have  been  capable  of  exciting  the 
 most  consummate  awe  and  alarm.  Every  Egyp- 
 tian must  have  already  known  that  the  afflictions 
 of  the  land  were  the  judgments  of  the  irresistible 
 Lord  of  the  Hebrews,  for  the  long  course  of 
 national  cruelty  to  his  people.  They  were  now 
 fully  in  his  hand  ;  and  who  could  tell  how  much 
 further  his  vengeance  might  lead  ?  With  their 
 cattle  destroyed,  and  the  whole  produce  of  the 
 ground,  the  early  and  the  later  harvest,  ruined 
 by  the  storm  and  the  locust ;  nothing  but  the 
 most  active  exertion  could  save  them  from  perish- 
 ing by  famine.  But  they  felt  all  exertion  sud- 
 denly brought  to  a  stand  by  a  new  infliction  from 
 Heaven  :  the   labours   of  the  field  and  the  city, 
 
 '  Book  of  Wisdom  xvii.  .'5,  &;c. 
 
334  THE    TEN    PLAGUES. 
 
 commerce,  the  whole  vigour  and  animation  of 
 society,  chained  up,  at  the  moment,  in  a  dark- 
 ness which  absolutely  precluded  all  effort,  and  of 
 which  no  human  conjecture  could  fix  the  termina- 
 tion. What  man  could  decide  that  the  universal 
 chill  and  suspension  of  the  national  pulse  might 
 not  continue,  till  Egypt  should  perish  of  famine  ? 
 The  land  was  a  living  sepulchre  at  the  time  : 
 who  could  tell  how  soon  it  might  contain  nothing 
 but  its  own  dead  ? 
 
 It  is  possible,  also,  that  the  shortening  of  this 
 plague  may  have  had  some  reference  to  this  result 
 of  its  prolongation.  A  few  days  longer,  and  all 
 life  must  have  failed,  through  the  mere  inability 
 to  procure  food.  But  it  was  evidentl}-  no  part  of 
 the  Divine  purpose  to  inflict  a  serious  loss  of 
 Egyptian  life,  before  the  final  demonstration  of 
 power,  in  the  rescue  of  the  Israelites  by  the  death 
 of  the  first-born.  That  object  once  accomplished, 
 Egyptian  life  was  spared  no  longer ;  and  the 
 drowning  of  the  army  in  the  Red  Sea  probably 
 destroyed,  along  with  the  king,  the  chief  nobility 
 and  warriors  of  the  kingdom  ;  the  cavalry  and 
 chariots  forming,  at  all  times,  the  choicer  force  of 
 Eastern  armies.  In  this  plague  alone,  we  have 
 no  supplication  on  the  part  of  the  king ;  no  ter- 
 minating act  on  that  of  Moses.  It  was  defined 
 by  the  sole  decision  of  Providence. 
 
 In  all  points  of  view,   the  ten   Plagues  exhibit 
 the  palpable  interference  of  a  power  above  acci- 
 7 
 
THE    TEN    PLAGUES,  335 
 
 dent  or  man.  The  share  of  Israel  in  the  first 
 three  plagues,  and  their  exemption  in  all  the 
 rest,  shows  that  they  possessed  no  personal  pe- 
 culiarity which  could  exempt  them ;  and  that 
 their  subsequent  privilege  must,  therefore,  have 
 been  providential. 
 
 The  prediction  of  the  whole  result,  the  death 
 of  the  first-born,  the  opulence',  and  the  triumph- 
 ant march  of  the  people  from  bondage,  had  been 
 given  to  Moses,  before  he  had  even  entered  Egypt. 
 In  all  points  of  view,  Chance  is  totally  out  of  the 
 question. 
 
 A  reference  to  the  fitness  of  the  plagues  has  been 
 long  observed,  in  the  gory  transformation  of  the 
 Nile,  the  instrument  of  Hebrew  infanticide  ;  and  in 
 the  "  ashes  of  the  furnace,'"  as  the  scene  of  their 
 
 '  The  cavil  raised  on  this  "  spoil  of  the  Egyptians"  has  been 
 frequently  noticed,  as  arising  from  our  translating  the  7Ktt^,  to 
 borrow,  instead  of  to  demand,  as  we  translate  it  in  the  passage 
 in  Samuel  (i.  28) ;  where  Hannah  gives  the  first-born  which 
 she  had  asked  from  the  Lord,  But,  without  referring  to  this  usual 
 meaning  of  the  word,  the  nature  of  the  transaction  shows  that 
 it  could  not  have  been  understood  by  the  Egyptians  in  any 
 other  sense  than  that  of  a  demand  for  wealth  which  was  never 
 to  be  returned.  What  expectation  of  repayment  could  they 
 have  from  a  multitude  who  were  leaving  their  country  "  with  a 
 high  hand,"  with  the  most  distinct  evidences  of  having  achieved 
 a  triumph  over  them,  and  leaving  it  either  to  be  buried  in  the 
 desert,  or  to  take  possession  of  a  new  kingdom.  The  Egyp- 
 tians purchased  their  retreat,  a  practice  not  uncommon  in  ancient 
 hostilities. 
 
 *  Exod.  vii.  o. 
 
336  THE    TEN    PLAGUES. 
 
 peculiar  toils.  But,  if  we  possessed  an  exact  account 
 of  the  progress  of  the  Israelite  sufferings,  we  proba- 
 bly might  trace  the  connexion  closer  still.  Josephns 
 tells  us,  that  one  of  the  first  expedients  to  thin  the 
 numbers  of  the  Israelites,  was  to  force  them  to  the 
 unwholesome  work  of  making  canals  and  embank- 
 ments in  the  marshes,  where  they  must  have  been 
 tormented  by  the  loathsome  reptiles  and  insects  of 
 the  swamp. — The  forced  building  of  the  fortresses 
 of  Pithon  and  Rameses,  on  the  borders  of  the 
 Desert,  must  have  equally  exposed  them  to  the 
 hornet,  which,  in  Arabia,  is  still  a  dreadful 
 scourge. — The  loss  of  their  cattle,  and  the  breaking 
 out  of  disease  among  the  Israelites,  would  be  the 
 natural  consequence  of  a  fiery  soil,  and  of  the 
 labours  of  the  Israelite  herdsmen  in  so  new  and 
 exhausting  an  employment  as  serving  in  the  Egyp- 
 tian brick-kilns  ^ — The  devastation  of  the  Egyptian 
 harvest  by  the  storm  and  the  locust,  might  have 
 only  retaliated  the  scanty  food  of  the  miserable 
 slave. — How  many  of  them  too  must  have  groaned 
 out  their  lives  in  the  darkness  of  the  dungeon!  for, 
 unquestionably,  the  tyranny  which  began  with 
 the  massacre  of  the  children,  would  not  stop  at 
 any  minor  cruelty  which  promised  to  break  the 
 spirit  of  the  fathers. 
 
 *  The  easinjij  his  shoulder  of  the  burthens,  and  his  hands  of 
 the  making  of  pots,  are  among  the  Psalmist's  instances  of  the 
 Divine  relief  to  Israel. 
 
THE    TEN    PLAGUES.  337 
 
 Philo's  remark  on  the  trivial  nature  of  the 
 means  by  which  the  Egyptians  were  punished, 
 has  been  justly  panegyrised.  "  Why  were  not  the 
 lions  and  panthers  sent  to  overrun  Egypt?  Be- 
 cause it  was  the  Divine  wish  to  afflict,  but  not  to 
 destroy.  Why  were  reptiles  and  insects  the  in- 
 struments ?  Because  they  showed  that  the  feeblest 
 means,  in  the  Divine  hand,  were  irresistible'." 
 
 '  The  favourite  theory  on  the  subject  of  the  plagues,  is  that 
 which  owes  its  revival  to  Bryant ;  namely,  that  a  prominent 
 purpose  was  the  public  humiliation  of  the  Egyptian  worship  of 
 the  Nile,  the  hornet,  the  bull,  the  sun,  &c.  But  the  theory  is 
 unsubstantial.  The  Egyptian  worship  was  so  unsparing,  that 
 if  the  plagues  were  to  be  effected  by  the  use  of  any  natural 
 instruments,  they  must  have  made  use  of  some  of  the  national 
 deities ;  for,  from  light  to  darkness,  from  the  eagle  to  the  gnat, 
 and  from  the  crocodile  to  the  worm,  Egypt  bowed  down  to 
 every  thing ;  or,  as  in  the  passage  which  seems  to  have  ex- 
 pressly referred  to  this  frenzied  universality  of  homage,  to  all 
 in  "  heaven  above,  and  the  earth  beneath,  and  the  waters  under 
 the  earth."  Besides,  the  principle,  to  be  available,  should  be 
 regular :  it  should  be  humiliation  in  all  instances,  or  in  none. 
 But,  if  the  worship  of  the  Nile,  the  bull,  the  sun,  &c.  were 
 degraded  by  the  corruption  of  the  river,  by  the  murrain,  and 
 the  darkness  ;  that  of  the  hornet,  or  of  the  elements,  or  of  the 
 locust,  was  not  degraded,  but  rather  invested  with  additional 
 effect,  from  the  evidence  of  their  extraordinary  powers  of  de- 
 vastation. Bryant's  refuge  in  those  instances  is,  that  the 
 Egyptian  was  here  punished  by  his  deities.  But,  independently 
 of  this  being  a  shifting  of  the  principle,  it  is  still  insufficient. 
 The  Egyptian  never  could  have  worshipped  the  storm,  the 
 hornet,  or  the  locust,  as  ministers  of  beneficence.  He  nmst 
 have  worshipped  them  as  objects  of  fear,   as  the  African  of  this 
 
 Z 
 
338  THE  TEN   PLAGUES. 
 
 day  worships  daemons.  And  all  accession  to  their  power  in  this 
 sense  must  have  justified  the  worshipper,  not  in  sudden  con- 
 tempt, but  in  increased  awe,  and  its  consequent  homage.  In 
 the  plague  of  the  frogs,  he  gives  up  the  principle  altogether, 
 conceiving  that  "whether  the  frog,  among  the  Egyptians,  were 
 an  object  of  veneration  or  not,  it  was  equally  consistent,  to 
 punish  them  by  what  they  abominated,  or  what  they  revered." 
 But  it  is  evident,  that  unless  they  ivorshipped  it,  the  lesson,  in  a 
 religious  aspect,  must  have  been  totally  thrown  away.  A  system 
 of  ihis  unhesitating  order  is  obviously  too  pliant  for  solidity. 
 
CHAPTER  XXVI. 
 
 THE  LAW  OF  MOSES. 
 
 The  progress  of  Israelite  restoration  supplies  con- 
 tinued evidence  of  the  Divine  agency.  When 
 the  first  vision  was  given  to  Moses  in  the  desert, 
 it  was  declared,  that  the  spot  where  he  then  stood, 
 a  lonely  keeper  of  sheep,  should  see  him  a  leader, 
 should  be  covered  with  the  myriads  of  Israel, 
 and  be  a  place  for  the  free  worship  of  Jehovah. 
 "  When  thou  hast  brought  forth  the  people  out  of 
 Egypt,  ye  shall  serve  God  upon  this  mountain^.'" 
 On  the  fiftieth  day  from  their  leaving  Egypt,  the 
 people  worshipping  at  the  foot  of  Horeb,  received 
 the  Ten  Commandments,  the  principles  of  the 
 moral  law,  and  distinguished  by  being  the  only 
 portion  delivered  by  the  voice  of  God. 
 
 The  limits  of  these  pages  preclude  that  detailed 
 inquiry  into  the  Mosaic  Law,  which  cannot  be 
 candidly  pursued  by  any  understanding  witliout 
 producing  the  amplest  conviction  that  it  was  the 
 
 '  Exod.  iii.  12. 
 
 z  2 
 
340  THE  LAW  OF  MOSES. 
 
 work  of  God  in  his  wisdom,  justice,  and  merc}^ 
 The  cavils  of  infidelity  on  its  principles  are  almost 
 worn  away.  In  our  day  they  are  chiefly  reduced 
 to  "  its  omission  of  the  doctrine  of  the  immor- 
 tality of  the  soul."  But,  those  who  bring  this 
 omission  as  a  charge  against  the  law  of  Moses, 
 overlook  the  fact,  that  Moses  was  appointed  to 
 communicate,  not  a  religion,  but  a  law.  The 
 Jewish  nation  already  possessed  a  religion.  For 
 their  ritual,  they  had  an  initiatory  rite,  a  sacred 
 day,  an  act  of  worship,  and  an  act  of  covenant ; 
 for  their  belief,  they  had  the  faith  of  the  Messiah  ; 
 and  the  hope  of  a  renewed  existence  in  a  state  of 
 happiness.  We  are  distinctly  told,  in  the  Epis- 
 tle to  the  Hebrews,  that  all  the  patriarchs  died  in 
 faith,  looking  for  a  heavenly  country  ^  Thus 
 they  had  a  religion  prior  to  the  law,  as  much  as 
 we  have  a  religion  subsequent  to  it.  For  what 
 have  we,  but  an  initiatory  rite,  a  sacred  day,  a 
 public    worship,    and    an    act    of    covenant,    the 
 
 *  The  ordinances  of  the  law,  relative  to  sacrifices  and  festivals, 
 are  but  the  natural  work  of  civil  government ;  matters  of  cere- 
 monial, founded  indeed  on  the  religion,  but  regulated  by  the 
 authority  of  the  state. 
 
 Even  the  Ten  Commandments,  the  most  solemnly  delivered 
 portion  of  the  law,  and  the  ground-work  of  the  whole,  are  sim- 
 ply prohibitory  ;  the  only  portion  of  them  which  speaks  of 
 God,  consisting  of  three  prohibitions, — against  worshipping  a 
 plurality  of  gods — against  idols — and  against  perjury.  The 
 whole  three,  from  the  circumstance  that  God  was  their  King, 
 being  civil  crimes. 
 
THE  LAW  OF  MOSES.  341 
 
 Christian  passover !  Our  belief,  like  theirs,  con- 
 sists in  faith  in  the  Messiah,  and  hope  of  the 
 "heavenly  country." 
 
 Those  objectors  not  less  overlook  the  fact,  that 
 a  religion  and  a  law  are  incapable  of  being  com- 
 bined,   as  systems,   in  one   code.     They  differ  in 
 their  essences,  provinces,  and  objects.     It  is  true 
 that  the  only  solid  foundation  of  law  must  be  the 
 acknowledgment  of  a  God,   for  this  is  the   only 
 solid  foundation  of  human  duties;  but  this  acknow- 
 ledgment is  not  a  religion.    The  essence  of  religion 
 is  hope  ;   of  law  fear.     The  object  of  religion  is 
 virtue,  of  law   order.     The  province  of  religion 
 extends  immeasurably   beyond    the   grave;     law 
 stops  at  the  grave. 
 
 The    difference    is    equally    marked    in    their 
 means.     The  chief  instrument  of  religion  is  faith  ; 
 of  law  fact.     Religion  acts  by  rewards,  as  well 
 as  punishments.     Law  knows  nothing  of  rewards. 
 Religion  sets  no  limits   to   mercy  ;  law,  as  such, 
 knows  nothing  of  mercy  ;  if  pardon  come,  it  must 
 come  from   a  source  above  law.     Religion  gives 
 all   things   to   penitence.      Law  has    no    ear  for 
 penitence.      Religion    is    the    government   of    a 
 father  and  a  king,   guided  by  sympathy,   long- 
 suffering,  and  affection.    .  Law  is  the  decision  of  a 
 judge,   bound   by  established  rule,  abstract,  and 
 inflexible. 
 
 Still,  it  is  not  to  be  questioned,  that  the  Mosaic 
 
342  THE  LAW  OF  MOSES. 
 
 code  was  worthy  of  its  Divine  origin.  St.  Paul 
 declares  it  "  holy,  just,  and  good."  In  the  very 
 act  of  reprobating  the  Jew,  for  erecting  it  into  an 
 instrument  of  salvation,  (in  other  words,  con- 
 founding a  law  with  a  religion,)  he  pronounces  its 
 excellence  to  be  such,  that  if  salvation  by  a  law 
 were  not  an  impossibility,  the  law  of  Moses 
 deserved,  that,  by  it  salvation  should  have  come. 
 The  Apostolic  argument  throughout  is,  that  law, 
 being  only  a  definition  and  denouncement  of  crime, 
 it  is  out  of  the  nature  of  things  that  it  should  be  the 
 instrument  of  a  salvation,  which  depends  on  human 
 penitence  and  Divine  pardon.  He  thus  separates 
 by  an  impassable  line,  the  law  of  Moses  and  the 
 religion  of  the  Jew,  which  was  the  religion  of 
 Abraham,  which  was  the  belief  in  the  virtue  of 
 sacrifice, — a  belief  founded  on  the  merits  of  the 
 common  Redeemer  of  Jew  and  Christian. 
 
 Yet,  the  omission  of  the  doctrine  of  immortality 
 is  strictly  limited  to  the  law,  technically  so  called. 
 The  general  Scripture,  the  "law  and  the  pro- 
 phets," those  vast,  various,  and  luminous  deve- 
 lopments of  the  rule  of  the  Divine  King,  are  full 
 of  the  doctrine.  Immortality  forms  the  great 
 announcement,  purpose,  and  principle  of  inspira- 
 tion ;  sometimes  shadowed  under  types  and  allu- 
 sions ;  sometimes  starting  full  upon  the  eye.  We 
 find  it  growing  in  magnitude  and  splendour 
 throughout  the  Scriptures;  from  the  grey,  oriental 
 
THE  LAW  OF  MOSES.  343 
 
 dawn  of  prophecy,  in  Job,  to  the  setting  sunshine 
 that  covers  Malachi  with  light,  the  broader  and 
 more  effulgent,  as  it  goes  down. 
 
 The  Samaritans,  who  received  only  the  Penta- 
 teuch, believed  in  the  resurrection  and  the  judg- 
 ment ;  in  other  words,  held  the  doctrine  of  immor- 
 tality.   But,  passing  from  the  authority  of  man  to 
 the  declaration  of  God  ;  "  Search  the  Scriptures," 
 says  our  Lord  to  the  Jews,    "  for  in  them  ye  think 
 (rather,    it   is  'your    conviction,    your    judgment, 
 SoKEiTf,)  that  ye  have  eternal  life'/'  He  pronounces 
 that  the  Sadducees,  in  denying  the  existence  of 
 spirits    and  the  resurrection,   showed  only    their 
 ignorance  of  the  declaration  to  Moses,  that  Abra- 
 ham, Isaac,  and  Jacob  were  then  alive,  four  hun- 
 dred years  after  their  being  laid  in  the  grave.     St. 
 Paul,   in   the    explication   of  his  faith  to   Felix, 
 states  that  he   "worships  the  God  of  his  fathers, 
 in  a  way  which,  though  the  Jews  of  his  time  called 
 heresy,  he  had  adopted  from  believing  all  things 
 which  are  written  in   the  law  and  the  prophets,"' 
 and  that  he  had  "  hope  towards  God,  which  the?/ 
 themselves  also  allowed,  that  there  shall  be  a  resur- 
 rection of  the  dead;''  obviously  allowed  also  from 
 the  law  and  the  prophets,  the  only  authority  which 
 he  and  the  Jews  could  recognize   in    common  \ 
 
 '  John  V.  35. 
 
 '  The  allusions  from  the  time  of  David  are  many ;  but  it  is 
 admitted  by  Warburton,  that  from  that  period  the  doctrine  had 
 begun  to  make  its  way  among  the  Jews. 
 
 [The 
 
344  THE    LAW    OF    MOSES. 
 
 The  expressions,  that  the  Fathers  "  died  in  faith," 
 not  having  enjoyed  the  promises,   but  "  desiring 
 
 The  celebrity  of  Bishop  Warburton's  "  Divine  Legation  of 
 Moses"  does  no  distinguished  honour  to  the  theological  intelli- 
 gence of  his  age.  The  work  remains  to  us  as  an  example  of  the 
 extraordinary  delusions  wliich  may  be  suffered  to  cloud  a  pre- 
 sumptuous, though  an  active,  mind.  Arrogant  and  ambitious  by 
 nature,  Warburton  cherished  a  passion  for  paradox.  To  find 
 that  an  idea  had  been  abandoned  by  every  other  man  as  hope- 
 less, was  enough  to  give  it  a  claim  on  his  adoption  for  life.  His 
 defence  of  Pope's  fatalism  is  as  prominent  an  evidence  of  this  per- 
 verse fondness  for  difficulty,  as  his  attempt  to  sustain  the  inspira- 
 tion of  Moses  by  the  proof  of  a  negative.  Like  all  the  avro- 
 SidaKToi,  he  wasted  his  strength  in  encounters,  which  an  earlier 
 discipline  of  his  understanding  would  have  shown  him  to  be 
 desperate.  Colleges,  if  they  do  nothing  else,  at  least  sober  the 
 insolence  of  the  mind.  They  would  have  saved  this  ardent, 
 subtle,  and  even  learned  person,  from  leaving  us  little  more  than 
 the  moral  of  the  attempt  to  atchieve  impossibilities  by  improba- 
 bilities. 
 
 His  argument  in  the  "  Divine  Legation"  is  reducible  to  three 
 propositions. 
 
 1.  That  the  Mosaic  dispensation  contains  7io  reference  what- 
 ever to  the  immortality  of  the  soul. 
 
 2.  That  the  codes  of  all  human  legislators  are  founded  on  the 
 doctrine  of  that  immortality. 
 
 .3.  That  the  codes  of  all  human  legislators  must  be  so  founded. 
 
 The  whole  three  are  visionary  ;  for,  first,  the  entire  sacrificial 
 portion  of  the  law  has  reference  to  a  future  state,  the  principle  of 
 all  its  greater  and  less  sacrifices  alike,  being  the  blood-shedding 
 of  the  Messiah  for  future  redemption,  a  principle  established  from 
 the  beginning  of  the  world. 
 
 Secondly,  he  has  adduced  no  evidence  (for  none  exists)  that 
 any  human  legislator  founded  his  code  on  the  idea  of  a  future 
 
THE    LAW    OF    MOSES.  345 
 
 a  better  country"  even  than  the  one  they  trod, 
 "a  heavenly;"  and  that  "Moses  esteemed  the 
 reproach  of  Christ  greater  than  the  treasures  of 
 EgyP*»"<^ould  have  had  but  one  meaning  in  the  lips 
 of  the  Apostle,  and  that  meaning  the  Gospel,  with 
 its  promises  of  immortality,  and  that  announcement 
 the  language  of  inspiration.     St.  Paul  goes  further 
 
 state  ;  though  they  may  all  have  acknowledged  its  existence, 
 as  they  found  it  the  popular  belief.  The  case  of  Zeleucus  the 
 Locrian,  on  which  he  especially  relies,  amounts  to  no  more  than 
 the  common  warning,  to  provide  against  remorse  in  the  hopeless- 
 ness and  pain  of  the  death-bed,  by  a  life  of  rectitude.  The 
 words  of  Zeleucus  are,  "  that  they  should  set  before  themselves 
 the  dreadful  hour  of  death,  at  which  they  must  all  arrive,  when 
 the  memory  of  evil  actions  will  seize  the  criminal  with  remorse, 
 accompanied  with  the  fruitless  wish  that  he  had  submitted  his 
 actions  to  the  rule  of  justice."  This  is  the  strength  of  the  argu- 
 ment, and  it  is  nothing. 
 
 Thirdly,  nothing  can  be  easier  than  to  conceive  a  code  formed 
 without  any  reference  to  a  future  state.  What  reference  has  the 
 law  of  any  nation,  living  or  dead,  to  a  future  state,  as  an  instru- 
 ment of  procuring  civil  obedience  ;  the  only  purpose  which  law, 
 as  such,  can  contemplate  ?  That  the  belief  in  immortality  is  one 
 of  the  finest  and  most  enduring  principles  even  of  earthly  obe- 
 dience, is  beyond  a  doubt  ;  but  its  origin,  support,  and  duties, 
 are  under  the  care  of  a  higher  code  than  was  ever  made  by  man. 
 
 It  is  to  be  regretted  that  we  are  still  without  a  treatise  on  the 
 Law  of  Moses,  suitable  to  the  requisitions  of  our  time.  Spencer 
 is  learned,  but  he  is  erroneous,  prejudiced,  and  obsolete  ;  Mi- 
 chaelis  is  learned  and  sagacious,  but  he  insults  Scripture  by  the 
 pollution  of  his  own  gross  mind  ;  Graves  is  free  from  those  disabi- 
 lities of  his  predecessors ;  but  the  subject  is  still  ample  and  still 
 open. 
 
346  THE    LAW    OF    MOSES. 
 
 still,  and  in  his  appeal  to  the  Jews  at  Antioch, 
 expressly  declares,  that  redemption  by  Christ,  au- 
 thenticated by  his  rising  from  the  dead,  was  the 
 promise.  "The  promise  which  was  made  unto  the 
 Fathers,  God  hath  fulfilled  the  same  to  us  their 
 children,  in  that  he  hath  raised  up  Jesus  again  \" 
 
 '  Acts  xiii.  32,  &c. 
 
CHAPTER  XXVII. 
 
 THE  TABERNACLE. 
 
 The  construction  of  the  tabernacle  occupies  a 
 singularly  large  share  of  the  Divine  communica- 
 tion in  the  Book  of  Exodus ;  and  its  conformity 
 to  the  Divine  idea  was  additionally  provided  for 
 by  a  model  shown  to  Moses  in  the  Mount.  The 
 cause  of  this  extraordinary  care  must  be  looked 
 for  in  more  than  the  visible  importance  of  the 
 little  temple  of  the  tribes.  The  value  of  places 
 where  the  people  may  assemble  for  public  wor- 
 ship without  disturbance  from  external  things,  is 
 easily  conceived.  But  the  tabernacle  was  not  for 
 the  reception  of  the  people.  In  the  external  area, 
 150  feet  long  by  75  broad,  all  that  could  belong- 
 to  popular  worship  was  performed.  There  stood 
 the  brazen  laver  and  the  great  altar  of  burnt- 
 offerings.  The  tabernacle  in  the  centre  was 
 closed  to  all  but  the  priesthood. 
 
 It  would  be  endless  to  enumerate,  and  impos- 
 sible to  reconcile,  the  variety  of  opinions  which 
 have  existed   relative  to  the   Mosaic  tabernacle. 
 
348  THE    TABERNACLE. 
 
 By  some  authorities  it  is  supposed  to  have  been 
 borrowed  from  the  idol  caverns  and  dark  shrines 
 of  Egypt — a  conjecture  totally  inconsistent  with 
 the  abhorrence  of  the  whole  Mosaic  Polity  for 
 paganism,  and  especially  for  the  paganism  of  a 
 country  which  still  had  too  strong  a  hold  on  the 
 minds  of  a  sensual  people.  By  others  it  is  con- 
 ceived to  represent  heaven.  By  others  the  Holy 
 Place  is  regarded  as  the  emblem  of  this  world, 
 and  the  Holy  of  Holies  as  that  of  the  world  to 
 come  \ 
 
 '  This  idea  is  founded  on  translating  the  words  "  ay  tor  koct- 
 fiiKov" — a  "  mundane  sanctuary."  Our  common  version  is,  a 
 "worldly  sanctuary ;"  both  equally  in  direct  contradiction  to 
 the  context.  But  the  entire  passage  offers  an  instructive  ex- 
 ample of  the  utter  emptiness  of  verbal  criticism.  Wetstein  and 
 Bishop  Middleton  contend  for  "  mundane"  as  the  meaning  of 
 "  Koafiifcoy."  Wakefield  pronounces  it  "  furniture."  A  whole 
 host  insist  that  it  implies  "  magnificent :"  others  that  it  means 
 "earthly  and  degraded:"  some  that  Ko/r^iKoy  must  be  the  sub- 
 stantive ;  others  that  ayioy  ;  others  that  neither.  Bishop  Mid- 
 dleton asserts,  that  to  sustain  our  translation  the  article  is  essen- 
 tial. Others,  equally  determined,  assert,  that  no  article  at  all 
 is  necessary ;  and  that,  if  it  were,  the  Bishop  has  fixed  his 
 favourite  article  on  the  wrong  word :  others  settle  the  contro- 
 versy by  denying  the  existence  of  the  word  itself  in  Greek. 
 
 Yet,  shrinking  from  this  "  confusion  worse  confounded;"  the 
 common  custom  of  all  language  tells  us,  that  the  adjective,  by 
 usage,  can  acquire  the  force  of  the  substantive.  What  would 
 those  critics  make  of  "  the  true  sublime,"  or  of  the  similar  phrases 
 in  all  tongues.  But  the  battle  extends  to  the  "  7rpwr»;,"  which 
 forms  the  distinction  of  the  two  sanctuaries,  but  which  a  crowd 
 
THE    TABERNACLE.  349 
 
 Perfectly  possible  as  it  is,  that  there  may  be  some 
 solemn  likeness  between  things  in  earth  and  things 
 in  heaven — (a  likeness,  however,  which  must  be 
 neither  fitted  nor  intended  for  our  faculties) — still, 
 
 of  those  authorities  pronounce  to  mean,  "  the  original  earthly 
 tabernacle,"  as  contrasted  with  the  "  heavenly."  The  whole 
 passage,  however,  is  perfectly  clear  to  common  apprehensions. 
 St.  Paul,  insisting  upon  the  superior  ministry  of  Christ,  says  of 
 the  two  sanctuaries — "  The  first  (the  outer)  sanctuary,  had  an 
 established  worship  and  sacred  furniture.  For  this  was  the 
 plan  of  the  tabernacle.  There  was  the  outer  sanctuary  (the  an- 
 terior, Trpbj-q,)  which  had  the  lamps,  and  the  table,  and  the 
 show  bread,  which  (sanctuary)  is  called  the  Holy.  But  within 
 the  second  veil  was  the  sanctuary,  which  is  called  the  Holy  of 
 Holies,  which  had  the  golden  censer  and  the  ark  of  the  cove- 
 nant,— wherein  were  the  golden  pot  of  manna,  and  Aaron's  rod 
 that  budded,  and  the  tables  of  the  covenant." 
 
 Even  the  censer  generates  a  controversy.  Kuinoel,  Grotius, 
 &c.  conceive  that  it  did  not  remain  in  the  sanctuary  ;  others 
 that  it  did,  but  was  annually  superseded  by  another;  others, 
 that  it  was  never  left  behind ;  others,  that  it  was  no  censer  at 
 all,  but  an  altar.  The  whole  difficulty  arising  from  overlooking 
 the  obvious  fact,  that  the  Holy  of  Holies,  though  entered  but 
 once  a  year  for  the  solemnities  of  sacrifice,  must,  like  every 
 other  part  of  the  tabernacle,  have  been  kept  in  repair,  cleaned, 
 and  set  in  order  for  the  service,  by  the  servants  of  the  Temple. 
 The  censer  might  thus  have  remained  during  the  year  within 
 the  veil,  which  was  its  proper  place ;  but  might  have  been 
 brought  out  on  the  eve  of  the  great  ceremony  for  the  use  of  the 
 High  Priest,  which  was  its  proper  purpose.  We  know  that  in 
 the  marches  of  the  tribes  in  the  wilderness,  the  whole  tabernacle 
 was  entered,  taken  to  pieces,  and  put  together  by  the  Levite 
 attendants,  as  it  happened  to  be  necessary. 
 
350  THE    TABERNACLE. 
 
 none  of  the  theories  hitherto  proposed  relieve  the 
 difficulties  which  naturally  arise  out  of  the  subject. 
 Why  there  should  have  been  two  sanctuaries, 
 and  no  more  ? — Why,  while  the  outer  sanctuary 
 was  open  to  the  daily  services  of  the  several 
 priesthood,  the  inner  was  closed  to  all  but  the 
 High  Priest,  and  to  him  on  all  days  but  one  in 
 the  year,  and  that  the  day  of  national  Atone- 
 ment?— Why,  while  the  outer  sanctuary  was 
 adorned  with  golden  table  and  lamp,  golden 
 urns,  and  the  furniture  of  a  royal  banquet,  the 
 inner  contained  but  the  censer  and  ark  of  the 
 covenant  ? — Why  the  veil  of  the  inner  sanctuary 
 was  totally  rent  on  the  day  of  the  crucifixion  ? — 
 Why  both  the  sanctuaries  ceased  to  exist  soon 
 after,  and  have  never  been  restored  ? 
 
 St.  Paul's  declarations  of  the  office  of  our  Lord, 
 as  the  Minister  of  a  "  better  covenant,"  form  the 
 ground  of  the  theory  now  proposed,  and  which 
 seems  to  offer  a  plain  solution  to  all  those  difficul- 
 ties. This  theory,  with  respect  to  the  two  sanc- 
 tuaries, is, — that  they  represented  the  Jewish  and 
 Christian  dispensations ;  and,  with  respect  to  the 
 ark  of  the  covenant, — that  it  represented  Para- 
 dise. 
 
 First,  as  to  the  two  sanctuaries.  Until  the  ap- 
 pointed time  of  Christianity,  Judaism  was  to  be 
 the  authorized  religion  ;  the  Holy  Place,  its  re- 
 presentative, was  therefore  to  continue  open. 
 Christianity    was    practically    non-existent  ;    the 
 
 7 
 
THE    TABERNACLE.  351 
 
 Holy  of  Holies,  its  representative,  was  therefore 
 to  continue  closed.  Yet,  as  Christianity  virtually 
 lived  in  the  promise  to  Abraham,  an  indication 
 Avas  to  be  given,  even  in  that  closed  sanctuary, 
 alike  of  its  relation  to  Judaism,  its  nature,  and  its 
 spiritual  superiority.  The  Holy  of  Holies  was  to  be 
 entered  only  through  the  Holy  Place  ;  for  Judaism 
 was  to  be  the  preliminary  to  Christianity.  The 
 Holy  of  Holies,  with  the  High  Priest,  (the  ac- 
 knowledged representative  of  the  Messiah)  for  its 
 sole  minister ; — with  its  single  day  of  opening  in 
 the  year — (the  year  itself  being  a  representative 
 of  all  time) — and  with  its  single  sacrifice,  suffi- 
 cient for  the  whole  national  sin ;  depicted  a  coming 
 religion,  in  which  the  Messiah  alone  was  to  be 
 the  offerer  ;  the  offering  was  to  be  made  once  and 
 for  ever  ;  and  the  atonement  was  to  be  universal. 
 
 But  the  spiritual  superiority  of  the  coming  reli- 
 gion was  to  be  shown  not  only  in  this  representa- 
 tive superiority,  of  the  High  Priest  to  the  other 
 orders  of  the  priesthood,  of  his  one  solemn  sacri- 
 fice to  the  various  and  perpetual  offerings  of  the 
 outer  sanctuary,  and  of  the  high  day  of  national 
 atonement  to  the  common  and  daily  ministrations 
 of  the  altar  ;  but  in  the  furnishing  and  circum- 
 stances of  the  two  sanctuaries.  The  Holy  of 
 Holies,  divested  of  all  the  tangible  human  pomps 
 of  worship,  containing  only  the  censer  and  the 
 ark  of  the  covenant,  liohted  bv  no  earthly  illunii- 
 nation,   but   by  the  glory  that    sat    between  the 
 
352  THE    TABERNACLE. 
 
 cherubim,  gave  the  distinct  emblem  of  a  religion 
 whose  essence  was  spirituality,  and  which  required 
 nothing  of  the  costly  ceremonial  and  earthly  mag- 
 nificence of  Judaism  ;  a  religion,  in  which  the  only 
 offering  of  the  worshipper  was  to  be  the  incense  of 
 prayer;  the  only  object  immortality  (designated  by 
 the  ark);  and  the  only  light,  the  light  from  Heaven. 
 
 But  the  time  of  Christianity  came  at  last.  In 
 the  day  of  the  great  year  of  the  world's  existence, 
 appointed  from  the  beginning ;  Christ,  the  high 
 priest  after  the  unchangeable  order  of  Melchize- 
 dec,  alone,  offered  up  his  sacrifice,  a  propitiation 
 for  the  "  sins  of  the  whole  world."  In  that  hour, 
 the  veil  ^  which  had  so  long  hidden  the  Holy  of 
 Holies,  was  totally  and  finally  rent  in  twain,  "  torn 
 from  top  to  bottom."  Judaism  was  thenceforth  to 
 merge  into  Christianity.  The  two  sanctuaries 
 were  now  one.  The  true  Israelite  and  the  Christ- 
 ian were  to  be  fellow-worshippers  in  the  same 
 temple;  which  was  no  longer  to  have  any  narrower 
 confines  than  the  earth,  or  any  more  limited 
 homage  than  the  adoration  of  all  the  races  of 
 men.  But,  when  the  reality  has  come,  the  em- 
 blem naturally  passes  away.  Within  a  few  years, 
 the  Jewish  Temple,  with  both  its  sanctuaries  and 
 their  services,  was  extinguished,   and   the  world 
 
 '  The  outer  sanctuary  also  was  closed  by  a  curtain,  termed 
 "  the  hanging"  of  the  tabernacle  of  the  congregation.  (Exod. 
 xxvii.  36.)  It  was  the  curtain  of  the  Holy  of  Holies  that  was 
 properly  termed  "the  veil."    (ibid,  xxvii.  31.) 
 
THE    TABERNACLE.  353 
 
 has  never  seen,  and  shall  never  see.  their  re- 
 vival. 
 
 The  Ark  of  the  Covenant  is  a  subject  of  equal 
 importance,  and  has  been  equally  mistaken.  It 
 must  be  useless  to  more  than  advert  to  the  con- 
 jectures, which  have  been  offered  as  explanations 
 of  this  most  magnificent  and  impressive  of  all  the 
 emblems  of  Judaeism.  Some  writers  have  con- 
 ceived it  to  represent  the  throne  of  Deity  in  hea- 
 ven :  others,  by  a  more  extended  sense,  heaven 
 itself.  The  cherubim  have  been  conceived  by 
 some,  the  general  emblems  of  Providence ;  by 
 others,  the  Ogdoad,  or  eight  persons  in  the  ark, 
 corresponding  to  their  twice  four  faces ;  though 
 this  idea  leaves  us  to  account  as  we  may  for  their 
 wings,  their  position,  and  the  various  aspects  of 
 those  faces.  Others  have  even  held  them  to  be 
 imitations  of  the  compounded  Egyptian  and  In- 
 dian symbols,  sphinxes,  &c.  But  some  have  ap- 
 proached nearer  the  truth,  and  conceiving  the 
 Holy  of  Holies  to  represent  the  garden  of  Eden, 
 have  supposed  the  ark,  with  its  cherubim,  to 
 represent  the  guard  which  kept  the  gate  against 
 the  steps  of  man'. 
 
 The  theory  now  proposed  is,  that  the  ark  of  the 
 covenant  itself  was  the  direct  emblem  of  Paradise. 
 In  this,  as  in  the  former  instance,  the  clearest 
 test  of  the  various  theories   is,    their  answer  to 
 
 '  Hales,  Faber,  &c. 
 A  a 
 
354  THE    TABERNACLE. 
 
 the  questions  which  suggest  themselves  upon 
 the  subject, — Why  were  the  tables  of  the  Law, 
 and  the  golden  vessel  which  held  the  manna, 
 placed  within  the  ark  ?  Why  were  the  cherubim 
 fixed  upon  it,  overshadowing  it  with  their  wings  ? 
 Why  did  the  glory  rest  between  the  cherubim  ? 
 Why  was  its  lid,  or  door,  expressly  called  the 
 mercy-seat?  (ijropitiatory ,  iXaarn^iov .)  Why  was 
 that  door  sprinkled  with  the  blood  on  the  day  of 
 atonement  ?  Why  was  the  ark  kept  exclusively  in 
 the  Holy  of  Holies,  and  unseen  but  by  the  high 
 priest  ?    Why  has  it  perished,  without  restoration  ? 
 
 The  result  of  the  original  fall  had  been  the  loss 
 of  Paradise  :  the  result  of  the  sacrifice  of  the 
 Messiah  was  to  be  the  possession  of  a  Paradise, 
 of  which  the  garden  of  Eden,  with  its  human 
 enjoyments,  was  the  foretaste.  It  was  the  Divine 
 will  that,  until  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  there 
 should  be  an  existing  testimony  of  the  original 
 crime  and  its  consequences.  In  the  ante-diluvian 
 world,  this  testimony  existed,  in  the  visible  pre- 
 sence of  Paradise,  with  the  cherubic  guard,  and 
 the  Divine  flame,  which  prohibited  human  en- 
 trance. In  the  Jewish  dispensation,  this  testi- 
 mony was  preserved,  in  the  ark  of  the  covenant, 
 whose  door,  like  the  gate  of  Paradise,  was  guard- 
 ed by  the  cherubim,  and  on  whicli  sat  the  actual 
 glory  of  the  Lord. 
 
 The  two  great  characteristics  of  Paradise  were 
 — the  tree  of  knowledge,  by  which   came  death  ; 
 
THE    TABERNACLE.  355 
 
 and  the  tree  of  immortality.  By  the  express  com- 
 mand of  God  to  Moses,  the  ark  contained  the 
 two  corresponding  characteristics— the  tables  of 
 the  law,  and  the  vessel  of  manna.  The  Law  of 
 works,  (by  which  was  "  the  knowledge  of  sin,'') 
 being  confessedly  the  law  of  death  ;  and  the 
 manna,  (the  bread  which  came  down  from  hea- 
 ven,) being  as  confessedly  the  emblehi  of  "  that 
 bread,  which  he  who  tastes  shall  never  die," — 
 the  food  of  immortality. 
 
 Still,  the  gate  of  Paradise  was  not  to  be  shut 
 for  ever.  The  door  of  the  ark  of  the  covenant 
 was  named  the  propitiatory  ;  in  sign  that  its  open- 
 ing was  to  be  through  the  work  of  the  Divine 
 propitiation  ;  and  was  sprinkled  with  the  blood 
 of  the  sacrifice  on  the  day  of  atonement,  in  sign 
 that,  by  the  blood  of  the  great  sacrifice  was  the 
 propitiation  to  be  made. 
 
 It  is  remarkable  that  this  largest  and  most 
 splendid  work,  of  all  that  the  tabernacle  con- 
 tained, should  not  have  been  displayed  to  the 
 popular  eye,  in  a  religion  and  service  which  so 
 highly  cultivated  pomp  of  worship  ;  but  that  its 
 golden  frame  and  its  cherubim  should  have  been 
 enclosed  in  the  inner  sanctuary,  and  shut  up, 
 through  all  ages,  from  the  national  knowledge. 
 Yet  this  position  only  reinforces  the  proof  of  its 
 purpose.  Paradise  w^as  to  be  opened,  not  by 
 Judaeism,  but  by  Christianit)^  The  emblem  be- 
 longed to   Christianity  ;     and   it  was,    therefore, 
 
 A  a  2 
 
356  THE    TABERNACLE, 
 
 retained  in  the  Holy  of  Holies,  the  sanctuary  that 
 represented  the  religion. 
 
 But,  like  the  sanctuaries,  when  the  reality 
 came,  the  emblem  passed  away.  The  death  of 
 the  Messiah  had  accomplished  the  victory,  by 
 which  the  gates  of  Paradise  were  to  be  opened  to 
 mankind  ;  and,  abolishing  the  law  of  works,  (the 
 fatal  tree  by  which  Paradise  was  lost,)  and  offering 
 immortality  (the  tree  of  life)  freely  to  all,  replaced 
 the  whole  human  race,  (who  shall  accept  the  terms 
 of  redemption,)  in  a  state  of  higher  security  than 
 that  of  their  first  father, — a  state  to  enjoy  the 
 celestial  Paradise  for  ever,  without  fear  of  a  fall. 
 
 Aaron's  "  rod  that  budded"  was  laid  up  "  before 
 the  ark,"  probably  as  an  emblem  of  the  connexion 
 of  the  Jewish  High  Priest  with  the  Messiah. 
 The  shape  of  the  ark  itself  may  have  been  ap- 
 pointed, like  its  name,  in  reference  to  that  earlier 
 fabric  in  which  the  Church,  and  Mith  it  the  reli- 
 gion of  the  promise,  was  transmitted  from  the 
 ante-diluvian  world,  to  spread  through  the  future. 
 It  has  been  already  observed,  that  the  plan  of  the 
 tabernacle,  and  all  that  it  contained,  was  totally 
 unmingled  with  human  invention.  "Thou  shalt 
 rear  up  the  tabernacle  according  to  the  fashion 
 thereof,  that  was  showed  thee  in  the  mount." 
 The  whole  construction  and  its  contents  were 
 essential  to  the  typical  purpose ;  and  all  was, 
 therefore,  made  "  according  to  the  pattern" 
 commanded    by    Him    who    had    ordained    the 
 
THE    TABERNACLE.  357 
 
 realization   of  the   type;    that   type    itself   being 
 equivalent  at  once  to  a  pledge  and  a  prophecy. 
 
 The  value  of  those  topics  is  not  merely  in  their 
 curiosity  ;  in  the  learning  which  has  been  so  long 
 devoted  to  them  ;  or  in  their  illustration  of  the  ha- 
 bits and  history  of  the  most  extraordinary  of  all 
 nations. — But,  in  their  evidence  of  unintermitting 
 design,  of  a  providential  plan,  beginning  at  the 
 earliest  ages,  and  continued,  without  the  breaking 
 of  a  link,  to  the  last.  The  most  important  of  all 
 the  results  of  Scriptural  investigation  must  be,  its 
 result  upon  the  individual  mind,  in  its  establish- 
 ment of  a  personal  conviction  that  the  Scriptures 
 are  true ;  that  their  doctrines  are  the  actual  dictates 
 of  Heaven  ;  and  that,  in  listening  to  them  as  the 
 hourly  guides  of  life,  and  receiving  their  warn- 
 ings and  promises  as  facts  undeniable,  we  are 
 acting  upon  grounds  of  the  most  perfect  security. 
 This  conviction  (miracle  apart,)  cannot  be  ob- 
 tained without  the  exertion  of  our  reason  ;  and 
 even  the  influence  of  the  Divine  Spirit  is  un- 
 doubtedly much  more  frequently  applied  to  the 
 clearance  of  our  reason,  than  to  the  relief  of  its 
 labours, — much  more  to  the  enabling  it  to  exert 
 its  natural  powers  freely  in  the  discovery  of  truths, 
 for  which  such  force  and  variety  of  evidence  is 
 prepared,  than  to  supplying  it  with  unsought 
 conclusions,  and  warmino-  the  heart  without  en- 
 lightening  the  understanding.  In  the  mutual 
 relation  of  the  two   sanctuaries,   we  see  a   work 
 
358  THE    TABERNACLE. 
 
 whose  extent,  fulness,  and  accuracy,  compel  us 
 to  acknowledge  it  as  the  work,  not  of  man,  but 
 of  God, — a  bond  established  between  the  two 
 inspired  religions :  one  commencing  with  the 
 dawn  of  civilization  in  the  world  after  the  deluge ; 
 and  the  other  extending  to  the  last  hours  which 
 shall  pass  over  the  head  of  mankind  :  Judseism, 
 a  duration  of  nearly  2000  years ;  Christianity, 
 already  nearly  as  old,  and  destined  to  a  career, 
 of  which  the  limit  is  beyond  knowledge.  In  the 
 ark  of  the  covenant,  we  see  another  bond,  esta- 
 blished still  farther  back,  reaching  from  the  fall 
 to  the  consummation  of  Judaeism  ;  and  this  bond 
 not  a  mere  invention  of  human  ingenuity,  at- 
 tempting to  embody  traditions  in  things  ;  but  de- 
 clared, point  by  point,  to  be  "  after  the  pattern" 
 shown  by  God.  And  this  emblem  not  a  vague 
 and  general  representation  ;  but  a  direct,  exact, 
 and  minute  compilation  of  parts,  all  expressive, 
 and  all  combining  in  the  expression  of  one  object, 
 —  the  restoration  of  mankind  by  the  death  of  the 
 Redeemer.  It  is  to  be  remarked,  also,  that  this 
 emblem  was  framed  nearly  1500  years  before  the 
 event ;  that,  in  all  probability,  its  meaning  w^as  as 
 little  comprehended  by  the  Jews  in  general,  as 
 its  fabric  was  seen  ;  that  the  first  rational  attempt 
 ever  made  to  explain  it,  was  made  by  the  Great 
 Apostle  ;  and  that  being  thus  "  hard  to  be  under- 
 stood," as  it  must  have  been,  by  the  Jew,  and 
 perfectly  comprehensible  as  it  is  by  the  Christian, 
 
THE    TABERNACLE,  359 
 
 it  was  chiefly  intended  to  invigorate  our  conviction, 
 through  the  medium  of  our  knowledge. 
 
 It  is  true  that,  from  the  moment  of  the  original 
 promise  to  Adam,  Paradise  was  virtually  re-open- 
 ed. The  declaration  that  the  promised  Son  should 
 bruise  the  serpent'shead,  was  an  immediate  revoking 
 of  that  death,  which  would  otherwise  have  been 
 instant  and  final.  Thenceforth,  if  man  perished, 
 it  must  be  by  his  refusal  of  the  terms  of  immor- 
 tality. The  spiritual  Paradise  was  freely  entered 
 by  all  who  came  purified  by  that  supreme  sacri- 
 fice, through  whose  eflicacy,  remote  as  its  actual 
 completion  was,  they  solicited  reconciliation.  But 
 the  emblem  of  the  closed  Paradise  was  retained, 
 — for  an  evidence  of  the  ruin,  the  ark  of  the  testi- 
 mony ; — and,  for  an  equal  evidence  of  the  recon- 
 ciliation, the  ark  of  the  covenant.  With  the 
 actual  sacrifice  of  the  Messiah,  the  use  of  the 
 emblem,  in  both  prospect  and  retrospect,  was  at 
 an  end. 
 
CHAPTER  XXVIIL 
 
 THE  SABBATH. 
 
 The  renewal  of  the  Sabbath  was  one  of  the  lead- 
 ing ordinances  of  the  Mosaic  law.  The  opinions 
 on  the  subject,  widely  as  they  diverge,  are  re- 
 ducible to  the  three  questions: — Was  the  Sabbath 
 observed  previously  to  the  time  of  Moses  ?  Was 
 the  day  then  appointed  the  literal  seventh  day  in 
 succession  from  the  day  hallowed  in  Paradise  ? 
 Was  the  change  adopted  in  the  Apostolic  age 
 binding  upon  posterity  ? — Abandoning  the  cum- 
 brous and  contradictory  references  to  human 
 judgment',  we  must  look  for  the  only  safe  solu- 
 tion to  the  Scriptures. 
 
 The  first  declaration  to  Moses  involving  the 
 appointment  of  a  Sabbath,  is  simply  a  promise  of 
 the  manna  : — "  Behold,  I  will  rain  bread  from 
 heaven  for  you.  And  it  shall  come  to  pass,  that 
 on  the  sixth  day,  they  shall  prepare  that  which 
 they  bring  in  ;  and   it  sliall  be  twice  as  much  as 
 
 '   Heylin,  &c. 
 
THE  SABBATH.  361 
 
 they  gather  daily'."  Here  the  communication 
 ends.  But  Moses  draws  from  it  the  direct  con- 
 clusion, that  the  day  which  follows  the  double 
 portion  is  intended  for  a  period  in  which  the 
 people  shall  rest  from  their  occupation ;  that  oc- 
 cupation, in  the  Wilderness,  being  naturally  con- 
 fined to  the  preparation  of  food.  On  the  sixth 
 day,  the  rulers  of  the  tribes  announce  that  a 
 double  quantity  of  manna  has  fallen  ;  and  he  at 
 once  declares  that  to-morrow  is  the  rest  of  the 
 Holy  Sabbath  to  the  Lord."  The  allusion  here  is 
 not  merely  to  a  day  of  rest  in  general,  but  to  a 
 peculiar  day  of  rest,  the  Lord's  Sabbath,  which 
 also  receives  the  same  epithet  of  holy,  given  to  it 
 at  the  close  of  creation — "  And  God  blessed  the 
 seventh  day,  and  sanctified  it  ^,''  declared  it  holy, 
 separated  to  his  especial  honour.  No  further 
 explanation  of  the  "  Rest"  is  given,  than  that  "  it 
 is  the  sabbath  of  the  Lord  ;"  a  name  which  seems 
 to  have  been  equivalent  to  all  explanation.  That 
 the  sabbath  was  not  spoken  of  by  name  in  the 
 long  interval  from  its  appointment  in  paradise,  is 
 no  evidence  that  it  was  not  observed.  Thus,  we 
 have  no  mention  of  sacrifice  from  Abel  to  Noah, 
 a  period  of  2000  years ;  yet  we  cannot  doubt, 
 that  the  rite  was  constantly  sustained  in  the 
 patriarchal  family,  for  we  knoze^  that  without  it 
 they  could  not   have   either   lived  or   "  died  in 
 
 '  Exod.  xvi.  4,  5.  ^  Gen.  ii.  3. 
 
362  THE  SABBATH. 
 
 faith  ^"  Circumcision  equally  sinks  out  of  history 
 for  430  years,  from  Abraham  to  Moses,  (excepting 
 the  single  transaction  of  the  Shechemites,)  yet 
 Moses  perfectly  understands  the  Divine  rebuke,  in 
 the  instance  of  his  son,  and  obeys.  But,  to  the 
 maintenance  of  the  sabbath  there  were  frequent 
 allusions  in  the  intermediate  time.  The  division 
 into  sevens  of  days  is  used  in  the  declaration  of  the 
 coming  deluge.  "  Yet  seven  days  and  I  will 
 cause  it  to  rain."  It  marks  the  several  times  of 
 sending  out  the  raven  and  the  dove.  Even  so  far 
 down  as  the  exile  of  Jacob,  and  in  the  family  of 
 the  Chaldee  Laban,  we  find  a  iveek  the  recognized 
 period  of  Leah's  marriage  festival,  "Fulfil  her 
 week.''  The  week  was  also  adopted  by  the  chief 
 nations  branching  from  the  line  of  Shem.  On  no 
 other  discoverable  ground,  was  seven  the  number 
 of  perfection,  the  sign  of  a  thing  complete,  the  great 
 sacrificial  number.       Job's  sacrifice  was    ''^  seven 
 
 '  In  the  first  demand  of  Moses  to  Pharaoh,  the  mention  of 
 sacrifice  is  made,  as  of  a  thing  perfectly  understood.  He  re- 
 quires that  the  people  shall  be  suffered  to  go  into  the  desert,  to 
 sacrifice.  The  rite  had  as  evidently  been  intermitted  during 
 the  bondage,  and  perhaps  during  the  entire  residence  in  Egypt, 
 through  fear  of  offending  the  Egyptians.  For  when  Pharaoh, 
 after  the  plague  of  flies,  bids  them  "  Go  sacrifice  in  the  land," 
 Moses  refuses,  on  the  ground  that  in  sacrificing  "  the  abomina- 
 tion of  the  Egyptians,  they  might  be  stoned." — (Exod.  viii.  26.) 
 Yet,  with  that  intenuission  of  probably  215  years,  the  idea  of 
 sacrifice  is  exactly  retained  ;  Moses  demands  the  Israelite  cattle 
 for  "  sacrifices  and  burnt-offerings." — (Exod.  x.  2.').) 
 
THE  SABBATH.  363 
 
 bullocks  and  seven  rams."  Balaam's  was  of  the 
 same  number  of  both  on  seveji  altars  ;  and  the  ex- 
 ample of  the  great  Mesopotamian  diviner,  whose 
 fame  had  spread  through  the  East,  and  who  was 
 summoned  to  aid  the  councils  of  kings,  or  avert 
 the  fall  of  nations,  shows  the  high  repute  of  the 
 custom  in  his  day.  In  the  absence  of  all  facts  to 
 the  contrary,  those  circumstances,  on  every  ra- 
 tional principle  of  evidence,  are  decisive.  The 
 original  sabbath  must  have  been  observed  by  the 
 patriarchal  world. 
 
 The  question  of  the  restoration  of  the  literal  day 
 is  to  be  answered  by  a  similar  appeal  to  circum- 
 stances. That  the  observance  of  a  seventh  day 
 had  been  intermitted,  (probably  during  the  whole 
 period  of  the  bondage,)  is  evident  from  its  renewal, 
 and  from  the  formality  and  distinction  of  that 
 renewal.  But  if  dependence  on  one  contingency 
 implies  another,  the  first  Mosaic  sabbath  must  have 
 been  totally  contingent.  The  appointment  of  the 
 particular  day  was  palpably  regulated  by  one  of 
 the  most  accidental  circumstances  conceivable ; 
 the  time  at  which  the  miscellaneous  multitude  of 
 the  Israelites  had  exhausted  the  provisions  brought 
 with  them  from  Egypt.  They  clamoured,  that 
 they  had  been  betrayed  into  the  wilderness  to  die 
 of  famine.  In  answer,  meat  and  bread  were  pro- 
 mised. And  the  seventh  day  from  the  giving  of 
 that  bread,  is  appointed  as  the  day  "  holy  to  the 
 Lord."     Having  no  declaration  of  Scripture  to  the 
 
364  THE  SABBATH. 
 
 contrary,  and  being  thus  committed  to  human 
 reason  on  the  subject,  it  has  a  right  to  be  assumed 
 as  an  authority ;  and  its  conclusion  clearly  is, 
 that  the  day,  in  this  instance,  was  wholly  con- 
 tingent;  and  that  the  object  was  entirely  gained 
 by  the  separation  of  one  day  in  seven. 
 
 Even  in  the  delay  of  the  sabbath  to  this  period, 
 we,  possibly,  may  trace  the  hand  of  Providence.  If 
 the  sabbath  had  been  appointed,  while  the  people 
 still  enjoyed  their  Egyptian  food  ;  the  ordinance 
 might  have  fallen  with  ineffectual  weight  on  so 
 fickle  and  thoughtless  a  race.  But  when,  in  the 
 immediate  terror  of  famine,  they  were  compelled 
 to  feel  their  dependence  on  Divine  aid  ;  the  com- 
 mand, connected  with  the  exigent  supply  of  bread, 
 must  have  assumed  a  much  more  impressive 
 aspect,  and  been  received  as  coming  from  the 
 Divine  authority. 
 
 The  cojitingent  nature  of  the  first  Mosaic  sab- 
 bath goes  far  to  decide  the  question  of  the  Lord's 
 day.  If,  in  the  former  instance,  a  compound  of 
 human  wants  and  human  offences,  hunger  and 
 murmurings,  were  thought  fit  by  Divine  wisdom 
 to  fix  the  Jewish  sabbath  ;  on  how  much  higher 
 grounds  has  the  same  wisdom  taught  us  to  fix  the 
 Christian  day  of  rest. — The  first  day  of  the  week  ; 
 distinguished  by  the  most  momentous  displays  of 
 beneficence  and  power,  the  resurrection,  the  suc- 
 cessive appearances  of  the  risen  Christ,  and  the 
 Pentecost  !    That  the  change  of  the  day  existed 
 
THE  SABBATH.  365 
 
 from  the  Apostolic  age,  we  have  the  evidence  of 
 Scripture  ;  that  the  change  was  by  Divine  wis- 
 dom, we  have  the  authority  of  Christ,  in  the 
 declaration,  that  whatever  the  apostles  "  bound  or 
 loosed,"  should  be  sanctioned  in  Heaven. 
 
 The  extraordinary  share  occupied  by  the  sab- 
 bath in  the  Jewish  ritual — its  prominence  in  the 
 Ten  Commandments — its  memorials  in  the  sab- 
 batical year,  in  the  jubilee,  in  the  weeks  of  the 
 passover,  of  the  pentecost,  and  of  the  feast  of 
 tabernacles — the  perpetual  admonitions  to  keep  it 
 sacred,  and  the  fearful  and  peculiar  judgments 
 which  avowedly  avenged  its  violation — naturally 
 suggest  the  inquiry,  why  means  so  powerful  should 
 have  been  adopted  for  preserving  its  existence  in 
 the  national  mind. 
 
 The  value  of  a  sabbath  is  fully  intelligible,  as  a 
 day  of  relaxation,  in  a  world  where  man  must  earn 
 his  bread  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow  ;  and  as  a  day  on 
 which,  withdrawing  from  the  anxieties  and  labours 
 of  that  world,  he  may  give  his  thoughts  to  higher 
 things.  But  the  declared  ground  of  its  establish- 
 ment, in  the  great  summary  of  the  law  from  Heaven, 
 is  that  "  In  six  days  God  created  the  heavens  and 
 earth,  resting  on  the  seventh  day."  The  seventh 
 day  was  given  to  rest,  because  the  six  preceding 
 had  been  given  to  the  work  of  creation.  Thus  the 
 chief  purpose  of  the  sabbath,  by  the  Divine  decla- 
 ration,   is  to  impress    the   fact  for  ever  on   the 
 
366  THE  Sabbath. 
 
 memory  of  man,  that  the  universe  is  the  work  of 
 the  Deity. 
 
 In  this  purpose  we  see  only  a  new  proof  of  the 
 far-reaching  wisdom  of  Heaven.  For,  on  this 
 fact  alone  is  founded  the  whole  morality  of  man. 
 One  of  the  oldest  questions  of  the  human  under- 
 standing is,  "  Why  are  we  hound  to  obey  the 
 Divine  will?"  Some  authorities  have  held  fear 
 of  the  Divine  power  to  be  the  legitimate  principle. 
 But  fear  is  an  ignoble  passion,  acting  by  ignoble 
 means,  evasion,  distrust,  and  hatred  ;  enfeebling 
 the  energies  of  the  agent  in  proportion  to  its  force, 
 and,  after  all,  capable  of  being  thrown  off,  \vith- 
 out  a  stain  on  duty,  gratitude,  or  virtue.  Others 
 have  held  the  Divine  rewards  as  the  sufficient 
 motive  ^  Yet,  the  hope  of  reward,  alone,  is  selfish, 
 extinguishing  all  magnanimity,  and  is  equall}' 
 capable  of  being  abandoned  without  a  crime. 
 
 But  the  fact  of  creation  establishes  a  claim, 
 irresistible  by  every  higher  feeling  of  the  heart. 
 In  human  life,  who  has  a  right  to  call  upon  us 
 for  the   full  use  of  our  means,  equal  to  the  man 
 
 '  It  is  surprising  to  find  even  Bishop  Butler  holding,  that 
 our  regard  for  virtue  involves  a  view  of  its  rewards :  as  if  there 
 could  be  no  spontaneous  desire  to  benefit  mankind,  or  honour 
 the  Deity  ;  or  as  if  those  feelings  were  not  daily  evinced  in  the 
 mind  of  every  man  of  virtue  ;  or  as  if  the  sense  of  the  virtue 
 were  not  actually  diminished  in  exact  proportion  to  the  sense  of 
 the  reward. 
 
THE    SABBATH,  3G7 
 
 who  may  have  originally  given  us  those  means  ? 
 Against  whom  would  the  voice  of  mankind  be 
 more  instinctively  raised  than  against  the  denier 
 of  such  an  obligation  ?  And  it  is  thus  that  we 
 stand  with  the  Creator.  What  claim  to  the  ser- 
 vice of  our  powers  can  equal  His,  by  whom  those 
 powers  were  spontaneously  given  ?  What  alle- 
 giance of  heart  or  understanding  are  we  entitled 
 to  withdraw  from  the  great  Benefactor  by  whom 
 both  were  endowed  ?  What  labour  of  the  intel- 
 lect, what  tribute  of  the  wealth,  what  obedience 
 of  the  will,  what  sacred  devotement  of  the  affec- 
 tions, are  we  justified  in  refusing  to  the  all-giving 
 Source  of  the  mind,  the  opulence,  the  volition, 
 and  the  feelings  ?  On  this  principle,  no  service 
 can  be  withheld.  The  deepest  requisition  of 
 obedience  must  be  complied  with,  on  the  mere 
 impulse  of  our  nature.  Having  received  all,  we 
 must  be  ready,  on  common  principles,  to  repay 
 all ;  unless  we  are  prepared  for  the  charge  of 
 acknowledged  ingratitude  ;  which  is  but  another 
 name  for  an  acknowledged  failure  in  the  sense 
 of  dignity,  justice,  and  honour ;  which  is  but 
 another  name  for  the  refusal  of  a  right — a  re- 
 fusal, in  itself,  constituting  a  crime.  And  this 
 bond,  thus  clinging  to  every  limb  of  the  moral 
 frame,  and  utterly  inextricable,  is  yet  so  far  from 
 being  a  restraint  on  the  nobler  impulses  of  our 
 nature,  that  it  is  a  chief  source  of  their  healthful 
 growth  and  legitimate  vigour  ;  rendering  duty  the 
 
 7 
 
368  THE    SABBATH. 
 
 prime  mover  of  all  our  actions,  and  sustaining 
 and  elevating  its  efforts  by  the  ardour  of  generous 
 affection  ;  extinguishing  all  selfishness,  the  bane 
 of  all  magnanimity ;  purifying  hope  and  fear  by 
 love ;  and  constringing  and  modelling  the  whole 
 human  nature  into  the  closest  resemblance  to  the 
 Divine. 
 
 The  permanency  of  the  Lord's  day  is  a  direct 
 consequence.  If  the  practice  of  honouring  a  Sab- 
 bath be  essentially  connected  with  the  principle 
 of  honouring  the  Creator; — and  if  that  principle 
 be  the  foundation  of  all  religious  obedience,  and 
 with  it,  of  all  human  happiness, — what  ground 
 have  we  to  doubt,  that  the  principle  and  the  prac- 
 tice were  intended  to  live  and  die  together?  that 
 the  solemn  and  grateful  observance  of  a  seventh 
 day,  in  distinct  acknowledgment  of  the  Creator, 
 was  Divinely  appointed,  and  that  it  was  appointed 
 to  last  as  long  as  mankind  '  ? 
 
 '  It  has  been  rashly  objected,  that  the  Ten  Commandments, 
 however  valuable  as  foundations  of  general  morality,  were  exclu- 
 sively addressed  to  the  Jews  ;  alleging  for  this,  the  exclusiveness 
 of  the  command  to  honour  our  parents,  on  a  promise  of  long  life 
 in  Palestine.  Yet,  it  is  remarkable,  that,  as  if  for  the  express 
 purpose  of  overthrowing  this  cavil,  St.  Paul  re-states  this  com- 
 mand, as  incumbent  on  the  Christian  Church  in  all  ages ;  ex- 
 pressly adding,  for  its  increased  sanclion,  that  it  was  the  ^^  first 
 commandment  with  promise." 
 
CHAPTER    XXIX. 
 
 THE  MOSAIC  WORSHIP. 
 
 The  Mosaic  ordinances  for  the  dignity  of  the 
 Divine  worship,  were  on  the  stateliest  scale.  The 
 whole  tribe  of  Levi  was  appointed  to  the  especial 
 service  of  religion.  In  the  wilderness,  the  three 
 chief  Levite  families,  the  Kohathites,  the  Ger- 
 shonites,  and  the  Merarites,  encamped  on  three 
 sides  of  the  sanctuary ;  the  tents  of  Moses  and 
 Aaron  were  on  the  fourth.  In  the  days  of  the 
 Temple,  four  and  twenty  thousand  of  the  tribe 
 were  appointed  to  its  attendance ;  divided  into 
 four  and  twenty  courses,  of  a  thousand  for  each 
 week.  When  David  "made  Solomon  his  son 
 king  of  Israel,"  a  numbering  of  the  Levites  gave 
 38,000  for  the  entire  number  of  males  from  thirty 
 to  fifty  years  of  age  :  the  legal  period  of  service '. 
 
 '  Numb.  iv.  3.  The  age  in  the  general  instances  was  twenty- 
 five.  But  the  Kohathites,  who  carried  the  vessels,  &'c.  of  the  sanc- 
 tuary, must  be  thirty  years  old,  as  being  entrusted  with  a  more 
 responsible  duty.  Such  was  the  minute  and  accurate  care  ex- 
 hibited in  every  part  of  the  Divine  code.  The  numbering  by 
 David  began  with  thirty. 
 
 Bb 
 
370  THE    MOSAIC    WORSHIP. 
 
 The  remaining  14000  were  divided  into  three 
 classes  :  6000  officers  and  judges,  who,  in  their 
 districts,  interpreted  the  Law,  and  kept  those 
 public  records  and  genealogies,  so  important  to 
 all  the  operations  of  Jewish  public  life  ;  another 
 class  of  4000,  employed  as  attendants  at  the 
 gates,  and  general  guards  and  regulators  within 
 the  Temple  ;  and  a  third,  of  4000,  as  minstrels 
 and  singers.  But  no  Levite  was,  probably,  sub- 
 jected to  any  degrading  occupation.  The  menial 
 work,  the  hewing  of  wood  and  drawing  of  water, 
 was  done  by  the  Nethinims ;  a  race  descended  of 
 the  Gibeonites,  who  had  imposed  on  Joshua ;  and 
 some  remnant  of  the  Canaanite  prisoners  \ 
 
 That  fine  part  of  devotion  which  speaks  "  in 
 psalms  and  hymns,  and  spiritual  songs,"  and 
 which  is  so  feebly  sustained,  if  not  so  criminally 
 neglected,  in  the  service  of  later  times,  in  the 
 rude  discordancy  of  the  parish  church,  and  the 
 frigid  and  penurious  formality  of  the  cathedral ; 
 occupied  a  pre-eminent  place  in  the  service  of  the 
 Temple.  The  25th  chapter  of  the  1st  Book  of 
 Chronicles  gives  a  list  of  twenty-four  families, 
 amounting  to  288  persons,  expressly  appointed  to 
 instruct  the  choirs  and  lead  the  performances. 
 The  Psalms  of  David,  and  the  1500  Songs  of 
 Solomon,  attest  the  sacred  interest  with  which 
 the  most  gifted  of  the  national  sovereigns  culti- 
 vated this  admirable  source  of  elevation  of  heart. 
 
 '   1  Kinsjs  ix.  20,  21. 
 
THE    MOSAIC    WORSHIP.  371 
 
 The  multitude  and  perfection  of  its  minstrelsy 
 formed  the  prominent  human  distinction  of  the 
 Temple.  Paganism,  too,  had  its  pomps  ;  and 
 its  gods  were  hailed  with  flute  and  lyre.  But  the 
 world|never  heard  a  rival  to  the  burst  of  trans- 
 cendant  harmony,  that  rose  from  the  minstrels 
 of  the  Mountain  of  the  Lord — a  thunder  of  tri- 
 umphant adoration.  It  is  observable  that  this 
 superb  service  was  the  effect  of  neither  human 
 love  of  pomp,  nor  royal  gratitude  ;  it  was  enjoined 
 by  the  Divine  ordinance,  declared  "  by  Gad,  the 
 king's  seer,  and  Nathan  the  prophet ;  for  so  was  the 
 commandment  of  the  Lord,  by  his  prophets'." 
 
 The  Levites  had  not  received  any  portion  of 
 the  land,  in  the  general  division  of  Canaan.  In 
 place  of  this  natural  claim,  they  received  the 
 tenths  of  the  whole  produce  of  the  soil — corn, 
 fruits,  and  cattle.  Of  those  tenths,  they  again 
 gave  a  tenth  to  the  maintenance  of  the  priesthood, 
 also  Levites,  but  who  must  be  of  the  blood  of 
 Aaron.  In  addition  to  this  maintenance,  the 
 Levites  were  supplied  with  dwellings  :  forty-eight 
 cities,  variously  distributed  through  the  territory, 
 were  given  for  their  express  habitation  ;  with  su- 
 burbs and  gardens,  extending  to  a  thousand  cubits, 
 or  somewhat  more  than  1500  feet,  round  the  city 
 walls  ;  and  an  open  space  of  '2000  cubits  more,  for 
 fields,  and  devoted  to  recreation  and  pasturage.  Of 
 those  cities,  thirteen  belonged  to  the  priesthood. 
 
 '   2  Chron.  xxix.  25. 
 
 B  b  2 
 
372  THE    MOSAIC    WORSHIP. 
 
 The  High  Priest,  in  the  theocracy,  chiefly  held 
 the  sovereign  rank.  In  the  days  of  the  kings, 
 he  was  next  to  the  monarch ;  his  appointment 
 was  for  life,  and  it  gave  him  supreme  authority 
 in  all  things  belonging  to  religion'. 
 
 Thus  ample,  protected,  and  avowed,  v/as  the 
 provision  established  by  the  actual  personal  govern- 
 ment of  God  for  the  maintenance  of  his  know- 
 ledge and  worship  among  mankind.  Yet,  if  we 
 are  to  take  the  acts  of  the  Divine  Being  for  our 
 best  guidance  in  human  interests  ;  for  the  truest 
 conformity  to  the  nature  of  things  ;  for  the  most 
 direct  means  to  their  end  ;  or  even  for  the  simple 
 indications  of  the  Divine  will ; — we  must  find  the 
 most  formidable  difficulties  in  every  attempt  to  re- 
 concile human  interests  or  His  will  with  the  ideas 
 prevalent  in  later  times.  On  this  subject,  the 
 argument  is  not  with  those  who  are  equally  con- 
 temptuous of  the  authority  of  Scripture,  and  in- 
 different to  the  being  of  a  God.  But  to  all  who 
 are  capable  of  receiving  conviction,  the  Mosaic 
 
 '  The  High  Priest  must  be  of  the  line  of  Eleazer,  the  eldest 
 son  of  Aaron.  On  the  death  of  Eli,  the  succession  was  changed, 
 in  punishment  of  the  vices  of  his  descendants,  to  the  line  of 
 Thamar,  the  second  son  of  Aaron.  In  the  time  of  Solomon,  it 
 was  restored  to  the  elder  branch.  After  the  captivity,  the  Jews 
 saw  one  High  Priest  of  the  family  of  Eleazer,  and  but  one 
 — Joshua.  Evil  days  were  coming,  when  the  wliole  Jewish 
 polity  was  to  perish  ;  and  the  cessation  of  tlie  priesthood  in  the 
 elder  branch  of  Aaron  was  the  first,  and  tlu;  sure,  sign. 
 
THE    MOSAIC    WORSHIP.  373 
 
 ordinances  supply  that  conviction  with  the  fullest 
 authority. 
 
 If  it  be  said,  that  a  national  religion  is  incon- 
 sistent with  human  rights  or  Divine  justice, — We 
 see  in  Judaeism  a  national  religion,  appointed  by 
 the  express  command  of  the  Deity. 
 
 If,  that  an  establishment  is  the  worst  form  of  sus- 
 taining a  religion, — We  see  an  establishment  of  the 
 most  systematic  and  solid  order,  the  Divinely  ap- 
 pointed instrument  of  sustaining  a  religion. 
 
 If,  that  high  rank,  and  connexion  with  public 
 councils,  are  unsuitable  to  the  existence  and  du- 
 ties of  a  clergy, — We  see  the  High  Priest  fre- 
 quently appointed  even  as  the  virtual  sovereign, 
 in  the  purest  times  of  Judsea,  and  always  sustain- 
 ing a  distinguished  rank  in  the  government. 
 
 If,  that  a  Church  can,  consistently,  be  regarded 
 only  as  a  dependent  on  the  State,  and  be  sup- 
 ported only  by  a  public  salary,  or  the  contribu- 
 tions of  its  peculiar  worshippers, — We  see  the 
 Church  of  Judaea  living  on  its  original  property, 
 a  property  also  solemnly  fixed  by  law,  and  wholly 
 independent  of  the  fluctuating  liberality  of  either 
 the  state  or  the  people. 
 
 If,  that  all  distinctions  of  rank  in  a  clergy  are 
 mere  matters  of  vanity,  and  hazardous  to  its  cha- 
 racter,— We  see,  in  the  Jewish  Church  no  less 
 than  four  ranks,  kept  asunder  by  even  wider  dis- 
 tinctions than  any  that  have  followed  them  : — 
 The  High    Priest,  the   descendant  of  a  peculiar 
 
374  THE    MOSAIC    WORSHIP. 
 
 branch  of  a  peculiar  family  ;  the  Chief  Priest,  or 
 head  of  his  class ;  the  Priest ;  and  the  general 
 Levite  tribe,  also  a  sacred  order,  but  permanently 
 excluded  from  all  higher  offices;  the  posterity  of 
 Aaron  alone  being  capable  of  the  priesthood. 
 
 If,  that,  to  render  a  Church  virtuous,  the  only 
 expedient  is,  to  keep  it  poor, — We  see  the  endow- 
 ment of  the  Jewish  Church  of  a  very  ample  order. 
 To  the  tribe  of  Levi  was  allotted,  in  the  first  in- 
 stance, the  tenth  of  the  whole  produce  of  the  land. 
 And  this  amounted,  individually,  to  a  much 
 greater  portion  than  by  the  original  allotment  of 
 any  other  tribe  ;  from  both,  their  receiving  a  tenth 
 instead  of  a  twelfth,  and  their  being  one  of  the 
 smallest  of  the  tribes.  The  actual  priesthood 
 were  still  more  amply  provided  for.  Besides  the 
 tenth  of  the  whole  income  of  the  Levites,  they 
 received  the  first  fruits  of  the  harvest ;  the  first 
 clip  of  wool  in  the  sheep-shearing ;  a  portion  of 
 the  sin-offerings  and  peace-offerings  of  the  Temple ; 
 and  the  skin  of  every  animal  sacrificed  ;  which, 
 on  some  occasions,  amounted  to  a  great  number. 
 They  had  also  the  first-fruits  of  all  trees  ;  a  por- 
 tion of  the  spoil  made  in  war  ;  the  first-horn  of  all 
 clean  animals,  after  their  blood  was  poured  upon 
 the  altar ;  a  fine  on  the  first-horn  of  every  un- 
 clean animal  ;  and  five  shekels,  as  a  redemption 
 fine,  for  every  first-horn  child.  And  this  was 
 their  exclusive  property,  and  unconnected  with 
 any  expenditure  on   tlie  Temple,  its  services,  or 
 
THE    MOSAIC    WORSHIP.  375 
 
 support ;  provision  for  which  was  made  in  the 
 halt-shekel,  contributed  yearly  by  every  Jew,  from 
 twenty  years  upward. 
 
 The  evident  object  of  the  system  was,  to  fix,  as 
 a  principle,  the  maintenance  of  a  clergy,  in  that 
 state  of  sufficiency,  and  even  more  than  suffi- 
 ciency, which  would  relieve  them  from  every 
 feeling,  in  the  shape  of  anxiety  for  their  support ; 
 and  give  them  full  leisure  for  the  pursuit  of  study 
 however  absorbing,  laborious,  or  costly  ;  means  of 
 dispensing  the  charities,  decent  hospitalities,  and 
 active  kindnesses,  that  make  a  clergy  lights  and 
 helps  in  their  sphere ;  and  contributing  to  those 
 noble  institutes  and  monuments  of  national  piety,  in 
 which  the  opulence  and  genius  of  man  consecrate 
 themselves  to  the  honour  of  Heaven.  When  we 
 see  the  European  operation  of  this  principle,  even 
 encumbered  and  perverted  as  it  was  by  the  errors 
 native  to  monkish  times  ;  when  we  see  the  energy 
 with  which  it  broke  through  the  selfishness  of  the 
 cloister,  the  ignorance  of  darkened  ages,  and  the 
 barbarian  convulsions  of  government  and  society 
 where  all  was  the  dominion  of  the  sword  ;  the 
 majestic  architecture  which  it  spread  over  every 
 country  of  Europe,  the  boast  and  shame  of  later 
 days ;  the  vast  libraries  in  which  it  guarded  the 
 genius  of  the  dead  masters  of  the  intellectual 
 world  for  the  unborn  generations ;  the  treasure  of 
 antiquities,  gems,  medals,  manuscripts,  those  ac- 
 cumulated tests  and  evidences  of  wisdom,  learn- 
 
376  THE    MOSAIC    WORSHIP. 
 
 ing,  polity,  and  virtue,  of  which  the  world  outside 
 knew  no  more  than  of  the  dust  under  their  feet, 
 and  which  must  have  perished  but  for  the  magni- 
 ficent industry  of  this  explorer  of  the  grave  ; — 
 the  matchless  sculpture  and  painting,  of  which 
 it  created,  if  not  the  mind,  the  age ;  the 
 cathedral  music,  the  origin,  and  among  the 
 richest  productions,  of  that  art  which  at  once 
 solaces,  and  uplifts  the  heart  of  man,  the  noblest 
 auxiliary  to  the  oft'ering  of  the  spirit  to  heaven  ; — 
 the  still  more  hallowed  labours  of  religious  charity, 
 the  great  receptacles  for  the  poor,  the  hospitals, 
 their  houses  of  rest  and  reception  by  the  way  side 
 for  the  traveller,  in  the  disturbed  times  of  the 
 world  ;  the  missions  to  every  part  of  the  earth, 
 sustained  with  more  than  kingly  munificence,  and 
 almost  more  than  human  zeal,  perseverance,  and 
 intrepidity  ; — and  when  we  contrast  that  day  with 
 ours,  the  labours  of  the  day  of  generous  ignorance 
 with  the  labours  of  the  day  of  parsimony  and 
 illumination  ;  the  achievements  of  magnanimous 
 superstition  with  the  abortions  of  philosophy  ;  the 
 cathedral  with  the  conventicle ;  we  may  be  enti- 
 tled to  feel  some  doubt,  whether  the  opulence  of 
 a  national  Church  is  the  impoverishment  of  a 
 people — wliether  such  a  Church  would  not  be  the 
 safest,  purest,  and  most  effectual  source  through 
 which  civilization  could  be  poured  upon  a  people  ; 
 — or  whether  the  same  feeling  which  would  re- 
 duce a  Church  to  the  narrowest  limits  of  subsist- 
 
THE    MOSAIC    WORSHIP.  377 
 
 ence  would  not  be  jealous  of  the  tree  that 
 gathered  the  dew  on  its  branches  for  the  ground 
 beneath  ;  or  level  the  mountain  that  first  caught 
 the  glories  of  the  sunrise,  and  poured  down  the 
 stream,  pure  and  perpetual,  from  heaven. 
 
 To  the  habitual  declamatory  objections — that 
 tithe  is,  by  its  nature,  unfit  for  the  maintenance 
 of  a  clergy  ;  and  is,  above  all,  prejudicial  to 
 agriculture  ;  or  that,  to  compel  those  to  contri- 
 bute to  a  National  Church,  who  may  feel  indif- 
 ferent to  its  worship,  is  a  palpable  injustice  ;  the 
 Mosaic  ordinances  furnish  the  cogent  answer — that 
 tithe  was  the  original  measure,  and  continued  in- 
 strument, of  Jewish  Church  revenue  :  and  that  this 
 measure  was  appointed  in  a  country  the  most  ex- 
 clusively agricultural,  and  the  most  prosperously 
 cultivated,  ever  known.  As  to  tribute,  no  excep- 
 tion to  the  half-shekel  (even  in  its  obnoxious  shape 
 of  a  poll-tax)  was  receivable  from  any  Jew  of  the 
 legal  age,  on  any  ground,  and  more  especially  on 
 a  ground  so  certain  to  be  adopted  by  fraud,  indif- 
 ference, parsimony,  or  revolt,  as  a  doubt  of  the 
 fitness  of  the  Temple  for  a  place  of  worship,  or  of 
 the  fitness  of  having  any  religion  at  all. 
 
 The  question  is,  not  of  the  applicability  of  the 
 Mosaic  Church  laws  to  later  times,  but  of  their 
 natural  justice.  The  Church  of  England  derives 
 none  of  her  rights,  and  but  few  of  her  forms, 
 from  the  Church  of  Judaea  ;  but  her  principles 
 are  the  same.    While  the  principles  of  the  Esta- 
 
378  THE    MOSAIC    WORSHIP. 
 
 blisliment  are  impugned,  as  totally  irreconcileable 
 with  natural  rights,  offensive  to  enlightened  rea- 
 son, and  hostile  to  public  prosperity;  that  Esta- 
 blishment, perhaps  more  careless  of  the  result  for 
 herself,  than  for  her  country  ;  is  entitled  to  turn 
 to  the  highest  conceivable  authority,  and  point  to 
 her  principles,  one  by  one,  illustrated  in  the  na- 
 tional and  religious  code  written  by  the  finger, 
 not  of  man,  but  of  God  !  What  reply  can  the 
 honest  doubter  have,  but  to  throw  himself  on  his 
 knees,  and  thank  that  God  that  his  doubts  had 
 not  risen  into  the  impiety  of  action. 
 
 Those  rights  and  rules  were  the  express  ordi- 
 nances of  Him  who  knows  all  the  sources  of  public 
 vigour  ;  the  supreme  Master  of  all  the  instruments 
 of  individual  virtue ;  incapable  of  infringing  on 
 the  claim  of  any  of  his  creatures ;  and  whose  de- 
 clared purpose  it  was,  to  make  the  Jewish  nation 
 the  happiest,  the  purest,  the  wisest,  and,  as  the 
 sum  and  security  of  all,  the  most  religious,  people 
 of  mankind. 
 
 The  necessity  of  a  Religious  Establishment,  wherever  religion 
 is  to  be  sustained  in  its  highest  degree  of  vigour,  and  public  uti- 
 lity, is  a  matter  of  demonstration. 
 
 Religion,  of  all  the  gifts  of  God  to  man,  holds  the  first  place  ; 
 from  its  importance  to  society,  as  the  source  of  obedience,  and  to 
 the  individual,  as  the  only  solid  ground  of  happiness  on  earth, 
 and  hope  in  the  future  world. 
 
 But  religion  is  not  born  with  man  ;  it  is  not  an  instinct.  Nor 
 is  it  a  necessity  of  his  nature ;  it  is  not  an  appetite.  Man  is 
 not  urged  to  it,  as  to  food  :  it  must  therefore  be  brought  to  him. 
 
 1 
 
THE    MOSAIC    WORSHIP.  379 
 
 And  as  the  object  of  all  government  is  the  provision  of  good  for 
 the  nation  ;  the  especial  care  of  the  state  must  be  exercised  for 
 the  provision  of  the  greatest  good. — There  must  be  a  national 
 
 RELIGION. 
 
 But  the  teaching  of  this  religion  must  not  be  left  to  unfixed 
 and  irresponsible  individuals  ;  who  may  be  ignorant,  or  disloyal, 
 who  probably  will  be  insubordinate,  and  who,  having  no  assured 
 subsistence  by  their  office,  will  naturally  abandon  it  on  the  first 
 inducement  of  profit,  caprice,  or  indolence.  Its  teachers  must 
 therefore  be  settled,  responsible,  and  subordinate.  But  settle- 
 ment implies  a  regular  profession ;  responsibility,  known  rules ; 
 and  subordination,   a  distinction  of  ranks. — There  must  be  a 
 
 NATIONAL  CLERGY. 
 
 But  the  principles  of  the  religion  must  not  be  left  to  the  in- 
 novations of  individuals  ;  who  may  be  actuated  by  the  heated 
 passions,  temporary  views,  sectarian  jealousies,  or  hazardous 
 ambitions,  which  make  so  large  a  share  of  human  character. 
 They  must  be  gravely  formed,  authoritatively  delivered,  and 
 publicly  known. — There  must  be  a  national  liturgy. 
 
 But  the  personal  subsistence  of  the  Clergy  must  not  be  left 
 to  the  good-will  of  either  government  or  people.  In  the  former 
 instance,  the  first  state  emergency  extinguishes  the  Church  ;  in 
 the  latter,  the  Clergy  must  sink  from  canvassers  for  employment 
 into  mendicants  for  food.  The  living  generation  may  cling  to 
 their  duties  ;  but  no  man  will  educate  his  son  for  a  profession, 
 which  the  next  popular  breath  may  scatter  into  dust.  The  suc- 
 cession of  a  learned,  faithful,  and  manly  clergy,  will  be  totally 
 cut  oiF:  and  the  land  will  be  left  to  angry  intrigue  or  degraded 
 ignorance ;  to  popular  sycophants,  training  for  popular  fire- 
 brands ;  to  gloomy  infidelity,  and  domineering  sowers  of  sedi- 
 tion. England  has  already  laid  up  for  herself  a  formidable 
 treasure  of  experience.  If  she  uncover  the  grave  again,  what 
 can  she  see  there,  but  the  ashes  of  her  royalty  and  the  blood  of 
 her  people  ! — There  must  be  a  religious  establishment,  if 
 there  is  to  be  a  Constitution. 
 
CHAPTER   XXX. 
 
 MIRACLES. 
 
 Miracle  and  Prophecy  are  the  two  chief  testimo- 
 nials to  the  divine  origin  of  a  Revelation  ;  the  one 
 being  a  proof  that  supernatural  power  is  concerned 
 in  its  existence ;  the  other,  that  it  is  the  dictate 
 of  supernatural  wisdom.  The  Revelation  may 
 exist  without  either,  but  they  importantly  aid  its 
 progress.  They  are  the  wings,  that  at  once  attest 
 its  descent  from  a  higher  sphere,  and  bear  it  with 
 victorious  rapidity  through  the  world.  The  pecu- 
 liarity, abruptness,  and  force,  of  miracles,  have 
 made  our  Divines  generally  regard  them  as  soli- 
 tary interpositions  of  the  Deity.  It  is  more  pro- 
 bable that  they  have  a  system  ;  distinct,  of  course, 
 from  the  visible  order  of  nature,  but  possessing 
 principles  and  an  order  of  its  own.  One  strik- 
 ing feature  is,  their  constant  connection  with 
 Revelation,  and  the  extreme  infrequency  of  their 
 employment,  as  connected  with  any  other  work  of 
 Providence.  But,  with  Revelation  the  connection 
 is  so  strong,  that  it  actually  moulds  them  into  four 
 distinct  general  forms. 
 
MIRACLES.  381 
 
 In  the  patriarchal  ages  :  where  the  existence  of 
 God  was  the  chief  purpose  of  revelation,  miracles 
 were  few  ;  perhaps,  because  the  natural  evidences 
 were  many  ;  but  those  few  were  direct  displays  of 
 the  Divine  wrath  or  protection,  and  all  emanated 
 from  the  Deity  alone. 
 
 In  the  birth  of  Judaeism  :  where  the  purpose  of 
 Revelation  was  the  establishment  of  an  extensive 
 code,  the  erection  of  a  government,  and  the  gene- 
 ral formation  of  a  people ;  Miracle  assumed  a  new 
 shape,  of  proportionate  activity  and  magnitude. 
 It  was  no  longer  a  solitary  act,  or  an  act  of  Deity 
 alone  ;  it  was  an  instrument  given  to  the  hand  of 
 man,  and  co-extensive  with  every  necessity  of 
 human  government ;  it  was  the  guide  of  Israel  in 
 council,  his  leader  on  the  march,  his  champion  in 
 the  field  ;  it  spread  through  every  event,  and  met 
 every  exigency  ;  it  pronounced  law,  promised 
 reward,  and  inflicted  punishment.  Even  in 
 those  things  which  seem  to  be  most  peculiarly 
 within  the  province  of  human  exertion,  food  and 
 clothing,  Miracle  was  the  sole  agent.  Its  ancient 
 character  of  rareness,  abruptness,  and  solemnity, 
 was  totally  changed.  The  sustenance  of  the  Is- 
 raelites in  the  desert  was  a  daily  succession  of 
 miracles,  or  rather,  one  vast,  continuous  miracle 
 of  forty  years. 
 
 In  the  birth  of  Christianity  :  where  the  purpose 
 of  Revelation  was  the  establishment  of  the  mission 
 of  Christ,  Miracle  assumed   :i  new  form.      After  a 
 
382  MIRACLES. 
 
 cessation,  of  nearly  six  hundred  years,  it  appeared 
 in  the  person  of  an  individual ;  an  exclusive  pos- 
 session, but  of  the  most  extraordinary  extent  and 
 energy ;  not  delegated,  as  in  the  instance  of 
 Moses,  but  inherent ;  not  reserved  for  great  pub- 
 lic objects  alone,  but  capable  of  incessant  action, 
 and  employed  in  thousands  of  instances  of  the 
 most  simple  and  private  life  ;  altogether  exceed- 
 ing the  earlier  forms  of  miracle,  by  its  various 
 application  and  comprehensiveness  of  povi^er  ;  not 
 merely  commanding  the  elements,  healing  dis- 
 ease, and  reanimating  the  dead,  but  exceeding 
 those  works  of  Moses  and  the  prophets  by  influ- 
 ences of  which  they  appear  to  have  formed  no 
 conception,  the  control  of  the  human  heart  and  of 
 the  spiritual  world  ;  and  even  developing  the  attri- 
 bute which  is  held  to  belong  exclusively  to  Deity 
 — creation. 
 
 A  fourth  change  in  the  purpose  of  Revelation 
 was  to  come  ;  and  Miracle  will  be  seen  instantly 
 and  astonishingly  adapting  itself  to  the  change. 
 The  personal  mission  of  the  Messiah  had  been 
 established  ;  the  purpose  now  was  the  propagation 
 of  his  doctrines.  The  only  appeal  of  doctrine 
 must  be  to  the  heart  and  understanding  ;  but,  for 
 this,  the  mere  display  of  power,  as  chiefly  appeal- 
 ing to  the  senses,  would  be  an  inadequate  in- 
 strument. Miracle  accordingly,  now  laid  aside 
 almost  its  whole  display  of  power,  and  developed 
 itself  in  tlie  communication  of  gifts.     Its  agency' 
 
MIRACLES.  383 
 
 hitherto  had  been  chiefly  external :  Moses  smote 
 the  rock  ;  or  summoned  the  waves  to  roll  over  the 
 Egyptians  ;  Christ  commanded  the  tempest  to  be 
 calm ;  or  the  evil  spirit  to  come  forth.  But 
 Miracle  was  now  chiefly  internal;  an  action  on 
 the  individual,  giving  him  the  instant  power  of 
 speaking  and  interpreting  various  languages,  of 
 explaining  the  m^^steries  of  Scripture,  of  distin- 
 guishing the  fictitious  inspiration  from  the  true, 
 of  preaching  or  prophesying  with  peculiar  impres- 
 siveness  ;  and  all  those  extraordinary  qualities 
 generally  accompanied  with  the  not  less  extra- 
 ordinary change  of  the  habits  and  nature  of  the 
 mind — constitutional  timidity  suddenly  transmut- 
 ed into  inflexible  fortitude  ;  rashness  into  vigorous 
 prudence  ;  the  weakness  and  inaptitude  of  peasant 
 intelligence  into  fearless  dignity  ;  bitter  hatred 
 and  reckless  cruelty  into  the  habitual  softness  of 
 heart,  that  was  all  things  to  all  men  ;  bigotry  into 
 the  zeal  of  human  happiness,  that  laboured  for 
 the  love  of  human  kind  ;  unbelief  into  the  solemn 
 and  triumphant  faith  that  longed  only  to  spend 
 and  be  spent  for  the  honour  of  religion  ;  Paul  the 
 persecutor  changed  into  Paul  the  Apostle. 
 
 Those  views  are  important  to  higher  objects 
 than  curiosity  ;  for  an  agency  shown  to  be  at  once 
 thus  extensive  and  thus  plastic,  is  clearly  not  an 
 agency  within  the  competence  of  man.  A  single 
 wonder,  or  even  a  succession  of  wonders  of  the 
 same  order,  might,  by  possibility,  be  contrived  by 
 
384  MIRACLES. 
 
 human  skill  acting  on  an  age  of  ignorance  ;  but  a 
 succession  of  wonders,  acting  with  equally  fine 
 adaptation  on  the  age  of  ignorance,  of  partial 
 light,  and  of  general  illumination  ;  in  primitive 
 Palestine,  in  Egypt  in  the  days  of  the  Pharaohs, 
 and  in  Greece,  Italy,  and  Asia  Minor,  in  the  days 
 of  their  most  fastidious  refinement,  most  high- 
 toned  scepticism,  and  most  general  cultivation  of 
 philosophy,  is  an  instrument  altogether  above 
 the  tampering  of  man  ;  it  has  nothing  human  in 
 its  boundless  vigour  and  variety,  and  as  little 
 human  in  its  perfect  submissiveness  to  the  Divine 
 purpose.  If  it  consist  of  deviations  from  the 
 order  of  nature,  it  is,  like  the  deviations  of  the 
 planetary  system,  not  less  provided  for  by  the  laws 
 of  nature  ;  a  noble  anomaly,  which,  first  startling 
 our  ignorance,  finally  rewards  our  science  with  a 
 still  higher  insight  into  the  Divine  wisdom.  It 
 refers  to  Revelation,  as  the  order  of  nature  refers 
 to  natural  religion.  The  order  establishes  the 
 existence  of  a  God  ;  the  deviation  establishes  his 
 will ;  Miracle  is  the  m  (pvaiKa  of  Revelation. 
 
 Our  theologians,  in  general,  have  too  readily 
 satisfied  themselves  with  their  answers  to  Hume's 
 well-known  proposition,  that  "It  is  contrary  to 
 experience  that  miracle  should  be  true  ;  but  not 
 contrary  to  experience,  that  testimony  should  be 
 
MIRACLES.  385 
 
 false."  There  is  a  palpable  insufficiency  in  Paley's 
 answer,  "that  an  ambiguity  exists,   in  the  use  of 
 the  word  contrary.'"      And  that    "  the  narrative 
 of  a  fact  is  contrary  to  experience  only  when  the 
 fact  is  related  to  have  existed  at  a  time  and  place, 
 at  which  we,  being  present,  did  not  perceive  it  to 
 exist."     Hume  is  here  answered,  by  being  mis- 
 conceived.    His  meaning  is  not,  contrary  to  per- 
 sonal experience  of  a  particular  fact,  but  to  general 
 experience   of  the    course   of  nature.     Campbell 
 turns  to  the  latter  clause  of  the  proposition,  and 
 justly  insists  on  the  force  of  testimony.     But  he 
 falls   into   the   extraordinary    error,   that    "  testi- 
 mony has  a  natural  influence  on  belief,  antecedent 
 to  experience."     He  even  grounds  upon  this  prin- 
 ciple the  common  fact,  that  the  young  are  more 
 credulous  than  the  mature.     But  a  principle  of 
 this  unreasoning  order  would  be  an  instinct,  and  its 
 result  would  be  the  monstrous  paradox,  that  the 
 more  feeble  and  ignorant  the  mind,  the  more  firm 
 and  vigorous  the  faith.     Campbell's  misconcep- 
 tion arose  from  confounding  the  two  objects   of 
 experience,   persons,   and  things.     Our  belief  in 
 testimony  belongs,  not  to  things,  but  to  persons. — 
 We  have  experience  of  the  narrator  of  a  singular 
 fact ;    this  experience  has  satisfied  us   that  he  is 
 intelligent,  and  incapable  of  deception  ;  and  there- 
 fore we  receive  his  narrative  as  perfectly  true.  And 
 this  ground  of  belief  is  so  habitual,  that  the  man 
 may  be  considered  peculiarly  unfortunate  in  his 
 
 c  c 
 
386  MIRACLES. 
 
 intercourse  with  society,  who  does  not  know 
 several  individuals  on  whom  he  would  rely  as 
 much  as  on  the  testimony  of  his  own  senses. 
 There  are  individuals  whom  we  should  believe,  if 
 they  told  us  that  they  had  seen  an  angel  descend- 
 ing from  heaven,  or  a  demon  starting  up  out  of  the 
 earth.  The  incredulity  of  age  arises  also  from 
 experience  ;  it  has  been  oftener  deceived. 
 
 Hume's  actual  paralogism  lies  in  his  confound- 
 ing the  lowest  degree  of  testimony  with  the  highest, 
 and  drawing  his  conclusion  as  if  the  lowest  alone 
 existed.  "It  is  not  contrary  to  experience  that 
 testimony  should  be  false."  Doubtless,  it  is  not 
 contrary  to  experience,  that  common  rumour 
 should  be  false.  But  it  is  totally  contrary,  that 
 the  testimony  of  individuals  in  whom  we  have 
 experienced  the  most  unimpeachable  virtue,  ho- 
 nour, and  understanding,  should  be  any  thing  but 
 strictly  true.  Having  equally  clear  evidence  that 
 the  Evangelists  possessed  those  qualities  in  the 
 most  remarkable  degree  :  upon  that  evidence  we 
 are  fully  justified,  by  the  common  principles  of 
 human  conduct,  in  receiving  their  statements  of 
 the  miracles  as  facts  beyond  all  question.  The  truth 
 is,  that  if  we  were  to  be  solely  dependent  on  the 
 evidence  of  our  own  senses,  society  could  not  go 
 on  for  a  day.  Testimony  is  the  Divine  expedient 
 for  extending  the  narrowness  of  individual  observa- 
 tion, by  adding  to  it  the  observation  of  all.  It  is 
 the  addition  of  the  senses  of  other   men  to  our 
 
 7 
 
MIRACLES.  387 
 
 own  ;  and,  in  its  higher  states,  with  an  authority 
 practically  equal  to  that  of  our  own.  On  testi- 
 mony we  continually  repose  for  the  most  important 
 concerns  of  our  lives. 
 
 Still,  the  force  of  testimony,  though  obviously 
 unresisted  and  irresistible  in  actual  life,  does  not 
 seem  to  be  sufficiently  impressed  on  our  later 
 theologians.  Thus  we  find  it  declared  {Hulsean 
 Lectures)  that  no  possible  force  of  testimony  can 
 establish  the  fact  of  a  miracle  by  an  evil  spirit. 
 Yet,  why  not  ?  unless  it  be  an  impossibility.  But 
 where  is  the  impossibility  ?  When  our  Lord  is 
 reproached  with  casting  out  devils  through  Beel- 
 zebub, he  does  not  repel  the  charge  by  asserting 
 the  hnpossihillty ^  which  would  be  the  most  direct 
 of  all  answers.  He  replies  by  asking,  whether 
 the  evil  spirit  would  work  miracles  to  defeat 
 himself  ? 
 
 When  the  demons  took  possession  of  the  human 
 body,  was  not  this  a  contradiction  of  the  course  of 
 nature,  a  miracle  ?  When  they  passed  from  the 
 human  body  into  the  brute,  was  not  this  a  miracle, 
 though  only  by  sufferance  ?  When  Satan  bore  our 
 Lord  from  the  desert,  and  placed  him  on  the  pin- 
 nacle of  the  temple ',  was  not  this  a  miracle,  which, 
 
 '  It  has  been  said,  that  the  view  of  the  kingdoms  of  the 
 world,  given  by  Satan  from  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple,  was  not 
 a  miracle,  because  the  oikov^ivt)  may  mean  only  Palestine,  and 
 thus  he  showed  only  "  the  four  Tetrarchies."     But,  besides  the 
 
 c  c  2 
 
388  MIRACLES. 
 
 whether  the  purpose  or  the  person  is  considered, 
 exhibited  the  most  extraordinary  degree  of  power  ? 
 Thus,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  evil  spirit 
 has  worked  miracles.  The  only  limit  that  we  can 
 be  authorized  from  Scripture  in  assigning  to  them, 
 is,  that  they  cannot  be  wrought  but  by  Divine 
 sufferance,  and  that  they  cannot  be  wrought  but 
 with  an  intention  of  evil  \ 
 
 fantasy  of  this  circumscription  of  the  power  of  a  heing  who  is  de- 
 clared to  be  the  "  God  of  this  world,"  and  who  was  then  using 
 "  the  glory  of  all  his  kingdoms"  as  a  temptation  ;  what  human 
 eye  could  see  the  extent,  even  of  Palestine,  from  the  temple, 
 without  a  miracle  ?  The  question  of  more  or  less,  in  works 
 palpablyabove  man,  is  inadmissible. 
 
 ^  Douglas,  Criterion.  Campbell,  Dissertation.  Paley's  Evi- 
 dences. Profess.  Vince,  Sermon  on  Credibility,  &c.  &c.  Bp. 
 Gleig,  Notes  to  Stackhouse ;  his  observations,  however,  chiefly 
 refer  to  miracles  wTought  by  the  application  of  natural  materials, 
 of  which  we  have  scarcely  an  instance,  except,  perhaps,  in  the 
 cure  of  Hezekiah.  The  toucliing  of  the  blind  man's  eyes  with 
 clay,  was  evidently  a  mere  form. 
 
CHAPTER   XXXI. 
 
 THE  EGYPTIAN  ENCHANTERS. 
 
 The  curious  question,  whether  Pharaoh's  magi- 
 cians worked  real  miracles ;  a  question  as  old  as 
 Justin  Martyr,  if  not  as  old  as  controversy  itself, 
 is  still  the  subject  of  dispute.  Farmer  ^  holds,  and 
 justly,  that  their  arts  were  merely  human.  But  his 
 argument  against  their  being  devices  of  the  evil 
 spirit,  that  there  is  no  reason  why  Satan  should 
 have  stopped  at  the  third  plague,  more  than  at  the 
 first,  is  palpably  insufficient ;  for,  as  all  the 
 power  of  the  evil  spirit  must  be  permissive,  it 
 might  have  been  the  Divine  will  to  interfere  at 
 that  point.  The  majority  of  Divines  also  hold 
 that  the  enchantments  were  matters  of  human 
 dexterity ;  but,  on  the  principle,  that  the  evil 
 spirit  cannot  work  miracles  ;  a  principle  palpably 
 contradicted  (as  has  been  already  observed,)  in 
 the  instance   of  the  demoniacs,   the   temptation, 
 
 '  Dissertation  on  Miracles.     Sect.  1. 
 
390        THE  EGYPTIAN  ENCHANTERS. 
 
 and  the  Pythoness,  from  whom  the  prophetic  spirit 
 was  expelled  by  the  Apostle  '. 
 
 But,  the  secure  answer  is  to  be  found  only  in 
 an  authority,  not  always  remembered  in  the  war 
 of  argument,  the  plain  narrative.  Moses  comes  to 
 Pharaoh,  declaring  himself  the  bearer  of  the 
 command  of  "Jehovah,  God  of  Israel,"  that  he 
 should  "  let  his  people  go."  No  man  in  his  senses 
 would  stand  uponhisowndetermination,  against  the 
 declared  command  of  a  God  ;  especially  in  Egypt, 
 where  superstition  had  arrived  at  its  height. 
 Pharaoh,  therefore,  does  not  deny  the  fitness  of 
 obedience  to  a  command  of  Deity,  but  he  denies 
 the  existence  of  "  Jehovah,"  (the  sacred  name, 
 which  was,  probably,  not  known  beyond  the 
 Israelite  border.)  "And  Pharaoh  said,  who  is 
 Jehovah  ?  that  I  should  obey  his  voice.  I  know 
 not  Jehovah,  neither  will  I  let  Israel  go."  Moses 
 then  declares  the  more  usual  name,  "  the  God  of 
 the  Hebrews."  But  the  result  of  the  demand 
 once  repelled,  is  only  the  immediate  adoption  of 
 severer  measures  towards  the  Israelites. 
 
 After  an  interval  of  national  suffering,  Moses 
 and  Aaron  are  sent  to  repeat  the  command.  The 
 king  now,  without  questioning  the  name  of  their 
 God,  fixes  his  refusal  upon  their  want  of  authority 
 to  ai-k  in  that  name,  and  requires  a  miracle  as  the 
 evidence.     A  miracle  is  wrought ;  Aaron  throws 
 
 '  Acts  xvi.  16. 
 
THE    EGYPTIAN    ENCHANTERS.  391 
 
 down  his  staff,  and  it  becomes  a  serpent.  Still 
 the  king  refuses,  and  attempts  to  justify  his  refu- 
 sal, on  the  plea,  that  the  act  does  not  necessarily 
 prove  a  Divine  interposition.  And  to  show  that 
 it  may  be  the  work  of  mere  man,  he  summons  his 
 magicians  ;  who  effect  a  work,  which  to  all  appear- 
 ance, is  the  same.  Aaron's  serpent  then  swallows 
 up  all  the  others.  Still,  to  a  strongly  prejudiced 
 mind,  this  might  exhibit  but  a  more  powerful 
 mastery  of  the  science  of  enchantments. 
 
 The  first  miracle  has  been  one  of  mere  power, 
 unconnected  with  suffering.  But  its  denial  is 
 followed  by  one  connected  with  suffering.  The 
 waters  of  the  Nile  are  turned  into  blood.  Still, 
 Pharaoh  denies  the  sufficiency  of  the  evidence,  as 
 the  work  of  a  God  ;  for  his  magicians  effect  appa- 
 rently the  same  miracle,  if  on  a  much  more  incom- 
 plete and  diminished  scale.  The  trial  thus  goes 
 no  further  than  the  acknowledgment,  that  Moses 
 is  the  superior  magician ;  and  Pharaoh  still  jus- 
 tifies himself  in  his  refusal.  The  plague  of  frogs 
 follows.  It  is  met  in  the  same  way ;  the  magi- 
 cians show,  that  something  like  it  may  be  pro- 
 duced by  human  means.  But  the  disgust  of  this 
 plague  is  so  strong,  that  Pharaoh,  willing  to  con- 
 cede any  terms,  offers  to  let  the  Israelites  go,  if 
 Moses  will  entreat  his  Lord  to  take  away  this 
 sickening  and  repulsive  visitation. 
 
 But  the  king's  doubt  of  his  credentials  is  to 
 have  no  further  plausibility.     The  plague  of  lice, 
 
392        THE  EGYPTIAN  ENCHANTERS. 
 
 or  insects,  comes.  This  is  an  act  of  Creation. 
 The  magicians  renew  their  attempts  ;  fail  altoge- 
 ther ;  and  then  make  the  final  acknowledgment, 
 that  it  is  no  longer  a  question  of  human  skill  on 
 either  side ;  that  this  can  be  only  the  work  of 
 Deity.  Pharaoh,  thus  stripped  of  all  plea,  now 
 fiercely  entrenches  himself  in  stubbornness  of 
 heart ;  and  the  heavier  visitations  are  let  loose 
 against  him  and  his  people. 
 
 The  minute  consistency  of  the  narrative  is, 
 throughout,  admirable.  In  the  first  instance  of 
 the  appeal,  the  evidence  of  power  is  perfectly 
 harmless.  In  the  second,  this  evidence  is  of  a 
 severer  nature, — the  pollution  of  the  river  and 
 fountains  of  the  land.  Yet,  as  its  immediate 
 pressure  is  obviated  by  the  expedient  of  digging 
 wells,  the  king's  obstinacy  remains  untouched. 
 In  the  third  plague,  the  disgust  and  abhorrence 
 reject  delay ;  and,  as  no  expedient  against  it  can 
 be  found,  Pharaoh  stoops  at  once  to  the  acknow- 
 ledgment of  the  Divine  commission,  and  the  con- 
 cession of  Israelite  freedom.  The  third  plague 
 has  left  him  without  even  the  feeble  pleas  which 
 sheltered  him,  in  the  former  instances,  from 
 the  direct  charge  of  acting  irrationally  and  im- 
 piously. He,  thenceforth,  perseveres,  in  scorn  of 
 all  pretext ;  and,  thenceforth,  the  more  tremen- 
 dous punishments,  the  real  agonies  of  sense  and 
 soul,  begin. 
 
 But  the  whole  tenor  of  the  narrative  distinctly 
 
THE    EGYPTIAN    ENCHANTERS.  393 
 
 argues,  that  the  magicians  relied  entirely  on 
 human  skill  or  science.  It  is  observable  that 
 they  act  only  on  materials  already  before  them, — 
 the  water  and  the  frogs  \  At  the  third  plague,  a 
 Avork  implying  direct  Creation,  they  relinquish 
 the  attempt  in  despair,  as  totally  beyond  human 
 powers.  From  the  beginning,  they  are  so  far 
 from  claiming  any  higher  origin  of  their  own 
 performances,  that  their  attempt  to  rival  those 
 of  Moses  is,  for  the  express  purpose  of  showing 
 that  they  do  not  exceed  the  faculties  of  mere 
 man  ;  and,  in  consequence,  have  no  right  to  be 
 assumed  as  credentials  of  the  Deity. 
 
 Yet  the  name  of  "  jugglery  and  sleight  of 
 hand,"  usually  given  to  those  Egyptian  "  en- 
 chantments," is  inapplicable.  Mere  dexterity  of 
 hand  would  be  too  contemptible  and  common- 
 place a  foundation,  for  the  high  authority  which 
 the  Magus  exercised  in  Egypt  and  all  the  Asiatic 
 kingdoms.  He  was  the  master  of  all  that  was 
 known  of  the  secrets  of  nature  in  his  time, — its 
 
 '  The  change  of  their  rods  into  serpents,  or  rather,  of  ser- 
 pents into  their  rods,  was  a  common  trick  of  Eastern  ingenuity  ; 
 so  common,  that  we  can  scarcely  conceive  the  "  wise  men," — 
 the  royal  soothsayers  and  diviners — to  have  condescended  to 
 exhibit  it,  except  that  Aaron  had  set  the  example,  and  that  they 
 were  desirous  of  showing  how  vulgar  were  his  pretensions  to 
 miracle.  The  arts  of  the  serpent-tamers,  who  seem  to  have 
 been  the  lowest  tribe  of  jugglers,  are  commemorated  by  Hero- 
 dotus, Euterpe.  Bochart,  Hieroz.,  &c.  &c. 
 
3^4  THE    EGYPTIAN    ENCHANTERS. 
 
 rude  astronomy,  mineralogy,  and  chemistry  ;  per- 
 haps, too,  acquainted  with  some  vast  and  vivid 
 uses  of  natural  materials,  which  have  escaped 
 posterity ;  the  healer  of  disease  ;  the  interpreter 
 of  those  moody  and  significant  dreams  which,  in 
 the  convulsed  monarchies  of  the  East,  must  have 
 so  often  sat  upon  the  pillows  of  chieftains  and 
 kings  ;  the  calculator  of  those  signs  and  wonders 
 in  the  stars,  which  were  once  so  solemnly  be- 
 lieved, and  on  which,  even  to  this  hour,  we  can 
 scarcely  look,  without  some  conviction,  like  the 
 Chaldeean  of  old,  that  we  see  the  living  characters 
 of  Providence,  the  fiery  letters  written  by  the 
 finger  of  God,  to  tell  nations  that  they  are 
 "  weighed,  measured,  and  undone." 
 
CHAPTER  XXXII. 
 
 THE  MOSAIC  MIRACLES. 
 
 The  evidence  of  Miracle  is  the  evidence  of  the 
 senses,  ascertaining  a  supernatural  disturbance 
 of  the   order  of  nature  \     The  evidence   that  a 
 
 '  On  this  ground  Tillotson  raises  his  argument  against  tran- 
 substantiation :  *'  For  want  of  the  evidence  of  our  senses, 
 transubstantiation  is  no  miracle  :  a  sign  or  miracle  is  always  a 
 thing  sensible  ;  otherwise  it  could  be  no  sign.  Now,  that  such 
 a  change,  as  is  pretended  in  this  thing,  should  really  be  wrought, 
 and  yet  there  should  be  no  sign  of  it,  is  very  wonderful ;  but 
 not  to  sense,  for  our  senses  perceive  no  change.  And  that  a 
 thing  should  remain,  to  all  appearance,  just  as  it  was,  hath  no- 
 thing at  all  of  wonder  in  it.  We  wonder,  indeed,  when  we  see  a 
 strange  thing  done ;  but  no  man  wonders  when  he  sees  nothing 
 done." — Sermons,  vol.  ii. 
 
 This  is  altogether  unanswerable.  But  the  argument  would 
 be  not  the  less  forcible  for  being  more  succinct. — As  we  discover 
 the  order  of  nature  only  by  our  senses,  so  we  can  discover  the 
 disturbance  of  that  order  only  by  our  senses.  Miracle  is  the 
 disturbance  of  that  order.  Therefore,  miracle  must  be  obvious 
 to  our  senses,  or  it  has  no  existence  :  it  is  a  disturbance  which 
 disturbs  nothing. 
 
 Therefore,  transubstantiation,  which,  to  the  senses,  leaves  all 
 things  as  it  found  them ;   while  it  professes  to  be  the  greatest  of 
 
39G  THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES. 
 
 miracle  comes  from  God,  or  his  instruments,  de- 
 pends upon  the  connexion  of  the  act  with  palpable 
 goodness  of  purpose,  or  purity  of  doctrine ;  and 
 this  proof  rises  with  every  addition  of  copiousness 
 in  the  use  of  power,  of  novelty  of  resource,  variety 
 of  purpose,  and  completeness  of  execution'. 
 
 All  those  characteristics  are  combined  in  the 
 chief  Mosaic  miracles.  If  a  traveller,  who  had 
 passed  through  Egypt  a  year  before  the  Exodus, 
 chanced  to  traverse  the  foot  of  Horeb  a  year  after  ; 
 what  must  be  his  natural  impression,  on  seeing 
 the  Desert,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  covered 
 with  the  tents  of  Israel ;  their  temple  erected  in 
 the  midst  of  the  tribes  ;  their  altar  smoking  up 
 to  heaven  ;  their  priesthood,  their  princes,  their 
 magistrates,  performing  their  several  functions 
 undisturbed  :  the  whole  wearing  the  calm  and 
 regular  aspect  of  a  vast  free  community,  prosper- 
 ing without  the  fear  of  man.  On  what  human 
 principle  could  he  account  for  the  change  ?  He 
 had  seen  them  in  a  state  of  the  most  abject  bond- 
 age. The  character  of  Pharaoh  rendered  it  im- 
 possible to  believe  that  he  would  have  remitted 
 
 miracles,  perpetual  and  universal,  is  no  miracle  at  all ;  and  if  no 
 miracle,  is  nothing. 
 
 ^  Leslie's  "  P'our  Rules"  ("  Short  Method  with  the  Deists,") 
 relate  chiefly  to  the  general  facts  of  Scripture.  As  applied  to 
 miracles,  they  are  narrow :  referring  only  to  those  miracles 
 which  have  been  commemorated  by  public  ceremonials, — the 
 Passover,  Pentecost,  &c. 
 
THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES.  397 
 
 their  bondage  on  the  ground  of  justice.  They 
 were  slaves ;  and  neither  king  nor  nation  could 
 be  supposed  to  have  given  up  a  property  of  this 
 order  spontaneously.  Their  liberation  could  not 
 have  been  the  work  of  force ;  for  what  could 
 an  unarmed  multitude,  three-fourths  of  whom 
 were  women,  infants,  and  old  men,  effect  ao-ainst 
 one  of  the  most  opulent  and  martial  kingdoms  of 
 the  earth  ?  It  could  not  have  been  by  purchase  ; 
 for  their  only  wealth  was  their  cattle,  and  those 
 they  had  brought  with  them.  Human  means 
 being  thus  inadequate,  he  would  be  driven  to 
 the  necessity  of  Divine. 
 
 The  supernatural  origin  of  the  plagues  has  been 
 already  argued,  from  the  exactness  and  variety  of 
 their  application.  The  people  of  Egypt  were  pro- 
 bably offenders  in  a  much  lower  degree  than  their 
 monarch  ;  as  we  may  learn  from  the  reluctance  of 
 the  Egyptian  midwives  to  execute  the  merciless 
 decree  for  the  death  of  the  Hebrew  infants.  We 
 accordingly  find  the  distinction  recognized  in  the 
 very  outpouring  of  wrath.  All  was  popular  ter- 
 ror ;  little  was  popular  injury. 
 
 But  a  judgment  remained,  essential  to  the 
 security  of  Israel.  Egypt  had  been  awed  for 
 the  time,  but  not  broken.  The  natural  course 
 of  human  cupidity  would  soon  lead  her  to  regret 
 the  surrender  of  so  large  a  servile  population.  Her 
 furious  king,  whom  the  immediate  torments  of  the 
 plagues  had  been  scarcely  able  to  restrain,  from 
 
398  THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES. 
 
 hour  to  hour,  would  soon  forget  his  fears,  and 
 think  only  of  his  revenge.  Tlie  wealth  which  the 
 departing  Israelites  had  wrung  from  the  people, 
 would  be  a  national  stimulant ;  and,  from  a  con- 
 currence of  those  motives,  Israel  would  probably 
 have  soon  seen  the  Egyptian  banners  waving 
 against  her  in  the  Desert.  Where  the  lingering 
 and  encumbered  millions  of  Israel  could  march, 
 the  Egyptian  cavalry  and  chariots  could  follow ; 
 at  least,  so  far  as  they  were  provisioned  :  and  this 
 might  extend  the  pursuit  over  the  wilderness ; 
 for  even  the  Israelites  had  been  able  to  carry  with 
 them  provisions  for  two  months.  And  this  hos- 
 tility would  have  been  rendered  still  more  hazard- 
 ous by  the  circumstances  of  the  people.  It  was 
 the  Divine  will  that  they  should  remain  at  Ho- 
 reb,  until  the  Law  was  given,  and  their  general 
 polity  established.  They  were  thus  to  be  de- 
 tained a  year,  almost  within  sight  of  Egypt ;  and 
 an  attack  by  an  Egyptian  army,  during  their 
 disjointed  and  undisciplined  state,  seconded  by 
 the  discontents,  weariness,  and  Egyptian  recol- 
 lections of  the  people,  miglit  have  been  fatal. 
 
 Nor  are  we  to  suppose  such  a  contingency  too 
 unimportant  for  the  Divine  care ;  when  we  see 
 the  original  march  to  Canaan  turned  from  the 
 direct  road,  for  the  express  reason  of  avoiding  a 
 too  sudden  collision  with  the  Philistine  kingdoms. 
 Miracle  is  never  wasted.  The  irreoular  and 
 mixed  multitude  of  the  Israelites  would,    natu- 
 
THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES.  399 
 
 rally,  have  been  broken  by  the  armed  force  of 
 Canaan.  This  result  was  to  be  obviated  only  by 
 marching  into  the  Desert :  and  it  was  not  until 
 after  a  year  of  discipline,  that  they  were  hazarded 
 on  the  borders  of  the  promised  land. 
 
 But  the  Divine  means  are  conspicuous  for 
 variety.  The  deliverance  from  the  Egyptian  yoke 
 had  been  effected  by  a  long  and  strikingly  gi^aduated 
 course  of  Divine  interposition.  The  security  from 
 the  recurrence  of  bondage  was  to  be  the  work  of  a 
 single,  stupendous  miracle. 
 
 The  passage  of  the  Red  Sea  has  been  affectedly 
 and  culpably  diluted  by  foreign  scepticism,  into 
 an  incident  so  trivial  as  the  passage  of  an  estuary 
 at  a  low  tide.  But  no  astonishment  can  be  too 
 great,  as  no  scorn  can  be  too  contemptuous,  for  the 
 wilful  disregard  of  facts,  probabilities,  and  sound 
 reasoning,  in  which  Infidelity  wraps  and  fetters  the 
 understanding.  With  those  reasoners,  the  primary 
 object  of  the  whole  interposition  is,  the  convey- 
 ance of  the  Israelites  from  the  pursuit  of  their 
 enemy.  But  this  is  an  obvious  error.  The 
 primary  object  was,  to  work  a  final  conviction 
 on  the  mind  of  Egypt,  that  Jehovah  was  irre- 
 sistible— a  conviction  necessarily  tending  to  the 
 abandonment  of  all  attempts  against  the  people 
 under  his  protection.  "  I  will  be  honoured  upon 
 Pharaoh  and  all  his  host :  that  the  Egyptians  may 
 know  that  I  am  the  Lord^J"     This  is  the  original 
 
 o 
 '  Exodus  xiv.  14. 
 
400  THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES. 
 
 and  leading  declaration  of  the  Divine  purpose. 
 The  actual  passage  of  the  sea  is  but  a  single 
 feature  of  an  extended  plan ;  a  separate  miracle, 
 crowning  a  design,  whose  conduct,  skill,  com- 
 prehensiveness of  object,  and  variety  of  means, 
 place  it  entirely  beyond  the  invention  of  man. 
 We  are  not  left  to  the  naked  statement  of  the 
 historian,  that  a  miracle  was  wrought.  The 
 whole  extent  of  the  transaction  exhibits  a  cha- 
 racter, which  alone  belongs  to  the  wisdom  of 
 Heaven. 
 
 Throwing  it  into  the  form  of  a  mere  question 
 of  human  sagacity  ;  What  were  the  requisitions 
 of  the  problem  ?  By  a  single  act — To  disable 
 Egypt  from  all  further  aggression — To  mark  the 
 king  by  a  peculiar  vengeance — To  inflict  this 
 vengeance  by  means  totally  distinct  from  the 
 plagues,  and  equally  distinct  from  the  ordinary 
 agents  of  Providence  in  punishing  the  crimes  of 
 kings  and  people  ;  war,  pestilence,  and  famine — 
 To  render  this  punishment  an  unequivocal  dis- 
 play of  the  arm  of  Heaven — To  give  the  Israel- 
 ites all  the  advantages  of  consummate  triumph, 
 without  the  slightest  injury  or  the  slightest  ex- 
 ertion— Even  to  turn  their  loss  of  time,  and  their 
 wandering,  into  the  more  rapid  and  direct  means 
 of  reaching  their  point  of  march — The  whole, 
 transmuting  discontent  and  despair  into  increased 
 reliance  on  the  leader,  and  increased  homage  to 
 the  God,  of  Israel. 
 
THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES.  401 
 
 Those  were  the  actual  requisitions — for  each 
 and  all  those  were  accomplished.  There  could 
 be  few  more  salutary  lessons  for  the  sceptic,  than 
 to  task  his  sagacity  for  the  human  means,  by  which 
 such  requisitions  could  be  satisfied.  When  he  ex- 
 perimentally finds  the  barrenness,  the  conflicting 
 follies,  and  the  helpless  results,  of  human  contriv- 
 ance, he  may  at  length  learn  to  humble  himself 
 before  the  sublime  efficiency  of  inspiration. 
 
 Like  all  the  statements  of  Scripture,  the  whole 
 narrative  forms  a  remarkably  plain  and  natural  ex- 
 hibition of  the  employ  of  human  motives,  serving 
 a  purpose  altogether  above  man. 
 
 The  tribes  of  Israel  had  marched  from  Egypt 
 in  open  triumph.     They  had  not  even  taken  ad- 
 vantage of  the  national  terror  on  the  night  of  the 
 Passover  ;   but  had  expressly  waited  for  the  day ; 
 and  then,  in  the  face  of  the  country,    come  forth, 
 "  with  a  high  hand."     The  Egyptians  and  their 
 king  were  left  stricken  and  motionless  through  fear. 
 The  Israelites   had  come  forth,  bearing  the  bones 
 of  Joseph ;     thus   spurning   all    connexion    with 
 their  old  task-masters,  and  in  full  assurance  that 
 they  were  marching  to  the  possession  of  Canaan. 
 Their  march  had  been  directed  to  the  head  of 
 the  Red  Sea,    by   which   they  were  to  pass  into 
 the  Wilderness. 
 
 But  the  sudden  tidings  were  brought  to  the 
 king,  that,  instead  of  following  this  open  route, 
 they  had  turned  on  their  steps,   left  Canaan  be- 
 
 Dd 
 
402  THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES. 
 
 hind,  and  were  now  hurrying,  in  the  confusion 
 of  flight  \  down  the  shore  to  the  south,  by  a 
 route  which  could  lead  them  only  into  the  heart  of 
 Africa ;  and  even  that  they  had  already  entan- 
 gled themselves  in  defiles  where,  if  pursued,  they 
 could  neither  fight  nor  fly  ^  What  could  be  the 
 natural  impression  on  the  mind  of  any  man,  but 
 that  this  unaccountable  and  frantic  movement  ar- 
 gued some  ruinous  change  in  the  condition  of  the 
 multitude,  either  revolt  from  their  leader,  or  de- 
 sertion by  their  God  ?  The  king  felt  that  in 
 either  case  they  were  in  his  power.  The  concep- 
 tion of  all  around  him  was  like  his  own,  that  the 
 
 '  On  TTE^Evye  o  Xaog.      (Septuag.) 
 
 ^  The  spot  at  which  the  passage  was  effected,  is  still  a  sub- 
 ject of  some  controversy.  That  learned  and  intelligent  traveller, 
 Shaw,  observes,  that  there  are  two  roads  by  which  the  people 
 might  have  reached  Pi-hahiroth :  the  one  through  the  valley 
 of  Jendily,  &c.  bounded  by  the  hiUs  of  the  Lower  Thebais  ;  the 
 other  to  the  northward,  with  those  mountains  on  the  right,  and 
 the  Desert  on  the  left,  till  it  turns  through  a  remarkable  ravine 
 into  the  valley  of  Baideah.  Here  the  Israelites  were  ordered  to 
 encamp,  in  the  mouth  of  the  defile,  between  Migdol  and  the 
 Sea.  The  name  Baideah  signifies  miraculous  ;  and  it  also  bears 
 the  more  peculiar  name  of  Tiah  Bent  Israel,  the  road  of  the 
 children  of  Israel.  A  mountain  near  the  spot  is  still  called 
 Jehel  Attakah,  the  mountain  of  deliverance  ;  and  on  the  oppo- 
 site side  lies  Shur,  the  Desert  where  the  Israelites  are  supposed 
 to  have  first  reached  the  land.  The  passage  there  is  ten  miles. 
 Niebuhr  and  Burckhardt,  on  the  contrary,  conceive  it  to  have 
 been  made  near  Suez,  once  called  El  Kolsum,  where  the  dis- 
 tance is  but  three. 
 
THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES.  403 
 
 period  had  arrived  for  making  a  general  recapture 
 of  the  Israelite  slaves.  The  heart  of  Pharaoh's 
 courtiers  and  councillors  "  was  turned  against  the 
 people,  and  they  said,  '  Why  have  we  done  this, 
 that  we  have  let  Israel  go  from  serving  us?'" 
 Relieved  of  the  pressure  of  their  fears,  their  native 
 cruelty  and  rapine  had  sprung  up  with  renewed 
 vigour.  The  royal  compact  and  the  national  suf- 
 ferings were  equally  forgotten  in  the  new  hope  of 
 seizing,  or  slaying,  the  Israelites  in  their  first  per- 
 plexity :  and  the  monarch  and  his  troops  pursued 
 the  fugitives  without  delay. 
 
 But  all  was  by  the  declared  agency  of  Heaven. 
 The  change  of  march  had  been  made  with  the 
 express  object  of  converting  the  unextinguished 
 passions  of  the  king  into  their  own  punishment. 
 "  Speak  to  the  children  of  Israel,"  was  the  lan- 
 guage of  Jehovah  to  Moses,  "  that  they  shall  turn 
 and  encamp  before  Pi-hahiroth. — For  Pharaoh  will 
 say  of  the  children  of  Israel,  they  are  entangled  in 
 the  land,  the  wilderness  hath  shut  them  in." 
 
 The  punishment  of  Pharaoh  and  his  army,  the 
 chief  agents  in  the  cruelties  exercised  on  Israel, 
 was  essential :  as  vindicating  the  Divine  abhor- 
 rence of  a  murderer,  and  the  instruments  of  his 
 crimes ;  and  perhaps  highly  important,  as  a  secu- 
 rity for  the  future  peace  of  the  chosen  people. 
 The  sudden  prospect  of  trampling  on  them  with 
 impunity  could  alone  have  stimulated  the  scourg- 
 ed and   trembling  tyranny  of  Egypt  to  provoke 
 
 Dd  2 
 
404  THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES. 
 
 war  with  the  nation  led  by  Moses,  and  protected 
 by  Heaven.  With  a  formidable  force  of  six  hun- 
 dred chariots,  and  cavalry,  a  force  perhaps  com- 
 prehending the  chief  nobility,  as  well  as  the  prin- 
 cipal military  strength  of  his  kingdom,  Pharaoh 
 followed  them  along  the  shore ;  where  he  found 
 them  encamped,  with  a  mountain  ridge  on  their 
 right,  the  sea  on  their  left,  and  in  front  only  a 
 continuation  of  the  defile  ;  and  even  that  stopped, 
 a  few  miles  further  on,  by  an  arm  of  the  sea. 
 
 No  situation  could  be  more  desperate.  The 
 Israelites,  obviously  awakened  to  their  difficulty, 
 and  terrified  at  the  sight  of  the  Egyptian  army  in 
 pursuit,  exclaimed  against  the  rashness  which  had 
 attempted  their  deliverance,  only  to  expose  them 
 to  massacre.  With  a  bitter  taunt  they  cry  out  to 
 their  leader,  "Were  there  no  graves  in  Egypt, 
 that  thou  hast  taken  us  away  to  die  in  the  wilder- 
 ness ?"  He  is  unshaken,  attempts  to  restore 
 their  confidence,  declares  that  there  is  no  ground 
 for  fear,  that  Heaven  will  fight  their  battle,  and 
 pronounces  that  they  shall  see  their  enemy  no 
 more. 
 
 But  it  is  remarkable,  that  the  faith  of  Moses 
 seems  to  have  been  as  much  subjected  to  trial  as 
 that  of  his  feeble-spirited  countrymen  ;  for  the 
 manner  in  which  the  hand  of  Heaven  was  to  be 
 exercised  was  still  unrevealed.  He  probably  looked 
 for  the  destruction  of  the  Egyptians  by  some  great 
 agency  of  nature.     Yet,  if  they  had  been  swept 
 
THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES.  405 
 
 away  by  a  simoom,  a  tempest,  an  earthquake,  or 
 any  similar  visitation,  it  is  clear  that  the  ultimate 
 object,  the  proof  to  both  Egypt  and  Israel  of  the 
 direct  power  of  Heaven,  would  have  been  but  im- 
 perfectly attained.  Some  of  so  large  a  host  would 
 naturally  have  escaped ;  and  even  if  all  had  perish- 
 ed, the  pride  of  Egypt  would  have  turned  the 
 loss  into  a  mere  mischance  of  war  and  climate  ;  a 
 conclusion  which  would  have  left  her  equally 
 prompt  to  take  advantage  of  the  first  occasion  of 
 striking  a  final  blow  at  her  former  slaves. 
 
 There  is  an  obvious  succession  in  the  Divine 
 commands  to  Moses.  The  first  is  only  to  "stretch 
 out  his  rod  over  the  Red  Sea," — "  that  the  Israel- 
 ites may  pass  on  dry  ground."  The  enemy's  at- 
 tack, in  the  interval,  is  baffled  and  bewildered  by 
 the  preternatural  darkness  which  envelopes  them. 
 But  all  is  provided  for  with  the  same  consummate 
 circumspection.  Even  the  passage  of  the  Israel- 
 ites hy  night,  may  have  been  a  precaution  against 
 their  habitual  fears.  They  follow  through  the 
 sea-bed,  unappalled  by  those  natural  terrors  of 
 the  transit,  from  which  they  might  have  shrunk 
 in  the  light  of  day.  The  same  obscurity  which 
 precludes  the  fears  of  the  Israelites,  also  precludes 
 the  caution  of  the  Egyptians.  The  movement  of  so 
 vast  a  multitude  could  not  have  been  unheard  in 
 the  Egyptian  camp.  They  instantly  follow  the 
 sound,  and  are  led  into  the  track  of  the  retreating 
 nation.     But,  perplexed  by  the  solid  darkness  of 
 
406  THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES. 
 
 the  cloud,  and  evidently  retarded  by  the  slow 
 movement  of  their  chariots — "  for  they  drave 
 them  heavily" — they  labour  during  the  night 
 along  the  channel  of  the  sea,  without  being  able 
 to  reach  the  Israelites. 
 
 At  length  the  "  morning  watch"  is  come  :  the 
 whole  body  of  the  Israelites  have  reached  the 
 shore ;  the  whole  body  of  the  Egyptians  have 
 poured  into  the  sea-bed.  The  cloud  rises,  and 
 the  entire  scene  (and  surely  none  more  anxious, 
 strange,  and  magnificent,  ever  lay  beneath  the 
 human  eye)  opens  to  Moses  and  to  Israel :  the 
 watery  mountains ;  the  solemn  and  terrible  val- 
 ley ;  the  long  array  of  the  Egyptian  squadrons 
 glittering  round  their  king  :  the  whole  pomp  of 
 war,  contrasted  with  the  awfulness  of  nature  under 
 the  very  impress  of  miracle.  Still  Moses  awaits 
 the  Divine  will  :  probably  to  the  last  moment  un- 
 conscious of  the  means  by  which  it  was  to  be  ful- 
 filled. The  blow  does  not  yet  fall ;  the  arrogance 
 of  the  king  and  his  host  is  to  be  humbled  to  the 
 acknowledgment,  before  they  die,  that  there  is  no 
 strength  in  war  against  the  chosen  people.  At  last, 
 they  cry  out  that  "  the  Lord  fighteth  for  Israel." 
 They  turn  in  despair.  The  command  is  now 
 given.  "  And  the  Lord  said  unto  Moses,  Stretch 
 out  thine  hand  over  the  sea,  that  the  waters  may 
 come  again  upon  the  Egyptians."  The  destruction 
 was  total : — "and  the  waters  returned,  and  covered 
 the  chariots  and  the  horsemen,   and  all  the  host 
 
THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES.  407 
 
 of  Pharaoh  that  came  into  the  sea  after  them. 
 There  remained  not  so  much  as  one  of  them  ^" 
 The  direct  result  of  the  miracle  in  the  chosen 
 people  was  a  change  of  the  national  heart  from 
 doubt,  mutiny,  and  despair,  to  faith,  obedience, 
 and  joy.  "And  Israel  saw  that  great  work, 
 which  the  Lord  did  upon  the  Egyptians,  and  the 
 people  feared  the  Lord,  and  believed  the  Lord, 
 and  his  servant  Moses  ^."  The  mere  narration  of 
 this  mighty  miracle  is  evidence  that  it  was  Divine. 
 The  simplicity  of  the  means,  contrasted  with  the 
 variety  of  the  objects,  the  completeness  of  their 
 accomplishment,  and  the  suitableness  of  both  to 
 the  true  idea  of  the  Deity,  as  protector  and 
 punisher ;  place  it  as  much  beyond  the  concep- 
 tion, as  the  execution,  of  human  powers. 
 
 The  remaining  miracles  can  be  merely  glanced 
 at.  But  there  is  one  striking  characteristic  of 
 them  all ;  the  vastness  of  their  scale.  The  calcu- 
 lation of  the  number  who  marched  out  of  Egypt, 
 cannot  be  much  less  than  three  millions  ^  Thus 
 every  miracle  which  applied  to  the  whole  popu- 
 lation,  was  of  an   astonishing  magnitude  ;    and 
 
 ^  Exod.  xiv.  28.  '  Ibid.  xiv.  31. 
 
 '  Six  hundred  thousand  men  of  military  age  ;  implying  an 
 equal  number  above  and  below  that  age,  one  million  two 
 hundred  thousand ;  and  the  number  of  females  equal  to  that  of 
 the  males  ;   besides  "  a  mixed  multitude." 
 
408  THE  MOSAIC  MIRACLES. 
 
 thus,  totally  precluding  all  possibility  of  collusion 
 or  human  contrivance.  The  Egyptian  plagues 
 spread  over  a  whole  realm  at  once.  The  march 
 of  the  Israelites  through  the  Red  Sea  was  the 
 movement  of  a  host,  as  large  as  that  of  Xerxes. 
 And  it  is  among  the  wonders  of  the  Divine 
 hand,  that  this  vast  multitude,  encumbered  as  it 
 was  with  women  and  children,  and  bringing  its 
 cattle,  should  have  been  moved  across  a  strait,  at 
 least  three  miles  in  breadth,  if  not  ten,  between 
 sunset  and  sunrise ;  while  the  passage  of  the 
 Hellespont,  with  all  the  vigorous  habits  and  active 
 preparations  of  a  soldiery,  occupied  five  days. 
 
 On  this  scale,  every  act  of  miracle  was,  not  sim- 
 ply a  display  of  power  above  man,  but  a  stupen- 
 dous display  of  that  power.  It  goes  further  still ; 
 it  renders  every  common  circumstance  of  the 
 Israelite  march  a  miracle.  The  well  of  which 
 they  drank  must  have  poured  out  a  preternatural 
 stream.  The  purification  of  the  waters  of  Marah 
 must  have  been  beyond  the  natural  powers  of  any 
 herb,  or  of  any  product  of  earth,  from  the  mere 
 magnitude  of  the  operation  ;  it  was  to  supply 
 water  for  the  thirst  of  three  millions  of  people. 
 The  rock  stricken  by  Moses,  must  have  poured 
 out,  not  a  gush  of  water,  but  the  copious  and  con- 
 tinued flow  of  a  river.  The  manna  which  fed 
 them,    "an  omer '  for  every  man,"   must  have 
 
 '  An  omer  is  about  half  a  peck. 
 
THE  MOSAIC    MIRACLES.  409 
 
 poured  down  in  overwhelming  quantities.  The 
 quails  which  fed  them  for  a  day,  must  have  come 
 in  flights,  not  of  thousands,  but  millions. 
 
 An  attempt  has  been  made  to  account  for  the 
 mortality  which  seized  the  Israelites,  after  feed- 
 ing on  the  quails ;  by  supposing  that  those  birds 
 had  fed  on  poisonous  plants.  But,  in  this  case 
 the  quails  themselves  would  naturally  have  been 
 the  first  sufferers.  It  is  true,  that  some  animals 
 will  eat  food  unwholesome  to  man  ;  and  equally 
 true,  that  some  animals  are  by  nature  unfit  for 
 human  food.  But  we  have  still  to  find  the  in- 
 stance, where  an  animal,  the  natural  food  of  man, 
 turns  its  flesh  into  poison  for  him,  without  first 
 dying  of  the  operation. 
 
 But  in  reasoning  of  this  order,  the  sceptic  uni- 
 formly omits  the  true  characters  of  the  miracle. 
 Those  were  not  in  the  mere  flight  of  quails,  which, 
 taken  alone,  might  be  attributed  to  accident ;  but 
 in  the  distinct  declaration,  that  it  was  for  an  an- 
 swer and  a  punishment  to  the  Israelite  murmur- 
 ings  ;  and  in  the  fulfilment  of  the  words,  that  the 
 meat  for  which  they  clamoured  should  be  given  to 
 them  in  such  measureless  superfluity,  *'  that  it 
 should  be  loathsome  to  them;"  meat,  ''not  for  a 
 day,  nor  for  two,  nor  five,  nor  ten,  nor  twenty  days, 
 but  even  a  whole  month,  till  it  came  out  at  their 
 
410  THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES. 
 
 nostrils'."  Moses  himself  is  evidently  alike 
 startled  by  the  declaration,  and  unacquainted  with 
 the  means.  He  asks,  "Shall  all  the  fish  of  the 
 sea  be  gathered  to  suffice  them,  or  shall  the  flocks 
 and  herds  be  slain,  thus  to  feed  them  for  a 
 month?"  He  is  answered  by  the  remonstrance — 
 "Is  the  Lord's  hand  waxed  short?  Thou  shalt 
 see." 
 
 The  flight  then  comes,  and  in  such  abundance, 
 as  to  cover  the  camp  and  the  land  round  it, 
 a  day's  journey^  on  every  side.  "  He  that  ga- 
 thered least  gathered  ten  omers."  They  spread 
 them  out  to  dry  round  the  camp,  secure  of  provi- 
 sion for  a  long  period.  But,  in  the  full  enjoyment 
 of  the  luxury,  the  Divine  declaration  is  fulfilled. 
 Death  is  upon  them  ;  they  are  smitten  with  "a 
 very  great  plague." 
 
 It  is  also  overlooked  by  those  who  conceive  the 
 quails  to  have  fed  on  poison  before  they  were  to 
 poison  the  Israelites  ;  that  a  flight  of  quails  had,  in 
 the  second  month  of  their  dwelling  in  the  desert, 
 
 '  Numb.  xi.  20. 
 
 *  From  ten  to  twenty  miles.  Harmer  childishly  observes,  that 
 the  smaller  extent  would  be  preferable,  "  as  it  would  soften  the 
 objection  to  their  being  quails,  founded  on  their  immense  quan- 
 tity." As  if  the  whole  were  not  a  declared  display  of  the  power 
 of  the  Creator.  Such  an  observer  would  stipulate  for  the  ga- 
 thering up  of  six  baskets,  instead  of  twelve,  in  the  miracle  of 
 the  loaves  and  fishes,  "  to  soften  the  objection"  to  its  being 
 within  the  power  of — Omnipotence. 
 
THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES.  411 
 
 been  sent  to  the-  people  for  food,  and  sent  without 
 any  resulting  injury.  The  reason  for  this  striking- 
 difference  may  be,  that  in  the  latter  instance  the 
 clamours  of  the  multitude  were  in  some  degree 
 excusable,  from  their  having  totally  exhausted 
 their  Egyptian  provisions,  and  seeing  nothing 
 before  them  but  famine  \  They  were  upbraided 
 with  their  want  of  faith  ;  but  the  Divine  answer 
 was,  that  by  the  supply  they  should  know  that 
 they  were  under  the  protection  of  Jehovah.  They 
 ate,  and  were  filled  ;  on  the  next  morning  the 
 permanent  supply  of  manna  was  given.  The  con- 
 trast may  not  less  explain  why,  in  the  abundant 
 variety  of  human  food,  quails  alone  were  again 
 brought  to  the  camp.  The  people  had  now  been  for 
 years  in  the  enjoyment  of  an  unfailing  sustenance, 
 they  were  without  the  excuse  of  any  fear  of  famine, 
 their  murmurs  arose  not  from  necessity,  but  from 
 insolence ;  and  therefore,  to  convince  them  of 
 their  crime,  the  very  food  which  had  once  been  a 
 harmless  gratification,  was  now  a  source  of  ruin ; 
 the  instrument  of  a  sudden  and  sweeping  pesti- 
 lence ;  death  let  loose  at  the  instant ;  "  while  the 
 flesh  was  yet  between  their  teeth,  they  died." 
 
 The  food  and  clothing  of  the  people  were  mi- 
 racles, on  the  same  stupendous  scale  of  magnitude, 
 
 '  Exod.  xvi.  3. 
 
412  THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES. 
 
 enhanced  by  extraordinary  duration  ; — the  food 
 and  clothing  of  millions  for  forty  years.  "  I  have  led 
 you  forty  years  in  the  wilderness,"  is  the  express 
 language  ;  "  your  clothes  are  not  waxen  old  upon 
 you,  and  thy  shoe  is  not  waxen  old  upon  thy  foot^" 
 In  defiance,  rash  and  presumptuous  defiance,  of 
 this  language,  it  has  been  asserted  that  the  Israel- 
 ites might  have  been  supplied  with  clothing  by 
 their  own  flocks,  or  by  traffic  with  the  caravans 
 and  neighbouring  countries. 
 
 But  how  was  the  immense  quantity  of  material 
 necessary  for  this  purpose  to  be  obtained  ?  Moses 
 evidently  estimates  their  flocks  and  herds  at  not 
 more  than  sufficient  for  the  supply  of  a  month, 
 even  for  food  ;  how  much  less  sufficient  for  the 
 supply  of  a  year's  clothing  ?  If  traffic  were  to  be 
 the  resource,  where  existed  the  means  ?  The  soil 
 produced  nothing  ;  they  could  not  sell  the  manna  ; 
 their  gold  consisted  chiefly  in  the  ornaments  of 
 their  women,  as  we  must  conclude  from  their  con- 
 tributions to  the  golden  materials  of  the  taber- 
 nacle. It  was  the  question,  of  clothing  three 
 millions  of  people  without  money,  produce,  or 
 disposable  labour  !  Thus  we  are  driven  back  to 
 the  text,  and  the  text  declares  it  to  be  altogether  a 
 work  of  Deity,  and  combines  it  with  the  supply  of 
 food,  an  acknowledged  miracle.  Have  we  a  right 
 to  divide  them,  or  to  conclude  that  one  was  more 
 difficult  than  the  other,  or  to  deny  either  ? 
 
 '  Deut.  xxix.  5. 
 
THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES.  413 
 
 The  conduct  of  Moses  during  those  high  events 
 is  entitled  to  rank  among  the  Evidences  of  Reve- 
 lation. Strongly  opposed  to  the  character  which 
 a  fictitious  narrative  must  draw  of  a  human  leader, 
 achieving,  by  human  means,  the  deliverance  of  a 
 people  from  slavery ;  it  is  incomparably  true  to 
 the  character  of  a  leader  acting  altogether  under 
 the  direction  of  Heaven. 
 
 Some  writers,  negligently  overlooking  the  dis- 
 tinction ;     some,    criminally    attempting    to    de- 
 grade the  testimony  ;  and  some,  in  idle  zeal,  have 
 laboured  to  fill  up  the  simple  outline  of  Scripture 
 with  the  broad  lineaments  and  colourings  which 
 constitute   popular  renown.     Moses  is   thus  bla- 
 zoned, as  exhibiting  the  most  consummate  union 
 of  all  the   qualities  of  command ;    dextrous  and 
 refined  in  his  conversion  of  Egyptian  science  to 
 the  purposes  of  Hebrew  civilization  ;    unrivalled 
 in  fertility   of  resource   among   the  various    and 
 perpetual    difl&culties    of    an    enterprise    equally 
 trying  by   its   novelty  and  its   magnitude  ;    and 
 bequeathing    to    the    admiration    of    mankind    a 
 model  of  the  labours  and  the  triumphs  of  genius 
 in   his  civil   government,    warlike    exploits,    and 
 religious    discipline.       Thus,    robed   in   honours, 
 which  his  pure  and   simple  nature  would  be  the 
 last  to  claim  ;  he  is  exhibited  to  us  in  the  succes- 
 sive garbs   of  the   legislator,    the   chieftain,   the 
 statesman,  and  the  hierarch  ;    and,  in  all,    held 
 forth  to  levy  a  contribution  upon  our  homage. 
 
414  THE    MOSAIC    MIRACLES. 
 
 But  this  is  not  the  leader  of  Israel.  Scripture, 
 shutting  out  altogether  the  image  of  this  impos- 
 ing and  formidable  combination  of  powers,  fitter 
 to  take  its  stand  among  the  idols  and  demi-gods 
 of  a  heathen  temple,  than  among  the  monuments 
 of  revealed  holiness  ;  places  before  us  the  memory 
 of  a  man  distinguished  only  for  the  silent  and 
 retiring  qualities  of  meekness  and  sincerity.  The 
 champion  of  the  slave,  and  founder  of  a  people,  is 
 an  aged  man,  totally  beyond  the  period  of  ambi- 
 tion ;  a  dweller  in  the  Desert,  reluctantly  return- 
 ing to  the  world  ;  and  there  passing  through  the 
 most  glittering  scenes  of  triumph,  as  he  passes 
 through  the  most  overwhelming  scenes  of  danger, 
 alike,  with  his  eyes  fixed  above  the  world. 
 
 But  this  character  is  incomparably  faithful  to 
 the  consistency  of  Providence.  When  the  pur- 
 pose is  mere  human  revolution,  there  human 
 qualities  may  be  the  natural  instruments.  The 
 sword  may  smite  the  sword  ;  the  race  may  be 
 to  the  swift,  and  the  battle  to  the  strong.  But  the 
 true  war  of  Israel  was  to  be  waged  in  a  loftier 
 region  :  not  with  man,  nor  by  man  ;  but  with 
 the  subtler  and  more  powerful  enemies,  who  com- 
 bine human  hostility  with  Divine  rebellion,  and 
 against  whom  the  weapons  must  be  drawn  from 
 the  armoury  of  God.  It  was  the  conflict,  not  of 
 the  Egyptian  against  the  Hebrew,  but  of  darkness 
 against  light ;  and  not  for  the  punishment  or  pos- 
 session of  such  fragments  of  the  earth  as  either 
 
THE  MOSAIC  MIRACLES.  415 
 
 Egypt  or  Palestine,  but  for  the  territory  of  an 
 empire,  which  was  to  be  as  broad  as  the  earth, 
 and  as  enduring  as  its  foundations.  And  this 
 characteristic  shapes  every  feature  of  the  great 
 transaction.  While  the  battle  was  to  be  fouo-ht 
 in  the  kingdom  of  the  prince  of  the  power  of  the 
 air,  man  could  be  no  more  than  a  spectator ; 
 while  the  thunders  of  that  solemn  and  tremen- 
 dous conflict  descended  to  him  only  in  the  mur- 
 murs of  oracles  and  echoes  of  inspiration,  he  could 
 only  listen  and  adore. 
 
 Even  where  the  Jewish  leader  is  forced  to 
 mingle  in  the  actual  struggle  of  human  passions, 
 his  aspect  is  totally  distinct  from  that  of  the  glow- 
 ing and  impetuous  chieftain,  stretching  through 
 the  field  after  the  crown  that  fame  and  victory 
 bear  upon  the  wing.  He  is  still  the  submissive 
 servant  of  a  higher  will.  Whether  bringing  the 
 tempest  of  wrath  on  Egypt  or  Amalek,  he  awaits 
 the  moment  of  the  Divine  command.  The  whirl- 
 wind and  the  storm  are  there  ;  but  he  is  neither 
 appalled,  nor  hurried  along,  by  their  power ;  he 
 points  them  to  the  task,  with  the  lofty  confidence 
 and  sacred  serenity  of  the  directing  angel. 
 
 Thus,  Scripture  rends  away  the  fabricated  ho- 
 nours, which  can  only  encumber  and  obscure  the 
 true  dignity  of  the  Jewish  leader.  Of  the  law,  it 
 does  not  suffer  us  to  ascribe  to  him  the  merit  of  a 
 single  line  ;  the  whole  code,  down  to  the  most  mi- 
 nute detail,  even  of  the  slightest  ceremonial,  is  ex- 
 
 7 
 
416  THE  MOSAIC  MIRACLES. 
 
 pressly  declared  to  have  been  by  direct  Revelation. 
 Of  the  guidance  of  the  people,  every  successive 
 step  is  equally  by  the  direct  command  of  Heaven. 
 And,  apparently,  for  the  purpose  of  sustaining 
 him  with  that  wisdom,  by  which  alone  he  was  to 
 be  guided  day  by  day  ;  the  mysteries  of  the 
 Divine  communication  are  declared  to  be  sus- 
 pended, in  his  instance,  and  Moses  alone  is 
 to  be  answered,  "  face  to  face,"  "  not  in  dark 
 speeches,"  but  as  "  friend  with  friend." 
 
 In  the  thronging  perplexities  of  his  civil  govern- 
 ment, he  enters  the  tabernacle,  and  supplicates 
 knowledge  from  Him,  "  that  sitteth  between  the 
 cherubim."  In  the  rebellions  of  the  tribes,  he 
 spreads  out  his  hands  to  Heaven  ;  and  awaits  its 
 protecting  plagues  and  fires.  In  the  battle,  he 
 kneels  within  sight  of  the  host,  and  brings  down 
 victory  by  prayer.  Even  in  so  simple  an  act  of 
 authority,  as  the  movement  of  the  Israelite  camp 
 from  an  exhausted  pasture,  or  a  failing  well,  he 
 exerts  no  choice,  he  is  still  dependent  on  the 
 superior  guidance.  He  waits,  for  months,  or 
 years,  the  rising  of  the  pillar  of  cloud  and  flame  ; 
 and  then  instantly  strikes  the  tents  of  Israel,  and 
 follows  the  "glory  of  the  Lord"  through  valley, 
 plain,  and  mountain. 
 
 Yet  this  character,  though  so  totally  separated 
 from  the  qualities  which  constitute  eminence  in 
 the  common  strifes  of  mankind  ;  and  exhibiting 
 no  trace  of  the  self-prompted  and  daring  decision 
 
THE  MOSAIC  MIRACLES.  417 
 
 wliich  wings  the  hero  across  the  height  and  depth 
 of  human  things,  may  be  essentially  of  a  much 
 higher  elevation.  The  noble  obedience  of  Moses, 
 born  of  gratitude,  faith,  and  love,  may  be  im- 
 measurably more  dignified  than  the  mortal  mix- 
 ture of  earth's  mould,  that  shapes  the  man,  fittest 
 for  the  general  successes  of  a  violent,  bitter,  crafty, 
 and  cruel  world.  The  qualities  of  the  triumpher 
 must  too  often  be  like  the  qualities  of  his  instru- 
 ments and  his  victims.  But  great  talents  are 
 themselves  among  the  most  powerful  temptations. 
 The  prizes  of  the  world  are  made  for  them  ;  and 
 the  very  intensity  of  their  gaze  at  the  object  of 
 their  ambition  prevents  them  from  discovering  the 
 depths  between  ;  there  is  no  humiliation  in  what- 
 ever gains  the  end  ;  the  arrogant  and  rebellious 
 spirit,  bound  on  his  voyage  to  supremacy,  as 
 eagerly  "shaves  with  level  wing  the  deep,"  as 
 "soars  up  to  the  burning  concave." 
 
 Yet  what  were  human  honours  or  abilities  to 
 the  man  who  stood  before  the  Eternal  ;  who 
 dwelt  with  Him  in  his  clouds  and  thunders ;  and 
 who  returned  among  mankind  with  the  visible 
 glory  on  his  brow,  a  more  illustrious  diadem  than 
 was  ever  worn  by  kings  !  Of  all  the  sons  of  Adam, 
 Moses  was  the  most  highly  honoured  by  God — 
 and  yet  his  simple  merits  are  within  the  power  of 
 every  man  that  lives. 
 
 E  e 
 
CHAPTER    XXXIIT. 
 
 THE  KINGDOM. 
 
 The  history  of  Israel,  from  the  death  of  Moses  to 
 the  close  of  the  theocracy,  by  the  anointing  of 
 Saul  as  king ;  was  a  continual  alternation  of 
 popular  crimes  and  popular  repentance,  of  heavy 
 inflictions  and  signal  deliverances.  The  beset- 
 ting sin  of  the  Israelite  was  idolatry ;  and  this 
 crime,  as  above  all  others,  extinguishing  the  bene- 
 fits and  the  nature  of  true  religion,  was  visited 
 with  unfailing  punishment.  Yet  the  Divine 
 mercy  was  so  much  superior  to  the  national 
 guilt,  that  in  the  long  career  of  almost  five 
 centuries,  scarcely  less  than  four  can  be  assigned 
 to  general  prosperity  and  protection.  The  sepa- 
 rate Tribes  were  often  severely  scourged ;  and 
 the  national  suffering  increased  from  the  time  of 
 Abimelech,  who  first  dared  to  insult  the  spirit  of 
 the  theocracy,  and  who  earned  an  abhorred  and  a 
 brief  throne,  and  an  ignominious  death,  by  the 
 insult.  But  the  theocracy  was,  in  its  general 
 aspect,  the  happiest  period  ever  known  by  Israel. 
 
THE    KINGDOM.  1  1  i^) 
 
 And  the  prophet  Samuel  was  fatally  justified  in 
 upbraiding  the  folly  and  ingratitude  which  ex- 
 changed the  lofty  long-suffering  of  their  Divine 
 Monarch,  for  the  caprices  and  severities  of  an 
 earthly  king. 
 
 But,  culpable  as  the  change  was,  it  was  bent 
 to  the  purposes  of  Providence.  The  conquest  of 
 Canaan  was  still  incomplete  ;  the  national  wor- 
 ship was  still  to  derive  final  strength,  purity,  and 
 splendour,  from  the  building  of  a  Temple  ;  the 
 several  commonwealths  of  the  Tribes,  often  jar- 
 ring, and  always  jealous,  were  still  to  be  compacted 
 into  the  form  and  united  energy  of  a  nation.  It 
 is  not  improbable  that  this  consolidation  of  the 
 state  had  some  reference  to  the  renewed  streno;th 
 of  the  Babylonian  empire,  and  the  shape  of  vigour 
 which  all  the  nations  surrounding  Palestine  were 
 already  tending  to  assume.  It  is  no  contradic- 
 tion to  this  idea,  that  Israel  so  soon  rendered 
 herself  unfit  to  perform  her  share  in  the  new  sys- 
 tem of  security.  Providence  often  submits  to  be 
 repelled  by  the  folly  of  man  ;  but  it  is  at  his  peril. 
 To  establish  the  powerful,  compact,  and  warlike 
 state,  essential  to  meet  the  change  in  the  Oriental 
 governments;  if  not  also  to  meet  the  growth, 
 remote  as  it  was,  of  those  more  memorable 
 governments,  which,  from  Greece  and  Italy, 
 were  yet  to  flood  Asia  with  war ;  the  gentle  in- 
 fluence of  the  priest,  and  the  intermitted  authority 
 of  the  Judge,  were  not  the  natural  means. 
 
 E  e  2 
 
420  THE    KINGDOM. 
 
 The  three  great  successive  operations,  of  com- 
 bining the  provinces  into  a  kingdom  ;  of  complet- 
 ing the  subjugation  of  those  enemies  which  still 
 usurped  a  place  in  the  land  ;  and  of  establishing 
 the  national  law  and  religion  in  magnificent  supre- 
 macy ;  seem  to  have  been  expressly  provided  for  in 
 the  characters  of  the  three  successive  sovereigns  : 
 Saul,  ambitious,  arbitrary,  and  jealous  of  power  ; 
 David,  popular,  daring,  and  indefatigable  in  war; 
 and  Solomon,  pacific  and  splendid,  kingly  in  his 
 nature,  at  the  head  of  intellectual  distinction, 
 and  devoting  all  his  better  years  to  the  grandeur 
 of  his  kingdom  and  his  religion. 
 
 The  period  appointed  to  each  of  the  three  ope- 
 rations was  accurately  equal  ;  each  monarch 
 reigned  forty  years  \ 
 
 But  the  sleepless  vigilance  of  the  Divine  go- 
 vernment is  the  perpetual  lesson  of  Scripture. 
 The  change  of  the  theocracy  had  been  distinctly 
 announced  five  hundred  years  before  by  the  lips  of 
 Moses  ^ ;  and  ordinances  had  even  then  been  given 
 to  provide  against  its  prominent  evils.  Those 
 ordinances  were,  that  the  king  should  be  chosen 
 according  to  the  declared  election  of  God  ;  that  he 
 should  not  be  a  foreigner  ;  that  he  should  not  sin 
 by  the  habitual  polygamy  of  Paganism  ;  nor  amass 
 
 '  Acts  xiii.  21  ;  2  Sam.  v.  4.  ;    1  Kings  xi.  42. 
 
 ^  When  thou  art  come  into  the  land,  which  the  Lord  thy  God 
 giveth,  and  shalt  possess  it,  and  shalt  say,  /  will  set  a  king  over 
 me,  like  all  the  nations  that  are  about  me.  Deut.  xvii.  14. 
 
THE    KINGDOM.  421 
 
 unwieldy  treasures  of  gold  and  silver ;   nor  adopt 
 the  habits  of  Eastern  conquest,  by  raising  large 
 forces  of  cavalry.      A  peculiar  command  enjoined 
 that  a  copy  of  the  law  should  be  made  for  his  es- 
 pecial use,  and  should  form  his  constant  study.    On 
 those  conditions  the  throne  was  to  be  continued  in 
 prosperity  and  power,   to  him  and  to  his  children. 
 The  importance  of  those  rules  to  the  condition 
 of  Judaea  is  clear,   but  they  are  universal.     The 
 principles  of  national  security   were  never  more 
 distinctly  laid  before  mankind,  than  in  this  brief 
 and  simple  summary.— A  native  prince— an  army 
 limited    to   defence— royal   and     popular    morals 
 guided  by  Scripture— revenues  not  amassed   for 
 royal  luxury  or  national  ambition,  but  sent  back 
 through  the  popular  channels  for  the  general  use, 
 animation,  and  improvement  of  the  community. 
 
 It  is  impossible  not  to  recognize  in  those  prin- 
 ciples a  provision  for  national  strength,  divested 
 of  all  the  qualities  which  excite  the  intrigues, 
 justify  the  alarms,  or  tempt  the  cupidity  of  sur- 
 rounding kingdoms. 
 
 With  the  death  of  Solomon  commenced  the 
 decline  of  Judaea.  By  a  melancholy  and  startling 
 inconsistency,  the  monarch  who  had  raised  the 
 temple  with  such  unrivalled  pomp,  was  himself 
 the  first  to  stain  it  with  Paganism.  The  vengeance 
 was  prompt  and  terrible.  From  that  hour,  his 
 kingdom  stood  upon  the  verge  of  the  grave. 
 Paganism  had  been  the  crime,  and  it  was  made 
 
422  THE  KINGDOM. 
 
 the  punishment ;  the  flame  of  the  polluted  altar 
 shot  earthward,  and  devoured  its  worshippers. 
 The  reign  of  Solomon  was  thenceforth  harassed 
 with  angry  insurrection  ;  and  he  died,  leaving  the 
 world  its  most  memorable  warning,  of  the  fatal 
 facility  with  which  the  passions  can  overthrow  the 
 most  illustrious  ffifts  of  nature  and  fortune.  Yet 
 he  mav  have  formed  a  not  less  memorable  instance 
 of  the  exhaustless  nature  of  the  Divine  compas- 
 sion. And  the  deep  convictions  of  his  expiring 
 years  ;  his  solemn  acknowledgments  of  the  empti- 
 ness of  human  grandeur,  and  his  true  summation  of 
 all  happiness,  in  the  simple  precept  of  "  doing 
 justice,  and  walking  humbly  before  God,"  may 
 console  us  with  the  thought,  that  this  greatest 
 man,  and  monarch,  that  ever  sat  upon  a  throne, 
 rests  in  glory. 
 
 Idolatry  was  the  strong  temptation  of  ancient 
 life  ;  its  festivals  engaged  the  idle,  its  pleasures 
 allured  the  profligate,  and  its  substitution  of  light 
 services  for  the  severe  demands  of  moral  duties, 
 enlisted  on  its  side  the  whole  infinite  multitude  to 
 whom  all  things  are  easier  than  self-controul. 
 The  voluptuous  climate  of  the  East,  naturally  dis- 
 posing man,  at  once,  to  festivity  and  indolence, 
 gave  this  system  of  solemn  and  splendid  licentious- 
 ness irresistible  attractions  for  the  popular  mind. 
 The  Israelite,  who,  in  the  free  air  of  the  wilderness, 
 had  clamoured  for  Egyptian  slavery ;  who,  in  the 
 daily   descent   of  the   bread    From   Heaven,    had 
 
THE    KINGDOM.  423 
 
 mutinied  for  the  gross  food  of  his  task-masters ; 
 and  who,   at  the  foot  of  Sinai,  while  the  clouds 
 and    thunders    of    the     Divine     presence    were 
 rolling'  above  his  head,  had  worshipped  an  idol ; 
 could  have  been  preserved  from  this  madness  in 
 Canaan    only   by    a    perpetual    miracle.      Once 
 undisputed   lord  of  the   rich  possessions   of  the 
 idolator,    he  plunged  headlong  into   his  crimes. 
 The   Philistine  wars,   like   the  Egyptian   chains, 
 had  partially  repelled  the  popular  mind  from  the 
 religion  of  its  enemy.     But,  with  his  extinction, 
 the  abhorrence  of  his  customs  passed  away  ;   and 
 that  temptation,  against  which  Moses  had  warned 
 the  tribes,  "  when  they  were  to  come  into  the  land, 
 and  possess  it,"  and,  in  the  fulness  of  their  pros- 
 perity, they  were  to   "forget  their   God;"   now 
 came  upon  them  in  ruin.     The  rebellion  of  the 
 ten  tribes,   disguised   under  murmurs   at  the   ri- 
 gorous exactions  of  Solomon,  or  the  boyish  inso- 
 lence of  his  successor,  showed  its  true  motive  in 
 the  rapid  erection  of  idolatrous  altars.     From  the 
 division  of  the  kingdom,   the  long  period  of  two 
 centuries  and   a  half  witnessed  the   crimes   and 
 partial  punishments  of  the  revolters ;  until  their 
 cup  was  full,   and  they  were  swept  by  the  Assy- 
 rian, Shalmanezer,  into  returnless  captivity.     Ju- 
 dah,    awakened    by  the  lesson,   to    comparative 
 virtue,    was  tried  for  a  hundred  and  thirty-four 
 years  longer.     But   the  lesson   was  at   last  for- 
 
424  THE    KINGDOM. 
 
 gotten ;  the  native  habits  prevailed  ;  and  she  was 
 sent,  like  Israel,  to  learn,  in  the  Assyrian  fetter, 
 the  judgments  of  Heaven. 
 
 Yet,  in  the  fates  of  the  two  kingdoms,  there 
 was  a  striking  distinction.  To  Israel,  the  capti- 
 vity was  ruin  ;  to  Judah,  discipline.  No  prophet 
 cheered  the  exile  of  Israel  with  the  promise  of  re- 
 turn ;  while,  to  Judah,  not  only  were  the  most 
 solemn  declarations  of  prophecy  pledged  for  her 
 return  ;  but  the  time  was  fixed,  the  means  were 
 stated,  even  the  name  of  the  instrument  was 
 given, — the  mighty  Persian,  by  whom  the  gates 
 of  her  prison  were  to  be  thrown  open,  and  her 
 people  sent  back,  once  more,  to  "  sit  under  their 
 own  vine  and  their  own  fig-tree."  The  distinction 
 of  punishment  must,  in  justice,  have  been  founded 
 on  the  distinction  of  crime.  The  revolt  of  Israel 
 from  her  king  and  her  God  was  instant,  national, 
 and  irreclaimable.  Judah  had  adhered  to  her  king, 
 and  often  returned  to  her  God.  Thus  was  room  left 
 for  the  performance  of  that  high  benediction,  by 
 which  it  was  declared  that  the  sovereignty  should 
 never  be  finally  extinguished  in  Judah,  until  He 
 came,  in  whose  hand  was  finally  to  rest  the 
 sceptre  of  all  nations.  But  the  punishment  of 
 idolatry  was  inevitable.  Four  hundred  and  sixty- 
 eight  years  from  the  beginning  of  David's  reign 
 in  Jerusalem,  and  three  hundred  and  eighty- 
 eight  from   the   revolt   of  Israel,   Jerusalem  was 
 
THE    KINGDOM.  4'25 
 
 taken  by  Nebuchadnezzar ;  the  temple,  palaces, 
 and  city,  were  laid  in  ashes,  and  the  people  swept 
 away  into  servitude. 
 
 Judah  was  now  sunk  to  the  lowest  depths  of 
 suffering ;  yet  she  was  not  forgotten.  While  the 
 prophets  Obadiah,  Ezekiel,  and  Jeremiah,  cheer- 
 ed her  misfortunes,  by  unfolding,  in  language 
 of  unrivalled  power,  visions  of  the  future,  sur- 
 passing all  the  dreams  of  earthly  triumph,  or 
 loftily  denounced  ruin  against  her  oppressors ; 
 Daniel  was  raised  to  all  but  supreme  authority 
 in  Babylon,  to  form  at  once  her  protector  by  his 
 influence,  her  example  by  his  virtue,  and  her 
 consolation  by  the  most  distinct  and  exalting 
 prophecies  ever  transmitted  to  the  ancient 
 world. 
 
 At  the  close  of  the  predicted  seventy  years  of 
 bondage,  Judah  returned  \  but  with  numbers 
 heavily  diminished.     She   found  the  land  over- 
 
 '  It  was  on  the  eve  of  this  deliverance  that  the  famous  pro- 
 phecy of  the  '*  seventy  weeks,"  the  seven  times  seventy  years, 
 was  given  to  Daniel,  in  answer  to  his  strong  and  pathetic  sup- 
 plication. It  is  striking  to  observe  how  deeply  the  painful  part 
 of  the  prediction  is  enveloped  in  mystery,  while  the  promise  of 
 the  Messiah  is  so  richly  expanded  to  the  eminent  servant  of 
 God,  to  cheer  and  reward  whom  it  was  given.  The  prophecy 
 itself  is  still  but  imperfectly  interpreted.  All  the  commentators 
 have  failed  to  attain  any  exact  interpretation.  Yet  it  is  perfectly 
 capable  of  one.  The  whole  error  results  from  a  simple,  though 
 inveterate  misconception. 
 
426  THE    KINGDOM. 
 
 run  with  thorns  and  thistles,  large  portions  of  it  in 
 the  possession  of  wild  and  nameless  strangers,  and 
 the  Samaritans  raising  a  rival  power  and  a  rival 
 worship.  Canaan  lay  before  her,  as  it  lay  when 
 she  first  set  foot  within  its  borders  ;  but  with  its 
 beauty  desolate ;  for  the  free  and  rejoicing  mil- 
 lions of  Joshua,  marching  with  the  pillar  of  fire 
 before  them,  and  vanquishing  by  miracle,  Judah 
 saw  her  tribes  dependent  on  the  bounty  of  a 
 heathen  master,  broken  in  spirit,  enfeebled  in 
 numbers,  and  surrounded  with  enemies,  jealous 
 of  her  rights,  contemptuous  of  her  power,  and 
 bitter  against  her  religion.  All  was  to  be  founded 
 again ;  she  had  to  fight  her  whole  way  upward, 
 and  find  every  step  a  struggle,  not  for  dominion, 
 but  for  existence. 
 
 The  total  dispersion  of  the  ten  Tribes,  conveys 
 a  striking  reply  to  the  surmise,  that  there  is  some- 
 thins:  in  the  Jewish  nature  which  forbids  national 
 extinction ;  a  physical  abhorrence  of  mixture 
 with  foreign  habits,  which  preserves  the  Jew  dis- 
 tinct from  all  other  men.  In  the  ten  Tribes  we 
 see  an  assimilation  so  complete,  that  nearly  all 
 traces  of  their  existence  have  vanished :  this 
 impracticable  and  unmalleable  race,  taking  the 
 shape  of  the  stranger,  even  to  the  verge  of  iden- 
 tity ;  exile,  like  a  vast  tomb,  dissolving  them  into 
 the  general  elements  of  human  nature,  and  leav- 
 ing no  more  distinction  between  the  Israelite  and 
 the  Tartar,  or  the  Mede,   than  between  the  dust 
 
THE    KINGDOM.  427 
 
 of  the  dead  '.  If  the  man  of  Judah  survives  all 
 the  changes  of  time  and  nations,  a  monumental 
 man,  it  is  by  a  higher  cause  than  the  operation 
 of  nature.  Neither  his  customs,  his  prejudices, 
 his  sufferings,  nor  his  blood,  are  sufficient  to 
 account  for  that  ominous  severance  from  man- 
 kind, which  makes  him,  mingled  as  he  is  with 
 all  the  transactions  of  earth,  still  belong  to  ano- 
 ther state  of  human  being ;  exhibit  in  his  prin- 
 ciples, pursuits,  and  countenance,  the  seal  of  two 
 thousand  years  ago  ;  and,  by  a  fatality  which 
 follows  him  round  the  world,  wear  among  all 
 nations  the  indelible  stamp  of  exile  and  misfor- 
 tune. The  pillar  of  salt,  that  stood  for  so  many 
 ages  by  the  Dead  Sea,  to  remind  his  ancestors  of 
 the  guilt  of  "  looking  back,"  when  the  hand  of 
 Heaven  led  forward,  was  not  a  stronger  testi- 
 monial than  the  living  Jew.  The  force  and  mul- 
 titude of  the  people  had  gone  down  with  Israel ; 
 they  slept,  with  their  national  crimes,   under  the 
 
 '  This,  however,  is  said  only  with  reference  to  the  final  ab- 
 sorption of  those  Jews  into  the  mass  of  the  Persian  subjects,  &c. 
 Large  bodies  of  them  continued  separate  for  a  considerable 
 period  in  Media.  The  Babylonian  Jews  constituted  a  commu- 
 nity until  within  fifty  years  of  the  Christian  era.  A  few  settle- 
 ments of  "black  Jews"  exist  in  India,  which  have  been  de- 
 scribed by  Buchanan  as  preserving  the  traditions,  and  profess- 
 ing themselves  to  be  the  descendants  of  the  ten  Tribes.  But 
 such  trivial  exceptions  make  no  difference  in  the  general  fate  of 
 the  multitude. 
 
 7 
 
428  THE    KINGDOM. 
 
 waters.  Judah  ''  looked  back,"  in  the  day  when 
 the  very  angels  of  the  Divine  will,  the  leaders 
 and  ministering  spirits  of  Christianity,  were  point- 
 ing to  the  city  of  refuge.  The  shower  of  wrath 
 reached  the  lingerer ;  and  there  she  stands,  im- 
 moveable and  unchangeable,  until  the  great  day 
 when  all  shall  change. 
 
CHAPTER   XXXIV. 
 
 THE  RESTORATION  OF  JUDAH. 
 
 The  third  period  from  the  close  of  the  captivity 
 to  the  final  fall  of  Jerusalem,  a  period  exceeding* 
 the  former  by  about  a  century  and  a  half,  bore 
 a  character  signally  different  from  both.  The 
 true  view  of  Providence  is,  unquestionably,  that 
 of  a  Divine  energy  perpetually  exerting  itself  to 
 extract  good  out  of  evil.  God  tempts  no  man. 
 He  gives  no  impulse  to  the  natural  evil  of  the 
 heart ;  but  he  lays  no  restraints  on  human  liberty  ; 
 If  prince  or  people  will  open  their  ears  to  the 
 tempter,  their  way  to  ruin  is  free. 
 
 But  the  triumph  of  the  Divine  benevolence  is 
 thenceforth  to  be  won,  in  the  consummate  skill  of 
 converting  the  very  instruments  of  evil  into  the 
 unconscious  agents  of  good  ;  in  subverting  the  ad- 
 versary, by  the  consequence  of  his  own  acts  ;  and 
 even  in  turning  the  severest  necessary  punish- 
 ments of  nations  into  the  material  of  happiness  to 
 mankind . 
 
 The  utter  extinction  of  the  ten  tribes  was  made 
 
430  THE    RESTORATION    OF    JUDAH. 
 
 an  element  of  preserving  religion  in  Judaea,  The 
 Babylonish  captivity  had  been  a  bitter  lesson ; 
 but  the  human  mind  is  elastic,  and  speedily  for- 
 gets the  wisdom  of  adversity  with  the  pain.  The 
 Egyptian  bondage  had  been  a  lesson  of  still 
 keener  severity  ;  yet  the  bond-slaves  had  scarcely 
 become  freemen,  when  the  whip  and  the  dungeon 
 were  forgotten,  and  the  Israelite  danced  and 
 feasted  before  an  idol.  If  the  twelve  tribes  had 
 returned,  and  filled  the  land  once  more,  posses- 
 sion and  power  might  have  rapidly  obliterated 
 all  records  of  a  suftering,  so  injurious  to  the  na- 
 tional pride.  No  human  barrier  could  have 
 resisted  their  passion  for  idolatry  ;  and  the  so- 
 journ in  Babylon,  as  in  Egypt,  would  have  only 
 added  their  foreign  profligacy  to  their  original 
 licentiousness. 
 
 But  the  days  of  Jewish  plenitude  were  past. 
 Judah  returned,  less  a  chastised  people  than  a  hu- 
 miliated remnant ;  less  an  established  religion, 
 than  a  tolerated  sect;  less  bearing  the  port  and 
 dignity  of  sovereigns  of  the  land,  than  as  slaves, 
 stooping  under  old  vassalage,  and  ejected  from 
 the  Babylonian  dungeon,  to  wear  the  vestiges  of 
 the  chain  upon  them  to  the  end  of  their  days. 
 For  five  hundred  years  longer,  Judah  continued 
 a  trembling  and  subdued  people,  existing  on 
 the  caprice,  or  degraded  into  the  prize,  of  the 
 heathen. 
 
 But  the  discipline  of  her  idolatry  was  successful. 
 
THE    RESTORATION    OF    JUDAH.  431 
 
 From  the  hour  of  that  return,  she  never  voluntarily 
 bowed  before  an  idol.  Poverty,  anxiety,  and  suf- 
 fering, were  her  guardians,  stronger  than  the  re- 
 monstrances of  her  prophets,  and  more  vigilant 
 than  the  ordinances  of  her  kings. 
 
 The  restoration  of  Judah,  even  in  its  slightest 
 view,  is  full  of  the  most  vivid  and  significant 
 features  of  histor3^  At  the  close  of  the  seventy 
 years'  captivity  (b.  c.  536),  two  years  from  the 
 fall  of  Babylon,  Cyrus,  sole  master  of  the  great 
 Persian  empire,  issued  a  decree,  authorizing  the 
 return  of  the  Jewish  captives  to  their  own  land, 
 and  the  rebuilding  of  their  Temple ;  further  de- 
 claring, that  the  decree  was  by  the  express  command 
 of  Heaven'^.  The  captives,  nearly  to  the  number  of 
 50,000,  under  Zerubbabel,  the  Prince,  and  Joshua, 
 the  High  Priest,  returned,  and  laid  the  foundation 
 of  the  Temple  :  the  young  shouted  for  joy ;  but 
 the  aged  wept  at  its  inferiority  to  the  fallen 
 Temple  of  their  fathers. 
 
 The  heathen  governors  and  priests,  who  had 
 possessed  the  land  during  the  captivity,  strongly 
 resisted  the  progress  of  the  building  ;  and  excited 
 the  proverbial  suspicions  of  an  eastern  court,  by 
 representing  the  people  to  the  Persian  monarch 
 as    "rebellious  of    old,    hurtful    to    kings    and 
 
 '  Ezra  i.  2. 
 
432  THE    RESTORATION    OF    JUDAH. 
 
 princes,  and  movers  of  sedition."  The  result 
 of  those  intrigues  was  a  royal  order,  forbid- 
 ding the  erection  of  the  Temple.  But  the 
 prophets  Haggai  and  Zechariah  cheered  the 
 people  by  Divine  promises  of  strength  and  se- 
 curity ;  an  appeal  was  made  before  the  Persian 
 monarch  to  the  original  decree  of  Cyrus,  and  the 
 Temple  was  finally  raised,  (b.c.  515.)  Yet  the 
 nation  was  still  singularly  feeble  :  the  Temple  was 
 defenceless  ;  the  law  and  the  prophets  were 
 scarcely  known  ;  the  whole  civil  polity  required 
 to  be  fixed  ;  and  the  whole  of  the  national  customs 
 and  principles  were  in  the  most  immediate  need  of 
 purification. 
 
 A  memorable  man  was  now  raised  up,  by  the 
 express  will  of  Heaven,  to  form  and  fix  the  Resto- 
 ration. Ezra,  a  priest,  of  the  line  of  Aaron,  emi- 
 nent in  the  learning  of  the  Scriptures,  a  "  ready 
 scribe  in  the  law  of  Moses,  on  whom  the  hand  of 
 his  God  was^;"  and  who  had  been  "of  the  cap- 
 tivity," came  from  Babylon,  commissioned  for  the 
 various  purposes  of  establishing  the  people,  renew- 
 ing the  sacrifices,  and  "beautifying  the  house  of 
 the  Lord."  In  a  passage  of  ardent  and  noble 
 piety,  he  attributes  this  commission,  and  his  own 
 favour  and  protection  among  the  princes  of  the 
 land,  solely  to  the  good  will  of  Heaven.  "  Bless- 
 ed be  the  Lord  God  of  our  fathers,   which  hath 
 
 '  Ezra  vii.  G. 
 
THE    RESTORATION    OF    JUDAH.  433 
 
 extended  mercy  to  me  before  the  king  and  his 
 counsellors,  and  before  all  the  king's  mighty 
 princes.  And  I  was  strengthened,  as  the  hand  of 
 the  Lord  my  God  was  upon  me\'' 
 
 Thus  called  by  inspiration,  this  distinguished 
 servant  of  God  commenced  the  arduous  work  of 
 establishing  the  true  worship  on  its  final  founda- 
 tion. Crossing  the  desert  without  the  usual  escort, 
 from  a  pure  and  sacred  determination  to  show 
 that  the  power  of  God  alone  was  his  confidence — 
 "  for  he  would  be  ashamed  to  require  of  the  king 
 a  band  of  soldiers  and  horsemen,  because  he  had 
 spoken  unto  the  king,  saying,  '  the  hand  of  our 
 God  is  upon  all  them  for  good  that  seek  him  ;'  " 
 he  and  his  followers  sought  the  stronger  protection 
 of  fasting  and  prayer,  and  reached  Jerusalem  in 
 safety,  (b.c.  457.) 
 
 But  there  his  energy  was  severely  tried.  He 
 found  the  spirit  of  the  Restoration  deeply  per- 
 verted. The  chosen  people  had  lost  the  virtue 
 which  distinguished  them  on  their  first  return,  and 
 had  mingled  with  the  surrounding  heathen  by 
 marriage,  until  they  were  on  the  verge  of  hea- 
 thenism themselves.  Ezra,  with  all  his  courage, 
 almost  despaired.  "The  princes,"  he  patheti- 
 cally tells  us,  "  came  to  me,  saying,  the  people  of 
 Israel,  and  the  priests  and  the  Levites,  have  not 
 separated  themselves  from  the  people  of  the  land, 
 
 '  Ezra  vii.  27,  28. 
 F  f 
 
434  THE  RESTORATION  OF  JUDAH. 
 
 doing  according  to  their  abominations.  For  they 
 have  taken  of  their  daughters  for  themselves  and 
 for  their  sons  ;  yea,  the  hand  of  the  princes  and 
 rulers  have  been  the  chief  in  this  trespass.  And 
 when  I  heard  this  thing,  I  rent  my  garment  and 
 my  mantle."  The  faithful  few  now  came  to  cheer 
 the  desolation  of  their  leader.  And  at  the  even- 
 ing sacrifice  he  prayed  for  the  people,  and  receiv- 
 ing strength,  commanded  the  cessation  of  this 
 guilty  intercourse,  and  was  finall}^  obeyed. 
 
 But  a  new  and  powerful  agency  was  to  be  sum- 
 moned. Nehemiah,  one  of  the  great  officers  of 
 the  Empire,  the  "  King's  cup-bearer,"  an  office 
 of  the  first  rank  and  confidence  ;  grieved  at  the 
 continued  difficulties  of  his  country,  solicited  per- 
 mission to  go  to  Jerusalem,  expressly  "  that  he 
 might  build  it."  He  obtained  the  permission, 
 and  witnessing  the  forlorn  and  exposed  state  of 
 the  city,  repelled  the  scoffs  and  violences  of  the 
 heathen,  and  proceeded  with  his  work  in  the  name 
 of  "  the  God  of  Heaven  !"  His  arrival  at  Jeru- 
 salem as  a  Prince,  and  with  the  troops  and  pomp 
 of  civil  authority,  gave  a  new  impulse  to  the 
 nation.  Employing  himself  chiefly  on  the  civil 
 restoration  of  the  people,  he  built  the  walls  and 
 gates  ;  established  order,  and  forming  the  dwellers 
 in  Jerusalem  into  a  military  force,  enabled  the 
 city  and  temple  to  defy  the  sudden  incursions  of 
 the  heathen.  To  Ezra  was  especially  committed 
 the  more  important  office  of  reinstating  the  national 
 
THE  RESTORATION  OF  JUDAH.  435 
 
 religion.  He  performed  it  with  a  wisdom  and 
 vigour  worthy  of  the  highest  benefit  that  patriot- 
 ism and  piety  can  confer  upon  man.  His  first  act 
 was  to  restore  the  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures. 
 During  the  captivity,  the  Scriptures  had  been 
 forgotten.  The  terror  of  offending  the  pride  of 
 the  Babylonian  priesthood,  or  bringing  down  the 
 lash  of  the  task-master ;  the  ignorance  of  slaves, 
 or  the  despair  of  exiles,  were  alike  natural 
 sources  of  the  disuse  of  the  inspired  volume.  But 
 on  the  return  of  the  people,  a  new  source  of  the 
 evil  was  found  in  the  change  of  the  national 
 tongue.  Nearly  the  whole  living  generation  had 
 been  born  in  the  captivity  ;  the  Chaldee  had 
 become  the  universal  dialect,  and  the  sacred  books 
 were  almost  in  a  dead  language. 
 
 The  popular  voice  was  now  loudly  raised  for  the 
 possession  of  the  Scriptures  once  more.  Ezra 
 brought  them  forward  in  full  assembly  of  "the 
 congregation,  both  men  and  women,"  and,  sur- 
 rounded by  the  princes  or  nobles  of  the  nation, 
 read — "from  a  pulpit  of  wood,  which  they  had 
 made  for  the  purpose,"  the  book  from  morning 
 till  mid-day.  The  communication  was  without 
 restraint — "  And  Ezra  opened  the  book  in  the 
 sight  of  all  the  people,  for  he  was  above  all  the 
 people ;  and  when  he  opened  it,  all  the  people 
 stood  up"  The  volume  was  received  with  solemn 
 and  grateful  veneration. — "  And  Ezra  blessed  the 
 Lord,   the  great  God.     And  all  the  people  an- 
 
 Ff  2 
 
436  THE  RESTORATION  OF  JUDAII. 
 
 swered,  Amen,  with  lifting  up  their  hands ;  and 
 they  bowed  their  heads  and  worshipped  the  Lord, 
 with  their  faces  to  the  ground  \"  He  was  fol- 
 lowed by  priests,  who  translated  the  precepts  into 
 the  vernacular  tongue  : — "  Levites,  who  read  in 
 the  book  of  God  distinctly,  and  gave  the  sense,  and 
 caused  them  to  understand  the  reading  ^"  The 
 day  itself  was  remarkable,  as  the  first  of  the 
 seventh  month,  the  beginning  of  the  civil  year, 
 and  the  Feast  of  Trumpets  '\  It  was  the  fitting 
 day  for  the  announcement  of  a  recovery  that 
 was  yet  to  animate  and  awake  the  world.  But 
 "  the  people  wept  when  they  heard  the  words  of 
 the  law."  Ezra  and  Nehemiah  commanded 
 that  they  should  exhibit  the  rejoicing  of  which 
 such  a  day  was  worthy.— "  They  said  to  them, 
 go  your  way  and  eat  the  fat,  and  drink  the  sweet 
 — neither  be  ye  sorry.  For  this  day  is  holy  unto 
 the  Lord." 
 
 The  first  influence  of  the  revival  of  the  Scrip- 
 tures was  felt  in  an  extraordinary  spirit  of  sacred 
 activity.  Synagogues  were  extensively  built 
 through  the  land.  Religious  instruction  was  vi- 
 gorously spread.  For  the  first  time  in  the  national 
 annals,  the  books  of  the  Mosaic  history  and  law,  in- 
 terpreted into  the  popular  tongue  ^   by  either  the 
 
 '  Nehem.  viii.  4,  &c. 
 
 '  Ibid.  viii.  7,  8.  '  Lev.  xxv.  9. 
 
 *  The  Chaldee  was  so  habitual,  that  the  Book  of  Ezra,  con- 
 sisting only  of  ten  chapters,  is  Chaldee   from  the  Stii  verse  of 
 
THE  RESTORATION  OF  JUDAH.  437 
 
 priest,  or  an  attendant  minister  of  the  synagogue, 
 were  regularly  read  as  a  portion  of  the  service  ; 
 and  places  of  prayer  for  the  solitary  devotion,  so 
 congenial  to  the  habits  of  the  East,  were  erected 
 on  the  sides  of  the  roads,  and  spots  made  memora- 
 ble by  public  events ;  in  which  the  traveller,  or 
 the  man  of  lonely  piety,  might  kneel  surrounded 
 by  the  glorious  scenery  of  hill  and  valley,  with 
 Jerusalem  in  his  horizon,  and  a  still  holier  and 
 more  magnificent  Jerusalem  before  his  mind. 
 
 It  is  equally  matter  of  record,  that  from  this 
 period  commenced  a  striking  enlargement  of 
 the  national  religious  conceptions.  The  pro- 
 phecies were  more  anxiously  searched  for  the 
 promised  coming  of  the  Messiah  ;  the  immor- 
 tality of  the  soul  became  a  more  recognized  and 
 practical  doctrine  ;  and  the  abhorrence  of  idolatry 
 was  conspicuous  and  complete.  When  we  recol- 
 lect the  resistless  national  propensity  of  earlier 
 times,  to  plunge  into  the  deepest  pollutions  of  the 
 worship  of  images  ;  this  sudden,  total,  and  perma- 
 nent change  forms  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
 instances  of  the  power  of  truth  to  purify  tlie  mind. 
 For   the  only    instrumentality  to   which  we  can 
 
 the  4th  to  the  27th  of  the  7th,  with  the  exception  of  some 
 verses  in  the  sixth.  With  the  learned  Jews,  the  languages 
 were  probably  in  equal  use.  But  the  distinction  of  the  people 
 who  "  could  understand,"  from  those  who  required  an  inter- 
 preter, shows  the  prevalence  of  the  Chaldee  among  the  mul- 
 titude. 
 
438  THE    RESTORATION    OF    JUDAH, 
 
 assign  the  change,  is  the  more  habitual  and  public 
 reading  of  the  Scriptures.  The  chains  of  the 
 captivity  might  have  partially  subdued,  or  warned, 
 the  self-willed  spirit  of  the  Jewish  idolator ;  but 
 their  effect  must  have  been  temporary.  Punish- 
 ments and  mercies  are  soon  and  equally  forgotten 
 by  nations.  The  countless  majority  of  the  He- 
 brews had  remained  in  Chaldsea,  neither  softened 
 nor  warned,  and  were  hourly  sinking  more  and 
 more  into  the  Paganism  in  which  they  were  finally 
 and  for  ever  absorbed  ;  while  the  feeble  remnant 
 who  returned  to  Palestine,  less  than  fifty  thousand 
 out  of  the  redundant  population  of  the  twelve 
 tribes,  proclaimed  in  all  succeeding  ages  the  ab- 
 horrence of  idolatry  as  the  characteristic  of  their 
 nation. 
 
 Another  change  existed  in  the  inferior  pomp  of 
 their  worship.  The  temple  itself  was  on  a  dimi- 
 nished scale.  But  not  merely  the  gold  and  jewels 
 which  once  enriched  all  the  instruments  and 
 forms  of  its  worship  were  gone  ;  the  captivity  had 
 deprived  the  national  worship  of  loftier  treasures 
 than  gold  or  jewels — The  ark  of  the  covenant 
 had  been  burned  or  carried  away  in  the  general 
 ruin  by  Nebuchadnezzar  ;  the  Urim  and  Thum- 
 mim,  the  oracular  gems  on  the  high  priest's 
 breastplate  were  irrecoverable  ;  the  sacred  fire  on 
 the  altar  was  extinguished  ;  and  the  Shekinah  ap- 
 peared no  more. 
 
 Yet  it  was  declared  that  the  loss  of  those  superb 
 
 7 
 
THE  RESTORATION  OF  JUDAH.       439 
 
 features  of  reli2:ious  celebration  should  be  more 
 than  compensated  by  the  increased  power  and 
 spirituality  of  religion  itself;  that  the  time  was  ap- 
 proaching, when  all  emblems  must  have  given  way 
 to  reality,  and  that  the  "  glory  of  the  latter  house 
 should  exceed  the  glory  of  the  former."  The  last 
 words  of  the  last  prophet  of  Judah  proclaimed  the 
 high  and  animating  truth,  that  during  its  existence 
 the  Messiah  should  be  born  ;  "  the  Lord  whom 
 ye  seek  shall  suddenly  come  to  his  temple;" — 
 He,  who  in  himself  embodied  all  the  glories  of  the 
 temple  of  their  fathers,  whose  breast  was  the  living 
 oracle,  on  whose  brow  descended  the  divine  splen- 
 dour, whose  heart  was  the  altar  of  the  Divine  fire, 
 whose  words  were  prophecy,  and  whose  blood  was 
 a  covenant  of  peace,  infinite  and  eternal. 
 
 With  Nehemiah,  the  great  names  of  Jewish 
 government  expired  ;  with  Malachi  the  oracle  was 
 closed  ;  its  uses  were  at  an  end  with  the  captivity. 
 As  the  miraculous  gifts  of  the  apostolic  church 
 ceased,  when  the  religion  was  once  firmly  planted 
 among  mankind ;  so  the  lessons  of  prophecy  were 
 withdrawn,  when  the  more  perfect  knowledge  of 
 the  Scriptures,  and  the  more  vigorous  discipline  of 
 the  church,  supplied  at  once  the  consolation  and 
 the  lesson.  So  invariable  is  the  rule  of  Provi- 
 dence, and  so  totally  distinct  from  the  lavishness 
 and  ostentation  of  power,  that  marks  the  vanity  of 
 man. 
 
CHAPTER  XXXV. 
 
 EZRA. 
 
 From  the  dedication  of  the  Temple  to  the  coming 
 of  Ezra,  nearly  fifty-seven  years  had  elapsed ;  dur- 
 ing which  the  national  character  had  been  severely 
 tried  by  the  difficulties  of  its  position.     Palestine 
 was  in  the  possession  of  barbarians,  rendered,  pro- 
 bably, more  hostile  to  the  returned  captives,  by  a 
 mixture  with  apostate  Jews.      But  the  friendship 
 of  the  barbarians  was  to  be  more  fatal  than  their 
 hostility.     As  the  original  corruption  of  the  sons 
 of  Seth  had  been  their  marriages  with  the  daugh- 
 ters of  Cain ;  the  gradual   alliances  of  the  Jews 
 with  the  heathen  masters  of  Palestine  threatened 
 rapidly  to  degrade  them  into  the  morals  of  hea- 
 thenism.    Ezra's  strongest  declarations  were  pro- 
 nounced against  this  guilty  neglect  of  the  Divine 
 command ;  and,  as  the  most  essential  step  to  na- 
 tional safety  or  Divine  favour,  he  enforced  the  im- 
 mediate abandonment  of  this   dangerous  affinity. 
 After  twelve  years  of  thus  sustaining  the  morals 
 and  religion  of  the  people,  Nehemiah  had  come, 
 
EZRA.  441 
 
 to  establish  their  polity,  and  give  them  a  solid 
 footing  among  nations.  But  the  most  important 
 transaction  of  his  life,  the  public  interpretation 
 and  translation  of  the  Scriptures,  was  reserved  for 
 this  period  when,  relieved  from  the  immediate 
 cares  of  authority  by  Nehemiah,  he  was  at  lei- 
 sure to  study  and  propagate  the  Divine  record. 
 The  public  delivery  of  the  Scriptures  on  the  Day 
 of  Trumpets  was  in  the  presence  of  Nehemiah  ; 
 and  from  that  time  may  be  dated  the  great  work 
 which  the  Jews  refer  to  his  labours — the  collec- 
 tion of  all  the  Sacred  Books  into  one  volume,  the 
 purification  of  the  Copies,  and  the  original  forma- 
 tion of  the  Canon  of  Scripture'.  He  died  full  of 
 years  ^;  and  honoured  by  his  country,  as  a  second 
 Moses,  a  new  leader  from  Egyptian  darkness  into 
 a  light  that  was  to  be  extinguished  no  more. 
 
 But  the  people  required  constant  vigilance. 
 Nehemiah  had  scarcely  returned  to  the  Persian 
 court,  when  they  relapsed  into  the  prohibited 
 intercourse  ;  he  resumed  the  government,  pressed 
 
 *  The  great  business  effected  by  Ezra  was  his  collecting  and 
 setting  forth  a  correct  edition  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  Of  this 
 both  Jews  and  Christians  allow  him  the  honour."— Piidcaux. 
 
 The  books  of  Malachi,  Nehemiah,  Esther,  and  Ezra  himself, 
 were  subsequently  added,  as  it  is  supposed,  by  Simon  the  Just : 
 thus  completing  the  Canon. 
 
 '  Ezra  died  at  the  age  of  120;  and  is  said  by  Josephus 
 (Antiq.  s.  xi.)  to  have  been  buried  at  Jerusalem  ;  but,  by  the 
 Jews  in  general  (B.  Tudela),  to  have  both  died  and  been  buried 
 in  Persia,  where  his  tomb  is  still  an  object  of  veneration. 
 
44-2  EZRA. 
 
 upon  the  people  the  terrors  of  alienating  the 
 Divine  support ;  the  religious  impurity  of  kin- 
 dred with  the  worshippers  of  idols ;  and  the 
 national  impolicy  of  humbling  the  strength  of 
 Judah  by  alliance  with  communities  essentially 
 hostile  to  her  being.  His  remonstrances  pre- 
 vaile.d.  The  princes,  priesthood,  and  general 
 community,  freed  themselves  from  the  Pagan 
 stain,  chose  wives  of  their  own  nation,  and 
 solemnly  renewed  their  pledge  to  the  strict 
 observance  of  their  religion  in  its  original  purity. 
 But  the  vow  was  soon  broken,  and  the  people 
 •were  to  be  taught  once  more  the  will,  by  the  wrath, 
 of  Heaven. 
 
 Ezra  and  Nehemiah  had  gone  to  their  reward. 
 From  this  period  the  government  devolved  into 
 the  hands  of  the  High  Priests,  under  the  general 
 government  of  the  Persian  empire.  For  ages,  no 
 temporal  viceroy  governed  Judah.  The  forms, 
 at  least,  of  the  revived  religion  were  observed 
 with  scrupulous  exactness.  Judah  flourished ; 
 and  though  she  never  reached  the  power  of  her 
 kingly  state,  nor  the  old  pomp  of  her  national  wor- 
 ship, she  lived  in  comparative  security. 
 
 But  the  fatal  habit  of  intermarriage  with  the 
 Heathen,  had  never  been  wholly  extirpated  ;  and 
 with  the  gradual  relaxation  of  her  public  virtue, 
 the  habit  became  general.  The  offence  of  those 
 marriages  was,  that  they  necessarily  tended  to 
 degrade  the  religious  inheritance  of  the  true  wor- 
 
EZRA.  443 
 
 shipper.  The  Jew  who  wedded  a  Pagan  wife, 
 necessarily  proved  by  the  act,  that  his  abhorrence 
 of  the  spirit  of  Paganism  was  extinguished  ;  that 
 lie  no  longer  looked  upon  the  abominations  of  the 
 Heathen  as  offensive  to  the  dignity  of  religion  ; 
 and  that  he  was  prepared  to  commute,  bend,  or 
 compromise,  the  faith  of  his  fathers,  at  the  first 
 call  made  upon  him  by  convenience,  policy,  or 
 the  passions.  It  is  remarkable,  that  the  preva- 
 lence of  the  habit,  though  it  must  have  involved 
 many  of  the  people  finally  in  the  crime  of  the 
 idol  worshippers,  yet  seems  to  have  at  no  time 
 brought  the  worship  formally  into  Judah.  The 
 Divine  inflictions  fell  on  them,  not  for  idolatry, 
 but  evidently  for  their  gross  disregard  of  the  noble 
 privilege  exclusively  conferred  upon  their  nation  ; 
 for  their  venal  insensibility  to  the  matchless  value 
 of  the  gift;  and  for  the  sensual  and  worldly  neglect 
 with  which  they  exposed  to  a  polluted  contact  the 
 sacred  possession  confided  to  them  for  the  future 
 regeneration  of  man. 
 
 But  though  the  sweeping  punishment  was  long 
 deferred,  strong  indications  of  the  Divine  displea- 
 sure were  given  at  an  early  period.  Schism  vexed 
 the  land.  To  the  astonishment  of  the  Jew,  a  rival 
 Temple  was  seen  rising  on  Mount  Gerizim  in 
 Samaria,  and  a  sect  was  there  formed,  inveterately 
 hostile  to  Jerusalem.  A  third  Temple  subsequently 
 rose  in  Alexandria,  which  the  Jew  of  Sion  treated 
 with  scorn,    and   which  retaliated  with  defiance. 
 
444  EZRA. 
 
 Large  portions  of  the  national  church  were  thus 
 lopped  away ;  while  the  vigour  of  the  remainder 
 was  decaying  into  weak  submission,  or  its  spirit 
 chilling  into  crude  formality ;  personal  ambition 
 began  to  mingle  with  its  government,  and  even  the 
 temple  was  stained  with  the  murder  of  the  high 
 priest.  Still  the  horizon  gave  no  sign  of  the  thun- 
 ders, that  once  would  have  instantly  followed  and 
 avenged  the  violation. 
 
 In  the  history  of  Providence  we  are  constantly 
 struck  with  the  exhaustless  variety  of  means.  No 
 conjecture  can  fix  the  instruments  with  which  it 
 exercises  either  its  justice  or  its  mercy.  The  pre- 
 servation is  sometimes  by  the  sudden  summons  of 
 champions  from  the  depths  of  society,  those  gifted 
 sons  of  genius  and  fortune,  whomove  like  a  guiding 
 flame  in  front  of  the  nation,  and  who  at  once  shed 
 splendour  on  its  track,  and  consume  and  wither 
 all  before  them.  It  is  sometimes  by  breathing  a 
 sudden  energy  of  feeling  and  generous  interest  into 
 the  surrounding  nations,  which  had  looked  indo- 
 lently on  the  sufferings  of  the  state,  and  interpose 
 only  to  snatch  it  from  the  scaffold.  The  punish- 
 ments too  are  sometimes  from  nature,  sometimes 
 from  man  ;  from  the  earthquake,  from  the  hostile 
 sword,  from  the  suicidal  hand  of  faction.  The 
 modes  of  imperial  death  have  been  as  marked  and 
 various  as  the  diseases  of  the  human  frame. 
 The  great  Assyrian  monarchy  sinks  by  a  slow 
 complication  of  evils,   which   waste  it    down  al- 
 
EZRA. 
 
 445 
 
 most  insensibly  to  the  grave.  Others,  as  if  they 
 had  swallowed  a  draught  of  poison,  perish  by  a 
 sudden  exasperation  of  the  powers  of  life,  giving  a 
 frenzied  vigour  to  their  few  remaining  hours, 
 and  then  extinguishing  them  at  a  pang.  The 
 reliques  of  some  are  left  to  moulder  before  the 
 human  eye,  like  the  skeleton  of  a  malefactor  for 
 the  moral  of  his  crimes.  Others,  like  the  Mace- 
 donian empire,  are  torn  asunder  on  the  field,  to 
 gorge  the  w^olves  of  war.  The  Persian  dies,  like  a 
 monarch  slain  on  his  throne,  in  his  royal  robes,  in 
 the  midst  of  his  hereditary  pomp,  and  slain  by  the 
 single  blow  of  a  daring  adversary.  The  Roman 
 dies,  like  a  gladiator  in  the  arena,  brought  out  de- 
 spairingly to  fight  against  wild  beasts,  or  men  as 
 wild,  until  he  is  worn  down  by  successive  combats, 
 and  bleeds  aw  ay  life  amid  the  roar  of  barbarians. 
 
 But  no  conjecture  has  ever  been  empowered  to 
 anticipate  the  form  of  the  weapon  with  which  the 
 national  death  is  to  be  given.  A  cloud  rests  on 
 the  Divine  operation.  No  eye  of  man,  or  perhaps 
 of  beings  higher  than  man,  has  seen  the  growing 
 shape,  in  which  vengeance  finally  comes  forth  to 
 the  world. 
 
 Of  all  nations,  Greece  was  the  last  to  which 
 conjecture  could  have  looked  for  the  good  or  evil 
 of  Judaea.  Near  as  their  position  was,  the  strong 
 diversities  of  circumstance  and  character  had 
 fixed  them  half  the  globe  asunder.  No  con- 
 ceivable distinction  could  be  more  total,  than  that 
 
446  EZRA. 
 
 between  the  proud  austerity  of  the  Jew,  and  the 
 flexible  elegance  and  restless  sportiveness  of  the 
 Greek;  between  the  habits  of  the  man  who  scorned 
 commerce,  and  the  universal  wanderer  of  the 
 seas ;  and,  above  all,  between  the  solemn  wor- 
 shipper of  the  majesty  of  Jehovah  in  his  single 
 temple,  and  the  festive,  loose,  and  luxurious 
 offerer  of  incense  to  a  thousand  Deities,  on  a 
 thousand  hills — the  idolator  of  nature. 
 
 The  Heathen  intercourse,  against  which  the 
 restorers  of  Judah  had  protested,  down  to  the 
 tomb ;  began  to  produce  its  natural  effects,  within 
 a  few  years.  Nothing  could  be  less  startling,  or 
 more  insidious,  than  the  advances  of  the  tempta- 
 tion. By  a  singular  coincidence  with  the  earliest 
 of  human  trials,  the  actual  temptation  was 
 knowledge.  The  Jew,  to  whom  all  the  other 
 "  fruits  of  the  garden"  had  been  given  in  muni- 
 ficent possession,  suddenly  and  strangely  began 
 to  covet  this  distempered  and  distempering  source 
 of  evil.  Yet  the  religion  of  the  chosen  people 
 had  not  shut  them  out  from  any  portion  of  human 
 acquirement,  which  belonged  to  the  elevation  and 
 purity  of  the  mind.  No  illiberal  love  of  ignorance 
 could  have  been  prescribed  among  the  subjects  of 
 the  great  king  "  who  spake  of  trees,  from  the 
 cedar  that  is  in  Lebanon,  even  to  the  hyssop  that 
 springeth  out  of  the  wall  ;"  and  who  "  spake  also 
 of  beasts,  and  of  fowls,  of  creeping  things,  and 
 fishes ;"  who  conversed  with  the  elements  and  the 
 
EZRA.  447 
 
 stars ;  who  searched  the  channels  and  recesses  of 
 the  human  heart,  until  he  sat  as  a  living  oracle  to 
 the  East,  and  "there  came  of  all  people  to  hear 
 the  wisdom  of  Solomon  from  all  kings  of  the 
 earth';"  who  filled  the  temple-service  with  the 
 sublimest  poetry  ;  of  whom  the  sages  of  his  coun- 
 try, with  exulting  reverence,  pronounced  that 
 "He  was  a  flood  filled  with  understanding,  that 
 his  soul  covered  the  earth,  and  that  he  filled  it 
 with  dark  parables';"  to  whose  court  all  the 
 learned  of  the  Orientals  came  with  presents,  "  to 
 hear  his  wisdom^;"  of  whom  the  Deity  himself 
 declared — "  I  have  given  thee  a  wise  and  under- 
 standing heart  * ;"  and  who  has  bequeathed  to  the 
 last  posterity  an  evidence  of  himself,  in  those  lofty 
 and  eloquent,  though  melancholy,  maxims,  the 
 gathered  wisdom  of  a  life  of  thought,  which 
 throw  all  the  philosophy  of  Paganism  into  the 
 shade  ^ 
 
 '  1  Kings  iv.  34.  '  Eccles.  xlvii.  14,  15. 
 
 3  1  Kings  X.  24.  ^  Ibid.  iii.  12. 
 
 ^  The  traditions  of  the  magical  power  of  Solomon,  still  extant 
 in  the  East,  are  well  known.  But  they  have  evidently  had  an 
 earlier  source  than  the  fancy  of  the  Arabians  under  the  Caliphate, 
 to  whom  Europe  owes  so  many  picturesque  and  dazzling  fictions. 
 Those  traditions  were  prevalent  among  the  Jews  long  before  the 
 fall  of  Jerusalem,  and  wpre  probably  the  result  of  that  unhappy 
 mixture  of  Greek  philosophy  with  the  Scriptures,  which  was  the 
 last  corruption  of  Judaeism,  and  the  first  of  Christianity.  Jose- 
 phus  (Antiq,  s.  viii.)  states  the  attempt  of  a  Jew,  in  the 
 presence  of  Vespasian,  to  exorcise  demons  by  a  talisman  con- 
 taining the  name  of  Solomon. 
 
448  EZRA. 
 
 The  settlement  of  the  Jews  on  the  Nile,  which 
 seems  to  have  commenced  shortly  after  the  cap- 
 tivity, had  infected  them  with  the  fantasies  of 
 Egypt.  The  land  of  the  transmigration  of  souls, 
 and  the  perpetuity  of  the  dead  ;  in  which  every 
 man  sat  surrounded  by  his  ancestors  in  their 
 shrouds,  and  even  every  banquet  had  its  crowned 
 skeleton,  to  remind  the  feasters  that  they  were  but 
 passing  to  the  tomb  ;  the  land  of  embalmment, 
 cavern-temples,  and  catacombs;  where  the  climate 
 breathed  aridity  and  abstraction,  and  the  mind 
 was  stifled  with  the  clouds  of  Indian  mysticism  ; 
 must  have,  at  length,  made  its  impress  on  the 
 mind  of  the  settlers.  Their  intercourse  with  their 
 brethren  in  Palestine  naturally  communicated 
 those  errors  ;  the  fatal  intermarriages  had  there 
 already  broken  down  the  sacred  horror  of  heathen- 
 ism, which  was  the  national  rampart  against  its 
 corruptions  :  and  the  sullen  and  perverting  tradi- 
 tions of  the  Egyptian  mythology  began  to  steal  upon 
 the  follower  of  the  Law.  But  another  trial  w^as 
 to  come.  If  Satan  ever  took  the  shape  of  an  angel 
 of  light,  it  was  then.  Instead  of  the  simple  and 
 formal  shape  of  Oriental  or  African  mysticism, 
 the  deceiver  was  now  one  of  matchless  allure- 
 ment. 
 
 The  erection  of  Egypt  into  a  kingdom  by  the 
 Ptolemies,  had  thrown  it  open  to  the  whole  litera- 
 ture and  pliilosophy  of  the  West.  Greece  was  the 
 deceiver.     Her   customs,    more   elegant,   yet  not 
 
EZRA.  449 
 
 less  licentious,  than  those  of  the  East;  her  bril- 
 liant voluptuousness,  and  her  subtle,  yet  bewilder- 
 ing, science,  rendered  her  irresistible  by  the 
 loosely  guarded,  and  already  half-seduced,  spirit 
 of  the  Jew.  Pleasure  assuming  the  stateliness  of 
 philosophy,  and  philosophy  assuming  the  grace 
 of  pleasure,  were  the  true  idols  of  the  Greek  : 
 and  while  he  bowed  alike  before  Jove  and  Venus, 
 he  worshipped  the  genius  of  enjoyment  alone. 
 The  Jew  sank  beneath  the  temptation,  and  was 
 undone. 
 
 We  are  too  imperfectly  furnished  with  the  de- 
 tails of  the  period,  to  be  able  to  trace,  step  by 
 step,  the  progress  of  this  extraordinary  secession 
 from  the  principles  of  the  national  faith.  Yet  are 
 we  to  lament  that  it  has  been  forbidden  to  us  to 
 see  the  successive  stabs  which  drained  the  heart's 
 blood  of  the  most  illustrious  of  all  nations  ;  or  to 
 remove  that  providential  mantle  of  time  and  dark- 
 ness, which  hides  its  dislionour  from  the  scoffs 
 and  contumelies  of  the  infidel  ?  But  whatever 
 were  the  progress,  the  end  is  fully  known.  A 
 strange  thirst  of  foreign  customs  and  distinc- 
 tions suddenly  fevered  the  body  of  the  people. 
 Greece  became  the  universal  model.  Yet  not  in 
 her  actual  idolatry  :  for  though  individuals  fell 
 away,  the  majority  of  the  nation  seem  never  to 
 have  abjured  the  national  altar.  At  length  the 
 evil   brouglit  its   practical    effect.      The    people, 
 
450  EZRA. 
 
 corrupted  by  the  vices  of  the  foreign  armies, 
 and  dazzled  by  the  pomps  of  the  foreign  princes, 
 who  made  their  profligate  and  showy  transits 
 through  the  land,  sank  into  the  grossnesses  of 
 heathen  life.  Multitudes  abandoned  the  ob- 
 servance of  the  Temple  worship ;  though  they 
 might  not  have  adopted  the  Pagan  rites  in  its 
 room.  Profligate  ambition  began  to  develope 
 itself  in  the  higher  ranks.  When  every  surround- 
 ing throne  was  contested  by  the  sword,  and  when 
 corruption  and  the  dagger  were  the  legitimate 
 weapons  of  victory,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at 
 that  the  spectators  should  at  last  mingle  in  the 
 conflict,  and  display  their  knowledge  of  the  prin- 
 ciples by  their  share  in  the  crimes.  Blood  be- 
 gan to  be  spilled  in  the  factions  of  Jerusalem. 
 The  Circe,  which  had  only  fascinated  their 
 imaginations,  now  domineered  over  their  appe- 
 tites. The  enchantress  was  now  the  tyrant. 
 Greece,  abandoning  her  seductions,  stood  before 
 the  nation  a  merciless  and  sanguinary  figure, 
 brandishing  the  scourge  over  the  criminals  in 
 whom  her  cup  had  extinguished  the  lineaments  of 
 human  nature.  The  people,  sunk  in  national 
 degradation,  and  wasted  with  universal  misery  by 
 the  wars  of  Syria  and  Egypt,  of  which  their  un- 
 happy country  was  the  constant  field,  were  at 
 length  compelled  to  adopt  the  habits  which  they 
 had   once  so  guiltily  tolerated.     They  had   once 
 
EZRA,  451 
 
 envied  the  Greeks  their  games ;  numbers  of  the 
 Jewish  youth  had  felt  themselves  scandalized  by 
 the  initiatory  rite  of  their  religion ;  the  painted 
 and  theatric  attractions  of  the  Greek  altar  had 
 been  contrasted  with  the  severe,  though  magnifi- 
 cent, formalities  of  the  national  worship  ;  every 
 act  of  this  guilty  shame  was  successively  avenged. 
 
 At  length,  Joshua,  the  brother  of  Onias,  the 
 high  priest,  lighted  the  pile  which  Judah  had 
 been  so  long  gathering  with  her  own  hands.  Am- 
 bitious of  his  brother's  office,  he  intrigued  against 
 him  ;  expelled  him,  and  robed  in  the  garb  of  holi- 
 ness, commenced  his  career  of  iniquity.  Having 
 purchased  his  office  with  a  vast  sum  sent  to  the 
 Syrian  court,  what  he  had  obtained  by  one  act  of 
 corruption  he  determined  to  secure  by  another. 
 His  bribe  to  power  was  followed  by  a  fatal  bribe 
 to  popularity.  He  openly  made  Greece  his  stand- 
 ard, changed  his  name  from  that  of  the  most  ho- 
 noured leader  of  Israel,  after  Moses,  to  that  of 
 the  hero  of  fable,  from  Joshua  to  Jason  ;  built  a 
 theatre  for  Greek  games ;  and  countenanced  every 
 innovation  of  the  idolator. 
 
 Public  corruption  was  now  irrestrainable ;  the 
 law  was  scorned  ;  the  temple  service  openly  neg- 
 lected ;  the  priests'  offices  were  set  up  for  sale. 
 The  horror  of  the  faithful  few  who  still  remem- 
 bered the  covenant,  was  to  be  further  raised  by 
 the   apostate's    sending  an    avowed    and   formal 
 
 G^  2 
 
452  EZRA. 
 
 contribution  to  the  shrine  of  the  Tyrian  Hercules  ! 
 Nothing  could  be  done  to  increase  the  horror,  but 
 the  planting  of  the  Olympian  Jove  in  the  temple  ; 
 and  it  was  done.  But  vengeance  dire  and  awful 
 was  at  hand. 
 
CHAPTER    XXXVl 
 
 THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE. 
 
 No  feature  is  more  distinguishable  in  the  history  of 
 Judaea,  than  the  frequent  presence  of  some  signal 
 effort  of  Heaven  to  awake  her  on  the  eve  of  pu- 
 nishment, or  to  counteract  the  results  of  her  crime 
 for  the  benefit  of  mankind.  The  time  was  draw- 
 ing nigh  when  Judah  was  to  feel  heavy  retribu- 
 tion. But  in  the  long  and  desperate  sufferings 
 through  which  she  was  to  pass  to  her  final  hour, 
 the  Scriptures,  of  which  she  was  the  sole  deposit- 
 ary, might  be  exposed  to  the  hazard  of  extinction. 
 The  savage  Syrian  or  profligate  Greek,  the  hosts 
 of  licentious  mercenaries  who  were  yet  to  make  a 
 prey  of  the  land,  or  the  tyrannical  sovereigns  who 
 were  to  load  it  with  chains,  must  be  but  contemp- 
 tuous preservers  of  her  religion.  It  was  the  will  of 
 Providence  that  the  sacred  volume  should  now  be 
 taken  from  the  exclusive  keeping  of  the  Jew,  and 
 committed  to  the  keeping  of  the  world.  Yet  the 
 widest  diffusion  of  the  Hebrew  copies  could  not 
 
454  THE    GREEK    LANGUAGE. 
 
 have   accomplished  this  diffusion  of  their  know- 
 ledge. 
 
 The  language  had  received  a  death-blow  by  the 
 captivity  ;  the  Chaldee  had  become  the  popular 
 substitute.  The  Syriac,  the  language  of  those 
 powerful  dynasties  with  which  Judah  was  to  hold 
 such  long  and  anxious  connection,  finally  super- 
 seded the  Chaldee.  Thus  the  Hebrew  perished 
 without  hope  of  revival.  Its  study  was  thence- 
 forth limited  to  the  priesthood  and  the  learned. 
 Thus  the  nation  was  successively  divested  of  all 
 that  formed  its  superiority ;  the  ship  was  going 
 down,  and  the  mariners  flung  their  treasures  over- 
 board, until  they  followed  them  ;  or,  like  captives 
 on  the  field,  they  surrendered  their  successive 
 ornaments,  until  they  could  surrender  nothing  but 
 what  left  them  naked,  and  undistinguishable  from 
 the  other  sufferers  and  slaves  of  misfortune.  For 
 the  jargon  of  barbarians  we  can  have  no  feeling. 
 Every  extinction  of  the  dialects  of  savages  by  the 
 invasion  of  a  more  civilized  tongue,  is  an  advance 
 of  mankind.  It  is  a  rescue  of  so  much  of  the 
 productive  soil  from  weedy  entanglement  and 
 noxious  fertility.  No  boldness  of  tradition,  no 
 stamp  of  national  character,  no  casual  grace  of 
 lano-uage,  can  retrieve  them ;  more  than  the  chance 
 aspirings  of  the  weed,  or  the  passing  fragrance  of 
 its  bloom,  can  forbid  the  hand  of  extirpation.  But 
 we  feel  differently  when  we  look  upon  the  national 
 fall  of  a  great  language,   like   the   Hebrew.     Wc 
 
THE    GREEK    LANGUAGE.  455 
 
 may  well  regret,  that  among  the  trivial,  meagre, 
 and  common-place  crowd  of  dialects  that  still 
 make  Europe  a  Babel,  we  cannot  see  the  hoary 
 majesty  of  the  language  of  inspiration  raising  its 
 honoured  head  from  the  dust,  moving  in  its  native 
 grandeur  above  the  multitude,  and  with  the  voice, 
 reminding  us  of  the  times,  of  Jewish  glory  and  vir- 
 tue. Or,  if  this  renewal  be  unfitted  for  our  day; 
 if  the  songs  of  Sion  are  not  to  be  sung  beside  the 
 waters  of  Babylon  ;  and  we  are  never  to  hear  the 
 rich  and  holy  harmonies  of  Isaiah,  the  tones  that 
 wept  from  Jeremiah's  harp,  or  the  stormy  supre- 
 macy, the  swell  of  wrath,  terror,  and  wonder,  that 
 Ezekiel  struck  from  his  string,  as  if  it  were  swept 
 by  the  whirlwind,  and  made  living  by  the  light- 
 nings ;  must  we  not  hope  that  this  extinction  is  not 
 to  be  final  ?  that  in  times  when  the  guilt  of  Judah 
 shall  be  purified,  this  last  vestige  of  the  chain 
 shall  be  cleared  away  ?  that  when  she  shall  cease 
 to  be  the  dweller  in  all  lands,  and  the  denizen  of 
 none ;  with  a  fixed  home  she  may  have  a  fixed 
 language  ?  that  the  great  ancestral  tongue  shall 
 be  loosed,  by  the  same  miracle  which  breaks  down 
 her  prison  gates  ?  that  the  Oracle  of  her  fathers 
 shall  lie  in  its  ruins  no  more  ;  that  the  fount  which, 
 like  the  rock  struck  by  Moses,  had  poured  out  the 
 living  waters  for  the  first  wanderers  of  the  wilder- 
 ness, shall  not  be  dry  for  ever,  or  lie  out  of  the 
 track  of  human  life  ;  but  shall  stream  again  in 
 the  days  when   "  the  wilderness  shall  blossom  as 
 
456  THE    GREEK    LANGUAGE. 
 
 the  rose  ?"  that  with  the  return  of  the  golden  days 
 of  Paradise,  the  language  of  Paradise  shall  live 
 
 ^  The  claim  of  the  "  Original  Language"  admits  of  no  doubt; 
 if  every  feature  of  originality  combined  can  give  the  distinction  to 
 the  Hebrew.  Sir  William  Jones  (Dissert,  of  the  Asiat.  S.J  sup- 
 poses the  first  language  to  have  been  lost,  and  to  have  branched 
 out  into  three  dialects,  correspondent  to  the  three  sons  of  Noah. 
 But  for  this  we  have  no  historical  testimony ;  and  against  it  we 
 have  the  facts — that  in  Hebrew  are  written  the  two  oldest  books 
 in  the  world,  Job  and  the  Pentateuch  ; — that  the  Hehrew  names 
 of  animals  are  strikingly  descriptive,  wliich  nearly  proves  that 
 they  were  unborrowed  ; — that  the  names  of  places  are  also 
 strikingly  descriptive ; — by  a  stronger  evidence  still,  that  the 
 names  of  nearly  all  the  nations  of  the  ancient  world  were  dis- 
 tinctly drawn  from  the  Hebrew,  as  the  names  of  the  sons  of 
 Noah  and  their  immediate  posterity ;  the  lonians  from  Javan  ; 
 Assyrians  from  Asshur ;  Medians  from  Medai ;  Cimmerians 
 from  Gomer,  &c. ;  the  names  of  the  great  settlers,  thus  Japetus 
 from  Japhet ;  Hammon  from  Ham.  The  names  of  their  gods 
 — Jove  from  Jehovah;  Vulcan  from  Tubalcain. —  Walton.  Pro- 
 leg.  3. — Sharpe  on  Orig.  of  Language,  Sj-c. 
 
 By  a  still  stronger  evidence,  the  names  of  the  post-diluvian 
 patriarchs  are  expressive  and  predictive  in  Hebrew,  which  they 
 are  not  in  any  other  language  (except  in  some  instances  of  the 
 Arabic — a  language  which  is  itself  supposed  to  have  been  car- 
 ried from  the  first  settlements  of  the  Noachida;  into  Arabia  by 
 Joktan).  We  thus  ascend  to  the  Deluge  ;  but  we  have  the 
 same  reason  for  supposing  that  the  language  of  Noah  was  that 
 of  his  ancestors;  viz.  that  the  names  of  the  ante-diluvians,  of 
 both  the  lines  of  Seth  and  Cain,  are  expressive  and  predictive, 
 each  actually  containing  a  series  of  pr()])hecies  applicable  in  no 
 other  language,  and  thus  identifying  it  witli  the  original  dialect 
 of  mankind,  the  language  of  Paradise. 
 
THE    GREEK    LANGUAGE.  457 
 
 But  if  the  study  of  the  Scriptures  was  on  the 
 point  of  perishing  in  their  native  land,  what  hope 
 could  exist  of  its  adoption  in  the  West?  The 
 European  mind  was  fully  occupied  with  its  own 
 impulses.  While  a  succession  of  the  finest  order  of 
 intellects  exhibited  their  powers,  as  in  a  perpetual 
 amphitheatre  ;  with  Greece,  or  mankind,  for  their 
 witnesses ;  was  it  conceivable  that  the  spectators 
 of  those  splendid  and  animating  games  would 
 turn  their  eyes  to  the  empty  arena  of  Palestine, 
 to  trophies  deserted  by  their  own  champions,  the 
 obsolete  triumphs  of  a  decaying  people  ?  The 
 idiom  of  the  Oriental  tongues  involved  difficulties 
 which  have  always  peculiarly  baffled  the  skill  of 
 the  West ;  for  nothing  less  can  account  for  the 
 extraordinary  rareness  of  Oriental  allusions  in 
 classic  literature  \  There  was  no  deficiency  of 
 intercourse ;  the  Greek  traded  actively  with 
 Egypt ;  fought  gallantly  and  often  in  Asia  Minor; 
 and  intrigued,  with  the  indefatigable  corruption  of 
 his  nature,  at  the  court  of  the  "  m-eat  kins:." 
 Yet  neither  his  polity,  laws,  nor  religion,  reflect 
 more  than  the  most  transient  imao-e  of  the  East. 
 Even  his  poetry,  which  so  delighted  to  catch  every 
 hue  of  art  and  nature,  and  fix  them  in  those  forms 
 of  grace  and  essential  beauty  which  even  in  their 
 fragments  vindicate  Greece  in  her  grave  ;  owes  but 
 
 '  A  view  of  the  "  Connection"  of  sacred  literature  ^ntli  the 
 classics  is  due  to  the  present  Bishop  of  Bristol ;  a  performance 
 at  once  elegant  and  learned. 
 
458  THE    GREEK    LANGUAGE. 
 
 little  to  the  East.  Yet  what  noble  resources  were 
 thus  neglected  ;  what  a  fount  was  ready  in  Judaea 
 to  pour  forth  its  golden-sanded  stream  ;  what  a 
 treasure  of  soaring  thoughts,  divine  dreams,  and 
 burning  visions,  was  there  waiting  for  his  touch  ; 
 what  a  blaze  of  supernatural  glory  would  have 
 flashed  on  his  eye  at  the  first  opening  of  the  por- 
 tals of  Sacred  Song  ! 
 
 The  question  of  the  language  into  which  the 
 Scriptures  should  be  transferred  ;  a  question  which 
 half  a  century  before  would  have  been  one  of  ex- 
 treme doubt,  was  now  capable  of  decision  at  once. 
 The  conquests  of  Alexander  within  that  period 
 had  spread  the  Grecian  tongue  from  the  Propontis 
 to  the  Euphrates,  and  from  the  Euphrates  to  the 
 Nile.  The  language,  hitherto  but  slightly  known 
 beyond  the  borders  of  the  Mediterranean,  was 
 carried  with  the  Macedonian  banners  to  the  heart 
 of  Asia.  Greek  had  become  the  universal  dialect 
 of  the  crowd  of  courts  which  started  up  out  of  the 
 fragments  of  that  vast  and  brilliant  empire,  all 
 adopting  its  model,  like  buildings  fashioned  out  of 
 the  ruins  of  some  colossal  palace,  overthrown  by 
 an  earthquake.  From  the  language  of  the  courts 
 it  naturally  became  the  language  of  the  whole 
 circle  of  delegated  authority,  generals,  governors, 
 mao-istrates,  and  chiefs  of  colonies.  Transmitted 
 into  Greek,  the  Scriptures  thus  received  an  extent 
 which  placed  them  beyond  the  chances  of  nations, 
 a  publicity  which  opened  them  to  every  people  of 
 
 7 
 
THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE.  459 
 
 the  civilized  world,  and  a  duration  connected 
 with  the  existence  of  a  language  which  will  last, 
 while  man  has  feeling  or  memory  for  the  richest 
 expression  of  the  uninspired  mind. 
 
 A  glance  at  the  history  of  the  Greek  language 
 might  form  no  feeble  illustration  of  the  succes- 
 sive aspects  impressed  on  a  national  speech — 
 by  the  influx  of  new  tribes — b}^  the  locality  of  the 
 settlers — by  colonization — by  foreign  intercourse 
 — by  change  of  government — and,  lastly,  by  na- 
 tional decay. 
 
 So  far  as  we  can  trace  the  form  of  a  people, 
 through  the  clouds  which  cover  the  earlier  ages 
 of  all  heathenism,  the  Pelasgi,  whose  name  ex- 
 hibits their  connexion  with  the  patriarch  of  the 
 division,  a  branch  of  the  great  emigration  from 
 Asia,  were  the  first  who  settled  in  the  west. 
 Their  Asiatic  tono;ue  accounts  for  the  remainino- 
 resemblances  of  Greek  to  the  general  Shemitic 
 languages.  But  a  new  invasion,  also  from  the 
 East,  the  Hellenistic,  scattered  the  ancient  settlers, 
 confused  their  language,  and  founded  the  peculiar 
 dialect  which  was  to  become  so  renowned. 
 
 The  locality  next  divided  the  language.  The 
 mountaineers  of  the  Pindus  ^poke  with  the  rough 
 intonation,  which  characterizes  the  speech  of  the 
 districts  of  storm  and  sterility  in  every  region  of 
 
460  THE  GREEK  LANGUAGE. 
 
 the  globe.  Their  descendants,  gradually  spread- 
 ing over  the  plains  at  their  feet,  spoke  their  lan- 
 guage with  a  softened  inflection.  The  settlers  on 
 the  sea-shore,  enjoying  a  still  more  genial  climate, 
 a  softer  country,  and  a  more  animating  and  pro- 
 ductive intercourse  with  the  world,  rapidly  made 
 themselves  masters  of  a  language  polished,  dex- 
 trous, and  expressive,  to  the  highest  degree  of 
 national  cultivation.  Thus  seem  to  have  been 
 successively  formed  the  Doric,  the  ^olic,  and  the 
 Attic.  A  fourth  shape  was  given  to  this  fine  and 
 flexible  speech,  directly  resulting  from  location. 
 The  Greeks  of  Asia  Minor  had,  with  national 
 taste,  planted  their  settlements  in  the  most  deli- 
 cious territory  of  the  world;  the  highway  of  the 
 richest  commerce ;  the  garden  of  the  East,  and 
 abundant  in  all  the  sources  of  national  happi- 
 ness and  fame.  Their  dialect  bears  characteristic 
 richness,  grace,  and  grandeur.  Ionia  was  the 
 parent  of  the  earliest  and  the  most  commanding 
 Greek  literature.  The  country,  or  the  school, 
 of  Thales,  Hesiod,  Herodotus,  Alca^us,  and 
 Sappho  ;  it  has  left  a  still  loftier  monument  in 
 the  genius  of  the  Iliad,  the  perfection  of  human 
 power. 
 
 Colonization  had  borne  the  Pelasgic  into  Italy, 
 and  there  showed  its  force,  in  transmuting  the 
 ancient  Shemitic  tongue  by  a  mixture  of  the 
 Etruscan,  and  other  dialects  of  Central  Italy,  into 
 the  Latin.      Such,  at  least,  is  the  conjecture. 
 
THE    GREEK     LANGUAGE.  461 
 
 In  later  ages  the  Roman  arms  carried  the  Latin 
 back  into  Greece,  and  filled  the  country  with  the 
 harsh  phrase  of  its  government  and  manners. 
 
 The  erection  of  the  Bj^zantine  Empire  produced 
 another,  and  still  more  formidable,  chano-e.  A 
 Thracian  Court,  with  a  policy  more  Asiatic  than 
 European,  fond  of  strange  ceremonial,  involved  in 
 the  controversies  of  a  new  religion,  guarded  by 
 barbarian  troops,  perpetually  shaken  by  bar- 
 barian invasion,  and  crowded  with  chieftains 
 and  ambassadors  from  the  limits  of  the  barba- 
 rian world  ;  must  have  soon  vitiated  the  integrity 
 of  the  national  speech.  That  ominous  connexion 
 of  the  fall  of  a  national  literature  with  the  fall 
 of  the  country,  which  seems  to  be  among  the 
 prescribed  warnings  of  ruin,  was  fully  exem- 
 plified. The  popular  dialect  of  Constantinople 
 had  degraded  the  shape  and  colours  of  the  orioi- 
 nal  language,  long  before  the  Turk  was  summoned 
 to  do  judgment  on  the  gorgeous  eastern  adul- 
 teress, the  purple  -  robed  and  jewel  -  crowned 
 drinker  of  the  blood  of  the  saints ;  and  extin- 
 guishing her  idolatries  with  the  sword,  plant  the 
 two-fold  abomination  of  desolation,  his  homicidal 
 standard,  and  his  savage  jargon,  on  her  grave. 
 
 Another  change  was  to  exhibit  the  influence  of 
 time  and  decay.  With  some  analogy  to  the  fate 
 of  extended  empire,  the  language,  forced  to  re- 
 cede from  its  Asiatic  borders,  was  now  to  struocvle 
 for  existence  at  home.     Norman   pirates,    French 
 
462  THE    GREEK    LANGUAGE. 
 
 and  Venetian  crusaders  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
 followed  by  the  desultory,   but  ruinous,  havoc  of 
 a  war  of  adventurers,  Frankish  counts,  and  Bul- 
 garian and  Albanian  chiefs  of  banditti,  prostrated 
 the  spirit  of  the  land.     In  the  usual  circumstances 
 of  nations,   the  language,   with  all  its  fine  and 
 powerful    adaptations  to   the   most  delicate    and 
 dexterous    exigencies    of  the    mind,    must   have 
 perished.     But  it  had  laid  up,  in  its  ancient  lite- 
 rature,  a  matchless  source  of  revival.     A   lamp 
 burned  in  the   sepulchre,  which  was  yet  to  re- 
 kindle the  flame  on  the  altar.    The  fugitives  from 
 the  ruin  of  the  Greek  empire,  had   carried  away 
 their  gods  through  the  conflagration,  to  found  a 
 new  worship  in  a  more  favoured  land.     The  im- 
 perishable treasures  of  feeling  and  thought,   which 
 living  Greece  had  neither  the  power,  nor  perhaps 
 the  will,  to  use ;  were  sent  through  every  region 
 of  Europe,  to  purchase  a  noble  sympathy  among 
 the  virtuous  and  the  free,  for  the  unhappy  client- 
 ship  that  was  then  lingering  in  the  Turkish  chain  ; 
 and  to  prepare,  in  the  bosom  of  universal  scholar- 
 ship, that  generous  alliance,  which  has   unques- 
 tionably done  more  to  sustain  the  Grecian  cause, 
 than  all  the   policy  of  governments ;    and  which 
 still   looks   with    an   unsubdued   and    inalienable 
 interest  to  the  progress  of  Greece  in  wise  freedom, 
 manly  knowledge,  and  purified  religion.     In  the 
 conduct  of  that  cause,  there  may  have  been  hu- 
 man   passion    or    human   error ;     but,    from    the 
 
THE    GREEK    LANGUAGE.  463 
 
 first,  it  has  been,  beyond  all  denial,  the  cause  of 
 mankind.  Its  triumphs  have  been  for  all.  Phi- 
 losophy and  Christianity  alike  have  seen  in  them 
 the  first  recess  of  the  flood  of  barbarism  ;  the  first 
 dawn  on  the  edge  of  a  sky  that  shall  yet  shower 
 light  upon  all  kingdoms ;  the  first  lifting  of  a 
 trumpet  that  shall  yet  break  up  the  sleep  of  the 
 great  Asiatic  tomb.  More  than  the  vanities  of 
 earthly  victory  are  in  the  advance  of  Greece  to 
 empire.  The  first  shout  that  tells  us  of  the  plant- 
 ing of  the  CROSS  on  the  ramparts  of  Constanti- 
 nople, should  be  echoed  by  every  nation  of  the 
 world. 
 
 B.  c.  285. — The  translation  of  the  Scriptures 
 into  Greek,  was  begun  about  the  third  year  of 
 the  123d  Olympiad.  The  narratives  of  its  origin 
 are  contradictory,  and  scarcely  worth  reconciling. 
 The  name  of  the  Septuagbit  is  indifferently  re- 
 ferred to  the  number  of  the  translators,  the  time 
 occupied  in  the  translation,  and  the  sanction  of 
 the  Sanhedrin  ;  its  first  conception  alike  to  the 
 zeal  of  the  Alexandrian  Jews,  the  command  of 
 their  Sanhedrin,  and  the  curiosity  of  their  king. 
 The  statement  received  in  the  time  of  Josephus 
 was,  that  Ptolemy  Philadelphus,  desirous  of  pos- 
 sessing a  translation  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  for 
 his  celebrated  library  at  Alexandria ;  sent  Aris- 
 teas   and   Andreas  \    two  persons   of  rank,   on  a 
 
 ^  The  letter  in  which  Aristeas  gives  this  account,  was  a  sub- 
 ject of  violent  discussion  in  the  early  part  of  the    last   century 
 
4G4  THE    GREEK    LANGUAGE. 
 
 formal  mission  to  Eleazer,  the  Jewish  High  Priest, 
 to  obtain  an  authentic  copy  of  the  Sacred  Volume  ; 
 that  the  persons  appointed  to  make  the  translation 
 were  placed  in  the  Island  of  Pharos  for  greater 
 seclusion ;  and  that  the  several  translators,  after 
 submitting  their  portions  to  mutual  criticism,  de- 
 livered them  over  to  Demetrius  Phalereus,  the 
 king's  librarian,  by  whom,  or  by  whose  order, 
 they  were  copied,  and  put  together.  The  fables 
 fastened  on  this  statement  by  the  Alexandrian 
 Jews  ;  the  incredible  seclusion,  miraculous  cor- 
 rectness, and  direct  inspiration,  of  the  translators, 
 are  not  entitled  to  impair  the  authority  of  this 
 great  performance.  It  is  perfectly  natural,  that 
 an  opulent  and  accomplished  sovereign,  con- 
 fessedly employing  his  taste  and  treasures  in  the 
 cultivation  of  literature,  and  who  prided  himself 
 in  adorning  Alexandria  with  the  most  memorable 
 libraries  of  ancient  times,  should  have  wished  to 
 possess,  even  as  a  literary  curiosity,  the  book  of 
 the  laws,  history,  and  poetry  of  a  nation,  lying 
 on  his  borders.      But  the  circumstance,    that   a 
 
 and  close  of  the  preceding.  Hody,  in  his  work  De  liibl.  Graec. 
 Textibus,  was  the  chief  assailant.  The  learned  Walton  was  the 
 protector  of  the  Egyptian  envoy's  fair  fame.  Numbers  at  last 
 prevailed,  and  the  letter  was  pronounced  a  forgery.  Yet  this 
 needs  not  impair  the  original  facts,  which  seem  to  have  been 
 familiar  to  the  Jewish  nation ;  who  certainly  acknowledged  the 
 work  with  joy,  and  never  rejected  it,  until  it  had  first  rejected 
 them. 
 
THE    GREEK    LANGUAGE.  465 
 
 large  body  of  that  nation  were  living  under  his 
 government,  would  be  sufficient  to  make  the  pos- 
 session of  the  Pentateuch  a  matter  of  public  ne- 
 cessity. There  must  have  been  constant  appeals 
 by  the  Jews  to  their  Law,  in  their  common  trans- 
 actions with  the  people  and  government ;  and 
 those  appeals  could  not  be  answered  but  by  re- 
 ference to  an  authority  recognized  by  both  parties. 
 A  translation  of  the  Law  into  Greek,  from  a 
 copy  authenticated  by  the  high  priest,  and  exe- 
 cuted by  Jews  on  the  spot,  would  form  an  indis- 
 putable standard.  And  in  conformity  to  this  idea, 
 we  find  that  the  Pentateuch  alone  was  translated 
 in  the  first  instance,  and  by  the  royal  desire.  The 
 other  books  followed,  chiefly  at  long  intervals,  and 
 in  other  reigns.  Esther,  the  Psalms,  and  the 
 Prophets  in  general,  were  not  translated  till  a 
 century  after.  The  version  of  the  Pentateuch  was 
 also  evidently  made  by  Egyptian  Jews,  from  the 
 number  of  its  Coptic  words  and  idioms.  But  those 
 are  the  husks  and  triflings  of  the  question.  The 
 important  matters  are,  that  the  Septuagint  was 
 received  as  an  authority  nearly,  if  not  altogether, 
 on  a  level  with  the  original,  from  the  time  of  its 
 first  appearance  ;  that  it  was  read  by  the  foreign 
 Jew  in  the  synagogue,  and  by  the  Christian  in 
 the  church  ;  that  it  was  evidently  quoted  in 
 many  instances  by  our  Lord  ;  was  unequivocally 
 adopted  by  the  fathers  ;  and  was  the  parent  of  all 
 
 H  h 
 
466  THE    GREEK    LANGUAGE. 
 
 the  principal  translations  into  other  tongues,  Ara- 
 bic, Armenian,  Ethiopic,  Gothic,  Latin,  &c. 
 
 But  the  epoch  of  this  translation  was  striking. 
 It  was  in  the  exact  interval  between  the  comple- 
 tion of  the  Jewish  Canon  by  the  prophecies  of» 
 Malachi,  and  the  long  series  of  Jewish  desolations 
 which  began  with  Epiphanes.  It  was  thus  suffi- 
 ciently late  to  contain  the  entire  canon,  and  suffi- 
 ciently early  to  escape  a  time  of  Jewish  confusion, 
 which  might  have  altogether  extinguished  the 
 design '. 
 
 '  The  literary  history  of  the  Septuagint  is  given  with  learned 
 fidelity  by  Holmes,  in  the  Introduction  to  his  edition  of  the 
 Septuagint.  The  fac  simile  of  the  Alexandrian  MSS.  begun  by 
 Woide,  has  been  lately  completed  in  a  publication,  of  remark- 
 able skill  and  beauty,  by  the  Rev.  H.  H.  Baber. 
 
CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
 
 THE  SYRIAN  WARS. 
 
 One  of  the  great  changes  of  the  world  was  now 
 come.  The  habitual  profligacy  of  all  Paganism, 
 and  the  general  oppression  of  the  chosen  people, 
 had  hurried  on  the  ruin  of  the  mighty  Persian 
 empire.  Daniel,  two  hundred  years  before',  had 
 seen  the  vision  of  the  he-goat  and  the  ram^,  the 
 emblem  of  the  Macedonian  invasion,  that  was  to 
 *'  run  swiftly,  scarce  touching  the  ground,"  and 
 of  the  broken  strength  of  the  Mede  and  Persian 
 dynasty. 
 
 No  prophecy  was  ever  more  amply  fulfilled. 
 The  "  notable  horn  between  the  eyes  of  the 
 goat,"  the  fiery  chieftain  who  was  summoned  from 
 
 '  B.C.  558. 
 
 '  The  goat  was  the  Macedonian  ensign,  from  the  old  legend, 
 of  the  march  of  Caramus,  the  founder  of  the  monarchy,  being 
 directed  by  a  flock  of  goats.  (Justin.  1.  vii.)  The  ram  was  the 
 Persian  ensign.  It  is  still  seen,  ^v^th  unequal  horns,  among  the 
 sculptures  at  Persepolis ;  the  lower  horn  for  the  Medes,  the 
 higher  for  the  Persians.  (Ammian.  Marcel.  1.  xix.  quoted  by 
 Hales.) 
 
 Hh  2 
 
468  THE  SYRIAN   WARS. 
 
 beyond  the  Hellespont  to  execute  the  Divine  ven- 
 geance, in  two  years  laid  the  Persian  monarchy 
 even  with  the  ground ;  and,  like  the  instruments 
 of  wrath,  was  himself  cast  away  when  his  work 
 was  done.  The  empire  of  this  most  resistless 
 soldier,  and  splendid  devastator,  that  the  ancient 
 world  ever  saw,  perished  still  more  rapidly  than 
 it  rose  :  reared  by  ambition  and  blood,  it  fell  in 
 fragments  on  his  grave  \ 
 
 But,  as  if  the  whole  vast  revolution  had  been 
 planned  with  a  distinct  view  to  the  punishment 
 of  Judah,  Palestine  from  that  hour  became  the 
 seat  of  the  most  ruinous  and  incessant  wars.  Of 
 the  four  dynasties  which  divided  the  power  of 
 Alexander,  the  two  most  ambitious,  subtle,  and 
 sanguinary,  were  the  Ptolemies  and  the  Seleucidae, 
 the  Sovereigns  of  Egypt  and  Syria  ;  and  those 
 were  the  devastators  let  loose  upon  Palestine. 
 While  the  hostilities  of  the  other  dividers  of  the 
 Macedonian  Empire  languished,  or  ceased  alto- 
 gether, the  two  royal  tigers  of  the  north  and 
 south  never  relaxed  their  thirst  of  each  other's 
 blood.  They  were  perpetually  either  in  the  act 
 to  spring,  or  fastening  on  each  other  with  tooth 
 and  talon  ;  or,  if  baffled,  Judah  lay  in  their  path 
 homeward,   and  on  her  they  furiously  sated  their 
 
 revenge. 
 
 But  she   had    deserved    it    all. 
 
 The  gradual 
 
 I  B.  C.  323. 
 
THE  SYRIAN   WARS.  469 
 
 corruption  of  her  people  had  been  brought  to  its 
 crisis,  by  the  audacious  guilt  of  the  High  Priest, 
 Jason.  The  thunderbolt  so  long  suspended,  then 
 fell.  Within  five  years  from  that  profanation, 
 Antiochus  Epiphanes  stormed  Jerusalem ;  then 
 ensued  a  havoc  which  was  to  be  unequalled,  till 
 the  final  desolation.  Multitudes  were  instantly 
 butchered,  multitudes  swept  mto  returnless 
 slavery.  Within  three  years  the  massacre  was 
 renewed,  but  with  the  still  deeper  national  pang 
 of  the  spoil  and  profanation  of  the  temple.  At 
 length,  an  idol  was  erected  on  the  altar  of  Jeho- 
 vah !  In  this  visitation  on  the  vanity  and  love  of 
 change,  which  had  made  the  Jew,  for  a  century 
 before,  cling  to  the  habits  and  morals  of  the 
 foreigner,  it  would  be  almost  possible  to  trace, 
 step  by  step,  and  blow  by  blow,  the  judicial 
 vengeance  that  scourged  out  his  criminality  at 
 last.  His  false  shame  of  the  rites  of  Judceism  was 
 punished,  by  a  command  that  none  should  be 
 performed  under  pain  of  death  ;  his  frivolous 
 propensity  to  the  Greek  games,  by  forced  and 
 humiliating  displays  for  the  sport  of  his  Syrian 
 masters ;  and  his  neglect  of  the  temple,  by  a 
 blood-thirsty  edict,  that  every  Jew  should  offer 
 incense  to  the  gods  of  Paganism ;  an  edict  which 
 stung  the  nation  to  the. soul.  For,  by  one  of  the 
 extraordinary  anomalies  of  this  most  singular  peo- 
 ple, while  they  largely  fell  into  the  crimes  and 
 follies  of  the  stranger,  they  scorned  Iiis  worship ; 
 
470  THE  SYRIAN   WARS. 
 
 and  while  they  left  the  priest  of  Jehovah  to  ad- 
 minister to  empty  courts,  and  suffered  the  flame 
 on  his  altar  to  sink  unfed  ;  they  had  fixed  every 
 feeling  of  pride  which  remained  in  their  bosoms, 
 on  the  sacred  superiority  of  the  temple.  The  pol- 
 lution of  that  temple  by  an  idol  sacrifice  was  the 
 final  blow.  None  could  now  lift  their  eyes  to 
 Sion,  without  a  consciousness  of  shame.  Tyranny 
 had  long  wound  its  enormous  folds  round  them, 
 and  crushed  the  popular  strength  ;  but  now  it 
 struck  in  the  sting. 
 
 But  those  events  strongly  illustrate  the  corres- 
 pondence between  the  providential  order  of  the 
 Ante-diluvian  and  the  Jewish  lines.  The  inter- 
 marriages of  the  sons  of  Seth  with  the  Cainites, 
 had  been  followed  by  the  sudden  supremacy  of 
 violence  ;  the  land  was  ravaged  by  furious  leaders, 
 giants  in  evil.  The  intermarriages  of  the  Jews 
 with  the  heathen,  a  similar  crime,  were  visited 
 with  a  perfect  similarity  of  punishment.  The  East 
 became  a  scene  of  the  most  furious  wars  ;  and 
 their  concentrated  rage  fell  on  Palestine.  From 
 the  division  of  the  Macedonian  empire  to  the 
 reign  of  Herod,  Jerusalem  was  captured  six  times 
 by  foreign  armies.  Vast  hordes  of  the  East  and 
 South,  Arabians,  Syrians,  Egyptians,  and  savages, 
 alike  from  Scythia  and  Africa,  covered  the  land 
 with  carnage  and  misery  for  the  fearful  duration 
 of  two  hundred  years  \      Her  permanent  torturers 
 
 '   From  B.  C.  320,  to  B.  C.  37. 
 
THE  SYRIAN   WARS.  471 
 
 were  the  dynasties  of  Syria  and  Egypt,  men  of 
 renown,  superb  sovereigns,  but  bloody  destroyers  : 
 knowing  no  law  but  force  ;  of  immense  power ; 
 giants  in  evil. 
 
 The  personal  history  of  the  Syrian  and  Egyptian 
 monarchies  is  one  of  the  darkest  pages  of  man. 
 It  had  all  the  violence  of  barbarism,   but  of  bar- 
 barism armed  and  envenomed  with  all   the  skill 
 and  subtlety  of  civilization.     With  some  flashes 
 of  heroic  gallantry,  and  royal  munificence,  all  the 
 rest  was  ferocity  and  fraud.     Ambition  was  the 
 only  impulse  :  the  universal  result  was   gore  shed 
 in  torrents ;  the  rapid  change  of  dominion  from 
 hand  to  hand  ;    domestic    treachery    performing 
 tragedies    of   horror    in    every    palace;     hideous 
 feuds  rousing  the  populace  of  the  cities  into  in- 
 discriminate vengeance  ;  kings,  and  chiefs  of  high 
 military    name,    meeting   in   perpetual  collision, 
 and    leaving    behind     nothing   but    famine    and 
 death  :  Judaea  the  field  of  battle  of  them  all. 
 
 The  national  historian  describes  this  dreadful 
 era  with  simple  but  strong  expression.  "  The  Jews 
 resembled  a  ship  tossed  by  a  hurricane,  and 
 bufi"etted  on  both  sides  by  the  waves,  while  they 
 lay  in  the  midst  of  contendino;  seas  ^" 
 
 btill,  the  Church,  though  almost  expiring,  sur- 
 vived. The  seven  thousand  who  had  not  bowed 
 the  knee  to  Baal,  were  left;  the  valour  and  suc- 
 
 '  Josephus,  Antiq.  xii.  3. 
 
472  THE  SYRIAN  WARS, 
 
 cesses  of  the  Maccabees  vindicated  the  ancient 
 faith,  and  not  seldom  recalled  the  memory  of  the 
 days,  when  Heaven  fought  for  the  chosen  people. 
 But  the  national  degeneracy  was  an  antagonist 
 more  powerful  than  the  Syrian  sword  and  buckler. 
 The  supremacy  of  Judah  was  never  to  return. 
 She  was  now  to  be  given  into  the  hand  of  that  great 
 empire,  which  was  unconsciously  to  prepare  the 
 way  for  an  empire,  before  whose  existence  all 
 human  dominion  is  but  the  creature  of  an  hour. 
 In  the  sixty-third  year  before  the  advent  of  our 
 Lord,  the  Roman  army  under  Pompey  made 
 Judaea  tributary.  The  warning  trumpet  was  now 
 sounded  for  the  great  procession  to  begin,  in 
 which  all  the  glories  of  Judah  were  successively 
 to  follow  to  the  grave.  In  that  grave  the  whole 
 polity,  power,  and  worship,  of  the  land  sleep  at 
 this  moment ;  and  shall  sleep,  until  they  are 
 summoned  again,  in  a  convulsion,  like  that  in 
 which  they  went  down  ;  but  shaking  all  nations, 
 felt  alike  by  the  living  and  the  dead,  and  regene- 
 rating the  moral  and  physical  constitution  of  the 
 world. 
 
CHAPTER  XXXVm. 
 
 CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 The  period  from  the  accession  of  Herod  the  Great 
 to  the  fall  of  Jerusalem,  comprehends  a  hundred 
 years,  crowded  with  events  of  the  most  incalcu- 
 lable importance  to  mankind.  The  preparatives 
 for  the  coming  of  our  Lord ;  the  re-building  of 
 that  temple  which  was  thus  to  be  more  honoured 
 than  by  the  Glory  from  heaven  ;  the  visions  and 
 predictions  of  those  who  looked  for  the  great 
 coming,  day  and  night  watching  in  the  temple ; 
 the  solemn  and  startling  denunciations  of  the 
 Baptist ;  the  visible  presence  of  the  Eternal  in  the 
 flesh  ;  His  mission  ;  His  power  over  nature,  the 
 human  heart,  and  the  Evil  Spirit ;  His  death  for 
 human  sin  ;  His  rising  again  for  human  justifica- 
 tion ;  His  visible  ascent  to  the  throne  of  Heaven  ; 
 the  overwhelming  miracle  by  which  fortitude, 
 knowledge,  faith,  and  the  power  of  communi- 
 cating them  all,  were  inspired  into  the  peasants 
 of  Galilee  ;  form  an  unspeakable  display  of  light 
 
474  CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 and  wisdom,  an  illustration  of  Providence  which, 
 through  all  the  clouds  of  time  and  things,  still 
 fixes  the  eye  on  that  spot  above,  where  the  Sun  of 
 the  Spirit  shall  break  forth  at  last,  and  the  full 
 aspect  of  the  heavens  be  shown  to  man. 
 
 The  true  conception  of  Christianity  is,  not  that 
 of  a  new  religion,  but  of  an  old  receiving  a  more 
 perfect  form  ; — the  seed  planted  in  the  day  of 
 Abraham ;  shut  up,  but  maturing,  in  the  day  of 
 Judah  ;  and  shooting  above  the  earth  in  the  day  of 
 Christ ; — the  primal  faith,  buried  in  weakness,  to 
 be  raised  in  power ;  the  body  laid  in  the  grave 
 with  the  patriarchal  dispensation  ;  the  spirit  exist- 
 ing, but  separate  and  viewless,  in  the  Mosaic  ;  the 
 spirit  and  body  re-united,  with  more  vivid  attri- 
 butes, a  nobler  shape,  and  a  perpetual  existence, 
 in  the  Christian. 
 
 The  apostles  continually  declare  this  identity  of 
 principle  with  the  religion  of  Abraham.  They 
 claim  expressly  under  the  Abrahamic  covenant. 
 St.  Paul,  alternately  astonished  at  the  dulness, 
 and  indignant  at  the  prejudice,  which  could  doubt 
 that  he  himself  was  a  champion  of  the  true  na- 
 tional religion,  cries  out,  "for  the  liope  of  Israel 
 am  I  bound  with  this  chain."  He  unhesitatingly 
 accounts  for  the  reluctance  of  the  Jews  to  adopt 
 Christianity,  not  on  the  ground  that  they  were 
 wedded  to  the  religion  of  Abraham,  but  that 
 they  had  substituted  another  in  its  place ;  and 
 loftily   denies  their    claim    to    tlie    very    title    of 
 
CHRISTIANITY.  475 
 
 Israelite  ',  ''  All  are  not  Israel  that  are  of  Israel." 
 Peter,  like  the  preachers  of  righteousness  in  the 
 days  before  the  flood,  warns  the  Jews  of  the  ruin 
 which  is  the  inevitable  consequence  of  their  apos- 
 tasy from  the  primal  faith  ;  and  our  Lord  him- 
 self, in  the  most  distinct,  detailed,  and  impressive, 
 declaration  of  Divine  wrath  ever  given,  first 
 charges  the  people  with  revolt  from  the  spirit  of 
 this  faith  ;  and  then  pronounces  the  coming  of  that 
 deluge  of  fire  and  sword  which  was  to  extirpate  the 
 being  of  the  nation,  as  the  result  of  the  crime  ^ 
 
 The  deluge  had  overwhelmed  alike  the  two 
 divisions  of  mankind,  the  few  and  feeble  Seth- 
 ites,  and  the  countless  and  powerful  multitudes  of 
 
 '  Woe  unto  you  Scribes  and  Pharisees  ;  ye  serpents,  ye 
 generation  of  vipers,  how  can  you  escape.  Upon  you  shall  come 
 all  the  righteous  blood  shed  upon  the  earth.  All  those  things 
 shall  come  upon  this  generation.  (Matt,  xxiii.  27,  &c.)  Then 
 shall  be  great  tribulation,  such  as  was  not  since  the  beginning 
 of  the  world,     (xxiv.  21.) 
 
 ^  It  was  evidently  in  a  great  degree  from  this  view  of  Christ- 
 ianity, as  a  consummation  of  the  church  of  Abraham,  merely 
 relieved  from  the  restrictions  of  the  Mosaic  Law,  (which  were 
 professedly  temporary,)  that  the  first  disciples  were  so  slow 
 in  comprehending  their  mission  to  the  Gentiles.  For  this 
 reason  too,  among  others,  the  mission  was  first  limited  to  the 
 Jews,  as  peculiarly  entitled  to  the  first  benefits  of  the  religion 
 of  their  ancestor  in  its  active  and  improved  state.  Even  the 
 name  of  Christian  was  not  known  till  a.d.  42,  at  Antioch,  and 
 even  then  was  not  chosen  by  the  converts,  but  fastened  on  them 
 by  strangers. — {Diss,  by  Wetstein.  Kuinoel ;  Bloowjicld's  notes, 
 
 «S'C.) 
 
476  CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Cain.  The  ruin  which  now  fell  on  the  Jew, 
 was  similarly  to  spread  over  the  great  empire  of 
 idolatry. 
 
 In  the  vision  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  the  history  of 
 human  power  had  stood  before  him  in  the  majes- 
 tic form  of  an  image  of  gold,  silver,  brass,  and 
 iron,  of  terrible  aspect,  gigantic  size,  and  dazzling 
 splendour.  In  the  still  more  awful  display  of  the 
 Divine  will,  which  our  Lord  gives  in  the  parable 
 of  the  last  judgment,  the  principle  of  Providence 
 in  the  government  of  the  earth  is  declared  to  be 
 the  well-being  of  the  church  of  God — "  Forasmuch 
 as  ye  did  it  not  unto  these  my  hrethren,  ye  did  it 
 not  unto  me."  The  Babylonish,  Persian,  Mace- 
 donian, and  Roman  Empires,  had  exercised  an 
 unceasing  influence  on  Judah,  as  invaders  or 
 sovereigns.  Those  successive  powers  constituted 
 Civilization.  Within,  or  touching  their  bound- 
 aries, was  the  world  of  literature,  of  the  arts,  poli- 
 tics, warlike  science,  and  commercial  activity. 
 Beyond,  was  the  circle  of  darkness,  stagnant, 
 squalid,  and  unknown  ;  barbarism  pining  with 
 famine,  herding  in  swamps,  freezing  among 
 snows  and  forests,  or  wandering  over  wildernesses 
 of  rock  and  sand,  pursuing  and  pursued,  slaying 
 and  being  slain,  distinguished  from  the  wolf  or 
 the  tiger  by  scarcely  more  than  a  subtler  ferocity 
 and  more  ravening:  love  of  blood.  The  four  Em- 
 pires  formed  the  central  channel  of  life  to  the 
 earth  :  the  spine,  from  which  issued  vividness  and 
 
CHRISTIANITY.  477 
 
 sensitiveness  to  the  general  frame  ;  the  meridian, 
 to  which  all  the  lines  of  the  chart  of  human  pro- 
 gress must  be  referred.  But,  the  work  of  the 
 superb  Oriental  Empires  was  done  :  Judah  had 
 been  successively  chastised,  restored,  and  trampled 
 on  by  them  all,  and  their  agency,  whether  as 
 protection  or  punishment,  was  no  longer  essential 
 to  the  discipline  of  a  state,  whose  days  were 
 numbered. 
 
 At  the  exact  period  when  Christianity  was  to 
 be  given  to  the  world,  the  Roman  empire  had  re- 
 ceived that  form  of  government  which  most  fully 
 combined  enterprizc  with  solidity ;  the  daring 
 energy  of  a  republic  with  the  broad  and  profound 
 ambition  of  a  monarchy.  Like  all  the  great 
 leaders  of  mankind,  the  genius  of  the  first  Csesar 
 might  stand  for  the  representative  of  his  empire. 
 The  unequalled  union  of  the  brilliant,  the  saga- 
 cious, and  the  bold,  with  the  stately,  the  mag- 
 nanimous, and  the  royal,  which  had  rendered 
 that  memorable  man,  perhaps,  the  finest  combi- 
 nation which  the  world  has  seen,  of  the  finest 
 qualities  for  establishing  a  sovereignty  ;  had  in- 
 scribed its  character  upon  every  stone  of  his 
 mighty  building.  The  remark  is  old,  and  true, 
 that  the  Roman  arms  were  the  levellers  of  the 
 highway  of  Christianity.  We  are  fully  en- 
 titled to  believe,  that  it  was  for  the  uses  of  a 
 religion,  yet  to  comprehend  all  nations,  that  the 
 original  empires  were  covered  with  the  shadow  of 
 
478  CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 the  Roman  eagle  ;  and  the  mandate  of  the  Em- 
 peror touched  the  extreme  points  of  civilization, 
 from  the  Caucasus  to  Mauritania,  and  from  the 
 rising  to  the  setting  sun. 
 
 But  there  was  to  be  a  striking  distinction  in  the 
 religious  fortunes  of  those  empires.  The  first  three 
 were  left  to  perish  as  they  fell,  broken  idols,  cast 
 from  their  pedestals,  and  mouldering  away  by  the 
 common  course  of  ruin.  The  fourth,  was  to  cast 
 off  its  Pagan  nature,  and  be  suddenly  invested 
 with  the  unsullied  robe,  and  starry  diadem,  of 
 Christianity. 
 
 The  capture  of  Jerusalem  by  Titus,  has  been 
 too  hastily  assumed  as  the  final  vengeance  in- 
 flicted on  the  Jews.  There,  it  is  true,  the  irre- 
 coverable blow  was  given ;  there  the  veins  were 
 pierced,  which  must  drop  until  life  exuded  from 
 the  national  frame.  But  that  frame  still  lingered 
 on,  if  it  were  only  to  complete  the  full  measure 
 of  its  prophetic  sufferings.  The  horrors  of  the 
 siege  still  remain  on  record  as  the  most  over- 
 whelming scene  of  history  ;  the  last  agonies  of  an 
 unhappy  people,  roused  to  a  resistance  without 
 hope,  sustained  only  by  the  antipathies  of  national 
 feeling ;  and  nerved  only  by  the  madness  of 
 misery  and  despair.  It  must  have  presented 
 the  spectacle,  less  of  the  daring  and  spirit-stirring 
 encounter  of  men  urged  by  glory  or  patriotism, 
 than  of  a  vast  pit-full  of  wolves  and  lions,  sur- 
 rounded   by    hunters,    and    slaughtered    without 
 
CHRISTIANITY.  479 
 
 mercy.  Yet  those  horrors  were  only  the  ex- 
 haustion of  a  long-suffering,  which  had  borne 
 with  an  intractable  nation  for  fifteen  hundred 
 years,  and  had  at  length  cast  it  off,  to  be  undone. 
 But,  unless  we  are  to  conceive  the  physical  con- 
 struction of  the  Jewish  mind  different  from  that  of 
 all  other  nations ;  or  attribute  to  its  trials,  results, 
 of  which  we  have  no  example  as  the  product  of 
 other  national  sufferings,  we  may  well  wonder  at 
 its  tenacity  of  life  and  revenge.  The  loss  of 
 Jerusalem  had  stripped  the  nation  of  all  that 
 constitutes  public  existence.  Government,  Law, 
 Revenue,  Religion,  the  whole  armour  of  the 
 State,  had  been  hacked  from  her,  piece  by  piece. 
 She  had  been  not  merely  chained,  every  limb 
 had  been  broken  on  the  wheel.  She  had  fallen, 
 not  like  a  warrior  on  the  field  ;  but,  like  a  crimi- 
 nal, after  wearying  the  scaffold,  flung  to  be  de- 
 voured by  the  birds  and  beasts  of  prey.  Yet  we 
 see  this  dislocated  being  gathering  up  its  limbs, 
 and  exacting  terrible  retaliation.  The  multitudes 
 slain  in  the  Jewish  insurrections  in  Africa,  Asia, 
 and  the  Mediterranean  shores,  were  beyond  cal- 
 culation. In  the  hurried  conjecture  of  the  time, 
 there  fell,  in  the  insurrection  of  the  African  Pen- 
 tapolis,  220,000  of  the  natives,  and  strangers  fre- 
 quenting that  opulent  and  populous  district.  In 
 Cyprus,  the  Jews  destroyed  240,000.  Roman 
 justice  too  was  proveibial  for  its  severity,  and 
 Jewisli  blood  was  poured  out  in  torrents.  For 
 1 
 
480  CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 nearly  a  hundred  years,  the  Roman  sword  was 
 never  wholly  sheathed  ;  and  still  the  gore  con- 
 tinued to  spout  from  the  limbs  of  the  indomitable 
 slave. 
 
 While  Jerusalem  stood,  the  nation  was  im- 
 mortal. At  length  the  consummation  came.  The 
 old  deception,  which  had  never  failed  to  deceive, 
 a  false  Messiah,  was  proclaimed  to  this  ruined 
 people.  From  the  time  when  they  had  cast  off 
 their  true  King,  judgment  visited  them  in  the 
 shape  of  the  most  fatal  reliance  on  imposture. 
 The  frenzied  insurrection  under  Barchochebas, 
 (A.D.  132.)  closed  the  existence  of  Judah.  The 
 slaughter  was  unequalled,  but  by  that  of  the 
 siege  :  580,000  fell  in  battle ;  and  a  multitude, 
 beyond  all  count,  perished  in  the  slower,  but  not 
 less  deadly,  operations  of  famine,  pestilence, 
 nakedness,  and  sorrow.  Yet  the  ruin  was  incom- 
 plete, until  it  was  sealed  by  the  profanation  of  Je- 
 rusalem. The  work  could  not  have  fallen  into 
 more  determined  hands  than  those  of  the  emperor. 
 Hadrian  did  his  appointed  office  with  rigid  hos- 
 tility :  he  built  a  theatre  with  the  stones  of  the 
 Temple  ;  dedicated  a  temple  to  Jupiter  on  the 
 spot  where  the  altar  of  God  had  stood ;  placed 
 the  figure  of  a  swine  on  the  city  gates;  and,  by 
 an  imperial  edict,  forbade  all  Jews,  on  pain  of 
 death,  from  setting  foot  within  the  city,  for  ever ! 
 But  the  national  ruin  was  to  receive  an  additional 
 stamp  of  Divine  abandonment,   scarcely  less  em- 
 
CHRISTIANITY.  481 
 
 phatic,  if  more  obscure.  The  Christian  Church 
 •  of  Jerusalem,  divinely  warned,  had  retired  to 
 Pella  at  the  commencement  of  the  siege.  While 
 Christianity,  in  Greece  and  Asia  Minor,  spread  its 
 freedom  through  large  and  powerful  communities, 
 the  little  Church  at  Pella  still  retained  its  ad- 
 herence to  some  of  the  Mosaic  rites,  and  its  at- 
 tachment to  Jerusalem.  It  was  the  last  link  by 
 which  Providence  still  suffered  its  Church  to  be 
 bound  to  the  decayed  commonwealth  of  Judah. 
 Pella  was  the  city  of  refuge,  the  last  spot  opened 
 for  the  Jew  flying  from  the  avengers  of  his  blood- 
 guiltiness.  But  it  was  now  to  be  closed.  The 
 Bishops  of  the  Church  had  been  always  of  the 
 race  of  Abraham  ;  on  the  fall  of  Barchochebas, 
 they  elected  a  Bishop  from  the  Gentiles,  re- 
 nounced their  Mosaic  observances,  and  thus  cut 
 down  the  bridge  between  Judaeism  and  Christi- 
 anity for  ever'. 
 
 '  Euseb.  L.  iii.— Le  Clerc.  H.  Eccl.  Gibbon. 
 
 I  1 
 
CHAPTER    XXXIX. 
 
 PAGANISM. 
 
 The  Roman  empire  was  now  to  perish.  One  of 
 the  high  uses  for  which  it  was  made,  had  been 
 fulfilled  in  the  extirpation  of  Judah.  Its  final  use 
 was  the  diffusion  of  Christianity.  From  the  period 
 of  the  Jewish  overthrow,  the  fall  of  Rome  began 
 to  be  announced  by  those  signs,  which,  carelessly 
 regarded  as  they  may  be  by  the  multitude,  are 
 proofs  to  the  philosopher  and  the  Christian.  The 
 empire  was  still  resistless ;  the  leviathan  still 
 threw  the  political  ocean  into  tumult,  and  swept 
 through  the  tempest  with  his  accustomed  com- 
 mand :  but  the  ebb  was  inevitably  come,  and  he 
 must  be  laid  dry  upon  the  shore. 
 
 Within  sixty-two  years  of  the  last  pollution  of 
 Jerusalem,  the  accession  of  Commodus  to  the 
 throne  was  the  direct  signal  of  convulsion.  From 
 this  time,  the  personal  vices  and  intolerable 
 tyranny  of  the  emperors  kindling  the  passions 
 of  a  people  of  slaves  ;  every  shape  of  lordly  guilt, 
 and  popular  profligacy,  as  if  they  liad  been  raised 
 
PAGANISM.  483 
 
 from  a  darker  bed  than  of  this  world,  stalked  in 
 daylight  through  the  empire.  The  heart  revolts 
 from  those  scenes  of  the  naked  criminality  of  man. 
 But  they  belong  to  the  history  of  a  popular  mind, 
 abandoned  to  the  impulses  of  human  nature. 
 Half  the  empire  was  a  dungeon,  and  half  a 
 theatre  :  life  was  divided  between  the  misery  of 
 chains,  and  the  madness  of  a  Bacchanalian  revel. 
 And  the  punishment  was  as  impartial  as  the  crimi- 
 nality. If  the  people  perished  by  famine  or  the 
 sword,  the  monarch  went  down  headless  to  the 
 tomb.  For  fifty  years,  the  throne  was  but  a 
 speedier  passage  to  a  felon's  grave. 
 
 "  The  reign  of  Commodus,"  says  the  historian, 
 *'  was  the  signal  of  a  revolution,  to  this  day  felt 
 among  the  nations  of  the  earths"  Then  began 
 the  supremacy  of  the  dagger.  The  tyrant,  after 
 twelve  years  of  bloodshed,  was  stabbed  in  his 
 palace.  His  successor,  Pertinax,  after  a  reign  of 
 three  months,  was  slain  by  his  guards.  The  pro- 
 fligate sale  of  the  empire  to  Julian  followed. 
 Three  candidates  for  the  diadem  took  the  field 
 against  him,  and  against  each  other,  at  the  head 
 of  the  British,  Syrian,  and  Pannonian  legions. 
 Julian  was  beheaded,  after  a  reign  of  two  months  ; 
 two  of  the  candidates  were  defeated  in  pitched 
 battles,   and  beheaded ;  Caracalla,   the  son  and 
 
 *  Gibbon,  vol.  i. 
 
 I  i  2 
 
484  PAGANISM. 
 
 successor  of  the  third,  assassinated  his  brother 
 Geta,  put  20,000  Romans  to  death,  under  pre- 
 tence of  conspiracies  to  avenge  the  fratricide  ;  and 
 then,  like  his  predecessors,  died  by  the  dagger. 
 Heliogabalus,  who  followed  him  to  the  throne, 
 followed  him  to  the  grave,  by  the  sw^ords  of  the 
 Praetorians.  Alexander  Severus,  his  successor, 
 was  cut  to  pieces  by  a  military  insurrection. 
 
 While  such  were  the  shocks  of  the  highest  sta- 
 tion of  human  existence,  what  must  be  the  ravage 
 of  private  life  ?  While  diadems  were  tossed  from 
 hand  to  hand  by  a  soldiery  or  a  rabble,  what  must 
 be  the  spoil  of  humbler  distinctions  ?  W  hile  the 
 palace  of  the  Ca3sars  was  the  seat  of  desolation, 
 what  must  be  the  misery  of  the  cottage — what  the 
 hideous  havoc  of  the  provinces  through  which 
 those  vast  armies,  contemptuous  of  all  rights  but 
 the  sword,  and  proud  of  their  faculty  of  giving 
 thrones  away,  rushed  to  encounter  each  other? 
 Every  struggle  enfeebled  the  strength  of  the  em- 
 pire ;  victory  or  defeat  was  alike  national  ruin. 
 Every  blow,  from  whatever  side  it  came,  alike 
 clave  away  some  portion  of  the  old  golden  armour 
 of  the  empire  ;  until,  at  last,  the  form  stood  naked, 
 and  the  fatal  discovery  was  made  by  the  barba- 
 rians, that  time  had  wrought  its  work  even  upon 
 the  colossal  frame  of  the  conqueror  of  the  world. 
 
 Yet  a  still  wilder  era  was  at  hand.  From  the 
 middle  of  the   third   century,  the  confusion  sud- 
 
PAGANISM.  485 
 
 denly  deepened.  As  if  some  new  spirit  of  pesti- 
 lence had  been  subtilized  from  the  universal 
 corruption,  the  empire  was  suddenly  thrown  into 
 a  violence  of  moral  disorder  that  threatened  in- 
 stant dissolution  ;  the  countenance  of  public  life 
 unaccountably  blackened  ;  all  government  was 
 anarchy  ;  all  power  was  frenzy  ;  all  ambition  was 
 perfidy,  bloodshed,  and  rapine.  But  the  direct 
 instrument  of  the  infliction,  the  tempest  in  which 
 were  combined  all  the  elements  of  ruin,  the  "torti 
 fulminis  iras,"  the  whirlwind,  the  hail,  and  the 
 fire,  was  war. 
 
 The  old  frontier  contests  had  passed  away  ;  the 
 struggle  was  now  within  the  bosom  of  the  empire. 
 As  if  another  Alecto  had  put  the  trumpet  to  her 
 lips,  every  province  burst  out  into  insurrection  ; 
 every  legion  looked  upon  itself  as  the  arbiter  of 
 the  throne.  The  Roman  world  was  filled  with 
 rivals  for  supremacy  ;  illustrious,  obscure,  war- 
 like, timid,  men  of  every  rank,  and  every  order  of 
 mind  ;  but  all  alike  committed  in  one  great  dis- 
 cordant league  for  the  desolation  of  Roman  gran- 
 deur. Maximin,  the  usurper  of  the  throne  of 
 Severus,  first  let  loose  the  sword  against  the 
 senate  and  people ;  he  fell  by  the  dagger.  All 
 thenceforth  was  indiscriminate  rebellion.  Six 
 imperial  rivals  rose  within  as  many  months,  and 
 perished ;  nineteen  usurpers,  at  the  head  of  ar- 
 mies, appeared  at  once  in  the  field  ;  "  and  the 
 election  of  those  precarious  emperors,  their  power, 
 
486  PAGANISM. 
 
 and  their  death,  were  equally  destructive'."  The 
 reign  of  Gallienus  was  one  boundless  insurrection. 
 Five  of  those  competitors  rose  in  the  East ;  five  in 
 Gaul  and  the  Western  provinces ;  three  in  the 
 lUyrian  and  Thracian  provinces ;  one  in  Pontus, 
 one  in  Isauria  ;  one  in  Thessaly  ;  one  in  Egypt ; 
 and  one  in  the  African  provinces.  The  whole 
 circle  of  the  empire  was  a  circle  of  flame. 
 
 "  Of  the  nineteen  rivals  who  started  up  under 
 the  reign  of  Gallienus,  history  tells  us  that  not 
 one  enjoyed  a  life  of  peace,  or  a  natural  death*." 
 But  their  hurried  seizure  of  authority,  its  anxious 
 possession,  and  its  precipitate  loss,  equally  implied 
 all  the  popular  suffering  involved  in  unsparing  ra- 
 pacity, cruel  precaution,  and  ferocious  massacre. 
 Kings,  raised  from  the  camp  to  perish  on  the 
 scaffold,  must  be  untrue  to  the  nature  of  fear  and 
 despotism,  if  they  were  not  careless  of  blood  in  the 
 passage. 
 
 This  was  Paganism,  so  often  boasted  of  as  the 
 harmless,  festive,  and  philosophic  servant  of  civil 
 rule ;  yet  half  its  evil  was  undisplayed,  for  its 
 aspect  as  a  persecutor  was  still  comparatively 
 covered  under  the  disguises  of  imperial  polity. 
 This  was  Paganism  among  Pagans  ;  the  tiger,  not 
 baring  its  talons  to  spring  upon  the  victim  thrown 
 to  it  expressly  to  be  torn  ;  but  wantoning  in  the 
 midst  of  its  pamperers  and  masters. 
 
 ^  Gibbon,  vol.  i.  ^  Ibid. 
 
PAGANISM.  487 
 
 Nor  are  we  to  fall  into  the  error  of  coiiceiviiio' 
 that  those  horrors  were  an  accidental  burst  of 
 frenzy.  Cruelty  was  an  acknowledged  principle  ; 
 and  massacre  a  legalized  form.  The  letter  of  the 
 emperor  Gallienus,  on  the  suppression  of  the  Illy- 
 rian  rebellion,  furnishes,  and  establishes,  the  policy 
 of  the  reign. 
 
 "It  is  not  enough,"  writes  this  depositary  of 
 supreme  law  to  his  officer,  "  that  you  exterminate 
 such  as  have  appeared  in  arms ;  the  chance  of 
 battle  might  have  served  me  as  effectually.  The 
 males  of  every  age  must  he  extirpated.  Let  every 
 one  die  who  has  dropped  an  expression,  who  has 
 entertained  a  thought  against  me.  Tear,  kill,  and 
 hew  in  pieces.  I  write  to  you  with  my  own  hand, 
 and  would  inspire  you  with  my  own  feeling s\''' 
 
 In  this  war  of  the  passions,  the  empire  was  has- 
 tening to  destruction.  The  strength  which  the 
 Romans  had  once  regarded  as  much  beyond  casu- 
 alty as  the  firmament  above  their  heads,  was 
 shaken  to  its  extremities.  The  sovereigns  and 
 leaders,  whom  by  one  of  the  most  natural  of  all 
 allusions,  the  mind  designates  as  the  suns  and 
 stars  of  the  political  heaven,  the  lights  and  guides 
 of  nations,  were  no  sooner  risen,  than  they  were 
 cast  from  their  spheres ;  all  was  darkness  and 
 change.     To  deepen  the  calamity,   the  barbarian 
 
 'Hist.  Aug.  118.     Gibbon  V.  1. 
 
488  PAGANISM. 
 
 nations,  relieved  from  the  pressure  of  the  legions, 
 assembled  in  new  force,  and,  pouring  over  the 
 frontier,  revenged  the  long  supremacy  of  Rome. 
 Even  the  powers  of  nature,  like  the  powers  of  em- 
 pire, were  now  to  be  stirred  into  sudden  disorder. 
 ''Inundations,  earthquakes,  uncommon  meteors," 
 increased  the  sufferings,  or  the  terrors  of  the 
 people.  An  unexampled  famine  followed,  in  part 
 the  work  of  nature,  in  part  of  the  abandonment  of 
 labour,  produced  by  the  misery  and  the  diminish- 
 ed numbers  of  the  population.  Still,  as  if  no  evil 
 were  to  be  spared  to  an  empire  which  in  the  midst 
 of  all  its  horrors  never  forgot  its  bitterness  to  the 
 name  of  Christian,  a  pestilence  broke  out,  the 
 longest  and  most  terrible  inhuman  record.  Con- 
 tinuing for  fifteen  years  \  it  covered  the  whole 
 extent  of  the  empire  with  corpses.  "  During 
 some  time  five  thousand  persons  died  daily  in 
 Rome."  It  is  estimated  from  documents  of  the 
 public  subsistence,  "  that  war,  pestilence,  and 
 famine  thus  consumed,  within  a  few  years,  one 
 half  of  the  human  species^ ." 
 
 The  unquestionable  result,  if  not  the  providen- 
 tial purpose,  of  those  events,  was  to  rend  and 
 dislocate  the  solid  mass  of  the  imperial  power,  pre- 
 paratory to  its  fall.  The  barbarian  tribes  which 
 were  to  be  the  instruments  of  the  catastrophe,  were 
 by   those  wars  accustomed  to  incursions  on  the 
 
 '  From  A.D.  2oO.  -  Gibbon,  vol.  i. 
 
PAGANISM.  489 
 
 Roman  territory,  and  to  the  usage  of  Roman  arms. 
 Sometimes  employed  by  the  rival  generals,  and 
 always  eager  spectators  of  their  combats,  they 
 acquired  a  gradual  knowledge  of  the  resources, 
 the  skill,  and  the  discipline  of  Rome.  Alaric  him- 
 self was  a  legionary  ;  the  mace  which  broke  down 
 the  gates  of  the  empire  was  forged  with  Roman 
 fire. 
 
CHAPTER  XL. 
 
 CONSTANTINE. 
 
 Thirty  years  of  comparative  peace  followed  this 
 convulsion  ;  but  the  empire  had  received  an  irre- 
 parable blow.  The  day  of  Christianity  was  come, 
 and  the  tempests  with  which  it  opened  were  per- 
 haps essential  to  invigorate  its  frame  for  the  severer 
 trials  of  prosperity.  It  had  to  suffer  heavily,  and 
 to  suffer  long.  Even  the  final  persecution  under 
 Galerius  was  the  most  violent  that  the  Church 
 had  ever  known. 
 
 A  sufficient  reason  for  this  suffering  may  be 
 found  in  the  schisms,  which  nothing  but  general 
 terror  could  reconcile  ;  and  in  the  existing  temp- 
 tations of  Paganism,  against  which  nothing  could 
 guard  the  converts  but  their  experience  of  its 
 cruelties. 
 
 At  last,  the  discipline  was  closed  ;  and  the  deli- 
 verance began.  The  dawn  broke  from  the  West. 
 The  famous  Constantine,  the  son  of  the  Roman 
 governor  of  Britain,  wlio  had  been  the  steady 
 protector  of  the  Christians  ;  (as  if  our  country  was, 
 
CONSTANTINE.  491 
 
 in  every  age,  to  be  the  birth-place  or  the  refuge  of 
 religion,)  raised  his  standard  against  Maxentius, 
 the  usurper  of  the  Roman  throne.  Breaking 
 through  the  armies  which  met  him  on  his  descent 
 from  the  Alps,  he  marched  to  find  his  rival,  and 
 rushed  onward  until  he  saw  the  army  of  Maxentius 
 drawn  up  before  the  gates  of  Rome.  On  that  day 
 one  of  the  most  memorable  changes  of  earth,  aris- 
 ing out  of  one  of  the  most  striking  interpositions  of 
 Heaven,  stamped  the  character  of  the  army,  the 
 victor,  and  the  empire. 
 
 Constantine  had  crossed  the  Alps  with  but 
 40,000  men  ;  Maxentius  was  at  the  head  of  an 
 army  of  175,000  foot,  and  18,000  horse.  The 
 force  which  now  covered  Rome  was  of  appalling- 
 superiority.  Constantine  was  the  first  soldier  of 
 his  age,  yet  even  his  undaunted  courage  might 
 well  have  pondered  on  the  chances  of  the  morrow. 
 But  he  had  a  hidden  source  of  anxiety,  which  in 
 the  later  ages  of  Rome  haunted  the  most  powerful 
 minds  ;  Maxentius  was  believed  to  have  strength- 
 ened his  arms  by  magic.  The  spirits  that  disposed 
 of  thrones  at  the  command  of  the  magician,  were 
 still  more  appalling  than  the  armed  multitudes  of 
 the  warrior. 
 
 In  the  simple,  but  most  striking,  narrative  which 
 Eusebius  gives,  from  the  lips  of  Constantine  him- 
 self, long  after  he  was  master  of  the  world,  and 
 had  neither  rivalry  to  dread  nor  feeling  to  dis- 
 guise, we   are   told  that,   on  the  day  before  the 
 
492  CONSTANTINE. 
 
 battle,  "  thinking  that  he  had  need  of  force  supe- 
 rior to  that  of  arms  to  surmount  the  magic  arts  of 
 Maxentius,  he  first  looked  to  the  gods.  But  he 
 then  began  to  reflect,  that  those  emperors  who 
 had  relied  on  the  multitude  of  gods  had  come  to 
 an  evil  end,  and  had  been  deceived  by  their 
 oracles  ;  while  his  father  Constantius,  who  during 
 his  whole  life  had  honoured  One  Sovereign  God, 
 had  received  evident  marks  of  his  protection.  He 
 now  considered,  that  it  was  a  folly  to  honour  gods 
 which  were  nothing,  and  that  he  ought  to  worship 
 only  the  God  of  his  father.  He  then  invoked 
 Him,  praying  fervently  that  he  would  make  him- 
 self known,  and  help  him.  While  he  was  pray- 
 ing, he  saw  an  extraordinary  sign  ;  and  such  as, 
 if  any  other  person  had  told  him  of  it,  he  would 
 scarcely  have  believed.  But  I,"  says  Eusebius, 
 "  who  write  this  history,  and  heard  the  emperor 
 himself,  long  after,  when  I  had  the  honour  of  fa- 
 miliarly conversing  with  him,  tell  this,  and  with  an 
 oath,  how  can  I  refuse  it  credit  ?  A  little  after 
 the  hour  of  noon,  and  while  the  sun  was  almost  in 
 mid-heaven,  he  saw  on  the  surface  of  that  body  a 
 cross,  resplendent  with  light,  with  the  inscription, 
 '  By  this  conquer  /'  which  gave  him  great  surprise, 
 as  well  as  the  soldiers  who  were  on  the  march  with 
 him,  and  who  also  were  its  witnesses'." 
 
 The  "  Sign  of  the  Son  of  Man,^'  the  cross,  the 
 peculiar  emblem  of  Christianity,  had  thus  been 
 
 '  Vita  Const. 
 
CONSTANTINE.  493 
 
 shown  to  Constantine  under  circumstances  of  the 
 most  conspicuous  and  convincing  nature.  But, 
 though  habitually  disposed  by  his  father's  ex- 
 ample to  respect  Christianity,  he  was  not  yet  a 
 Christian.  In  a  vision,  that  night,  the  form  of 
 our  Lord  appeared  to  him,  commanding  him  to 
 inscribe  the  shields  of  his  army  with  the  "  celes- 
 tial sign  of  God,''  the  cross.  The  command  was 
 obeyed  ;  the  sign  was  adopted,  and  the  troops, 
 with  the  cross  on  their  shields,  marched  to  the 
 attack  of  Maxentius,  and  drove  his  enormous  host 
 from  the  field.  In  their  retreat  to  Rome  by  the 
 Milvian  bridge,  Maxentius  was  forced  into  the 
 Tiber  by  the  flying  multitude,  and  drowned.  The 
 Cross,  from  this  period,  became  the  universal  sign 
 of  the  troops  of  Constantine.  "The  Cross  glit- 
 tered on  their  helmets,  it  was  engraved  on  their 
 shields,  it  was  interwoven  into  their  banners." — 
 The  emperor  ordered  that  the  Cross  sliould  form 
 the  principal  standard  of  the  army.  This  standard, 
 named  the  Laharum,  was  "  a  long  pike  inter- 
 sected by  a  transversal  beam.  The  silken  veil 
 which  hung  down  from  the  beam,  was  curiously 
 inwrought  with  the  images  of  the  reigning  mo- 
 narch and  his  children.  The  summit  of  the  pike 
 supported  a  crown  of  gold  which  enclosed  the 
 monogram,  at  once  expressive  of  the  figure  of  the 
 Cross,  and  of  the  initial  letters  of  the  name  of 
 Christ'." 
 
 '  Gibbon,  v.  2. 
 
CHAPTER  XLL 
 
 THE  VISION  OF  CONSTANTINE. 
 
 The  interest  of  a  subject  which  has  occupied  the 
 most  learned  pens  of  Europe,  might  justify  a 
 longer  discussion  than  can  be  indulged  in  these 
 pages.  It  can  be  here  adverted  to  scarcely  more 
 than  as  one  of  the  instances  of  that  culpable  and 
 dangerous  compliance,  which  belonged  to  a  decay- 
 ing age  of  theological  vigour.  We  have  in  it  the 
 example  of  an  unquestionable  fact,  of  the  first 
 importance  as  a  feature  of  history,  the  seal  of  one 
 of  the  greatest  transactions  of  the  world,  and  the 
 direct  subject  of  prophecy,  sacrificed  to  a  sneer ; 
 the  work  of  inveterate  infidelity  done  by  spurious 
 moderation. 
 
 On  the  revival  of  religion  in  the  sixteenth  cen- 
 tury, the  character  of  the  monkish  miracles  had 
 thrown  a  shade  over  all  miracle ;  and  the  vision 
 of  the  Cross,  strongly  upheld  by  the  Papal  writers 
 as  a  plea  for  the  prevalent  homage  to  the  Crucifix, 
 became  a  subject  of  close  inquiry. 
 
 Jaques  Godefroy,   of  Geneva,    in  an  edition  of 
 
 1 
 
THE    VISION    OF    CONSTANTINE.  495 
 
 Pliilostorgus,  in  1G42,  compiled  the  objections  ; 
 which,  however,  were  found  to  amount  only  to 
 the  discrepancies  of  the  various  narratives.  The 
 feebleness  of  this  species  of  argument  was  easily 
 exposed,  and  the  topic  became  a  general  trial  of 
 skill  among  the  learned.  At  length  the  world  grew 
 weary  of  this  verbal  contest ;  the  novelty  was 
 gone,  and  the  fact  was  left,  unshaken  and  ne- 
 glected, until  the  close  of  the  last  century.  Gib- 
 bon then  came,  the  disciple  of  French  infidelity,  to 
 embody  the  scepticism  of  all  ages  and  his  own, 
 in  that  history,  which  gives  3o  strong  an  evidence 
 of  the  bitter  prejudices  that  may  render  learning 
 worthless,  sagacity  a  dupe,  and  the  vigour  of 
 highly  cultivated  ability  only  the  vigour  of  in- 
 fatuation. Connected  as  the  vision  of  the  Cross 
 was  with  Christianity,  it  naturally  became  an 
 object  of  his  spleen.  Some  hostility  might  have 
 been  expected  from  an  avowed  infidel ;  but  Gib- 
 bon's practices  on  this  occasion  are  actuall}^  dis- 
 ingenuous and  pitiful  in  the  extreme.  He  ex- 
 hibits, throughout,  a  palpable  consciousness  that 
 the  evidence  is  too  strong  for  him,  and  an  equally 
 palpable  determination  to  swindle  the  reader  into 
 disbelief,  if  he  can.  He  begins  circuitously,  by 
 a  general  insinuation  of  the  liability  of  the  human 
 senses  to  be  deceived,  and  the  tendency  of  all 
 narrators  to  exaggerate.  He  then  proceeds  to 
 prove  the  improbability  of  the  narrative — by  taking 
 every  step  of  his  argument  for  ijranted  ;  he  first 
 
496  THE    VISION    OF    CONSTANTINE. 
 
 supposes  all  miracle  to  be  artifice  ;  he  then  supposes 
 Constantine  to  have  been  an  impostor,  "  who  knew 
 the  advantage  of  appealing  to  the  superstitions  of 
 his  troops."  (The  superstitions  of  a  Pagan  army, 
 in  the  midst  of  a  Pagan  empire,  in  favour  of 
 Christianity  !)  Yie  then  supposes  \\\e  majority  of  the 
 army  to  have  been  Christians,  or  Germans,  whom 
 he  equally  supposes  to  have  cared  nothing  about 
 the  matter.  He  then  contradictorily  supposes 
 Constantine  not  to  have  been  an  impostor,  but  a 
 dupe  and  an  enthusiast ;  and  finally  supposes  the 
 whole  narrative  to  have  been  the  "elegant  in- 
 vention, the  Christian  fable,  of  Eusebius,  moulded 
 out  of  a  dream,  at  the  distance  of  a  quarter  of  a 
 century."  But,  at  this  point  he  reverses  his 
 whole  position.  Having  scoffed  the  statement  out 
 of  all  credibility,  he  grows  sensitive  for  his  own. 
 He  has  indisposed  the  mind  to  truth  by  con- 
 tempt, he  may  now  concede  without  danger,  and 
 he  concedes  with  the  liberality  of  an  advocate. 
 After  having  shot  his  bitterest  shaft  as  an  infidel, 
 he  secures  his  retreat  as  a  historian,  by  the  actual 
 acknowledgment,  that,  for  the  transaction,  there  is 
 all  the  evidence  that  can  be  given  by  contemporary 
 medals  and  inscriptions,  by  public  monuments, 
 and  by  the  immediate  establishment  of  the  Cross 
 as  the  imperial  banner ! 
 
 But,  turning  away  from  this  melancholy  ex- 
 ample of  historic  dishonesty  and  personal  degra- 
 dation ;  it  is  to  be  observed,  in  the  first  place,  that 
 
THE    VISION    OF    CONSTANTINE.  497 
 
 we  have  against  the  narrative  no  evidence  what- 
 ever ;   while  for  it  we  have  the   admitted  facts, — 
 that  the  Cross  was  adopted  as  the  "  sign"  of  the 
 Roman  troops  long  before  Constantine  was  master 
 of  the  empire,  and  longer  still  before  the  empire 
 ceased  to  be  Pagan — that  a  statue  was  erected  to 
 Constantine   in   Rome  within   three  years  of  the 
 defeat  of  Maxentius,    in  which  the  figure  bore  a 
 javelin  with  a  transverse  bar  at  the  top  (probably 
 as  close  an  imitation  of  the  Cross  as  he  could 
 venture  to  adopt  in  a  city,   still  the   chief  seat  of 
 Paganism),   with  an  inscription  referring,   in  the 
 same  cautious  style,   to  Divine  aid — "  Instinctu 
 divmitatis,    mentis    magnitudine"  —  that  medals 
 exist,  some  with  the  bust  of  Constantine  on  the 
 obverse,  and   on   the  reverse,  two  standards  up- 
 right, and  between  them  a  large  Cross,   with  the 
 legend,    "Gloria   Exercitus;"   others   having  on 
 the  reverse  two  figures  of  victory  standing,  and 
 between  them  a  buckler,  on  which  is  a   Cross — 
 that  Constantine  wore  the  monogram  of  the  Cross 
 on  his  helmet ;  and  that  this  monogram  is  found 
 on   his   medals.     Those  would  be   sufficient  evi- 
 dences for  any  historic  statement.    But  Du  Voisin, 
 whose  book  on  the  subject  closed  the  original  con- 
 troversy, and  to  whom  Gibbon  gives  the  reluctant 
 praise  of   "learning  and    moderation,"   supplies 
 us  with  additional  contemporary  evidence.     Arte- 
 mius,  an  officer  in  the  army  of  Constantine  (after- 
 wards martyred  by  Julian,)  distinctly  states,  in  his 
 
 Kk 
 
498  THE    VISION    OF    CONSTANTINE. 
 
 ''  Acts,"  that — "  Constantine  was  called  by  Jesus 
 Christ  to  the  true  religion,  at  the  time  of  that 
 obstinate  combat  in  which  Maxentius  was  defeated. 
 For  then,  at  the  hour  of  mid-day,  the  sign  of  the 
 Cross  appeared  in  heaven,  brighter  than  the  sun, 
 with  an  inscription  in  golden  letters,  by  which 
 victory  was  promised  to  Constantine.  I  myself 
 saw  that  sign  and  read  that  inscription,  as  well  as 
 all  who  formed  the  army  of  that  prince,  many  of 
 whom  are  still  living,  and  in  your  army."  Du 
 Voisin  gives  other  testimonies  equally  strong. 
 
 Yet,  what  is  the  whole  difficulty?  The  state- 
 ment of  Eusebius  is  given  with  every  mark  of 
 simple  truth.  What  object  could  Constantine  be 
 supposed  to  have  in  detailing  a  falsehood  on  the 
 subject,  twenty-five  years  after  the  diadem  of  the 
 world  was  on  his  brow  ?  We  see  the  great  con- 
 queror, the  foremost  man  of  the  earth,  stating  a 
 circumstance  in  his  early  career,  which  accounted 
 for  the  chief  instance  of  his  good  fortune,  his' 
 defeat  of  Maxentius,  and  the  most  momentous 
 event  of  his  life,  his  conversion  ;  in  grave  confi- 
 dence to  an  ecclesiastic  of  high  rank  and  name ; 
 and  we  are  to  suppose  that  this  most  eminent 
 person  existing,  swears  to  a  foolish  fabrication  of 
 his  own,  without  regard  to  either  dignity  or  con- 
 science ;  and  even  without  the  small  palliative  of 
 any  conceivable  object.  Gibbon's  conception  of 
 Constantine  in  this  instance,  is  that  of  a  crafty  old 
 statesman   lying   to  delude  a  monk.      The   true 
 
THE    VISION    OF    CONSTANTINE.  4i)9 
 
 view  would  be,  that  of  a  mighty  monarch,  long- 
 past  the  period  of  earthly  insecurity,  calmly  con- 
 versing with  a  Christian  bishop,  on  the  Divine 
 interposition  which  had  guided  his  way  to  univer- 
 sal power,  and  stamped  the  greatest  revolution  in 
 the  records  of  empire.  No  topic  could  be  more 
 natural  to  the  memory  of  a  man  of  the  highest 
 success  and  the  highest  mind,  and  no  statement  of 
 such  a  conversation  could  be  more  like  the  truth, 
 than  the  plain  and  natural  language  in  which  it  is 
 given  by  Eusebius. 
 
 The  common  objections — "why  hav^  we  not 
 the  evidence  of  the  army  ? — why  has  not  the  mi- 
 racle been  detailed  by  every  writer  who  has  men- 
 tioned the  reign  ? — are  mere  trifling.  How  few  in 
 any  army  see,  or  seeing,  remember  circumstances 
 which  afterwards  make  the  pith  of  history  ?  How 
 few  soldiers,  busied  in  preparation  for  the  mor- 
 row's fight,  would  think  of  recording  any  appear- 
 ance above  their  heads,  while  the  enemy's  line  lay 
 before  them  ?  Nor  was  it  so  much  the  phenomenon 
 of  the  day,  as  the  vision  of  the  subsequent  night, 
 that  made  the  complete  impression  on  Constantine 
 himself,  prepared  as  he  was  by  prayer.  The  chief 
 immediate  purport  of  the  sign  was  in  the  inscrip- 
 tion. The  inscription  was  in  Greek,  (perhaps 
 with  Divine  reference  alike  to  the  lano-uaere  of  the 
 New  Testament,  and  to  that  portion  of  the  empire 
 in  which  the  kingdom  of  Christianity  was  to  be 
 first  established.)    But  the  army  of  Constantine  was 
 
 Kk  2 
 
500  THE    VISION    OF    CONSTANTINE. 
 
 composed  of  the  British  Legionaries.     How  few  of 
 those  could  be  conceived  to  understand  Greek  ? 
 
 But  the  Sign  is  the  subject  of  direct  narratives  of 
 the  time,  Artemius,  Philostorgus,  &c.  and  of  sub- 
 sequent authorities,  Socrates,  Sozomen,   Theodo- 
 ret,  Ike.     As  to  the  want  of  publicity,  are  we  to 
 conceive  that  in  the  ancient  world  matters  of  pub- 
 lic intelligence  were  collected  with  the  eagerness, 
 and  propagated  with  the  activity  of  our  day ;  or 
 that  the  middle  of  a  furious  civil  war,  and  general 
 shock  of  society,   was   the  time  for  their  circula- 
 tion ?  But  the  soldiery  did  give  the  most  sufficient 
 and  extraordinary  testimony  to  the  truth  of  the 
 phenomenon,  by  adopting  the  Cross,  at  the  mo- 
 ment, as  the  Sign  of  the  Roman  army.     It  is  im- 
 possible  to  account  for    this    adoption  by    mere 
 attachment   to  their  general,  or  by  any  human 
 motives.     The  fidelity  of  the  Roman  soldier  to  his 
 standard  was  a  principle   superseding  all  others. 
 The  countless  majority  of  the  population  were  still 
 Pagan  ;  so,  of  course,  must  have  been  the  majority 
 of  the  troops.     The  government  was  Pagan,  the 
 senate  was  Pagan,  Constantine   himself  was  Pa- 
 gan.    Christianity  was  still  a  scorned  sect.     But 
 a  few    years  before  it  had  been   denounced  and 
 stigmatized   by   every  organ  of  the   government. 
 The    offence  of  the    Cross  was    undisguised ;  the 
 Roman  soldier  would  have  felt  himself  deo:raded 
 by  a  badge,  which  to  the  Roman  millions  must 
 have  represented  only  ignominy  and  crime.    Yet, 
 
THE    VISION    OF    CONSTANTINE.  501 
 
 at  the  moment,  40,000  legionaries  are  seen  aban- 
 doning the  standards  that  were  to  them  as  gods  ' ; 
 and  binding  on  their  helmets,  and  carving  on  their 
 shields,  the  emblem,  of  all  emblems  the  most 
 marked  by  proverbial  scorn,  the  unwarlike  and 
 abhorred  sign  of  the  punishment  of  a  slave. 
 
 How  is  this  to  be  accounted  for,  but  by  some 
 supernatural  impression,  which  impelled  the 
 troops  to  look  upon  the  adoption  of  the  Cross  as 
 the  will,  not  of  man,  but  of  a  Power  to  whom  man 
 is  the  dust  of  the  balance  ?  It  might  be  done  by  a 
 great  celestial  wonder,  a  Cross  of  glory  flashing- 
 its  lustres  across  the  heavens,  and  showing  irresist- 
 ibly to  all  eyes  and  understandings,  that  the 
 stigma  of  the  Cross  was  no  more.  But  by  what 
 demonstration  less  conspicuous  and  convincing 
 could  it  be  done  ? 
 
 But  was  the  Divine  interposition  in  the  cause  of 
 Christianity  now  exhibited  for  the  first  time  by 
 phenomena  in  the  skies  ? — A  burst  of  divine  glory 
 had  announced  the  birth  at  Bethlehem,  and  an- 
 nounced it  to  shepherds — a  star  had  floated  above 
 the  cradle  of  the  mighty  Infant,  and  been  the 
 guide  to  an  obscure  groupe  of  Chaldee  pilgrims — 
 A  powerfully  significant  sign  from  Heaven  had 
 taught  a  solitary  apostle,  that  the  time  was  come 
 
 '  The  Roman  idols  and  effigies  of  the  emperors  were  among 
 the  military  standards,  and  they  received  worship.  "  Rcligio 
 Romanorum  Castrensis  signa  veneratur ;  signa  jurat."  (TertuU.) 
 
502  THE    VISION    OF    CONSTANTINE. 
 
 for  the  conversion  of  the  Gentiles — A  pillar  of  di- 
 vine flame  had  descended  on  a  simple  missionary 
 of  the  Sanhedrin,  on  his  way  to  Damascus,  and 
 prepared  him  for  that  career,  of  which  its  splen- 
 dour and  purity  were  the  truest  symbols.  Was 
 the  conversion  of  a  monarch,  an  army,  and  an 
 empire,  more  unworthy  of  a  Divine  token,  than 
 the  instruction  of  a  prejudiced,  or  the  rebuke  of 
 a  persecuting,  follower  of  the  Law  of  Moses  ?  It  is 
 remarkable  that  the  greatest  of  the  prophecies, 
 the  Apocalypse,  which  still  cheers  and  enlightens 
 the  Christian  world,  reveals  the  first  age  of  Chris- 
 tian triumph  under  the  figure  of  a  monarch  riding 
 forth  to  victory,  with  the  Divine  promise  of  "cwz- 
 quering  and  to  conquer. ""  But  the  Cross  of  Con- 
 stantine  possesses  a  still  more  direct  distinction. 
 It  was  the  object  of  our  Lord's  personal  prophecy ; 
 the  evidence  by  which  he  was  to  proclaim  the 
 foundation  of  his  kingdom. 
 
 As  at  the  cessation  of  the  Deluge,  the  pledge 
 of  Divine  protection  to  the  patriarchal  church  was 
 given  in  the  rainbow,  the  Sign  of  the  Covenant 
 of  God  ;  so  at  the  close  of  that  judgment  which 
 wrecked  Judah,  and  was  now  to  extinguish  the 
 empire  of  Paganism,  the  sign  of  protection  to 
 the  Christian  church  was  given  in  that  Cross  in 
 heaven,  which  led  the  first  Christian  monarch  to 
 victory,  and  placed  Christianity  on  the  universal 
 throne. 
 
CHAPTER  XLII. 
 
 THE  SECOND  ADVENT. 
 
 The  prophecy  of  the  second  coming  of  the  Mes- 
 siah, contained  in  the  24th  chapter  of  St.  Matthew, 
 and  the  corresponding  chapters  of  St.  Mark  and 
 St.  Luke',  is  so  closely  connected  with  the  "Sign," 
 and  constitutes  so  distinct  and  wondrous  an  evi- 
 dence of  the  prophetic  power  of  our  Lord,  of  his 
 personal  care  for  his  disciples,  and  of  the  govern- 
 ment exercised  by  him  as  providential  King  of  the 
 world,  that  it  forms  one  of  the   most  important 
 portions  of  the  whole  science  of  the  Scriptures. 
 Its  importance,  however,   has  drawn  upon  it  the 
 misfortune  of  the  most  perplexing  variety  of  inter- 
 pretations.    The  whole  prophecy  has  thus  been, 
 by  some,  conceived  to  limit  itself  to  the  destruc- 
 tion of  Jerusalem  ;  and  by  others,  to  mingle  that 
 destruction   throughout  with  the  final  judgment. 
 But  all  the  interpretations  end  in  wrapping  the 
 truth  in  heavier  folds,  and  leaving  the  impression 
 
 *  Mark  xiii.  Luke  xxi. 
 
504  THE    SECOND    ADVENT. 
 
 on  the  reader,  that  this  prophecy  singularly 
 deviates  from  the  characteristic  simplicity  of 
 Scripture. 
 
 Three  hypotheses  have  been  offered,  to  explain 
 the  portion  of  the  prophecy  peculiarly  relating  to 
 the  second  advent ;  for  the  earlier  portion  is  uni- 
 versally and  justly  referred  to  the  fall  of  Jerusa- 
 lem.— By  the  first  hypothesis,  the  coming  of 
 Christ  and  the  convulsions  of  the  heavens  and 
 earth,  imply  only  the  destruction  of  the  Jewish 
 state \  But  this  is  refuted  by  the  distinct  decla- 
 ration of  the  text ,  that  those  convulsions  shall 
 not  exist  until  a  period  subsequent  to  the  Jewish 
 calamities.  {^^  After  the  tribulation,"  Mtra  rrw 
 OXixPtv.) — By  the  second,  those  convulsions  are 
 conceived  to  refer  to  the  judgment  and  final  de- 
 struction of  the  world  ^  But  this  is  equally  over- 
 thrown by  the  text,  which  declares  that  they 
 shall  immediately  succeed  the  close  of  the  Jewish 
 calamities.  (Straightway,  in  direct  succession, 
 £u0£wt,-.) — By  the  third,  the  Jewish  '•  tribulation" 
 is  supposed  to  imply  the  whole  interval  from  the 
 fall  of  the  state  to  the  end  of  the  world  ;  the  con- 
 vulsions of  the  heavens  implying  the  end  of  all 
 things  \    But  this,  like  the  former,  is  overthrown 
 
 '  Whitby,  &c.  Hammond  conceives  that  there  may  be  some 
 emblematic  reference  to  the  final  judgment. 
 
 ^  This  seems  to  have  been  the  general  opinion  among  the 
 leading  Fathers. 
 
 ^  Bishop  Horsley's  daring  hypothesis.     In  his  usual  style, 
 
THE    SECOND    ADVENT.  505 
 
 by  the  text ;  which  declares  that  the  Jewish  "  tri- 
 bulation" there  contemplated  should  close  within 
 a  brief  period,  and  that  it  was,  in  fact,  so  limited 
 by  the  Divine  hand,  for  the  express  safety  of  the 
 Church  existing  in  Judaea  ;  a  declaration  obviously 
 extinguishing  all  reference  to  the  centuries  which 
 have  elapsed  since  that  Church  ceased  to  exist,  at 
 the  final  fall  of  the  nation  under  Hadrian. 
 
 The  following  interpretation  of  this  great  pro- 
 phecy, formed  on  the  combined  statements  of  the 
 three  Evangelists,  is  proposed,  as  giving  a  view 
 of  its  successive  features,  divested  of  their  usual 
 difficulties,  and  consistent  with  the  general  clear- 
 ness of  Scripture. 
 
 Matt,  xxiii.  38,  39.  Our  Lord  had  concluded 
 his  public  teaching  in  Jerusalem  by  a  tremendous 
 denunciation  of  Divine  wrath  on  the  Pharisees 
 and  the  people.  His  last  words  were,  that  their 
 Temple  should  be  wholly  desecrated  once  more 
 — "  Their  House  shall  be  left  to  them  desolate,'' 
 and  that  he  should  never  enter  it  again,  as  their 
 Messiah,  until  a  converted  nation  received  him  at 
 his  Second  Coming,  with  shouts  for  "  Him  who 
 cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord." 
 
 he  cuts  the  knot.    But  this  only  involves  him  in  stronger  con- 
 tradiction with  the  original. 
 
506  THE    SECOND    ADVENT. 
 
 Matt.  xii.  41.  He  then  departed,  followed  by 
 his  disciples.  On  his  way  through  the  Temple,  he 
 seems  to  have  taken  a  final  opportunity  of  express- 
 ing his  scorn  of  the  national  character,  by  con- 
 trasting the  hypocritical  ostentation  of  the  rich 
 with  the  offering  of  the  widow. 
 
 He  then  went  out  from  the  city  by  the  way 
 leading  to  the  Mount  of  Olives.  The  aspect  of 
 the  Temple  on  this  side  was  of  unequalled  gran- 
 deur ;  and  some  of  the  disciples,  probably  with  a 
 heavy  heart,  at  the  denunciation  of  its  sacrilege', 
 turned,  to  remark  to  him  on  the  extraordinary 
 beauty  of  its  buildings,  and  the  costliness  of  its 
 marble  walls.  Our  Lord  now  declared,  perhaps 
 with  an  addition  to  the  force  of  his  former  lan- 
 guage, that  its  catastrophe  was  to  be  total  ruin. 
 "  The  days  shall  come,  when  there  shall  not  be 
 left  one  stone  upon  another." 
 
 Christ  now  ascended  the  Mount  of  Olives  ; 
 from  which  the  whole  city  lay  beneath  the  eye. 
 The  four  Apostles,  Peter,  James,  John,  and  An- 
 drew,  of  whom  three  had  been  with  him  on  the 
 
 '  The  desolation  was  probably  not  conceived  by  the  disciples 
 to  amount  to  a  total  ruin.  For  though  "  desolate"  was  the  word 
 used  by  Daniel  to  express  its  state  in  the  captivity ;  the  deso- 
 lation by  Antiochus  Epiphanes  had  created  the  latest  terror  in 
 the  popular  mind.  His  standard  was  "  The  abomination  of 
 desolation."  (Maccabees.)  And  the  public  feeling,  from  Mala- 
 chi's  prophecy,  undoubtedly,  was,  that  the  Temple  should  stand, 
 at  least  until  the  triuni})hant  coming  of  the  Messiah. 
 
THE    SECOND    ADVENT.  O07 
 
 mount  of  transfiguration,  and  were  evidently  ad- 
 mitted to  his  peculiar  confidence,  and  the  fourth 
 was  one  of  his  first  disciples,  now  came,  apart 
 from  the  rest,  to  ask  for  such  knowledge  as  it 
 might  be  his  high  will  to  impart,  on  subjects  of 
 such  natural  interest  to  the  man  of  Judaea.  Their 
 questions  were,  "  When  shall  those  things  be  ; 
 and  what  shall  be  the  sign  of  thy  coming,  and 
 the  end  of  the  world?"  (The  end  of  the pj'esent 
 er'a  of  the  world,  awTiXaia  tov  ani)vog  \)    Our  Lord, 
 
 '  As  an  instance  of  the  labour  which  this  prediction  has  oc- 
 cupied, this  simple  inquiry  has  given  birth  to  four  hypotheses. 
 The  first,  that  there  is  but  one  question,  and  that  it  wholly  re- 
 fers to  the  fall  of  Jerusalem.  (Whitby,  Hammond,  Newton, 
 Wakefield,  &c.)  The  second,  that  there  are  two,  comprehend- 
 ing the  national  ruin  and  the  regeneration.  (Tertullian,  Light- 
 foot,  &c.)  The  third,  that  there  are  three,  and  that  their  chief 
 reference  is  to  the  end  of  the  world.  (Clarke,  Porteus,  &c.) 
 The  fourth,  that  there  are  three,  but  severally  referring  to  the 
 fall  of  Jerusalem,  the  sign  of  the  second  coming,  and  the 
 general  judgment. 
 
 The  second  hypothesis  seems  the  true  one.  In  the  denunciation 
 in  the  Temple,  our  Lord  had  declared,  that  "  all  those  things" 
 should  come.  What  were  those  tilings  ?  Vengeance  for  the 
 murders  committed  by  their  ancestors  on  the  prophets,  and  to  be 
 brought  to  the  full  by  their  o^vn  cruelties  to  the  future  mission- 
 aries of  the  Gospel.  "  That  upon  you  may  come  all  the  righteous 
 blood  shed  upon  the  earth."  "  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  all  those 
 things  shall  come  upon  this  generation."  But  our  Lord  had  also 
 said,  in  pronouncing  the  desolation  of  the  Temple,  that  a  time 
 should  arrive  when  he  was  to  return,  and  be  received  in  triumph 
 by  the  nation.    This  period  every  Jew,  in  all  ages,  contemplated, 
 
508  THE    SECOND    ADVENT. 
 
 according  to  his  custom,  first  turned  their  curi- 
 osity into  a  caution  :  He  warned  them  against 
 their  national  Hability  to  err.  "Take  heed  that 
 no  man  deceive  you  ;"  for  false  Messiahs  were  to 
 deceive  many.  Having  given  them  the  caution,  he 
 detailed  the  nature  of  the  coming  calamity,  and 
 prepared  them  for  it  by  its  evidences  \  Those 
 evidences  were  to  be — first,  sudden  public  com- 
 motions in  Judaea  and  the  neighbouring  kingdoms, 
 and  earthquakes,  famines,  and  extraordinary  me- 
 teors in  the  heavens.  Still  the  spirit  of  his  detail 
 was  caution  ;  and  he  guarded  the  disciples  against 
 premature  fear,  or  flight  from  their  country,  by  tell- 
 ing them  that  those  tumults  were  not  the  immediate 
 sign  of  the  national  ruin  :  they  were  but  "  the  be- 
 ginnings of  sorrows  ^."  He  warned  them,  however, 
 that  they  should  be  personally  in  peril  from  ano- 
 ther and  an  earlier  source.     They  should  be  per- 
 
 and  knew  by  the  name  of  the  times  of  refreshing — the  regene- 
 ration— the  end  of  the  existing  order  of  things — the  consum- 
 mation of  the  Aibn.  The  idea  of  the  extinction  of  the  world 
 seems  never  to  have  entered  into  the  thought  of  any  Jew  ;  and 
 it  was  even  incompatible  with  their  hopes  of  the  kingdom  of  the 
 Messiah.  Thus,  they  ask  him  two  questions,  both  of  the  most 
 natural  kind,  yet  completely  contrasted  :  the  first  adopting  our 
 Lord's  own  words  yet  echoing  in  their  ears,  "  All  those  things 
 shall  come  ?"  asks,  "  When  shall  all  those  things,"  when  shall 
 the  vengeance,  come  ? — the  next  the  equally  anxious  ques- 
 tion, "  What  shall  be  the  sign  of  thy  coming  ?"  What  shall  tell 
 us  of  the  approach  of  the  restoration  ? 
 
 '  Matt.  xxiv.  C.  '  Luke  xxi.  12. 
 
THE    SECOND    ADVENT.  509 
 
 secuted  by  their  countrymen.  "  They  shall  deliver 
 you  up  to  the  synagogues,  and  in  the  synagogues 
 ye  shall  be  beaten."  The  prophecy  goes  to" the 
 exactness  of  stating,  what  to  the  Jew  must  have 
 seemed  three  most  improbable  circumstances; 
 that  they  should  be  brought  before  kings  to 
 plead  for  their  religion  ;  that  the  result  of  their 
 sufferings  should  be  the  actual  increase  of  their 
 religion;  and  that  the  promise  of  the  Gospel 
 should  be  shared  with  the  heathen. 
 
 Matt.  xiii.  9.  He  next  announced  a  totally  new 
 scene  of  trial,  the  heathen  world  :  and  declared 
 the  new  power  given  for  the  purpose  by  the  Holy 
 Spirit,  the  wisdom,  reasoning,  and  knowledge, 
 which  no  human  opposition  could  overthrow.' 
 ''The  Gospel  must  first  be  published  among  all 
 nations  (.0v,,  the  heathen).  But  when  they  shall 
 bind  you  and  deliver  you  up,  take  no  thought 
 before-hand  what  you  shall  speak.  For  /  will 
 give  you  a  mouth  and  wisdom." 
 
 Matt.  xiii.  12.  But  the  persecution  in  this  new 
 scene  of  Christianity,  was  to  be  much  more  vio- 
 lent and  extensive  than  in  the  former.  The  con- 
 verts were  to  be  betrayed  on  all  sides,  and  merci- 
 lessly slain.  They  were  to  become  an  object  of 
 universal  hatred.  -  Ye  shall  be  hated  of  all 
 nations  (the  heathen)  for  my  sake."  The  vio- 
 lence of  the  persecution  was  to  have  the  effect 
 of  terrifying  many  into  apostasy.  -And  then 
 shall  many   be   offended,    and    shall   betray  one 
 
510  THE    SECOND    ADVENT. 
 
 another."  But  those  disciples  who  held  their 
 faith  to  the  end,  should  be  preserved,  notwithstand- 
 ing the  national  ruin .  The  precise  arrival  of  this 
 period,  was  to  be  intimated  by  the  general  plant- 
 ing of  the  Gospel  in  the  regions  of  heathenism. 
 Then  the  peculiar  calamities  of  Judah  were  to 
 begin.  "  This  Gospel  shall  be  preached  among 
 all  the  heathen,  and  then  shall  the  end  come." 
 
 Matt.  xiii.  14.  But  the  fact,  which  was  to  an- 
 nounce the  moment  to  fly  from  Jerusalem,  was 
 to  be  the  approach  of  the  Roman  army  to  the 
 city  itself.  ''  When  ye  shall  see  the  abomination 
 of  desolation,"  (or,  as  in  Luk^  xxi.  20,  "when 
 ye  shall  see  Jerusalem  compassed  with  armies,") 
 *'  then  know  that  the  desolation  draweth  nigh." 
 The  flight  was  then  to  be  instantaneous ;  accord- 
 ing to  the  strong  expressions, — "  Let  him  that  is 
 on  the  housetop  not  go  down  into  the  house  to 
 take  any  thing.  Let  him  that  is  in  the  field  not 
 return,"  to  take  even  his  clothes.  For  then  shall 
 be  the  national  fall '. 
 
 For  then  shall  the  denunciations  of  the  pro- 
 phets be  realized  ;  "  All  things  which  are  written 
 shall  be  fulfilled."  And  the  suffering  shall  be 
 thi^eefold — slaughter,  captivity,  and  national  dis- 
 solution :  Judah  remaining  in  a  state  of  public 
 extinction  ;  until  the  work  of  Providence,  with 
 regard  to   the  heathen,    is   completed.     "  They 
 
 '  Luke  xxi.  22. 
 
THE    SECOND    ADVENT.  511 
 
 shall  fall  by  the  edge  of  the  sword — they  shall 
 be  led  captive  among  the  heathen — Jerusalem 
 shall  be  trampled  down  by  the  heathen,  until 
 their  times  are  fulfilled."  The  horrors  of  the  ruin 
 of  Jerusalem,  shall  also  be  unequalled  in  human 
 annals ;  but  their  extreme  violence  shall  be  brief, 
 and  made  so  for  the  sake  of  the  Christian  Church; 
 *'  For  the  elect's  sake  whom  He  hath  chosen,  He 
 hath  shortened  those  days." 
 
 Matt.  xiii.  21.  But  a  new  peril  shall  come, 
 connected  with,  and  following  the  fall  of  Jerusa- 
 lem ;  the  delusions  of  false  Messiahs :  against 
 which,  the  converts  are  to  be  especially  on  their 
 guard.  '*  For  there  shall  arise  false  Christs,  and 
 false  prophets,  and  shall  show  great  signs  and 
 wonders."  Some  shall  come  in  the  desert,  some 
 in  the  cities,  but  all  shall  be  the  source  of  ruin 
 to  their  followers  :  for  insurrection  will  be  put 
 down  in  blood  :  for  wherever  the  Romans  shall 
 find  an  opportunity  of  slaying  the  Jews,  they  will 
 exercise  it;  according  to  the  proverb,  "  Where 
 the  carcase  is,  there  will  be  the  eagles,  the  birds 
 of  prey." 
 
 Matt.  xxiv.  26,  27.  He  then  gave  them  an  in- 
 fallible test  of  the  false  Messiahs.  At  whatever 
 time  the  Son  of  man  shall  actually  come,  there 
 will  be  nothing  doubtful,  or  concealed,  in  his 
 coming.  He  will  be  neither  hidden  in  secret 
 chambers,  nor  to  be  sought  for  in  wildernesses. 
 His  presence  will  be  conspicuous  to  all  mankind, 
 7 
 
512  THE    SECOND    ADVENT. 
 
 instant,  vivid,  and  general,  as  the  lightning.  "  For, 
 as  the  lightning  cometh  out  of  the  West,  and  shin- 
 eth  even  unto  the  East,  so  shall  the  coming  of  the 
 Son  of  man  be."  Thus  far  had  been  declared, 
 to  forewarn  the  converts  against  the  three  pecu- 
 liar errors  into  which  they  might  be  led,  as  na- 
 tives of  Judsea  :  those  were — premature  flight, 
 flight  too  long  delayed,  and  the  delusions  of  false 
 Messiahs.  The  three  precautions  were — to  wait 
 until  they  saw  the  Roman  standards  actually  reach 
 the  neighbourhood  of  Jerusalem  ;  then  to  wait  no 
 longer  ;  and  finally,  to  disbelieve  every  announce- 
 ment of  a  Messiah  either  concealed,  distant,  or  in 
 any  degree  obscure.  For  when  the  true  Messiah 
 should  come,  his  visible  and  universal  power  and 
 splendour  would  be  totally  incapable  of  being- 
 mingled  with  any  appearance  of  this  world.  So 
 far  relates  to  Judsea. 
 
 The  remaining  portion  of  the  prophecy  adopts 
 an  entirely  distinct  character ;  it  offers  no  re- 
 ference to  Jerusalem,  nor  to  the  disciples,  as 
 natives  of  Judsea. — When '  the  sufferings  of  Israel 
 shall  be  closed,  by  their  final  extinction  as  a 
 people  ;  subsequently,  and  at  a  brief  period  after, 
 ("  immediately  after  the  tribulation  of  those 
 days,")  shall  a  tribulation  come  upon  the  world. 
 Its  government  shall  be  shaken  ;  its  princes  shall 
 be  flung  from  their  thrones  ;  the  heathen  nations 
 
 '  Matt.  xxiv.  20. 
 
 I 
 
THE    SECOND    ADVENT.  513 
 
 shall  be  in  a  state  of  violent  disturbance  and  suf- 
 fering ;  all  the  principles  of  society  shall  seem  to 
 be  on  the  point  of  destruction.  "  There  shall  be 
 signs  in  the  sun,  and  in  the  moon,  and  in  the  stars, 
 and  upon  the  earth  distress  of  nations  (the  hea- 
 then) men's  hearts  failing  them  for  fear,  and  for 
 lookino;  after  those  thino;s  that  are  comino-  on  the 
 earth,  for  the  powers  of  the  heavens  shall  be 
 shaken ^" 
 
 Matt.  xxiv.  30.  Subsequently  to  this  general 
 shock  of  the  frame  of  heathen  government  and 
 society,  an  extraordinary  change  shall  take  place. 
 A  new  power  shall  suddenly  assume  the  throne. 
 The  religion  of  the  Cross  shall  be  supreme  ; 
 the  old  powers  of  heaven,  the  prophetic  emblems 
 of  human    sovereignty,    had    been    shaken  from 
 
 *  The  ambiguity  of  the  word  tote,  which,  like  our  word  then, 
 may  signify  either  the  moment,  or  succession  at  any  distance  of 
 time,  however  remote,  has  tended  to  perplex  this  prophecy. 
 But  TOTE  is  used  as  EirEira  ("  afterwards"),  John  xi.  6.  and  even 
 as  extending  to  the  future  world,  1  Cor.  xiii.  12.  In  the  pre- 
 sent prophecy  it  clearly  acts  as  a  point  of  distinction  between 
 successive  periods,  totally  distinct  from  each  other,  though  com- 
 pressed, as  is  not  uncommon  at  the  close  of  a  prophecy,  into  a 
 small  compass.  Of  this  compression,  we  have  an  instance  in 
 Daniel's  prophecy  of  the  Messiah,  where  two  verses  contain  the 
 history  of  the  changes  from  the  first  coming  of  the  Messiah 
 to  the  day  of  judgment;  and  in  the  loth  chapter  of  the  I  Corin- 
 thians, where  Christ's  resurrection,  the  kingdom  of  God,  and 
 the  final  judgment,  follow  in  a  single  verse  (24). 
 
 l1 
 
514  THE    SECOND    ADVENT. 
 
 their  firmament,  a  new  power  is  to  rise  in  their 
 room.  Christianity  is  to  be  the  ruling  light  of 
 nations.  They  shall  see  the  "Sign  of  the  Son  of 
 Man,"  in  the  heavens \ 
 
 Matt.  xxiv.  30.  Subsequently,  another  great 
 event  is  to  come  ;  all  nations  are  to  be  ravaged  by 
 war;  "  the  tribes  of  the  earth  shall  mourn."  The 
 overthrow  of  sovereigns,  or  the  convulsion  of  thrones, 
 is  no  longer  to  be  the  sole  work  of  Providence  ;  the 
 emblematic  heavens  or  their  stars  are  no  longer 
 to  be  alone  darkened ;  the  ruin  is  to  fall  on  the 
 population  ;  the  multitudes  of  earth  shall  be  made 
 the  victims,  and  victims  to  their  disregard  of  Chris- 
 tianity, and  their  cruelties  to  its  people.  This  is 
 also  the  language  of  St.  John,  declaring  the  Divine 
 inflictions  that  are  to  fall  upon  the  infidel  world 
 towards  its  close.  "  Every  eye  shall  see  him,  and 
 they  also  which  have  pierced  him,  (insulted, 
 "  crucified  him  afresh,")  and  all  the  kindreds 
 (tribes)  of  the  earth  shall  wail,  because  of  him." 
 
 Rev.  i.  7.  But  this  scourge  of  the  infidel  world 
 shall  be  followed  by  another  mighty  event.     The 
 
 '  Though  the  power  of  the  Cross  is,  in  conformity  to  the  pro- 
 phetic idiom,  to  imply  the  supremacy  of  the  Faith ;  yet  tliis  does 
 not  preclude  the  actual  appearance  of  the  phenomenon,  as  a  sign 
 of  the  period,  in  the  skies.  In  the  same  prophetic  language,  we 
 have  the  declaration  that  Christ  shall  come  in  power  from  hea-. 
 ven,  and  reign.  But  this  emblematic  language  does  not  preclude 
 his  actual  coming  in  the  visible  glory,  which  the  angel  announced 
 at  his  ascension. 
 
THE    SECOND    ADVENT.  515 
 
 Redeemer  himself  shall  assume  the  government  of 
 the  earth ;  he  shall  be  the  universal  Sovereign  ;  he 
 shall  also  come  in  personal  and  visible  grandeur 
 from  above.  Having  previously  seen  the  "  Sign 
 of  the  Son  of  Man"  exalted  to  power,  they  shall 
 now  see  the  Son  of  Man  himself,  "  coming  in  the 
 clouds  of  heaven  with  power  and  great  glory." 
 
 Mark  xiii.  27,  Another  great  event  is  to  con- 
 summate the  prophecy,  and  the  providential  go- 
 vernment. The  religion  of  Christ  shall  finally  be 
 universal.  Its  former  sovereignty,  in  the  days  of 
 the  Sign  of  the  Son  of  Man,  was  limited  to  the 
 Roman  empire  ;  it  shall  now  extend  to  the  farthest 
 limits  of  the  earth.  All  nations  shall  flow  into  it ; 
 conversion  shall  be  boundless  ;  "  He  shall  send  his 
 angels,  to  gather  his  elect  from  the  uttermost  parts 
 of  the  earth."  Perhaps,  even  more  than  earth  is 
 visibly  to  bow^  before  this  illustrious  sovereignty  ; 
 for  he  is  to  summon  his  worshippers,  not  only 
 from  the  uttermost  parts  of  earth,  but  "  the  utter- 
 most parts  of  heaven." 
 
 Matt.  xxiv.  32.  Our  Lord  having  thus  thrown 
 light  on  all  the  ages  of  Christianity,  tells  the  dis- 
 ciples that  they  should  rejoice  at  the  first  symp- 
 tom of  those  shocks  and  changes,  however  tre- 
 mendous to  the  world,  for  they  shall  all  finally 
 minister  to  the  glory  of  the  Gospel.  "  When 
 those  things  are  beginning  (ap^o/isvwv)  to  come 
 to  pass,  then  look  up,  and  lift  up  your  heads, 
 for  your  redemption   (your  release,  enfranchise- 
 
 l1  2 
 
516  THE    SECOND    ADVENT. 
 
 ment,  airoXvTpwcng,)  draweth  nigh  (is  approaching, 
 
 Luke  xxi.  28.  Those  events  shall  follow,  as  cer- 
 tainly as  the  approach  of  summer  is  indicated  by 
 the  sprouting  of  the  trees.  When  the  disciples  see 
 all  those  things  existing  (yivofi£va)\  they  must  be 
 prepared  to  expect  the  coming  of  the  supremacy 
 of  the  Gospel.  And  the  period  when  those  changes 
 were  to  commence  should  be  within  the  life-time  of 
 the  existing  generation.  "  Verily,  I  say  unto  you 
 that  this  generation  shall  not  pass  away  until  all 
 those  things  shall  be^"  (shall  begin). 
 
 Having  now  told  them  of  the  signs  which  were 
 to  announce  the  succeeding  fall  of  Jerusalem,  and 
 which  were  to  prepare  them  for  its  coming,  as  the 
 first  leaves  prepared  them  to  expect  the  sun)mer, 
 he  adverts  to  the  latter  and  greater  catastrophe. 
 "  Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away,  but  my  words 
 shall  not  pass  away^"  The  expression  may  have 
 been  proverbial ;  but  no  allusion  could  have  fallen 
 lightly  from  the  Divine  Speaker,  and  it  seems  to 
 have  been  the  direct  opening  to  the  further  portion 
 of  the  prophetic  warning.  Caution  to  his  disciples 
 is  still  the  characteristic ;  and  to  preserve  them 
 from  the  extravagances  and  disappointments  into 
 which  the  prospect  of  the  immediate  coming  of 
 Christ  on  earth  might  betray  them,  as  they  have 
 
 *  Mark  xiii.  29.  '  Luke  xxi.  ;}2. 
 
 'Matt.  xxiv.  ;34,  ;}.'). 
 
THE    SECOND    ADVENT.  517 
 
 betrayed   so  many  since,   he  tells  them  that  the 
 time  of  this  consummation  is  beyond   the  possible 
 knowledge  of  created   beings  ;  that  even  he,    as 
 their  teacher,  is  not  empowered  to  communicate 
 it ;  that  it  is  reserved  in  the  councils  of  Heaven. 
 But  he  tells  them,  that  the  knowledge  thus  reserv- 
 ed, ought  to  have  the  effect  of  making  them  feel  the 
 necessity  of  perpetual  vigilance  in  their  preparation 
 to  meet  the  second  coming  of  their  Lord  ;    "Of 
 that  day  and  that  hour  knoweth  no  man,  no,  not 
 the  angels  in  heaven,  nor  the  Son,  but  the  Father." 
 But  this  he  can  communicate  ;  that  all  their  vigi- 
 lance will   be  required,   for  the  character  of  the 
 period  will  be  one  of  thoughtlessness,  worldliness, 
 and  vice.      Mankind  will  be  found,  as  they  were  in 
 the  days  immediately  before  the  Flood,   thinking 
 only  of  their  earthly  pursuits  and  passions,  until  the 
 moment  of  the  catastrophe.     Also,  in  the  time  of 
 the  final  visitation,  judgment  shall  fall  on  man,  and 
 inevitably  strike  the  guilty,  however  they  may  be 
 concealed  under  the  general  similitude  of  human 
 pursuits  and  circumstances.     "Two  men  shall  be 
 labouring  in  the  field,  one  shall  be  taken  and  the 
 other  left,"  &c. 
 
 Of  all  the  prophecies  ever  delivered  to  man, 
 this  was  the  most  detailed,  the  most  exact,  and 
 the  most  applicable  to  the  wants  of  those  to  whom 
 it  was  immediately  addressed.  It  is  without  an 
 equal,  as  an  instance  of  transfusing  the  oracles  of 
 Heaven  into  the  familiar  uses  of  life  ;  and  a  strik- 
 
518  THE    SECOND    ADVENT. 
 
 ing  and  evident  distinction,  with  reference  to  this 
 object,  is  observable  in  the  two  parts  of  the  pro- 
 phecy. That  which  is  immediately  directed  to 
 the  preservation  of  the  disciples,  and  reveals  the 
 fate  of  Judah,  is  in  the  simplest  language  of  man 
 with  man.  But  when  Judah  is  no  longer  in  view, 
 and  the  prediction  embraces  the  fate  of  Gentile 
 empire,  it  instantly  assumes  the  habitual  dialect 
 of  prophecy,  and  reveals  the  darkening  heavens 
 and  their  falling  spheres,  with  the  mysterious  lof- 
 tiness of  Isaiah  or  Ezekiel. 
 
 The  fulfilment  was  exact,  and  in  the  precise 
 succession  of  the  prophecy.  The  signs  began,  with- 
 in about  ten  years,  by  the  announcement  of  false 
 Messiahs.  Theudas,  a.d.  48  ;  the  impostors  who 
 drew  the  people  into  the  desert,  and  were  destroy- 
 ed by  Felix,  a.d.  57  ;  the  Egyptian,  defeated  by 
 Felix  in  a.d.  58  ;  and  the  "  false  prophet"  who  led 
 the  6000  into  the  heart  of  the  flames  when  the 
 temple  was  destroyed,  a.d.  70. 
 
 The  next  sign  was  to  be  "  wars  and  rumours  of 
 wars."  The  heathen  nations  soon  began  to  be  in- 
 volved in  violent  conflicts.  The  Parthian  war 
 with  Rome  was  followed  by  the  civil  war  of  the 
 competitors  for  the  imperial  throne ;  the  four 
 emperors,  Nero,  Galba,  Otho,  and  Vitellius,  were 
 slain  within  the  space  of  a  year  and  a  half.  Fa- 
 mine and  earthquakes  were  frequent  in  this 
 period. 
 
 The  Gospel  was  persecuted  first  by  the  Jews ; 
 
THE    SECOND    ADVENT.  519 
 
 but  its  preachers,  though  suffering  insult  and  in- 
 jury, were  seldom  exposed  to  loss  of  life.  On  its 
 breaking  into  the  Gentile  world,  it  was  persecuted 
 with  sudden  and  sweeping  cruelty.  This  too  was 
 the  predicted  signal  of  the  Jewish  calamities.  In 
 the  year  a.d.  64.  the  11  th  year  of  Nero,  the  great 
 Roman  persecution  began,  on  the  charge  against 
 the  Christians  of  having  burnt  the  city.  In  the 
 year  65  the  Jewish  war  began,  by  the  refusal  of 
 Eleazar  to  sacrifice  for  the  prosperity  of  the  em- 
 pire. 
 
 In  the  same  year  Cestius  Gallus,  the  governor 
 of  Syria,  advanced  with  an  army  to  Jerusalem, 
 and  burned  its  suburb,  Bezetha  ;  but  retired  with- 
 in three  days  ;  on  which  the  Christians  left  the 
 city  and  took  refuge  in  Pella.  This  was  the  first 
 sight  of  the  "  Abomination  of  Desolation,"  the 
 idol  standard. 
 
 The  attack  of  Jerusalem  (April  22,  a.d.  70.) 
 was  hastened  by  Titus,  with  the  intention  of  saving 
 the  country  from  being  destroyed  by  a  protracted 
 war.  The  temple  was  burnt,  August  5,  and  the 
 city  finally  taken,  September  2,  a.d.  70. 
 
 The  fall  of  the  city  was  succeeded  by  frequent 
 insurrections  in  the  Jewish  settlements  throughout 
 the  empire,  chiefly  headed  by  false  Messiahs,  until 
 the  great  final  insurrection  under  Barchochebas, 
 which  was  extinguished,  with  the  nation,  in  the 
 siege  of  Bither,  by  Hadrian. 
 
 Within  fifty  years  followed  the  extraordinary 
 
520  THE    SECOND    ADVENT. 
 
 convulsion  of  the  Roman  government,  the  assassi- 
 nation of  the  emperors,  and  the  general  disloca- 
 tion of  all  authority  in  the  empire. 
 
 Within  about  fifty  years  after,  the  Vision  of  the 
 Cross  appeared  to  Constantine,  who  adopted  it  as 
 his  banner,  became  emperor,  and  established 
 Christianity  as  the  religion  of  the  empire. 
 
 The  remainder  of  the  prophecy  is  still  to  come; 
 but  we  have  the  most  distinct  declarations  of  other 
 parts  of  Scripture,  directly  authenticating  it. 
 The  characteristic  of  the  closing  period  is  declared 
 to  be  a  burst  of  war  which  shall  involve  all  nations. 
 "  The  tribes  of  the  earth  shall  mourn."  In  the 
 Apocalypse,  the  angel  who  immediately  precedes 
 our  Lord's  Second  coming,  proclaims  this  universal 
 and  expiring  effort  of  the  spirit  of  hostility,  which 
 has  so  long  disturbed  the  world.  The  angel  utters 
 a  cry  to  all  the  birds  of  prey  to  come  and  feed  on 
 the  last  and  greatest  feast  of  massacre.  "  Come 
 and  gather  yourselves  to  the  supper  of  the  great 
 God.  That  ye  may  eat  the  flesh  of  kings,  and 
 the  flesh  of  captains,  and  the  flesh  of  mighty  men, 
 and  the  flesh  of  horses,  and  of  them  that  sit  on 
 them,  and  the  flesh  of  all  men,  both  free  and  bond, 
 both  small  and  great'." 
 
 The  final  declaration  is  the  "  Second  Advent," 
 the  coming  of  the  triumphant  Messiah  to  assume 
 the  throne,  "  the  Son  of  Man  coming  in  the  clouds 
 
 '  Apoc.  xix.  17,  18. 
 
THE    SECOND    ADVENT.  521 
 
 of  heaven,  with  power  and  great  glory."  In  the  dia- 
 lect of  prophecy,  this  would  not  necessarily  imply 
 more  than  the  complete  and  extraordinary  posses- 
 sion of  earthly  power  by  the  Divine  Being  ;  but  we 
 have  also  the  distinct  declaration,  not  only  of  the 
 apostolic  writings,  but  of  the  angels  at  the  Ascen- 
 sion \  that,  as  our  Lord  ascended  to  heaven  before 
 their  eyes,  so  he  should  return,  visibly  and  bodily  in 
 his  state  of  glory.  Then  shall  come  the  consumma- 
 tion, the  establishment  of  the  Divine  kingdom  on 
 the  earth,  in  the  midst  of  the  rejoicing  of  earth 
 and  heaven.  "  And  the  seventh  angel  sounded, 
 and  there  were  great  voices  in  heaven,  saying, 
 The  kingdoms  of  this  world  are  become  the  king- 
 doms of  our  Lord  and  his  Christ,  and  He  shall 
 reign  for  ever  and  ever^" 
 
 The  perplexities  of  the  commentators  on  this 
 prophecy  have  arisen  chiefly  from  their  overlook- 
 ing the  distinction  between  the  Jewish  and  Pagan 
 portions ;  and  from  their  equally  overlooking,  in 
 the  brevity  of  the  latter,  the  separate  nature  of  its 
 successive  clauses ;  the  word  tote  having  the 
 double  power,  of  expressing  the  present  time,  and 
 succession. 
 
 But  the  chief  perplexity  to  the  general  reader  has 
 
 '  Acts  i.  2.  '  Apoc.  xi.  15. 
 
522  THE    SECOND    ADVENT. 
 
 arisen  from  the  mistranslation  of -yfvjjrai,  by  "ful- 
 filled" instead  of  "  shall  exist."  The  expression, 
 "  This  generation  shall  not  pass  away,  until  all 
 those  things  shall  he.  fulfilled,''  falsifies  the  whole 
 prediction  ;  or  compels  the  reader  to  conceive  that 
 our  Lord  came,  at  the  time  of  the  siege,  meta- 
 phorically or  obscurely,  which  he  directly  com- 
 mands his  disciples  to  disbelieve  ;  that  the  convul- 
 sions of  the  sovereignties  were  contemporaneous 
 with  it,  which  he  expressly  declares  were  after 
 it ;  and  that  his  presence  in  glory  was  meta- 
 phorical, and  is  past,  which  is  declared  by  the 
 angels  to  be  real,  and  by  the  prophets,  to  be 
 among  the  last  events  of  the  world.  But  this 
 confusion  is  entirely  that  of  the  translation.  The 
 original  meaning  of  yivojuat  is,  "  to  happen,  to 
 occur."  Of  the  nineteen  meanings  which  it  as- 
 sumes, but  one  has  a  reference  to  fulfilment.  The 
 word  is  repeatedly  used  in  the  prophecy,  and  is 
 as  repeatedly  translated  in  its  natural  meaning. 
 It  is  even  so  far  from  naturally  implying  fulfil- 
 ment, that  it  is  used  where  fulfilment  is  expressly 
 negatived;  "All  these  things  must  be  (ytveff^ai) 
 but  the  end  is  not  yet.""  (7.)  Other  instances 
 are,  "  Pray  that  your  flight  may  not  be  (ytvijrat) 
 in  the  winter."  (20.)  "  For  there  shall  be  great 
 tribulation,  such  as  has  not  been,  nor  shall  be," 
 (■yevrjTot,)  &c.  The  actual  declaration  to  the  dis- 
 ciples is,  that  the  living  generation  should  not 
 pass    away   until    all   those    things    existed    (had 
 
THE    SECOND    ADVENT.  523 
 
 commenced) ;  and  this  was  the  fact ;  for  they 
 commenced  within  the  exact  period  of  a  genera- 
 tion (calculated  at  thirty-three  years).  The  pro- 
 phecy was  delivered  in  the  thirty-third  year  of 
 our  Lord  ;  and  the  war  began  in  the  sixty-fifth  ; 
 though  the  fall  even  of  the  nation  was  not  fulfilled 
 until  the  war  of  Hadrian,  (a.  d.  132.)  a  century 
 after.  But  historical  events  exist  when  they  have 
 once  begun.  The  decline  of  the  Roman  empire 
 existed  two  hundred  years  before  it  was  fulfilled. 
 The  decline  of  the  Popedom  has  existed  since  the 
 fourteenth  century.  The  commencement  of  the 
 Jewish  calamities  is  obviously  all  that  the  word 
 •yeinjrai  implied  ;  and  the  Tzavra  ravra  was  a  direct 
 reference  to  the  previous  words  of  our  Lord,  re- 
 peated in  the  question  of  the  disciples,  and  in  both 
 instances  referring  directly  to  the  vengeance  threat- 
 ened against  the  Jewish  nation. 
 
CHAPTER    XLIII. 
 
 THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 
 
 The  Deluge  had  extinguished  the  apostate  Seth- 
 ites,  and  left  the  world  open  to  the  undisputed 
 possession  of  the  little  patriarchal  family,  which 
 had  kept  its  faith,  and  then  constituted  the  only 
 Church  of  God.  The  three  sons  of  the  patriarch 
 were  thenceforth  to  divide  the  world,  and  hold  it 
 in  full  supremacy ;  Shem  the  lord  of  the  East, 
 Japhet  of  the  West,  and  Ham  of  the  South. 
 
 Noah  planted  a  vine,  became  intoxicated  with 
 its  produce,  and  slept  uncovered.  Ham  revealed 
 liis  father's  weakness,  but  was  rebuked  by  the 
 superior  piety  of  Shem  and  Japhet,  who  reve- 
 rentially covered  their  parent  with  a  robe.  Noah 
 awaking,  pronounced  a  malediction  on  the  pos- 
 terity of  Ham. 
 
 The  Second  Cycle  still  retains  the  exactness  of 
 its  parallelism  to  the  first.  The  fall  of  Judaea  had 
 totally  extinguished  the  original  Jewish  Church  ; 
 the  Christian,  the  remnant  of  the  true  Israel,  had 
 survived  among  the  terrors  of  the  national  ruin. 
 
THE    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH.  525 
 
 But  it  stood  alone,  in  a  world  which  was  a  desert 
 in  every  sense  of  religion.  Yet,  in  less  than  three 
 centuries,  it  was  to  be  the  ruler  of  that  world. 
 Struggling  from  the  rudiments  of  precarious 
 toleration  up  to  the  fulness  of  sacred  empire, 
 Christianity  was  at  length  the  supreme  religion 
 of  the  Roman  world.  The  "  kingdom"  had 
 ''come"  in  "power."  Yet,  strictly  correspond- 
 ing to  the  Divine  announcement,  a  kingdom  of 
 spiritual  sovereignty  ;  a  throne,  not  according  to 
 this  world,  yet  possessing  a  larger  territory,  and, 
 in  all  the  purer  senses  of  power,  exercising  a 
 higher  dominion,  than  had  ever  been  given  to 
 sword  or  sceptre.  The  world  never  before  or 
 since  exhibited  so  magnificent  a  provision  for 
 spreading  knowledge  and  virtue  through  man- 
 kind. 
 
 Adopting  the  forms  of  the  Roman  empire, 
 which,  in  the  time  of  Constantine,  was  divided 
 into  thirteen  vast  Provinces,  or  civil  "  Dioceses," 
 each  ruled  by  an  Exarch,  or  Prefect;  the  empire 
 of  the  Church  was  divided  into  Provinces  \ — 
 Constantinople,  Antioch,  Alexandria,  Caesarea, 
 Ephesus,  Rome,  Thessalonica,  Milan,  Carthage, 
 to  which  Jerusalem  and  Justiniana  were  subse- 
 quently added.  The  extent  of  territory  thus 
 placed   under   the    several    Ecclesiastical    rulers, 
 
 '  The  narne  of  Patriarcli  is  not  mentioned  before  the  Council 
 of  Chalcedon,  a.  d.  451  ;  but  the  authority  subsisted  from  the 
 time  of  Constantine. 
 
526  THE    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 
 
 often  comprehended  what  were  once  great  king- 
 doms. The  Patriarchate^  of  Antioch  origin  ally 
 included  Judsea,  Syria,  and  Mesopotamia.  The 
 Patriarchate  of  Csesarea  reached  from  the  Eu- 
 phrates to  the  Helespont ;  comprehending  that 
 loveliest  and  most  exuberant  region  of  the  ancient 
 world,  Asia  Minor.  The  Patriarchate  of  Con- 
 stantinople ruled  nearly  the  entire  of  what  has 
 since  been  European  Turkey  and  Greece.  The 
 Patriarchate  of  Alexandria  extended  over  Egypt. 
 The  Patriarchate  of  Africa  included  the  Roman 
 proconsular  provinces,  and  stretched  from  the 
 rich  and  highly-peopled  settlements  of  Byzacium 
 and  Tripolis,  over  the  uncircumscribed  regions  of 
 the  two  Mauritanias.  The  world  west  of  Greece 
 was  ruled  by  the  Patriarchs  of  Rome,  Milan, 
 Spain,  and  Gaul.  Eighteen  hundred  Bishops 
 administered  the  minor  rule  of  the  religious 
 empire  ^     Myriads  and  millions  of  human  hearts 
 
 ^  The  subject  of  the  Patriarchates  is  largely  treated  of  by 
 Bingham,  Antiq.  B.  ix.  &c. 
 
 *  Gibbon's  acrimony  is  almost  neutralized  in  his  description 
 of  this  rapid  and  astonishing  dominion.  He  nearly  forgets  his 
 bitterness,  while  he  follows  its  course  through  "  the  Episcopal 
 Churches  planted  along  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  on  tlie  sea-coast 
 of  Africa,  in  the  proconsular  Asia,  in  the  southern  provinces  of 
 Italy,"  &c.  Fortunate  for  him  and  for  others,  if  his  philosophy  had 
 paused  honestly  to  inquire,  by  what  human  influence  this  over- 
 whelming supremacy  could  have  been  obtained.  This  reasoning 
 on  "  the  five  causes"  must,  even  to  himself,  have  seemed  a  mere 
 trifling  with  the  question. 
 
THE    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH.  527 
 
 were  awakened,  in  that  time  of  Divine  compas- 
 sion, to  the  knowledge  of  immortality.  This  was 
 the  first  gathering  of  the  great  harvest ;  the  an- 
 ticipation of  that  final  summoning,  which  shall 
 yet  awake  the  ends  of  the  earth ;  the  first  flash 
 and  radiance  of  that  glory,  before  which  heaven 
 and  earth  shall  yet  brighten  into  kindred  glory. 
 
 But  it  had  been  distinctly  foretold,  that  this 
 state  of  purity  would  be  brief.  The  Apostolic 
 writings  are  full  of  warnings  against  the  long 
 and  fearful  decline  that  was  to  follow  the  day  of 
 holiness  :  and,  those  declarations  were  realized. 
 The  Vine,  the  Scriptural  emblem  of  the  Church, 
 had  been  planted  and  had  flourished  :  but  the 
 spirit  of  Paganism  still  existed.  A  people  born 
 in  selfishness  and  sensuality  were  easily  corrupted 
 once  more  :  the  generous  and  sacred  zeal  of  the 
 first  founders  of  Christianity  began  to  be  super- 
 seded by  the  pretence  and  ambition  of  men  hos- 
 tile to  its  principles.  The  Vine  had  intoxicated 
 the  sitters  under  its  shade. 
 
 By  an  unconscious,  but  close,  conformity  to 
 the  tripartite  dominion  of  the  sons  of  Noah,  the 
 Church  had  already  divided  its  sovereignty  into 
 three  branches — the  Eastern,  the  Western,  and 
 the  African.  In  the  same  conformity  to  the  t^'pe, 
 the  African,  the  Church  of  the  descendants  of 
 Ham,  was  seen  fulfilling  the  unrighteous  ofiice 
 of  their  ancestor.  In  Egypt  broke  out  the  first 
 and    most  fatal   of   all  the    heresies — Arianism  ; 
 
528  THE    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 
 
 the  denial  of  the  eternal  Divinity  of  our  Lord. 
 All  the  discontents  or  subtleties  of  schism,  were 
 trivial  to  this  new  and  violent  shape  of  hostility 
 to  the  Christian  religion.  The  Divinity  of  Christ, 
 co-equal  and  co-eternal,  was  the  foundation-stone 
 of  the  whole  building  of  the  Gospel  ;  essential  to 
 the  efficacy,  perhaps  even  to  the  idea,  of  an  Atone- 
 ment. The  principle  of  the  doctrine  pervaded 
 every  promise  of  support  and  guidance  on  earth, 
 and  every  hope  of  the  future  world.  The  blow 
 which  struck  there  was  dealt  by  a  hand  which 
 well  knew  where  the  heart  of  Christianity  lay. 
 
 Arianism,  in  its  earlier  day,  was  the  most 
 formidable  disturber  of  the  Christian  world,  as  it 
 has  been  the  most  persevering  since.  But  its 
 Egyptian  disturbances  were  true  to  the  history  of 
 religious  evil ;  they  began  in  faction.  The  strug- 
 gles of  Donatus  and  Caecilian  for  the  primacy  of 
 Africa,  struggles  into  which  the  partizans  on  both 
 sides  plunged  with  hands  and  hearts  ready  for 
 the  last  excesses,  had  degraded  public  morals, 
 before  heresy  was  suffered  to  make  still  broader 
 inroads  on  Christian  doctrine.  They  had  scarcely 
 been  allayed  when  the  scourge  came  in  the  cor- 
 ruption of  the  faith.  "The  schism  of  the  Do- 
 natists  was  confined  to  Africa.  The  more  diffusive 
 mischief  of  the  Trinitarian  controversy  succes- 
 sively penetrated  into  every  part  of  the  Christian 
 world.  From  the  age  of  Constantine  to  that  of 
 Clovis  and  Theodoric,  the  temporal  interests  of 
 7 
 
THE    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH.  529 
 
 both  the  Romans  and  barbarians  were  deeply  in- 
 volved in  the  theological  disputes  of  Arianism  '." 
 
 Before  the  violences  and  corruptions  which  this 
 heresy  inflicted,  all  the  other  heresies  stooped 
 their  heads.  Bloodshed  and  barbarism  were  its 
 concomitants,  in  whatever  quarter  of  the  world 
 it  trod.  In  the  fourth  century,  under  the  suc- 
 cessor of  Constantine,  it  became  paramount,  and 
 exercised  the  vengeance  of  successful  heresy.  In 
 the  fifth,  it  followed  the  Goths  into  Asia.  In  the 
 ignorance  and  desolation  of  the  sixth,  it  over- 
 shadowed a  large  portion  of  the  three  quarters  of 
 the  globe.  In  the  seventh,  it  sprang  up  with  new 
 force  under  the  dominion  of  the  Lombard  barba- 
 rians in  Italy.  But,  then  came  the  "  captivity,"  the 
 Papal  subjugation  of  the  Church,  in  which  all 
 the  perversities  of  opinion  were  sentenced,  with 
 all  its  truths,  to  the  same  dungeon.  At  the  re- 
 vival of  religion  in  the  sixteenth  century,  it  coiled 
 itself  round  the  Church  once  more ;  and  though 
 constantly  crushed  in  the  presence  of  learning 
 and  virtue,  found,  and  still  finds,  too  congenial  a 
 shelter,  in  the  presumption,  which  denies  all  that 
 it  cannot  define. 
 
 In   this  solemn   emergency,    the    eastern    and 
 western  Churches  shook  off"  their  growing  apathy, 
 
 Gibbon,  v.  2.  His  view  of  the  passion  and  profligacy  of 
 those  tumults  is  just.  But  his  statement  of  the  controversy 
 itself  is  at  once  affected,  trifling,  and  dishonest. 
 
 M  m 
 
530  THE    CHRISTIAN    CHURCH. 
 
 and  resolutely  and  openly  came  forward  to  retrieve 
 the  fallen  character  of  their  common  religion. 
 The  first  Council  of  Christianity,  the  famous 
 Council  of  Nice,  was  assembled  for  the  purpose 
 of  asserting  the  Gospel*.  Its  decision  was  formed 
 with  a  dignity  and  authority  worthy  of  the  crisis. 
 Of  the  three  hundred  and  eighteen  bishops  pre- 
 sent, but  five  were  found  to  side  with  Arius.  The 
 doctrines  of  the  arch-heretic  were  fully  condemned. 
 The  Nicene  Creed  was  additionally  promulgated, 
 as  a  declaration  of  the  unstained  faith,  and  a 
 standard  of  the  opinions  of  the  primitive  Church 
 for  ever.  The  robe  could  not  have  been  more 
 reverentially  and  effectually  drawn  over  the  shame 
 of  the  parent  by  the  filial  hands.  From  this  era, 
 too,  the  African  Church  seemed  marked  for  per- 
 petual suffering.  Occasionally  powerful  and  ac- 
 tive, it  still  sank,  took  but  a  slight  share  in  the 
 general  transactions  of  Christianity,  perished, 
 while  both  the  Western  and  Eastern  stood,  and 
 has  lain  in  a  hopeless  grave  for  a  thousand 
 years,  trampled  on  by  the  feet  of  the  Mahometan 
 and  the  barbarian. 
 
 The  Second  Cycle  had  now  assumed  that  aspect 
 which  it  retained  for  ages.  The  fall  of  the  Roman 
 empire,  the  invasions  of  the  northern  tribes,  and 
 the  general  wild  struggles  of  Europe  in  its  misery, 
 were  still  to  be  suffered,  and  still  to  impede  the 
 
 'A.D.  325. 
 
THE    CimrSTIAN    CHURCH.  531 
 
 progress  of  a  Church  whose  spirit  is  peace,  know- 
 ledge, and  the  diffusion  of  happiness.  At  length 
 a  yet  more  formidable  trial  arose  ;  the  evil  which 
 had  been  begun  by  heresy  was  consummated  by 
 usurpation  ;  Egypt  was  followed  by  Rome.  The 
 licentious  controversies  of  minds,  made  insubordi- 
 nate by  the  wildness  and  the  calamities  of  the 
 time,  were  followed  by  their  appropriate  punish- 
 ment, in  the  form  of  a  total  deprivation  of  free- 
 dom. The  birthright  of  the  Faith  was  seized  for 
 the  building  of  the  great  Babylonian  fabric  which 
 assumed  to  be  the  centre  of  universal  empire. 
 The  divine  attributes  were  claimed  by  a  mortal 
 authority.  From  this  period  darkness  fell  upon 
 mankind.  The  Church  existed  but  in  the  few 
 scattered  hearts  which  Providence,  true  to  the 
 promise  that  it  should  never  utterly  fail,  preserved 
 as  the  sacred  seed  of  the  future.  Ignorance  and 
 persecution  were  thenceforth  the  character  and 
 the  business  of  human  existence.  The  earth  was 
 silent,  but  when  it  echoed  the  mandate  of  the 
 Pontiff  for  the  fall  or  rise  of  some  vassal  kingdom ; 
 and  dark,  but  when  it  caught  the  blaze  of  some 
 new  superstition,  flaming  from  the  gorgeous  altar 
 of  Rome.  Thus  sank  into  night  the  Second 
 Cycle  of  the  world. 
 
 M  m  'Z 
 
THE    THIRD    CYCLE. 
 
 BOOK  III. 
 
 CHAPTER  XLIV. 
 
 THE  SECOND  ADAM. 
 
 The  three  Cycles  perfectly  correspond,  in  their 
 leading  facts,  and  in  the  order  of  those  facts.  But 
 each  exhibits  a  peculiarity,  which,  however,  only 
 gives  additional  evidence  of  the  nature  of  the 
 whole,  as  a  providential  system. 
 
 All  the  features  of  the  first  Cycle  are  direct 
 appeals  to  the  senses.  Its  characteristic  may  be 
 pronounced  materiality.  Thus,  to  Adam  happi- 
 ness is  represented  by  an  actual  garden  of  luxuri- 
 ance and  loveliness. — His  discovery  of  the  absence 
 of  mental  companionship  is  by  an  actual  display 
 of  the  inferior  creation — knowledge  and  immor- 
 tality are  represented  by  trees — the  tempter  is 
 known  only  as  a  serpent — the  sense  of  sin  is  na- 
 kedness, and  forgiveness  is  clothing  by  the  hantl 
 of  Heaven — redemption  is  a  combat,  in  which  the 
 
THE    SECOND    ADAM.  533 
 
 head  of  the  serpent  is  to  be  bruised  by  the  heel  of 
 his  victor.  The  faith  of  Cain  is  tried  by  an  actual 
 sacrifice,  the  rejection  of  Cain  is  an  actual  banish- 
 ment— the  Divine  approval  of  Enoch  is  by  his 
 actual  transfer  to  the  skies — the  promise  of  safety 
 is  by  an  actual  ark,  the  punishment  by  an  actual 
 deluge,  the  sign  of  forgiveness  and  protection  by 
 an  actual  rainbow — the  dominion  of  the  earth  is 
 by  an  actual  possession.  All  is  visible  and  tan- 
 gible. 
 
 The  second  Cycle  addresses  itself  in  part  to  the 
 senses,  and  in  part  to  the  mind.  Its  characteristic 
 is  a  combination  of  materiality  and  spirituality. 
 The  original  call  to  Abraham's  obedience  is  a 
 direct  command  that  he  should  leave  his  coun- 
 try ;  the  Divine  favour  is  shown  by  a  gift  of  off- 
 spring ;  the  Divine  trial  of  his  faith  is  a  command 
 to  sacrifice  that  offspring ;  the  blessing  is  by  a 
 promise  of  territory,  and  a  numerous  race.  Moses 
 is  summoned  by  the  visible  glory  to  lead  an  actual 
 nation,  by  actual  miracles,  into  the  possession  of 
 lands  and  cities.  The  national  homage  is  embo- 
 died in  one  great  temple,  with  a  ceremonial 
 strongly  addressed  to  the  senses.  The  punish- 
 ment of  the  nation  is  by  actual  wars,  chastise- 
 ments, and  captivities.  The  final  withdrawal  of 
 the  Divine  protection  is  by  the  actual  overthrow 
 of  the  national  government,  and  total  scattering 
 of  the  people.     Thus  far,   all  is   visibility.     But, 
 
534  THE    SECOND    ADAM. 
 
 connected  with  this  exterior,  there  is  an  interior 
 spirituality.  The  passage  of  the  Red  Sea  is  a 
 baptism  ;  the  Passover  a  spiritual  pledge.  The 
 whole  Temple  bears  a  spiritual  reference  to  the 
 Messiah — in  whom  was  the  dwelling  of  the 
 Divine  presence.  Its  ceremonial  has  a  spiritual 
 reference  to  his  acts  and  qualities.  Its  High  Priest 
 and  the  lamb  that  was  sacrificed  on  its  altar,  have 
 an  equal  reference  to  the  Great  Sacrificer,  who 
 offered  up  himself  for  the  sins  of  all. 
 
 The  Third  Cycle  is  wholly  spiritual.  It  re- 
 quires no  pilgrimage,  or  personal  hazard.  It 
 tasks  only  the  obedience  of  the  heart.  Temporal 
 possessions  are  not  among  its  promises  of  reward. 
 It  is  destitute  of  all  the  established  ritual  of  the 
 two  former  Cycles.  It  has  neither  the  sacrifice  of 
 the  Patriarchal,  nor  the  ceremonial  of  the  Jewish. 
 For  all  the  rites  of  both,  it  has  but  two,  sprinkling 
 with  water,  and  tasting  bread  and  wine — Baptism 
 and  the  Lord's  Supper — rites  of  the  highest  spiri- 
 tual efficacy,  but  externally  of  the  simplest  pos-* 
 sible  kind.  The  Church  itself  is  but  partially  an 
 object  of  the  senses.  It  is  not  one  great  common- 
 wealth, compacted  under  one  head,  as  in  the 
 Patriarchal  day,  nor  gathered  within  one  region, 
 as  in  the  Jewish.  It  is  scattered  through  all 
 nations  ;  without  any  place  of  general  assemblage, 
 any  general  temple,  any  general  government. 
 Its   only  bond    is   spiritual   allegiance ;    its  only 
 
THE    SECOND    ADAM.  535 
 
 Temple,  wherever  it  can  worship ;  its  only  law, 
 the  precepts  of  the  Scriptures ;  its  only  govern- 
 ment, the  directing  power  of  Heaven. 
 
 That  three  vast  series,  so  strongly  distin- 
 guished in  principle,  should  coincide,  with  such 
 perfect  exactness  of  event,  is  among  the  finest 
 evidences  of  Divine  design.  That  the  facts  of  the 
 Christian  Cycle  fully  bear  out  this  coincidence, 
 will  require  scarcely  more  than  a  brief  enume- 
 ration. 
 
 It  is  to  be  previously  observed,  that  this  result, 
 in  the  third  Cycle,  implies  a  more  delicate  and 
 difficult  contrivance  than  in  the  former  examples. 
 The  Jewish  Cycle  could  refer  to  but  one  prede- 
 cessor. The  Christian  refers  to  two,  the  Jewish 
 and  the  Patriarchal ;  and  this,  not  simply  by  retain- 
 ing the  mere  outline,  which  in  both  is  the  same, 
 but  by  combining  their  discrepancies,  and  exhibit- 
 ing the  extraordinary  achievement,  of  a  series  of 
 events,  expressly  belonging  to  the  manners,  exi- 
 gencies, and  revolutions,  of  the  last  eighteen 
 hundred  years,  and  whose  principle  is  spirituality, 
 giving  the  complete  texture  of  a  series  of  events 
 expressly  belonging  to  the  circumstances  of  two 
 thousand  years  before,  whose  principle  was  a 
 mixture  of  spirituality  and  materiality ;  and  at 
 the  same  time  giving  the  equally  complete  tex- 
 ture of  a  series  of  events,  expressly  belonging  to 
 two  thousand  years  earlier  still,  the  events  of  a 
 state  of  society  altogether  different  from  any  that 
 
536  THE    SECOND    ADAM. 
 
 has   followed,   and  whose   principle   was  materi- 
 ality. 
 
 Our  Lord  is  pronounced  to  be  the  Second  Adam. 
 The  career  of  Christ,  of  the  Church  formed  in 
 his  life-time,  and  of  the  Church  from  the  Apos- 
 tolic day  to  our  own  and  to  the  end  of  the  world, 
 is  the  parallel  to  the  life  of  Adam,  of  Eve,  and  of 
 the  Sethite  line  down  to  the  end  of  the  first 
 Cycle. 
 
 Adam  was  formed  of  earth — an  especial  act  of 
 God  breathed  into  him  a  soul. — He  was  formed 
 beyond  the  bounds  of  the  garden  of  Eden,  but 
 was  transferred  into  it. — The  angels  rejoiced  at 
 his  birth. — He  was  declared  to  have  dominion 
 over  all  that  lived,  to  be  king  of  the  earth. — The 
 law  of  unsinning  obedience  was  pronounced  to 
 him,  by  which  death  was  to  follow  transgression. 
 — All  the  animals  were  brought  before  him  to 
 receive  names.  —  Among  them,  no  creature  was 
 found  fit  for  his  mental  companionship — a  bride 
 was  formed  for  him  out  of  his  own  substance,  and 
 whom  he  declared  to  be  inseparably  united  to 
 him. — His  bride  was  tempted  by  the  serpent  with 
 the  love  of  power,  the  desire  "to  be  as  gods." — 
 She  shared  the  fruit  of  temptation  with  Adam  : 
 they  discovered  their  crime,  and  terrified  at  the 
 approach  of  their  sentence,  hid  themselves. — The 
 trial  came  ;  the  serpent  was  sentenced  without  rc- 
 
 1 
 
THE    SECOND    ADAM.  537 
 
 mission,  Adam  and  Eve  were  forgiven,  yet  sen- 
 tenced to  undergo  temporary  death,  and  were  sent 
 forth  from  the  garden,  to  wander  through  the 
 world.  Thus  far  extends  the  personal  history  of 
 Adam. 
 
 The  correspondence  of  those  circumstances  with 
 the  history  of  our  Lord's  Hfe,  is  exact,  and  in  un- 
 deviating  order. — The  announcement  of  his  con- 
 ception was  made  by  the  angel  in  Nazareth  of 
 Galilee,  where  he  was  declared  to  be  at  once  the 
 offspring  of  the  woman,  and  the  Son  of  God  : — 
 Christ  was  ho7'n  in  Bethlehem  of  Judah,  in  the 
 territory  which  contained  Jerusalem,  the  "Holy 
 City,"  the  place  of  the  only  Temple. — Angels 
 rejoicingly  announced  his  birth — the  Magi,  by 
 Divine  impulse,  and  led  by  a  light  from  heaven, 
 came  to  his  cradle  to  acknowledge  "Him  that 
 was  born  King  of  the  Jews ' :"  a  dominion  which 
 implied  universal  sovereignty,  Judaea  being  the 
 declared  ruler  of  nations.  '^  All  kings  shall  fall 
 down  before  Him,  all  nations  shall  do  Him  ser- 
 vice-."— They  presented  to  Him  gold,  frank- 
 incense, and  myrrh,  the  three  most  esteemed 
 products  of  the  earth,  the  tribute  of  the  earth  to 
 his  sovereignty. — Christ,  at  the  age  of  twelve, 
 heard  the  Law  of  Moses  delivered  by  the  Jewish 
 authorities  in  the  Temple.  This  was  a  repetition 
 of  the  law  of  unsinning  obedience,  the  first  cove- 
 
 '  Matt.  ii.  2.  =>  Psalm  Ixxu. 
 
538  THE    SECOND    ADAM. 
 
 narit  of  Paradise,  by  which  death  was  to  follow 
 transo;ression  \ — At  the  commencement  of  his 
 mission,  the  Jewish  people  were  summoned  to  be 
 baptized  in  the  river  Jordan,  as  an  attestation  of 
 their  hope  in  the  name  of  the  Messiah  ;  in  other 
 words,  to  receive  a  new  name  of  faith  and  purity 
 through  his  coming. — Yet  the  Jewish  Church  and 
 people  exhibited  an  utter  incapacity  of  compre- 
 hending the  true  nature  of  Christ's  mission  ;  and 
 though  they  had  readily  been  baptized  into  the 
 name  of  the  Messiah,   Christ  departed  from  the 
 
 *  This  transaction  has  not  hitherto  been  explained  by  the  com- 
 mentators. Yet  it  was  a  very  extraordinary  one ;  as  the  single  in- 
 stance in  which  our  Lord  appears,  from  infancy  to  manhood,  and 
 an  instance  which  brings  on  him  a  charge  of  disobedience,  which 
 charge  is  answered  only  by  a  declaration  of  his  being  employed 
 on  higher  objects  than  those  belonging  to  his  earthly  parentage. 
 By  some  it  is  supposed  that  he  was  taken  to  the  Temple  ac- 
 cording to  a  Jewish  custom  of  taking  children  to  be  taught  the 
 Law.  (Lightfoot.)  But  the  declared  occasion  was  the  Pass- 
 over. His  parents  were  evidently  unacquainted  with  his  being 
 in  the  Temple ;  and  when  they  sought  him  there  at  last  after 
 three  days,  it  was  probably  only  from  the  information  of  those 
 who  heard  him  conversing  in  so  public  a  place.  But  the  whole 
 circumstance  is  perfectly  intelligible  as  a  reference  to  the  de- 
 livery of  the  law  to  Adam.  For  the  first  time  the  law  of  the 
 primal  covenant  (of  which  the  Mosaic  law  was  only  the  revival) 
 is  delivered  in  the  hearing  of  Christ,  in  the  especial  place  of 
 the  Divine  presence.  He  also  declares  that,  to  hear  and  under- 
 stand it,  has  reference  to  his  connexion  with  the  Divine  Being. 
 Even  the  three  days  may  have  reference  to  the  result  of  the  law, 
 his  three  days'  submission  to  the  grave. 
 
THE    SECOND    ADAM.  539 
 
 great  assemblage  of  his  country  unhonoured  and 
 unattended. — The  Jewish  Church  was  thus  shown 
 to  be  unfitted  for  his  bride ;  and  a  bride  was  to 
 be  formed,  of  his  own  summoning;  a  Church,  of 
 a  nature  capable  of  perfect  assimilation  and  alli- 
 ance with  his  own  spirit  and  principles. 
 
 The  formation  of  Eve  had  been  shown  to  Adam 
 by  preternatural  means.    He  was  cast  into  a  state  of 
 sleep  or  trance,  in  which  the  vision  was  displayed 
 to  him.     It  is  remarkable,   that  every  display  of 
 the  nature  or  fortunes  of  the  Church  made  to  the 
 Hebrew  Patriarchs,  was  by  a  vision,   connected 
 with  sleep  or  trance.     Abraham  saw  the  suffer- 
 ings of  the  Israelite  Church  in  Egypt  in  a   "  hor- 
 ror of  deep  sleep,"  which   displayed  the  emble- 
 matic   "furnace."     To  Jacob  w^as  given,  on  his 
 departure  from  Palestine,  the  vision  of  the   "  as- 
 cending and  descending  angels,"  the  development 
 of  that  dispensation  which  was  to  be  administered 
 "  by  angels  in  the  hand  of  a  mediator."    And  on 
 his  return,  the  vision  of  wrestling  with  the  angel, 
 who  shrank  the  sinew  of  his  limb,   yet  gave  him 
 a  blessing,  was  but  another  development  of  tlie 
 career  of  the  Jewish  Church,  always  struggling 
 with  difficulties,  and  in  the  moment  of  success, 
 suddenly  withered  by  the  captivity,   yet  partially 
 recovering,  to  be  blessed  with  the  presence  of  the' 
 Messiah.     To  Christ  was  similarly  given,  under 
 the  direct  influence  of  the  Divine   Spirit,   a   de- 
 velopment of  the  future  fortunes   and  nature  of 
 7 
 
540  THE    SECOND    ADAM. 
 
 the  Christian  Church,  under  the  three  successive 
 evils  which  marked  its  decline  :  the  indulo^ence  of 
 the  worldly  appetite  for  wealth  and  honour,  in 
 the  fourth  century  ;  the  spiritual  imposture  and 
 miracle-working  of  the  seventh  ;  and  the  am- 
 bition of  universal  sovereignty  in  the  twelfth  ; 
 snares,  which  the  purer  portion  of  the  Church 
 defied.  Thus  Christ,  who,  from  his  perfect  iden- 
 tification with  the  true  Church,  undergoes  those 
 successive  temptations  as  her  representative,  tri- 
 umphs over  all,  and  finally  repels  the  tempter'. 
 
 Immediately  after  the  temptation,  the  Church 
 of  Christ  begins  to  exist,  by  the  calling  of  the 
 disciples ;  the  bride  is  thus  brought  to  the  second 
 Adam.  And  as  the  blessing  of  "  increase  and 
 multiply"  was  given  to  our  first  parents ;  the 
 promise  of  a  boundless  oflfspring  is  given  to  the 
 Church  ;  to  the  disciples  it  is  declared  by  a  mi- 
 racle singularly  expressive  of  abundance ;  that 
 they  shall  be  "  fishers  of  men." 
 
 After  some  interval,  yet  immediately  preceding 
 the  removal  from  Paradise,  Satan  had  tempted 
 Adam  and  Eve,  beginning  with  Eve  :  and  the 
 temptation  was  power  :  "  Ye  shall  be  as  gods." — 
 
 '  The  limits  of  this  volume  preclude  the  larger  application, 
 .of  which  the  theory  is  perfectly  capable.  It  has  been  already 
 stated  at  some  length  in  a  former  work — "  The  New  Interpre- 
 tation of  the  Apocalypse."  With  the  theories  of  the  Trans- 
 figuration and  the  Crucifixion,  which  can  be  but  alluded  to  in 
 these  pages,  it  may  form  the  subject  of  a  future  publication. 
 
THE    SECOND    ADAM.  541 
 
 Towards  the  close  of  Christ's  ministry,  the  popu- 
 lar zeal  "  would  have  made  him  a  king."  The 
 minds  of  his  disciples  are  seduced  by  the  pros- 
 pect ;  they  contend  among  each  other  for  supre- 
 macy, and  Peter  openly  contradicts  our  Lord's 
 declaration,  that  his  purpose  on  earth  was  to  die  : 
 a  declaration  for  which  he  is  sternly  rebuked,  in 
 the  same  words  which  had  already  repelled  and 
 stigmatised  the  tempter—"  Get  thee  behind  me, 
 Satan." 
 
 The  distinction  between  Adam  and  Christ  is, 
 that  Christ,  though  similarly  tempted,  is  sinless, 
 and  vanquishes  the  temptation.  But,  in  both 
 instances,  the  bride  is  tempted  first,  yields,  and 
 proposes  the  temptation  to  her  husband. 
 
 By  attending  to  the  close  connexion  of  the  type 
 and  the  anti-type,  we  now  arrive  at  the  explana- 
 tion of  an  event  which  has  greatly  perplexed  all 
 inquiry,— Christ's   agony  in  Gethsemane.     Why 
 He  should   sorrow,    who  knew  no  sin ;   why  he 
 should  exhibit  such  keen  anxiety  in  the  prospect 
 of  merely  human  suffering,   whose  whole  life  was 
 a  preparative  for  endurance  ;  or  should  implore 
 of  Heaven,   with   the    strongest   signs  of  mental 
 torture,  the  escape  from  a  brief  suffering,  at  its 
 worst,   borne  boldly  by  the  outcasts  of  society ; 
 while  he  had  before  him  the  rewards  which  made 
 many  a  martyr  defy  the  rack  and  tlie  flame  ;— all 
 this  is  singularly  incompatible  with  the  undevi- 
 ating  dignity  of  his  mind,  the  constant  and  calm 
 
542  THE    SECOND    ADAM. 
 
 avowal  that  crucifixion  was  to  be  liis  fate  ;  and 
 the  composure  which  he  assumed  immediately 
 after,  sustained  during  his  trial  before  the  priests 
 and  Pilate,  and  displayed  even  on  the  cross  itself, 
 to  the  pardoning  of  the  penitent  thief,  providing 
 for  the  protection  of  his  mother,  and  praying  for  his 
 enemies.  All  those  imply,  even  in  the  human 
 sense  of  the  phrase,  a  mind  of  the  highest  order 
 of  manliness,  self-possession,  and  fortitude.  But, 
 the  true  explanation  is  to  be  found,  in  his  being 
 the  appointed  and  exact  representative  of  Adam  ; 
 who,  in  his  first  consciousness  of  having  brought 
 down  the  Divine  wrath,  hid  himself  in  terror 
 among  the  trees  of  the  garden.  Christ,  after  the 
 Paschal  Supper,  goes  to  the  garden,  and  prepares 
 himself  for  the  agony,  as  a  distinct  portion  of  the 
 task  which  must  be  undergone.  The  agony  of 
 our  first  parent  must  have  been  wrought  to  an 
 indescribable  pitch  of  horror,  misery,  and  despair, 
 if  mental  suffering  is  to  be  at  all  proportioned  to 
 the  value  of  what  has  been  lost,  or  the  keenness 
 of  what  is  to  be  suffered.  What  must  have  been 
 the  torture  of  his  mind,  who  felt  that  by  a  single 
 act  he  had  forfeited  all  the  glories  and  enjoyments 
 of  existence  ;  that  he  had  thrown  away  existence 
 itself;  and  had  now  only  to  meet  the  heaviest 
 wrath  of  Heaven  '  ! 
 
 '  The  commentators  have  singularly  enfeebled  the  purport  of 
 the  Agony,  by  conceiving  it  to  express  simply,  our  Lord's  hu- 
 mility, and  his  personal  sorrow  fur  human  sins,      l^isliop  llors- 
 
THE    SECOND    ADAM.  543 
 
 The  distinction  of  the  characters,  however, 
 remains  ;  and  where  Adam  was  all  horror  and 
 remorse,  Christ  mingles  with  his  agony  obedience. 
 "  Let  this  cup  pass  from  me  ;  nevertheless,  not 
 my  will,  but  thine  be  done." 
 
 But  the  sentence  is  to  be  passed  on  Adam  ;  and 
 not  on  him  alone,  but  on  Eve,  and  on  the  serpent. 
 Again,  the  connexion  of  the  type  and  the  anti- 
 type explains  a  difficulty  which  has  long  perplexed 
 all  interpretation.  Why  Christ  should  have  been 
 crucified  between  two  malefactors  ;  why  one  of 
 them  should  have  suddenly  adopted  the  language 
 of  pious  hope,  while  the  other  only  broke  out  into 
 scoffing  and  despair ;  why  the  instant  opening  of 
 
 ley  considers  it  as  chiefly  a  call  to  man  to  bear  misfortune 
 patiently ;  "See  this  good  and  perfect  man  patiently  bearing 
 our  sorrows  :  humble  thyself,  arrogant  philosophy,  say  not  that 
 affliction  is  not  an  evil ;  say  that  it  is  to  be  borne  with  humility, 
 as  the  punishment  of  sin,"  &c.  (Sermons.)  Paley  looks  upon  it 
 as  an  instance  of  the  due  vehemence  of  prayer,  an  intense  so- 
 licitation for  strength  at  the  approach  of  death  ;  an  agony  of 
 entreaty,  which  he  strongly  recommends  to  every  one.  "  We 
 find  our  Lord  in  his  last  extremity  resorting  to  prayer,  and 
 with  an  earnestness,  a  vehemence  of  devotion,  suited  to  the 
 occasion.  One  great  extremity  at  least,  the  hour  of  approaching 
 death,  is  to  be  passed  through  by  all ;  what  then  ought  to  oc- 
 cupy us — prayer.  Prayer  with  our  blessed  Lord  was  the  refuge 
 from  the  storm."  (Sermons.)  Such  are  the  extravagances  into 
 which  even  this  clear-headed  writer  could  heat  his  imajjination. 
 The  value  of  constant  prayer  is  indisputable  ;  but  are  we  to  be 
 urged  to  an  agony  of  prayer,  to  the  palpable  mental  torture, 
 which  even  in  Christ  required  the  comfort  of  an  angel  i 
 
544  THE    SECOND    ADAM. 
 
 Paradise  should  have  been  declared  in  that  hour 
 of  suffering  ;  and  why  the  dying  words  of  the 
 Saviour  should  yet  have  been  expressive  of  his 
 being  under  the  deepest  sense  of  Divine  rejection ^ 
 All  those  are  questions  of  high  interest,  which 
 have  exercised  the  mind  from  the  earliest  age, 
 and  which  press  upon  the  feelings  of  the  Chris- 
 tian to  this  hour. 
 
 But  the  whole  scene  of  suffering  becomes  ex- 
 plicable by  a  reference  to  the  type.  The  last  act 
 of  the  Divine  government  in  Paradise  was  the 
 sentence  of  Adam.  Three  criminals  there  stood  be- 
 fore the  Judge  :  Adam,  Eve,  and  the  serpent.  The 
 three  were  sentenced,  but  the  man  and  the  woman, 
 by  the  new  covenant  of  mercy,  were  subjected 
 only  to  temporary  death  ;  they  were  virtually  for- 
 given, and  prepared  for  entrance  into  the  place  of 
 
 ^  The  natural  reluctance  of  divines  to  admit  that  our  Lord 
 could  have  been  reduced  to  this  extremity,  proposes  some  read- 
 ings of  the  text  which  are  altogether  inadmissible.  Lightfoot 
 thinks  that  "Why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?"  should  be  understood 
 "  Why  hast  thou  given  me  into  such  hands  ?"  Dr.  Smith  (Script. 
 Test.)  thinks  that  it  is  little  more  than  a  general  reference  to 
 the  Psalm ;  Rosenmuller,  a  mere  expression  or  interjection  of 
 mental  suffering ;  Dr.  Clarke,  an  exclamation  of  surprise  at  the 
 wickedness  of  the  people — to  what  hast  thou  abandoned  me ! 
 Others,  that  lvutl  may  mean  eiq  n,  &c.  But  Scripture  cannot 
 require  those  dexterities.  The  text  is  unequivocal  dejection, 
 felt  through  unequivocal  suffering;  the  same  suffering  which 
 the  first  man  felt  in  the  misery  of  his  guilt.  How  to  reconcile 
 this  with  Deity  is  not  the  question  for  human  powers. 
 
THE    SECOND    ADAM.  545 
 
 the  redeemed.     The  third  criminal,  the  serpent, 
 was  beyond  forgiveness,  and  was  abandoned  to  his 
 full     sentence    of    despair. — At   the    crucifixion, 
 Christ    retains    his    representative    character    of 
 Adam.     Though  sinless,  he  is  under  the  curse ; 
 "Cursed  is  everyone  that  hangeth  on  a  tree." 
 The  heart  of  the  penitent  criminal  is  already  of  his 
 Church,  a  representative  of  the  Bride,  the  forgiven 
 Eve  of  the  lost  Paradise.     The  heart  of  the  scoffer 
 and  impenitent  is  the  representative  of  that  evil 
 Spirit  of  which  it  has  been  the  slave.     Still  the 
 original  distinction  between   Christ  and  Adam  is 
 preserved.     Christ  is  God  and  man  :  as  man  he 
 suffers,  and  exclaims,  in  the  language  of  a  being 
 on  whom  the  hand  of  eternal  justice  has  fallen  ;  as 
 God,   even  in  that  moment,  he  pardons  the  re- 
 pentant   sinner,    and   receives   the   soul   into   his 
 kingdom  '. 
 
 '  The  commentators  heave  mistaken  the  principle  of  this  great 
 transaction.  Bishop  Sherlock  thinks  that  the  different  fate  of 
 the  malefactors  was  for  the  purpose  of  showing,  by  the  prox- 
 imity of  justice  and  mercy,  "  how  to  fear  without  despair,  and 
 to  trust  without  presumption."  (Sermons.)  Lightfoot  considers 
 the  faith  of  the  penitent  thief  to  have  been  the  whole  origin  of 
 the  distinction.  "  His  was  a  great  faith,  which  could  discover 
 Christ  under  such  a  scorned,  crucified  Jesus."  Others  look 
 upon  the  distinction  as  an  evidence  of  the  exhaustless  mercy  of 
 Heaven.  But  if  this  were  the  object,  the  conversion  of  both 
 the  malefactors  would  have  naturally  been  the  result.  Those 
 interpretations,  too,  omit  all  the  characteristics. 
 
 N  n 
 
CHAPTER   XLV. 
 
 THE  APOSTOLIC  CHURCH. 
 
 The  parallelism   continues  through  the  history  of 
 Adam  and  his  descendants, 
 
 Adam,  departing  from  Paradise,  is  thenceforth 
 to  spend  his  existence  in  culturing  the  wilderness 
 of  the  world ;  yet  not  without  a  promise  that 
 Paradise  shall  again  be  opened  when  the  serpent 
 is  slain. — Eve  conceives,  and  bears  a  son,  to  whom 
 she  gives  a  name  of  triumph,  "  Cain,"  in  the  faith 
 of  the  promise,  that  from  her  shall  descend  the 
 Victor.— She  subsequently  bears  another  son,  to 
 whom  she  gives  a  name  of  feebleness,  Abel. — Cain 
 is  a  husbandman,  Abel  a  shepherd. — They  both 
 come  to  man's  estate,  and  then  severally  offer 
 sacrifice ;  Cain  a  wilful  sacrifice,  of  the  fruits  of 
 his  own  labours ;  Abel  a  commanded  sacrifice,  of 
 the  firstlings  of  his  flock ;  the  former  a  sacrifice  of 
 works,  the  latter  a  sacrifice  of  faith. — Cain  is  in- 
 dignant at  the  Divine  preference  of  his  brother's 
 offerino- ;  rejects  the  Divine  remonstrance  ;  and  at 
 length  kills  his  brother.  —  He  thenceforth  loses  the 
 inheritance,    is   exiled   from  the  presence  of  the 
 
THE   APOSTOLIC    CHURCH.  547 
 
 Divine  Glory,  and  sent  forth  to  wander  throuo-h 
 the  earth,  without  the  possibiHty  of  return,  or  of 
 reclaiming-  the  inheritance. — To  Eve  another  son, 
 Seth,  is  then  born,  expressly  to  supply  the  place 
 of  Abel ;  and  thus  to  be  the  head  of  the  sacred 
 line,  the  true  inheritor.— Seth  establishes  an  un- 
 broken succession  of  the  true  worshippers. — But 
 degeneracy  at  last  begins  to  encroach  upon  the 
 Sethites,  and  Enoch,  a  prophet  and  preacher  of 
 righteousness,  rebukes  their  falling  away,  and  is 
 finally  borne  to  heaven. — The  Sethites  intermarry 
 with  the  Cainites,  degenerate  still  more,  and  are 
 given  over  to  the  devastations  of  savage  and  vio- 
 lent tribes,  until  the  earth  is  filled  with  violence, 
 and  a  deluge  sweeps  all  away,  with  the  exception 
 of  the  single  patriarchal  family. 
 
 Christianity  accurately  preserves  the  parallelism 
 alike  in  the  nature  and  order  of  the  leading:  facts 
 of  its  history. — The  number  of  the  disciples,  dur- 
 ing the  mission  of  our  Lord  in  Judaea  (the  type  of 
 Paradise)  was  unaccountably  small ;  (but  was  thus 
 the  truer  to  the  type),    it  was  only  on  the  depar- 
 ture of  the  Apostolic  Church  from  Jerusalem  into 
 the  Gentile  world,  that  Christianity  bore  offspring. 
 The  gifts  of  the  Holy  Spirit  had  then  qualified  the 
 apostles  for  exercising  the  commission  to  go  and 
 convert   "  all  nations^'  and  it  was  then  that  the 
 infant  church  was  formed  among  the  Gentiles,  a 
 church  which  was  yet  to  grow  to  such  extent  and 
 power.— Christianity  exulted  over  its   birth,   and 
 
 N  n  2 
 
548  THE    APOSTOLIC    CHURCH. 
 
 communicated  to  it  the  new  baptism,  not  by  water 
 alone  (the  original  baptism  of  John),  but  by  water 
 and  the  spirit ;  thus  the  new  name  was  given  in 
 triumph,  and  the  Bride,  the  original  depository  of 
 the  Gospel,  rejoiced  in  having  gotten  "  the  man 
 from  the  Lord,"  the  destined  destroyer  of  the  king- 
 dom of  Satan  on  the  earth. — The  church  of  the  Gen- 
 tiles grew  in  vigour  and  opulence ;  its  characteristic 
 was  earthly  exertion :  it  was  a  tamer  of  the  soil,  a 
 gatherer  of  the  fruits  of  the  world. — But,  as  ano- 
 ther son  was  to  be  born  of  the  Bride,  and  bear  the 
 name  of  weakness  ;  so  another  church  was  to  arise, 
 offering  in  its  poverty,  obscurity,  and  suffering, 
 the  strongest  contrast  to  the  opulence,  distinction, 
 and  luxury  of  the  elder  offspring  of  Christianity. 
 
 About  the  year  660,  the  denial  of  the  Scriptures 
 to  the  laity  in  the  Eastern  church,  corresponding 
 with  the  formation  of  the  Canon  of  the  Mass  by 
 Gregory  the  Second  in  the  Western,  produced  the 
 Reformers,  chiefly  called  Paulicians  in  the  East, 
 and  the  predecessors  of  the  Waldenses  in  the  West. 
 With  both  the  Bible  was  the  sole  standard  ;  both 
 were  poor,  but  singularly  zealous  ;  both  peasantry, 
 and  the  principal  occupation  of  the  European  por- 
 tion was  the  keeping  of  sheep.  The  Paulicians, 
 charged   with   Manichaeism  '  (which  they  always 
 
 '  It  is  evident  that  the  historians  of  both  the  East  and  West 
 confounded  the  extravagances  of  some  of  the  fanatics,  who  always 
 appear  at  the  dawn  of  religious  reform,  with  the  purer  portions 
 of  the  reformers.     Luther  might  as  well  have  been  charged  with 
 
THE    APOSTOLIC    CHURCH.  549 
 
 repelled  as  a  calumny),  and  severely  persecuted  by 
 the  Eastern  branch  of  the  paramount  church,  fled 
 into  Europe,  and  joining  with  their  brethren,  in 
 the  beginning  of  the  eleventh  century,  formed  the 
 Church  of  the  first  Reformation.  The  question  be- 
 tween the  two  Churches  now,  was  distinctly  rela- 
 tive to  the  means  of  obtaining  the  atonement  of 
 human  sin.  The  Church  of  Rome,  which  had 
 already  assumed  the  supremacy  over  the  East  and 
 West  alike,  placed  those  means  in  the  mass,  and 
 the  intercession  of  saints.  The  Church  of  the 
 Waldenses  denied  their  efiicacy,  and  rested  upon 
 faith  and  prayer.  It  was  the  original  question  of 
 sacrifice  by  luorks  and  sacrifice  by  faith;  brought 
 once  more  to  a  decision.  During  the  controversy, 
 many  powerful  minds  vindicated  the  scriptural 
 doctrine.  They  were  persecuted  and  silenced. — 
 At  length,  the  result  of  the  controversy  was  perse- 
 cution of  the  most  remorseless  kind.  Armies 
 were  let  loose  upon  the  Reformers,  the  Inqui- 
 sition was  established,  to  extirpate  them  still  more 
 eff'ectually  ;  and  in  the  thirteenth  century,  they 
 were  completely  extinguished  as  a  body.  The  Abel 
 was  slain.    The  Church  which  had  shrunk  from  the 
 
 the  violences  and  absurdities  of  the  German  Anabaptists.  But 
 the  distinction  between  the  Paulicians  and  Manichocism  seems 
 to  be  impassable.  The  Paulicians  made  the  reading  of  the  Scrip- 
 tures an  universal  duty  ;  the  Manichaeans  denied  the  entire  of 
 the  Old  Testament,  and  almost  the  entire  of  the  New.  What 
 distinction  could  practically  be  more  decided  ? 
 
550  THE    APOSTOLIC    CHURCH. 
 
 altar  of  human  merits,  penances,  works  of  super- 
 erogation, and  the  intercession  of  saints  and  angels, 
 was  destroyed  hy  the  swoi'd. — From  this  period  the 
 ceremonial  and  doctrines  against  which  Protest- 
 antism most  strongly  objects,  advanced  with  an 
 unrestrained  progress  in  the  Church  of  Rome.  Its 
 temporal  power,  at  the  close  of  the  persecution  of 
 the  Waldenses,  was  unrivalled  ;  yet  it  is  not  less 
 remarkable,  that  from  this  period  it  unequivocally 
 declined.  Its  frame  exhibited  the  stamp  of  exile. 
 From  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century  to 
 its  close,  from  Innocent  III.  to  the  accession  of 
 Boniface  VIII.  in  1294,  the  dominion  of  the  Pon- 
 tiffs had  been  supreme.  "  From  this  epocha  that 
 extraordinary  power  over  human  opinion  has  been 
 subsiding,  for  five  centuries." — But,  as  another 
 son  was  to  be  born,  "  instead  of  Abel,  whom  Cain 
 slew  ;"  so  another  Church  was  to  arise,  holding  the 
 same  principle  with  the  extinguished  one,  though 
 not  suff'ering  the  same  fate ;  but  establishing  a 
 line  of  successful  purity  and  adherence  to  the 
 original  principle.  In  a.d.  1517,  the  Church  of 
 the  German  Reformation  openly  commenced  its 
 protest  against  the  paramount  Church  ;  perse- 
 vered through  all  difficulties,  and  finally  esta- 
 blished Protestantism  in  Europe. 
 
 The  ante-diluvian  record,  in  its  brevity,  had 
 stated  but  one  event  between  the  birth  of  Seth  and 
 the  intermarriages  of  the  Sethite  population  with 
 the  descendants  of  Cain ;  that  event  was  the  proplie- 
 
THE    APOSTOLIC    CUUllCH.  551 
 
 sying  and  ascent  of  Enoch.  In  the  Christian  era 
 there  is  no  similar  event  in  a  material  shape,  but  it 
 has  its  representative,  perfectly  adapted  to  the 
 character  of  the  era,  which  is  spirituality. — The 
 Christian  Enoch  is  the  Bible,  the  "  Two  Wit- 
 nesses prophesying  in  sackcloth,"  through  the  long 
 period  of  Christian  degeneracy,  and  protesting 
 against  the  growing  guilt  of  the  world.— They 
 are  at  length  overpowered  by  the  violence  of  in- 
 fidelity, but,  at  the  moment  of  apparent  extinc- 
 tion, are  exalted  in  sudden  triumph  to  a  state  of 
 freedom  and  security  beyond  all  future  restraint 
 of  man.  This  memorable  evidence  of  the  Divine 
 power  has  existed  in  our  own  day,  in  the  extraordi- 
 nary diffusion  of  the  Scriptures;  the  final  breaking 
 of  the  chains  that  had  fettered  their  freedom  since 
 the  commencement  of  the  Papal  supremacy  \ 
 
 From  this  event,  all,  to  us,  is  future.  The  sub- 
 sequent events  of  the  ante-diluvian  series  were,  an 
 universal  prevalence  of  corruption,  resulting  from 
 the  guilty  and   humiliating  connection  of  the  pos- 
 
 '  Apoc.  c.  xi.  The  reference  of  this  chapter  is  still  more  dis. 
 tinct  to  the  history  of  Elijah,  the  Enoch  of  the  Jewish  dispen- 
 sation ;  yet  only  from  our  more  detailed  knowledge  of  the  latter. 
 The  periods  and  duties  of  both  distinctly  correspond  in  the  Patri- 
 archal and  Jewish  series,  both  are  similariy  employed,  similariy 
 thwarted,  and  similariy  raised  to  heaven.  It  is  true,  that  in  the 
 Apocalyptic  chapter  the  Two  Witnesses  are  represented  as  dead, 
 by  violence  ;  yet  it  is  but  for  three  days  and  a  half,  and  ihey  arc 
 not  put  into  the  en-ave.  They  suddenly  spring  up  from  this  brief 
 period  of  death,  and  ascend  to  glory  and  power  beyond  man. 
 
552  THE    APOSTOLIC    CHURCH. 
 
 sessors  of  the  true  faith  with  the  rejected  line  ;  then 
 a  resulting  reign  of  violence  ;  then  a  resulting  vast 
 infliction  of  the  Divine  wrath  ;  then  a  deluge,  de- 
 stroying both  the  corrupters  and  the  corrupted,  and 
 leaving  only  a  small  remnant,  divinely  rescued  ; 
 then  universal  empire  in  the  hands  of  that  remnant; 
 then  a  violent  rebellion  of  their  descendants,  finally 
 broken  up  by  the  distinct  agency  of  Heaven. 
 
 Those  events  have  already  been  twice  realized  ; 
 in  the  ante-diluvian  era,  in  a  material  and  visible 
 shape ;  in  the  Jewish,  in  part  visibly,  by  the 
 rapid  vices  and  final  havoc  of  the  nation,  and 
 the  actual  elevation  of  the  rescued  remnant  (the 
 Church  of  the  true  Israel,  under  the  name  of  Chris- 
 tianity,) to  universal  religious  authority  ;  and  in 
 part  spiritually,  by  the  exclusion  of  the  Jewish  na- 
 tion from  the  Gospel  before  their  fall,  and  the 
 spiritual  nature  of  that  dominion  to  which  alone 
 the  primitive  Church  preferred  a  claim.  Their 
 realization  in  the  future  years  of  Christianity  must 
 be  developed  only  by  time  \ 
 
 '  The  controversy  between  the  Reformers  and  Rome  on  the 
 sacrifice  by  works  and  by  faith,  was  drawn  closer  still.  The 
 Eucharist,  the  only  Christian  sacrifice,  had  early  become  an  ob- 
 ject of  singular  innovation.  The  Treatise  of  Paschasius  Radbert 
 in  831,  first  embodied  the  Romish  doctrines  of  the  actual  change 
 of  the  Sacrament  into  the  flesh  and  blood  of  Christ.  He  was 
 vigorously  opposed  even  by  those  of  his  own  Church,  with  the 
 famous  Rabanus  Maurus  at  their  head.  From  transubstantiation 
 naturally  proceeded  the  doctrine  of  adoring  the  host,  and  finally, 
 the  denial  of  the  cup  to  the  laity ;  a  practice  which  excluded 
 the  very  symbol  ol  the  blood,  the  peculiar  sign  of  sacrijice. 
 
CHAPTER    XLVI. 
 
 CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 The  correspondence  of  the  Christian  era  with  the 
 Jewish,  displays  the  providential  Government  in  a 
 still  more  striking  point  of  view,  because  in  a 
 series  more  minute,  defined,  and  abundant  in 
 events.  But  the  distinction  is  observable,  (arising 
 from  the  spirituality  of  the  era,)  that  the  spirit  of 
 the  events  constitutes  the  principal  object.  Thus, 
 the  work  of  Moses,  the  prophet,  meek  and  holy, 
 is  done  in  the  corresponding  era,  by  the  intrepidity 
 and  decision  of  the  soldier,  Constantine  ;  thus,  the 
 work  of  David  and  Solomon,  the  models  of  hero- 
 ism and  wisdom,  is  done  by  the  dubious  valour 
 and  perplexed  iutelligence  of  Justinian.  Still, 
 even  in  those  examples,  the  authentic  resemblance 
 is  sustained  ;  if  we  have  not  the  likeness  in  the 
 separate  features,  we  have  it  in  the  outline  ;  the 
 variety  natural  to  remoteness  of  descent  is  there  ; 
 but  the  general  expression  amply  vindicates  the 
 origin. 
 
 The   parallelism   of  the  Jewish   and  Christian 
 
554  CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 eras  ascends  to  the  highest  point  of  Jewish  his- 
 tory. The  leading  events  of  both  can  alone  be 
 given  in  this  summary. — A  Divine  promise  of 
 offspring  was  announced  to  Abraham  on  his  first 
 entering  Palestine,  with  a  declaration  that  his 
 descendants  should  be  innumerable  '. — Sarah, 
 impatient  at  the  delay  of  the  promise,  intreated 
 him  to  give  her  offspring  by  Hagar. — Hagar, 
 with  her  child  Ishmael,  began  her  course  in 
 affliction,  was  driven  into  the  wilderness,  was 
 guided  to  a  place  of  rest  by  an  angel,  and  re- 
 ceived the  mingled  and  partial  blessing,  that  her 
 son  should  be  a  wild  man,  with  his  hand  against 
 every  man,  and  every  man's  against  his  ;  but  that, 
 notwithstanding,  the  universal  hostility  should  not 
 be  suffered  to  extinguish  him  ;  he  should  "  dwell 
 in  the  presence  of  his  brethren  ^" — On  a  subse- 
 quent occasion,  the  promise  of  offspring  by  Sarah 
 was  renewed. — Abraham  prayed  for  Ishmael  :  he 
 was  answered,  that  Ishmael  should  be  made  the 
 father  of  twelve  princes,  and  of  a  great  nation, 
 but  still,  with  Isaac  only  should  the  covenant  be 
 established.     It  was  at  the  same  time  declared, 
 
 *  Gen.  xiii.  15,  10. 
 
 ^  This  promise,  of  course,  primarily  referred  to  the  Arab  habits 
 which  were  to  mark  the  personal  descendants  of  Ishmael.  But 
 the  exact  application  of  a  type,  formed  on  grounds  so  remote 
 from  the  Jewish  polity,  as  the  lawless,  roving,  and  half  savage 
 manners  of  Arabia,  is  a  most  remarkable  instance  of  the  Divine 
 system. 
 
CHRISTENDOM.  555 
 
 that  the  names  of  the  Patriarch  and  his  wife 
 were  changed  into  others,  expressive  of  a 
 boundless  posterity. — The  immediate  birth  of 
 the  promised  offspring  was  next  announced  by 
 angels  ;  and  Isaac  was  born. — While  yet  a  youth, 
 he  was  on  the  point  of  being  put  to  death,  but 
 was  saved  by  Divine  interposition. — He  became 
 the  father  of  Jacob,  from  whom  proceeded  the 
 future  lords  of  Palestine. — The  sons  of  Jacob, 
 pressed  by  famine,  took  refuge  in  Egypt. — There 
 their  way  had  been  prepared  by  one  of  their 
 brethren,  Joseph. — In  Egypt,  they  lived  separate 
 from  the  Egyptians,  and  pursued  their  occupation 
 as  shepherds. — In  a  succeeding  reign,  they  were 
 subjected  to  bondage.  The  bondage  grew  in- 
 tolerable ;  and  their  cry  summoned  the  Divine 
 compassion  to  their  aid. — A  succession  of  tre- 
 mendous inflictions  on  the  tyrannical  government 
 and  people,  compelled  the  remission  of  this 
 bondage. — The  Egyptian  king,  terrified  by  the 
 scene  of  death  round  him,  finally  urged  them  to 
 be  gone,  and  even  solicited  their  blessing.  "  Take 
 your  flocks  and  herds,  and  be  gone,  and  bless  me 
 alsoK'' — The  people  went  forth  triumphantly, 
 and  led  by  the  pillar  of  flame. — They  were  pur- 
 sued by  the  king  and  his  army,  who  followed 
 them  into  the  channel  of  the  sea ;  and  who,  in 
 sight  of  the  spot  where  the  Israelites  had  reached 
 the  laud,  were  totally  destroyed. 
 
 '  Exod.  xii.  32. 
 
556  CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 At  this  point,  from  which  commences  the 
 Mosaic  dispensation,  we  pause  a  moment,  to  ex- 
 hibit the  connexion  of  the  two  series. 
 
 The  history  of  Christianity  is  older  than  that 
 of  Judseism. — The  result  of  the  great  covenant  of 
 mercy  was  an  original  promise  to  mankind,  that 
 a  Church  should  exist,  which,  born  in  Palestine, 
 should  finally  encompass  all  nations. — But,  while 
 the  birth  of  this  promised  offspring  was  delayed, 
 another  Church,  by  its  nature  illegitimate,  came 
 into  being  in  Palestine.  This  is  the  distinction 
 taken  by  St.  Paul,  between  the  offspring  of  Hagar 
 and  the  offspring  of  Sarah — the  child  of  the  bond- 
 woman and  the  child  of  the  free;  "For  it  is 
 written  that  Abraham  had  two  sons,  the  one  bv 
 a  bondmaid,  the  other  by  a  free  woman.  Which 
 things  are  an  allegory  :  for  those  are  the  two 
 covenants ;  the  one  from  Mount  Sinai,  which 
 gendereth  to  bondage,  which  is  Hagar.  For  this 
 Sinai  is  Mount  Sinai  in  Arabia,  and  answereth 
 to  Jersualem,  which  now  is,  and  is  in  bondage 
 with  her  children  \" — At  length,  by  the  voice  of 
 the  Deity  himself,  the  promise  of  the  Christian 
 Church  was  renewed ;  with  a  declaration  of  its 
 boundless  future  extent. — But  a  blessins:  on  the 
 Jewish  Cliurch  was  granted,  in  the  form  of  a 
 promise,  that  it  should  constitute  the  worship  of 
 twelve    tribes,      "  twelve    princes,"    forming   a 
 
 '  Gal.  iv.  22,  &c. 
 
CHRISTENDOM.  557 
 
 powerful  nation.  A  previous  declaration  had 
 stated  the  character  of  the  people ;  that  they 
 should  be  fierce,  intractable,  and  separate  from 
 all  other  nations ;  "a  wild  man;"  but  that,  in 
 the  midst  of  the  universal  alienation  which  they 
 thus  felt  and  thus  provoked,  they  should  still  be 
 sustained.  But,  it  was  declared,  that  the  true 
 Covenant  was  not  for  the  Church  of  the  Law, 
 but  for  the  Church  of  the  Promise,  yet  to  be 
 born. — At  length  it  was  divinely  announced  that 
 the  birth  was  at  hand.  The  announcement  was 
 received  by  Judaea,  as  by  Sarah  ;  the  promise  had 
 been  delayed  until  the  land  was  in  her  old  age, 
 and  at  once  incapable,  and  contemptuous,  of  the 
 birth.  But  the  power  of  Heaven  interposed,  and, 
 at  the  time  appointed  from  the  beginning,  the 
 Christian  Church  was  miraculously  born. — While 
 still  young,  it  was,  like  Isaac,  on  the  point  of 
 being  slain  in  Jerusalem.  But,  like  him,  it  was 
 saved,  in  the  same  spot,  by  the  protection  of  God, 
 who  had  also  provided  a  sacrifice  for  himself  in  its 
 stead.  On  the  seizure  of  Christ,  the  infirm  Church 
 had  instantly  dispersed,  and  seemed  to  be  on  the 
 point  of  extinction  ;  but,  on  the  sacrifice  of  Him 
 who  was  the  Paschal  Lamb,  the  great  substitute 
 and  atoner,  it  reassembled,  received  new  strength, 
 and  commenced  a  new  career ;  it  had  been  Isaac, 
 a  scorn  and  public  "  derision  ;"  it  was  now  to  be 
 Israel,  "prevailing  with  God;"  a  possessor  of 
 power  and  success  with  God  and  man. — But  the 
 
558  CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 chief  Jews  still  persecuted  Christianity  ;  and  it 
 began  to  withdraw  from  Jerusalem,  and  take 
 refuge  in  the  Gentile  world.  (It  will  be  ob- 
 served, that  during  the  entire  conduct  of  this 
 delicate,  and  yet  most  significant,  allegory,  the 
 same  images  are  used  for  the  Church  of  bondage 
 and  the  Church  of  freedom  ;  the  spirit  of  Christi- 
 anity having,  in  fact,  always  existed  in  Israel,  how- 
 ever veiled  by  the  forms  and  ordinances  of  the 
 Mosaic  dispensation.)  The  Church  of  the  Twelve, 
 in  the  distress  of  Palestine,  the  Roman  ivar,  at 
 length  migrated  from  the  land  of  its  fathers,  into 
 the  land  of  a  strange  nation,  powerful,  rich,  and 
 learned,  beyond  all  others,  the  great  Gentile  em- 
 pire ;  where  its  coming  had  been  provided  for  by 
 the  sojourn  and  distinction  of  one  of  its  own 
 kindred.  This  instance  is  singularly  clear  and 
 powerful. 
 
 St.  Paul  was  the  direct  representative  of  Joseph. 
 The  fidelity  with  which  the  characteristics  of  the 
 Patriarch  are  reflected  in  the  life  of  the  Apostle,  was 
 unquestionably  an  object  of  design. — Joseph  w^as 
 the  favourite  son  of  his  house,  the  son  of  old  age, 
 the  brother  of  Benjamin.  St.  Paul  was  distin- 
 guished by  the  confidence,  and  was  employed  on 
 the  mission,  of  the  Sanhedrin  and  the  High  Priest; 
 he  was  of  the  purest  stock,  a  "  Hebrew  of  the 
 Hebrews,  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin,  as  touching 
 the  Law,  a  Pharisee." — A  sudden  mark  of  honour, 
 a  coat  of  many  colours,  a  clothing  of  peculiar 
 7 
 
CHRISTENDOM.  559 
 
 costliness  or  beauty,  given  exclusively  to  Joseph, 
 excited  the  hostility  of  his  brethren.  It  was  further 
 excited  by  his  own  declaration  of  a  dream,  in 
 which  he  saw  all  his  brethren  doing  homage  to  his 
 superiority.  Inflamed  with  jealousy,  they  would 
 have  put  him  to  death  ;  but  they  finally  sold  him 
 into  Egyptian  slavery.  St.  Paul,  on  his  journey 
 to  fulfil  the  mission  of  the  Sanhedrin,  was  sur- 
 rounded by  the  splendours  of  the  Divine  presence, 
 was  clothed  with  the  robe  of  light  and  inspiration, 
 the  "  glory  of  the  Lord."  From  that  time  he 
 became  an  object  of  Jewish  resentment.  But  his 
 powers  and  zeal  in  his  new  cause,  his  open  asser- 
 tions of  the  superiority  of  the  religion  and  office 
 with  which  he  was  intrusted,  and  his  vehement 
 exposure  of  the  cold  and  worn-out  formalities  of 
 the  Doctors  of  the  Law,  roused  universal  wrath 
 among  his  countrymen.  Their  instant  determi- 
 nation was,  to  put  him  to  death ;  to  which  many 
 of  them  bound  themselves  by  an  oath  ;  but  he  was 
 taken  out  of  their  hands. 
 
 The  closeness  of  detail  in  the  correspondence 
 is  striking.  Joseph  has  been  sent  by  his  father 
 "  to  see  whether  it  be  well  with  the  brethren, 
 and  well  with  their  flock;"  his  brethren  seeing: 
 him  coming,  "  conspire  against  him  to  slay  him," 
 and  to  slay  him  for  his  revelations.  "  Behold 
 this  dreamer  cometh."  They  determine  to  kill 
 him,  and  thus  put  an  end  to  the  fulfilment  of  his 
 words  :  '*  We  shall  see  what  will   become  of  liis 
 
560  CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 dreams.''  Reuben  desires  to  save  him,  and  ad- 
 vises that  they  should  throw  him  into  a  pit,  "  that 
 he  might  rid  him  out  of  their  hands,  to  deliver 
 him  to  his  father  again."  His  brethren  strip  him 
 of  his  coat  of  honour,  and  let  him  down  to  perish. 
 But,  "there  is  no  water  in  the  pit,"  and  he 
 is  uninjured.  While  he  continues  there,  the 
 Ishmaelite  merchants  are  seen,  carrying  their 
 goods  towards  Egypt.  Reuben  had  gone  away 
 previously,  leaving  him  in  the  pit :  Judah  then 
 recommends  that  they  should  not  bring  their 
 brother's  blood  on  their  heads,  but  should  sell 
 him.  The  advice  is  taken,  and  he  is  sent  as  a 
 slave  into  Egypt,  which  they  consider  as  pre- 
 cluding all  return  ;  for  they  declare  to  his  father 
 that  he  has  been  slain.  Jacob  mourns  for  him, 
 as  for  one  whose  loss  is  not  to  be  recompensed  : 
 his  guilty  sons  offer  him  comfort,  but  he  refuses 
 all  consolation. 
 
 St.  Paul,  clothed  in  the  garb  of  an  Apostle, 
 went  forth  to  visit  the  shepherds  and  the  flock  of 
 Israel,  by  the  command  of  the  great  Father  of 
 all.  The  Jews  conspired  to  slay  him,  and  slay 
 him  especially  for  his  doctrines  ;  naturally  con- 
 ceiving, that  the  extinction  of  so  zealous  a  mis- 
 sionary would  be  of  signal  service  in  impeding 
 the  progress  of  his  religion.  He  fell  into  their 
 hands,  was  brought  before  the  tribunal,  and  there 
 accused  of  being  a  "  mover  of  sedition,  a 
 pestilent    fellow,    and    ringleader   of   the    Naza- 
 
CHRISTENDOM.  5(31 
 
 renes;"  thus  stripping  him  of  the  honours  of  his 
 Apostleship.      They    acknowledge    that    "  they 
 would  have  judged  him  according  to  their  law," 
 as  a  profaner  of  the  Temple,   if  he  had  not  been 
 forcibly  taken  out  of  their  hands  by  the  soldiery. 
 Felix,   the   Roman  governor,    was  connected  by 
 marriage  with  the   nation,    ''  his   wife   Brasilia 
 being  a  Jewess."     He  heard   Paul  with  partial 
 conviction— listened  and  "trembled."     He  gave 
 him  into  the  custody  of  a  centurion,   with  orders 
 to  treat  him  gently,   and   intended  to  set  him  at 
 liberty,  but  yet  delayed  this  act  of  justice  through 
 personal  motives  :   "  he  hoped  that  money  should 
 have    been   given  him   of   Paul,    that  he  might 
 loose  him:'     Felix  was  recalled  from  his  govern- 
 ment;  and,    "  willing  to  do  the  Jews  a  pleasure, 
 left  Paul  bound:' 
 
 In  the  governorship  of  Festus,   his  successor, 
 Paul  claimed  his  right  of  appeal  to  the  emperor. 
 This  prevented  his  being  sent  ''  to  Jerusalem,  to 
 be  tried  there,"  which  saved  his  life,  for  the  Jews 
 had   resolved  to  kill  him  on  the  way.     Yet  he 
 might  have  lain  all  his  life  in  prison,  but  for  the 
 arrival  of  king  Agrippa,  a  Jew,  the  son  of  Herod 
 Agrippa.     Before  him,   as  peculiarly  conversant 
 with  the  law,  Paul  was  publicly  examined ;   and 
 by  him  it  was  declared,  that  "  this  man  might 
 have  been  set  at  liberty  if  he  had  not  appealed  to 
 Ceesar."      Why     the     appeal    which    had    been 
 adopted   by  St.  Paul  as  a  protection  for  his  life, 
 
 o  o 
 
562  CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 should  have  been  turned  into  an  obstacle  to  his 
 liberty,  is  not  easily  to  be  conceived ;  unless  we 
 are  to  regard  king  Agrippa  as  willing  to  avail 
 himself  of  a  legal  artifice,  to  save  at  once  his  con- 
 science and  his  popularity.  The  result  was,  that 
 Paul  was  sent  as  a  prisoner  to  Rome.  There  his 
 bonds  could  not  restrain  his  heroic  zeal ;  he 
 preached  the  Gospel,  and  continually  explained  the 
 prophecies  of  the  Messiah,  to  many ;  and  among 
 those,  converted  some  of  rank  in  the  palace, 
 "  saints  of  Caesar's  household."  At  the  close  of 
 two  years  he  was  set  at  liberty,  and  imme- 
 diately recommenced  his  progress  through  the 
 empire,  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  establishment 
 of  Christianity.  He  sailed  to  Syria,  rapidly 
 passed  through  Asia  Minor,  and  returned  through 
 Macedonia,  Achaia,  and  Corinth,  to  Rome.  His 
 anxiety  was  evidently  centered  in  Rome,  where 
 he  had  founded  a  Church  containing  a  "vast  mul- 
 titude^;"  where  it  seems  to  have  been  revealed 
 
 '  "  Ingens  multitudo,"  is  the  expression  of  Tacitus,  describ- 
 ing the  Christians  of  the  persecution,  in  a.  d.  65,  the  year  of 
 St.  Paul's  death. 
 
 This  great  Apostle,  who  "  laboured  more  abundantly  than 
 them  all,"  is  supposed  to  have  been  slain  by  Nero's  order,  for 
 his  conversions  in  the  palace,  and  to  have  died  by  the  sword,  as 
 a  Roman  citizen ;  while  St.  Peter  was  crucified  as  a  Jew,  and, 
 according  to  tradition,  with  his  head  downwards,  by  his  own 
 desire,  as  being  unworthy  to  die  in  the  same  manner  as  liis 
 Master.  St.  Paul  was  beheaded  at  Aquae  Salviae,  three  miles 
 from  Rome,  and  buried  about  two  miles  on  the  Via  Ostensis, 
 
CHRISTENDOM.  563 
 
 to  him   that  he  was   to  die,    and  where  he  was 
 martyred  in  the  same  year\ 
 
 This  termination  of  his  career  was  unlike  the 
 tranquil  prosperity  of  Joseph's  latter  days  ;  but 
 the  active  and  important  portion  of  both  their 
 lives  was  the  same  :  the  chief  distinction  thus 
 being,  that,  after  Joseph  had  completed  the  es- 
 tablishment of  the  Israelites  in  Egypt,  he  was 
 permitted  to  enjoy  a  period  of  rest  on  earth  ; 
 while  St.  Paul's  whole  life  was  absorbed  in  his 
 mission,  and  his  Sabbath  was  reserved  for  the 
 place  of  those  spirits  who  await  the  coming  of 
 their  Lord. 
 
 The  minute  exactness  of  those  circumstances, 
 so  apparently  unimportant  to  the  general  narra- 
 tive, yet  so  admirably  adapted  to  mark  identity, 
 is  demonstrative  of  design  :  and  this  design  also 
 furnishes  an  answer  to  a  very  striking  question. 
 
 The  peculiarity  of  St.  Paul's  mission  must 
 naturall}'^  excite  inquiry.  The  services  of  a  zea- 
 lous and  learned  missionary,  in  propagating  a 
 religion,  cannot  be  a  matter  of  doubt ;  but  why 
 there  was  but  one  such  missionary,  for  a  purpose 
 which  throws  all  later  missions  into  eclipse ;  why, 
 instead  of  one  St.  Paul,  there  were  not  a  hundred; 
 why,  with  the  publicity  of  the  religion  so  dependent 
 
 where  Constantine  reared  a  Church  to  his  memory,  which  was 
 repaired  by  Theodosius. 
 '  A.D.  65. 
 
 o  o  2 
 
564  CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 on  its  preachers,  but  a  single  Jew  of  any  emi- 
 nence for  knowledge,  vigour,  and  intellectual 
 power,  should  have  been  sent  to  give  the  Gospel 
 to  the  whole  West — to  that  portion  of  the  globe 
 in  which  resided  all  the  elements  of  human  do- 
 minion and  mental  activity,  in  which  was  the 
 centre  of  empire,  and  in  which  was  to  be  the 
 centre  of  the  Church  ;  why  St.  Peter,  the  highly 
 honoured  Apostle,  the  bearer  of  the  keys,  and 
 whose  two  Epistles  prove  him  a  master  of  manly 
 eloquence  and  sacred  wisdom,  should  have  been  re- 
 stricted to  the  narrow  and  comparatively  stagnant 
 circle  of  Asia  Minor,  while  a  Jew  of  Tarsus  should 
 have  been  sent  forth  alone  to  scatter  Divine  know- 
 ledge, like  sparkles  of  flame,  as  he  hurried  on 
 through  Europe  ;  are  questions  of  difficulty. 
 The  remaining  Apostles  finished  their  course  in 
 the  obscurity  appointed  by  the  Divine  will.  Even 
 Titus  and  Timothy,  Barnabas,  and  the  other  co- 
 adjutors of  St.  Paul,  were  but  slightly  known. 
 May  not  a  chief  reason  of  this  extraordinary  selec- 
 tion have  been,  to  show  the  unity  of  the  Divine 
 plan  in  both  dispensations  ?  For  even  a  se- 
 cond missionary  of  the  same  rank,  would  have 
 defaced  the  exactness  of  the  correspondence.  But, 
 by  restricting  the  mission  to  St.  Paul,  we  find 
 the  leading  lineaments  of  Joseph's  career  renewed 
 with  a  living  clearness  in  the  history  of  the  one 
 great  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles. 
 
 Why  his  mission  should  have  been  urged  with 
 
CHRISTENDOM.  565 
 
 such  fervid  impetuosity  through  the  Gentile 
 world  at  that  moment ;  is  perhaps  to  be  best 
 accounted  for  by  the  necessity  of  providing  ah 
 immediate  place  of  shelter  for  the  Church,  It 
 was  known  to  Heaven,  though  not  to  man,  that 
 within  a  few  years  the  Church  would  be  forced  to 
 fly  from  Palestine;  not  simply  from  the  perse- 
 cutions of  Judah,  but  from  her  ruin  ;  Palestine 
 was  to  be  given  into  the  hands  of  the  spoiler. 
 When  the  false  Israel  was  to  perish,  the  true  Is- 
 rael must  be  a  fugitive ;  and,  to  provide  against 
 the  catastrophe,  which  was  now  rolling  on  the 
 wheels,  the  invisible,  but  resistless  wheels,  of 
 vengeance,  the  second  Joseph  was  sent,  speeding 
 before  it  through  the  world. 
 
 The  condition  of  the  Christian  Church  thence- 
 forth, in  the  Gentile  territory,  closely  represented 
 that  of  the  Israelite  in  Egypt. — It  kept  aloof  from 
 the  corruptions  of  the  idolator.  It  still  was  a 
 teacher  of  Revelation,  a  shepherd  of  the  sheep  ; 
 and  its  habits  were  a  subject  of  scorn,  and  even 
 of  hatred,  to  the  proud  and  dissolute  man  of  Rome. 
 "The  shepherd"  was  still  an  abomination  to  the 
 Egyptians. 
 
 In  Egypt,  the  oppression  was  gradual,  but  it 
 took  a  definite  and  exterminating  shape,  in  the 
 decree  for  the  murder  of  the  Hebrew  infants, 
 about  eighty  years  before  the  liberation. — The 
 fluctuations  of  imperial  cruelty  to  the  Church  were 
 fixed  by  the  similar  decree  of  Trajan,    in  the  be- 
 
566  CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 ginning  of  the  second  century,  declaring  Chris- 
 tianity a  capital  crime.  The  oppression  thenceforth 
 deepened,  until  the  cry  of  the  Church  reached 
 the  Divine  Throne.  Then  came  the  new  Plagues, 
 that  were  to  force  Rome,  by  suffering,  to  set  its 
 bond  slaves  free.  They  were  on  a  scale  propor- 
 tioned to  the  magnitude  and  the  guilt  of  the  em- 
 pire. 
 
 With  the  murder  of  Alexander  Severus,  com- 
 menced the  "  Era  of  Desolation."  In  a  former 
 chapter,  a  glance  has  been  given  at  those  agonies 
 of  empire.  They  were  worthy  to  punish  the  ini- 
 quities of  imperial  Paganism.  Strongly  built  as 
 were  the  ramparts  of  Roman  polity,  they  seemed 
 all  to  give  way  at  once,  and  every  shape  of  vice 
 and  baseness  rushed  over  the  ruins  to  plunder  at 
 will.  But  the  diadem  was  the  grand  temptation  ; 
 the  soil  was  covered  with  a  sudden  flood  of  regal 
 slaughter,  and  every  surge  bore,  or  submerged,  an 
 usurper.  This  dreadful  struggle  of  the  passions 
 lasted  for  almost  half  a  century,  pausing  only  to 
 gather  force  for  renewed  violence,  and  then  burst- 
 ing out  into  conflicts  that  threatened  to  crush  the 
 last  resources  of  the  state. 
 
 It  was  remarkable,  that  in  this  peculiar  period 
 the  Church  underwent  a  succession  of  suflerino-s, 
 which  regularly  preceded,  and  alternated  with, 
 the  successive  calamities  of  the  empire. — Maximin, 
 the  assassin  of  Severus,  first,  began  a  furious  per- 
 secution  of  the  Christians,   as  favourites   of  the 
 
CHRISTENDOM.  567 
 
 late  emperor ;  then  followed  a  general  havoc  of 
 Pagan  life,  sacrificed  to  the  fears  and  passions 
 of  this  crowned  savage  ;  on  his  fall,  the  Church 
 had  rest  for  twelve  years,  and  the  emperor  Philip 
 protected  it  so  publicly,  that  he  was  charged  with 
 being  a  convert. — Decius  next  renewed  the  perse- 
 cution with  furious  violence.  In  two  years  of  fac- 
 tion he  died  (a.d.  253) ;  the  Church  then  had  rest 
 for  three  years. — Valerian  next  renewed  the  perse- 
 cution. He  and  his  army  were  cut  off  by  the  Per- 
 sians ;  and  the  Church  again  had  rest  under  Gal- 
 lien  us  and  his  successors,  a  period  of  nearly  forty 
 years.  Yet  from  the  usurpation  of  Maximin  to  the 
 close  of  the  reign  of  Gallienus,  the  general  misery 
 of  the  Pagans  was  unspeakable.  For  the  first  eigh- 
 teen years  of  the  reign  even  of  Dioclesian,  Christ- 
 ianity was  comparatively  protected ;  the  fiercer 
 spirit  of  persecution  was  restrained,  and  the  Church 
 "  grew  and  mightily  prevailed."  But  the  original 
 process  was  at  length  to  be  renewed,  with  still 
 more  distinct  evidence  of  the  retaliation  of  Christ- 
 ian suffering  by  the  immediate  suffering  of  Pa- 
 ganism. 
 
 The  earlier  part  of  the  reign  of  Dioclesian  was 
 prosperous  alike  for  the  Church  and  the  empire. 
 The  four  chief  officers  or  governors  of  the  imperial 
 household  were  Christian ;  even  his  empress  Prisca 
 and  his  daughter  Valeria  were  Christian.  The 
 palace  and  all  the  high  public  employments  were 
 filled  with  avowed  believers  in  the  faith  of  Christ. 
 
 7 
 
568  CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 The  bishops  were  treated  with  some  respect  by  the 
 law.  During  this  period  the  empire  flourished.  The 
 long  and  arduous  struggle  with  Persia  had  been 
 terminated  by  the  memorable  defeat  of  Narses, 
 and  the  more  memorable  treaty  by  which  Meso- 
 potamia and  the  five  provinces  beyond  the  Tigris 
 were  ceded  for  ever  to  Rome.  The  whole  was 
 crowned  with  the  pomp  of  a  Roman  triumph  (a.d. 
 303).  The  tributary  world  did  homage  in  that 
 magnificent  display  to  the  majesty  of  the  empire  ; 
 the  emblems  of  Africa,  Britain,  the  Rhine,  the 
 Danube,  and  the  Nile,  were  followed  by  an  evi- 
 dence of  victor}^  still  more  surprising  to  the  popu- 
 lar eye,  the  children  of  "  the  great  king,"  the 
 captive  sons  and  household  of  the  Persian  mo- 
 narch, whose  name  had  so  long  been  a  terror  to 
 the  empire.  It  was  the  last  triumph  that  ever 
 marched  to  the  capitol. 
 
 But  in  the  same  year,  the  last  and  heaviest  of 
 the  persecutions  began.  The  violent  spirit  of  Gale- 
 rius  inflaming  the  frigid  philosophy  of  his  compa- 
 nion in  empire,  then  devastated  the  Church  for  ten 
 years.  Immediately  after  the  commencement  of 
 this  atrocious  cruelty,  Dioclesian  was  seized  with 
 an  illness,  which  compelled  him  to  resign  the 
 throne  (a.d.  305),  at  Nicomedia,  where  the  first 
 blow  of  the  persecution  had  been  struck.  After 
 nine  years  of  solitude,  he  died,  towards  the  close 
 of  the  persecution ;  his  latter  years  were  em- 
 bittered  by  domestic   anxieties,   and  he   is  even 
 
CHRISTENDOM.  569 
 
 supposed  to  have  become  insane,  and  died  by  his 
 own  hand. 
 
 But  the  public  retaliation  too  had  come,  and  in 
 its  prescribed  order.  "  The  abdication  of  Diocle- 
 sian  and  Maximian  was  followed  by  eighteen  years 
 of  discord  and  confusion.  The  empire  was  afflicted 
 by  civil  wars\"  At  the  end  of  this  torment  the 
 deliverer  of  the  Church  was  summoned. 
 
 The  whole  period  of  the  Persecutions  might 
 justify  the  amplest  detail  that  could  be  given  by 
 the  most  vivid  and  learned  pen  of  history  ;  but 
 here  their  coincidence  alone  can  be  alluded  to. 
 In  the  actual  retaliatory  sufferings  of  Rome,  there 
 was  but  little  direct  resemblance  to  those  of  Egypt; 
 but  subjects  so  singularly  distinct  required  a  dis- 
 tinction of  means.  Empire  spreading  over  the  world 
 was  not  to  be  chastised  by  the  local  vengeance  that 
 might  sweep  the  valley  of  the  Nile.  War,  which  ex- 
 tends with  such  universal  power  of  ruin  ;  war,  the 
 great  plastic  evil,  which  can  as  easily  crush  an  em- 
 pire as  a  province ;  the  unsparing  conflagration, 
 which  alike  grasps  the  patriarchs  of  the  forest,  and 
 consumes  the  weed  on  the  ground;  war,  alone  capa- 
 ble of  perpetual  revival,  and  perpetual  havoc,  alike 
 in  every  climate,  age,  and  condition  of  mankind  ; 
 was  the  only  minister  of  punishment  to  which  the 
 continued  exaction  of  the  penalty  of  imperial  crime 
 
 '  Gibbon,  vol.  ii. 
 
570  CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 could  be  committed,  without  a  miracle.    And  war 
 was  the  minister. 
 
 Still  there  was  a  resemblance.     The  war  was 
 
 followed  by  earthquakes,  storms,  and  meteors,  and 
 
 the  last  visitation   was  the  great    pestilence,   the 
 
 "slaying  of  the   first-born,"    the    fearful    havoc 
 
 which  prostrated  one  half  of  mankind. 
 
 But  the  resemblance  was  more  conspicuous  in 
 its  order.  It  might  have  been  previously  con- 
 ceived, that  when  persecution  was  once  let  loose 
 by  Pagan  fury  and  imperial  power,  it  would  have 
 persevered  until  it  extinguished  the  obnoxious  sect. 
 But  we  find  in  Rome,  as  in  Egypt,  the  persecu- 
 tion of  the  Church  constantly  connected  with  pub- 
 lic suffering,  and  the  persecution  then  suddenly 
 stopped  ;  as  if  the  terror  which  wrought  the  brief 
 repentance  of  Pharaoh  had  checked  the  habitual 
 tyranny  of  the  Csesar.  A  period  of  tranquillity  then 
 followed.  The  imperial  heart  then  hardened  itself 
 once  more.  The  same  order  then  recurred,  and 
 this  course  continued  during  almost  half  a  century. 
 But  there  remained  two,  still  more  peculiar,  fea- 
 tures of  the  Egyptian  visitation  ;  the  character  of 
 the  Jewish  leader ;  and  the  final,  consummate 
 overthrow  of  Pharaoh  in  the  Red  Sea. 
 
 It  would  be  but  a  coarse  conception  of  the  infi- 
 nite resources  and  incomparable  wisdom  of  Pro- 
 vidence, to  determine  that  in  producing  a  simi- 
 larity  of  result,   it  must  be  always  limited  to  a 
 
CHRISTENDOM.  571 
 
 similarity  of  means ;  that  what  has  been  once 
 done  by  a  priest  or  a  prophet,  must  be  done  by 
 the  hands  of  a  priest  or  a  prophet  through  all 
 time.  The  true  evidence  of  Divine  superiority  is 
 to  be  looked  for  in  the  direct  reverse  of  the  con- 
 ception ;  in  producing  the  same  results  by  instru- 
 ments of  the  most  boundless  variety. 
 
 Constantine  in  Rome  does  the  work  of  Moses 
 in  Egypt.  Nothing  can  be  more  different  than  the 
 two  characters.  The  young,  bold,  vivid,  and  prac- 
 tised warrior  stands  on  one  side ;  the  ancient, 
 mild,  reluctant,  and  unwarlike  shepherd  on  the 
 other.  But,  above  them  both,  and  enrobing  both 
 for  their  mission  in  the  same  descended  flame 
 from  heaven,  stands  a  Power,  to  which  strength 
 and  weakness  are  one ;  which  extracts  its  praise 
 from  the  lip  of  infancy,  as  from  the  lip  of  the  pro- 
 phet and  the  sage  ;  whose  oracles  are  uttered  as 
 deeply  in  "  the  still,  small  voice,"  as  in  the  thun- 
 ders. 
 
 Still,  dissimilar  as  Moses  and  Constantine  are 
 to  the  eye,  kindred  peculiarities  are  impressed  on 
 both,  which  guide  the  mind  to  their  unity  of  pur- 
 pose. 
 
 Moses  was  born  in  Egypt,  yet  among  the  tribes 
 of  Israel;  and  of  parentage  in  a  state  of  obscurity, 
 yet  of  the  race  of  Levi,  one  of  the  "princes  of 
 Israel."  In  infancy  he  was  taken  from  his  mo- 
 ther, and  adopted  as  the  son  of  the  Egyptian 
 princess.     He  thenceforth  remained  separate  from 
 
572  CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 his  family,  and  at  the  court  of  Egypt.  He  there 
 became  distinguished  as  a  warrior  and  a  states- 
 man ;  "he  was  mighty  in  words  and  deeds." 
 But,  in  the  midst  of  national  favour,  he  suddenly 
 abandoned  the  court  to  return  to  his  tribe ;  a  re- 
 turn which  ended  in  his  withdrawing  into  the 
 wilderness.  There  he  received  the  support  and 
 alliance  of  Jethro,  a  native  chief.  He  finally 
 offered  himself  as  a  leader  to  his  people,  and 
 required  that  they  should  acknowledge  his  autho- 
 rity. Having  been  thus  appointed  their  represen- 
 tative, he  demanded  of  Pharaoh  that  they  should 
 be  suffered  to  go,  with  him  at  their  head,  in  free- 
 dom into  the  wilderness.  The  demand  was  met 
 with  scorn  and  indignation.  Yet  on  its  repetition, 
 the  king,  in  fear,  suffered  him  to  approach,  as 
 the  representative  of  the  Israelites,  but  altogether 
 rejected  the  idea  of  their  independence.  Previ- 
 ously to  this  period,  his  brother  Aaron,  who  inhe- 
 rited the  superiority  by  birth,  was  formally  made 
 subordinate  to  him.  The  independence  of  the 
 people  was  at  last  obtained.  Moses  at  their  head 
 marched  for  the  wilderness,  with  the  pillar  of 
 flame  before  him  as  his  guide,  and  the  promise  of 
 Divine  protection.  But  the  Egyptians  violated 
 their  compact,  followed,  and  were  destroyed  with- 
 in sight  of  the  shore  where  the  Israelites  first  esta- 
 blished their  polity  and  religion.  Moses  led  them 
 to  the  borders  of  Canaan  ;  but  the  concpiest  was 
 achieved  by  Joshua. 
 
CHRISTENDOM.  573 
 
 The  chief  features  of  Constantine's  career  ob- 
 serve a  close  and  unequivocal  correspondence  with 
 those  of  the  Jewish  leader.  Constantius,  the 
 father  of  Constantine,  was  the  son  of  a  chief  noble 
 of  Dardania,  and  of  the  niece  of  the  emperor 
 Claudius ;  but  at  the  time  of  his  son's  birth  he  was 
 undistinguished  by  title,  and  his  wife  Helena  was 
 the  daughter  of  an  innkeeper  \  Constantine  was 
 born  probably  in  Dacia  ^  While  still  in  boyhood 
 he  was  separated  from  his  mother,  Constantius 
 having  been  appointed  one  of  the  Caesars,  and  on 
 that  occasion  having  been  compelled  to  divorce  his 
 wife,  and  receive  the  hand  of  the  emperor's  daugh- 
 ter. Constantine  was  thus  made  the  son  of  the 
 princess.  Constantius  was  now  appointed  gover- 
 nor of  the  West,  but  ''  his  son,  instead  of  follow- 
 ing him,  remained  in  the  service  of  the  emperor 
 Dioclesian,  signalized  his  valour  in  the  wars  of 
 Egypt  and  Persia,  and  gradually  rose  to  the  ho- 
 
 '  Gibbon,  vol.  ii.  The  succeeding  quotations  in  the  text  are 
 from  his  sketch  of  Constantine. 
 
 ^  The  question  has  been  the  source  of  some  dispute.  The 
 British  antiquarians  are  strenuous  for  the  birth  of  Constantine  in 
 this  country,  quoting  the  words  "  Britannias  illic  oriendo  nobiles 
 fecisti."  This,  however.  Gibbon  thinks,  is  equally  applicable  to 
 his  accession.  His  opinion  is,  that  Constantine  was  bom  in 
 Dacia;  on  the  authority  of  an  "  anonymous  writer,"  and  of 
 Firmicius,  "  the  integrity  of  whose  text,"  and  even  "  the  appli- 
 cation of  whose  words"  are  denied.  Those  seem  feeble  grounds, 
 yet  they  are  stronger  than  conjecture. 
 
574  CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 nourable  station  of  a  tribune  of  the  first  order'. 
 He  was  intrepid  in  war,  affable  in  peace,  and  he 
 appeared  cold  to  the  allurements  of  pleasure." 
 Constantino  was  at  length  forced  to  leave  the 
 court,  and  he  returned  to  his  kindred.  "  The 
 favour  of  the  people  and  soldiers,  who  had  named 
 him  as  a  worthy  candidate  for  the  rank  of  Csesar, 
 had  served  only  to  exasperate  the  wrath  of  Gale- 
 rius,"  the  joint  emperor  with  Dioclesian.  Con- 
 stantino found  his  father  and  family  in  Gaul, 
 but  went  with  them  still  further  west,  into  Bri- 
 tain^, where  he  remained  until  the  death  of  Con- 
 stantius,  and  where  the  event  occurred  of  his 
 being  "reinforced  by  a  numerous  body  of  barba- 
 rian troops,  Alemanni,  under  the  command  of  one 
 of  their  hereditary  chieftains.''''  "  This  was  re- 
 markable," the  historian  observes,  "  as  being 
 perhaps  the  first  instance  of  a  barbarian  king  who 
 assisted   the   Roman   arms   with   an   independent 
 
 '  The  Tribune  was  the  Commandant  of  the  Legion.  The 
 Legion,  in  the  time  of  Trajan,  was  about  5,500  men,  an  "  army 
 corps"  of  infantry,  cavalry,  and  military  engines,  the  ancient 
 artillery.  The  rank  of  tribune  of  the  first  order  might  be 
 equivalent  to  that  of  the  modern  "  General  of  Division." 
 
 ^  Britain  was  regarded  as  the  remotest  point  of  the  world, 
 "  toto  divisos  orbe  Britannos."  It  was  at  this  time  literally 
 beyond  the  verge  of  the  empire,  it  having  been  seized  by  Carau- 
 sius,  who  had  for  several  years  established  himself  as  king  of 
 the  island.  It  was  reduced  by  Constantius  and  his  son.  To 
 the  Romans  it  was  the  wilderness,  in  every  sense  of  the  word. 
 
CHRISTENDOM.  575 
 
 body  of  his  own  subjects."  On  the  death  of  his 
 father,  Constantine  refused  "  to  show  himself  to 
 the  troops  until  they  were  prepared  to  salute  him 
 with  the  names  of  Augustus  and  Emperor." 
 
 Having  thus  substantiated  his  right  to  be  at  the 
 head  of  his  father's  government,  Constantine 
 announced  his  elevation,  remotely  and  by  letter, 
 in  the  first  instance,  to  the  emperor,  and  required 
 his  acknowledgment  of  the  claim.  The  claim 
 was  treated  with  indignation  :  *'  The  first  emotions 
 of  Galerius  were  those  of  surprise,  disappoint- 
 ment, and  rage ;  and  he  loudly  threatened  that 
 he  would  commit  to  the  flames  both  the  letter  and 
 the  messenger."  But  his  rage  subsequently  gave 
 way  to  his  fear  ;  and  "  when  he  had  weighed  the 
 character  and  strength  of  his  adversary,  he  ac- 
 cepted him  as  the  sovereign  of  the  countries 
 beyond  the  Alps,  but  he  gave  him  only  the  title 
 of  Caesar,  and  the  fourth  rank  among  the  Roman 
 princes."  The  children  of  his  father's  imperial 
 marriage  were  entitled  "  to  have  a  preference 
 over  the  meaner  extraction  of  the  son  of  Helena.'" 
 But  Constantine  was  formally  appointed  to  the 
 eldership  ;  "  his  superior  merit  had  been  allowed, 
 and  ratified  by  the  dying  emperor."  In  his  last 
 moments,  Constantius  "  had  conjured  him  to 
 assume  both  the  authority  and  the  sentiments  of 
 a  father  with  regard  to  the  children  of  Theodora.' 
 Galerius,  tortured,  like  Pharaoh,  with  insects  and 
 ulcers,  finally  ordered  the  persecution  of  the  Christ- 
 
57G  CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 ians  to  cease  throughout  the  empire  ;  and  even  im- 
 plored their  prayers;  like  Pharaoh,  in  the  terrors  of 
 the  final  plague,  beseeching  a  blessing  from  Israel. 
 This  epoch  too  was  signalized  by  a  sudden  and 
 heavy  demand  on  the  wealth  of  Paganism;  not,  it  is 
 true,  by  Constantine,  but  by  Maxentius  ;  yet  the 
 effect,  as  a  penalty  on  the  persecutors,  was  the 
 same.  The  independence  of  Constantine  and  the 
 West  had  been  established ;  Constantine  and 
 Licinius  holding  the  greater  part  of  Europe ; 
 Maximin  and  Maxentius,  holding  Asia,  Africa, 
 and  Italy.  Maxentius  suddenly  gave  an  example 
 of  confiscation  on  the  largest  scale.  He  covered 
 the  Roman  provinces  of  Africa  with  informers, 
 charged  the  rich  and  noble  with  conspirac}^,  and 
 robbed  them  of  their  estates.  "  The  wealth  of 
 Rome  supplied  an  inexhaustible  fund  for  his  vain 
 and  prodigal  expences ;  and  it  was  under  his 
 reign  that  the  method  of  exacting  a  free  gift  from 
 the  senators  was  first  invented  :  and  as  the  sum 
 was  insensibly  increased,  the  pretences  of  levying 
 it  were  proportion  ably  multiplied  \" 
 
 But  the  final  blow  was  still  to  be  given.     The 
 
 *  Gibbon  quotes  the  "  Panegyrics,"  for  the  public  opinion  of 
 this  enormous  extraction  of  the  old  spoils  of  Rome.  "  The 
 riches  which  Rome  had  accumulated  in  a  period  of  1060  years, 
 were  lavished  by  the  tyrant  on  his  mercenary  bands."  It  is 
 pronounced  a  "  civile  latrocinium."  Whatever  the  instruments 
 were,  the  refunding  was  well  due  from  the  plunderers  of  the 
 world. 
 
CHRISTENDOM,  577 
 
 Emperor  Maxentius  had  soon  begun  to  break  the 
 compact  by  which  the  government  of  Constantino 
 was  declared  independent.  He  gathered  the  forces 
 of  his  empire,  and  prepared  to  overwhelm  him. 
 Constantino  attempted  to  negociate,  but  was  rapid- 
 ly forced  to  hostilities.  The  difficulty  of  the  time 
 was  appalling;  but  he  marched  with  an  unabated 
 spirit.  In  this  march,  which  must  decide  his  fate, 
 he  was,  like  Moses,  led  to  victory  by  the  "  Ce- 
 lestial Sign."  The  pillar  of  light,  which  guided 
 the  Israelites  through  their  dangers,  was  visible  in 
 front  of  the  host  of  Constantine.  The  Sign  of  the 
 "  Angel  Jehovah,"  w^liich  led  the  chosen  people, 
 had  changed  neither  its  nature  nor  its  purposes, 
 when  it  shone  as  the  Sign  of  the  Soji  of  Man,  at 
 the  head  of  the  army  of  Christianity.  In  that  Sign 
 he  conquered  ;  and  a  single  day  of  battle  made 
 him  master  of  the  capital  of  the  Pagan  world.  But 
 another  blow  was  to  be  struck.  Licinius,  a  power- 
 ful and  daring  adversary,  still  divided  the  empire. 
 Constantine,  with  the  Labarum,  the  representative 
 of  the  Divine  standard,  borne  at  the  head  of  his 
 troops ;  fought,  and  totally  extinguished  his  im- 
 mense army.  The  war  was  closed  by  the  total 
 defeat  of  the  last  host  of  Paganism  on  the 
 heights  of  Chrysopolis  \  on  the  Asiatic  side  of 
 the  Hellespont; — on  those  waters  which  divide 
 the   East   and  West,    and   within    sight  of  that 
 
 '  Now  Scutari. 
 
 ^  V 
 
578  CHRISTENDOM. 
 
 spot  where  the  first  Christian  city  was  raised  ; 
 the  first  spot  where  Christianity,  free  and  tri- 
 umphant by  the  Divine  guidance,  set  her  foot 
 upon  firm  ground. 
 
 The  triumph  was  begun  ;  but  Canaan  was  not 
 yet  conquered ;  Paganism  was  still  the  religion 
 of  the  empire.  Constantine  was  empowered  alone 
 to  establish  the  general  frame  and  authority  of  the 
 faith ;  he  built  his  goodly  city,  but  it  was  still 
 in  the  wilderness  ;  Constantinople  was  Christian ; 
 but  the  mighty  strength  of  Rome  was  Pagan.  The 
 possession  of  the  Christian  Palestine  was  to  be 
 achieved  only  by  a  future  conqueror.  Theodosius 
 was  the  Joshua  who  overthrew  Paofanism.  The 
 homage  of  their  day  united  both  conquerors  in 
 the  name  of  "  Great."  And  if  it  was  ever  earned 
 by  man,  it  was  earned  by  the  first  champion 
 of  Christianity,  and  the  final  subverter  of  Pa- 
 aranism. 
 
CHAPTER    XLVII. 
 
 BABYLON. 
 
 The  unexpected  length  to  which  this  volume  has 
 already  extended,  must  preclude  more  than  a 
 glance  at  the  vast  and  important  period  since 
 the  days  of  Constantine ;  leaving  it  for  other 
 occasions,  to  trace  the  full  and  exact  affinity  of 
 the  fortunes  of  the  Israelites  in  the  wilderness 
 with  those  of  the  primitive  Church ;  and  of  the 
 Philistine  wars  with  the  long  conflicts  of  civiliza- 
 tion and  barbarism,  which  followed  the  fall  of 
 the  Western  Empire.  The  only  points  which  can 
 now  be  touched,  and  scarcely  more  than  touched, 
 are  the  Captivity,  the  Restoration,  and  the  reign  of 
 Alexander ;  severally  holding  the  same  positions, 
 effecting  the  same  purposes,  and  exhibiting  the 
 same  circumstances,  which  characterise  the  Papal 
 supremacy,  the  Reformation,  and  the  reign  of 
 Napoleon,  the  close  of  the  long  career  of  Papal 
 persecution. 
 
 The  Emperor  Justinian  by  his  arms  had  reco- 
 vered   the    patrimony  of  the    Church    from    the 
 
 p  p  2 
 
580  BABYLON. 
 
 barbarians.  The  West  and  East  were  reunited 
 under  one  sovereign.  By  his  celebrated  edict, 
 (a.  d.  533.)  he  had  also  placed  the  universal 
 Church  under  one  head.  Having  thus  effected,  in 
 all  external  circumstances,  the  two-fold  purpose  for 
 which  David  had  fought  and  Solomon  legislated, 
 he  concluded  a  long,  active,  and  singularly- 
 mingled  career.  Beginning  in  obscurity,  and 
 rising  into  distinction  by  public  services  ;  per- 
 plexed with  war,  yet  constantly  advancing  in  the 
 magnitude  of  his  successes  ;  still  more  perplexed 
 with  religious  debate,  yet  constantly  advancing 
 to  the  general  establishment  of  his  religious  ob- 
 jects ;  beginning  with  orthodoxy,  sinking  in  his 
 latter  days  into  heresy  ;  signalizing  his  early  zeal 
 by  activity  against  Arianism,  degrading  his  ma- 
 ture wisdom  by  homage  to  the  Virgin  and  St. 
 Michael ;  he  died  ;  at  once  leaving  in  his  life 
 the  melancholy  example  of  hiiman  weakness ; 
 and  in  his  famous  Code,  the  principles  of  a  legis- 
 lation which  has  been  long  extolled,  as  one  of 
 the  most  solid  monuments  of  human  wisdom. 
 But  if,  like  Solomon,  he  stained  his  sceptre  by 
 heresy,  like  him  he  left  it  to  be  broken  by  re- 
 bellion. At  the  death  of  Solomon,  the  Jewish 
 nation  still  formed  one  sovereignty.  But  idols 
 had  been  tolerated  by  his  example ;  and  they 
 gradually  became  the  objects  of  popular  homage. 
 Jeroboam  revolted  at  the  head  of  the  ten  tribes; 
 and  the  sovereignty  was  divided  for  ever.     His 
 
BABYLON.  581 
 
 first  act  was  to  erect  two  chief  idols  as  substitutes 
 for  the  worship  of  Jerusalem.  He  was  pronounced 
 thenceforth  the  "man  who  made  Israel  to  sin." 
 A  war  of  unexampled  slaughter  followed  ;  but  the 
 idolatrous  kingdom  stood,  until  it  was  finally  given 
 into  the  hands  of  Babylon,  b.  c.  721. — From  that 
 captivity  it  never  returned. 
 
 The  kingdom  of  Judali  resisted  longer.  It 
 sometimes  destroyed  the  images,  sometimes  re- 
 lapsed into  their  worship.  At  length  it  was 
 punished  by  an  army  of  the  tribes  of  the  desert, 
 Syrians,  Moabites,  Ammonites,  and  Chaldeans. 
 A  further  punishment  fell  upon  it  in  the  storm 
 of  Jerusalem  (b.  c.  528.)  It  was  then  carried 
 wholly  into  captivity. 
 
 The  veneration  of  saints  and  martyrs  had  me- 
 naced the  Church  at  an  early  period.  It  was 
 sometimes  vigorously  denounced  ;  but,  from  the 
 death  of  Justinian,  it  had  rapidly  returned. — 
 Gregory  the  Second,  Bishop  of  Rome,  revolted 
 from  the  Greek  emperor  on  the  ground  of  an 
 imperial  command  forbidding  image  worship ; 
 The  Pope  declared  that  "  Rome  revered  as  a  God 
 on  earth  the  image  of  Peter."  The  relics  of  St. 
 Peter  and  St.  Paul  became  the  two-fold  chief  ob- 
 jects of  veneration.  A  war  of  great  bloodshed 
 followed,  in  which  the  emperor  was  forced  to  re- 
 linquish his  authority  over  Rome.  Charlemagne 
 (a.  D.  800)  gave  the  Popedom  its  final  supremacy. 
 From  that  epoch  the  dark  ages  began  in  Europe ; 
 
682  BABYLON. 
 
 the  power  of  excommunication  extinguished  all 
 spiritual  liberty  ;  the  Scriptures  were  unknown. 
 The  Western  Church  was  in  the  dungeons  of  the 
 captivity.  From  that  captivity,  Rome  has  never 
 returned.  She  still  retains  images  on  her  altar, 
 still  exercises  spiritual  despotism,  and  still  refuses 
 the  Scriptures  to  the  people. 
 
 The  history  of  the  Eastern  Church  forms  a 
 striking  contrast  to  the  precipitate  criminality  of 
 the  Western  ;  and  follows,  with  not  less  exacti- 
 tude, the  career  of  Judah.  The  emperor,  Leo  III. 
 had  attempted  to  purify  the  universal  Church  of 
 image  worship  :  the  result  was  the  rebellion  of 
 Rome.  He  then  determined  to  exonerate  at  least 
 the  Eastern  Church  of  the  charge,  by  convening 
 the  seventh  General  Council,  at  Constantinople, 
 A.  D.  754.  In  this  Council,  three  hundred  and 
 fifty-eight  Bishops  pronounced,  that  "all  bowing 
 down  to  images  was  heretical."  Yet,  thirty  years 
 after,  the  empress  Irene,  an  image  worshipper, 
 summoned  the  Second  Council  of  Nice.  This 
 Council  pronounced,  "  That  the  worship  of  ima- 
 ges is  agreeable  to  Scripture  and  reason:" — the 
 only  matter  of  doubt  being,  whether  the  Godhead 
 and  the  statue  of  Christ  were  entitled  to  precisely 
 the  same  homage,  (a.  d.  787.) 
 
 For  thirty-eight  years  the  struggle  was  carried 
 on.  Nicephorus  allowed  liberty  of  choice  to  the 
 worshipper  ;  Michael  was  an  image  worshipper ; 
 Leo    the    Fifth    expelled   the    images    and    their 
 
BABYLON.  583 
 
 worshippers;  his  successor  Michael  was  hostile 
 to  image  worship  ;  Theophilus,  his  son,  was  reso 
 lute  in  its  destruction.  Let  the  reader  of  this 
 portion  of  Eastern  history  compare  those  fluctu- 
 ations with  the  alternate  virtues  and  idolatries  of 
 the  kings  of  Judah.  The  hand  of  a  woman,  the 
 empress  Theodora,  at  length  achieved  the  ruin,  by 
 establishing  image  worship  as  the  law  of  the  East- 
 ern empire,  a.d.  842.  The  decree  of  the  Second 
 Council  of  Nice  was  accepted  by  Pope  Adrian  as 
 one  of  the  General  Councils ;  and  the  Greek 
 Church  was  pronounced  to  have  arrived  at  the 
 faith  of  the  Roman.  Judah  was  now  in  the  cap- 
 tivity, which  had  already  engulphed  Israel.  The 
 universal  Church  was  in  Babylon,  and  image 
 worship  was  the  universal  chain. 
 
 But  a  Divine  promise  had  been  given  that  Ju- 
 dah should  return.  While  the  West  remained  in- 
 sensible, a  small  body  of  individuals  became  per- 
 secuted in  the  East  for  combining  the  adoption 
 of  the  Scriptures  as  their  sole  guide,  with  the 
 most  resolute  refusal  to  bow  down  to  imas^es. 
 Their  chief  residence  was  in  the  country  border- 
 ing the  Euphrates ;  as  if  the  real  Babylon  were 
 to  point  out  the  spiritual. 
 
 About  the  middle  of  the  eighth  century,  the 
 Emperor  Constantine,  who  was  hostile  to  the 
 worship  of  images,  transplanted  many  of  those 
 Christians  to  Constantinople.  From  the  capital 
 their  doctrines  passed  into  Europe. — Those  were 
 
584  BABYLON. 
 
 the  Paulicians,  the  original  reformers,  the  small 
 returned  remnant  of  Judah.  The  majority  of  the 
 empire  remained  in  spiritual  captivity,  as  the 
 majority  of  Judah  had  remained  in  Babylonia. 
 The  remnant  came  forth,  by  the  imperial  com- 
 mand, to  rebuild  the  temple  of  the  faith,  and  re- 
 store the  walls  of  their  spiritual  Jerusalem.  Under 
 the  various  names  of  Bulgarians,  Cathari,  Wal- 
 denses,  and  Albigenses,  those  exiles,  thus  returned 
 from  the  captivity,  were  the  first  founders  of 
 Protestantism. 
 
CHAPTER   XLVIII. 
 
 THE  REFORMATION. 
 
 The  history  of  the  returned  exiles  of  Judah,  is  the 
 counterpart  of  the  history  of  the  German  Refor- 
 mation ;  even  to  the  particularity  of  individual 
 characters.  Of  those,  but  two  can  be  mentioned 
 here — Ezra  and  Nehemiah.  Luther  was  the  re- 
 presentative of  Ezra ;  the  Elector  of  Saxony  of 
 Nehemiah. 
 
 Ezra  was  a  priest — dwelling  in  the  captivity — 
 distinguished  for  his  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures. 
 — He  went  forth  to  instruct  his  returned  brethren 
 in  the  Law. — He  found  them  much  debased  by- 
 heathen  intercourse,  and  urged  them  to  break 
 off  the  connexion. — He  proceeded  to  restore  the 
 religious  polity  of  the  nation,  and  received  the  aid 
 of  the  elders. — At  length  Nehemiah,  a  Jew,  one 
 of  the  great  officers  of  the  empire,  moved  by  com- 
 passion for  his  people,  went  forth  for  the  especial 
 purpose  of  fixing  the  civil  polity  of  the  nation  ;  of 
 raising  up  her  "  walls  and  gates,"   and  of  putting 
 
586  THE    REFORMATION. 
 
 Jerusalem  in  a  condition  to  withstand  her  ene- 
 mies.— On  Nehemiah's  assuming  the  government, 
 Ezra  retired,  and  devoted  himself  solely  to  re- 
 ligious exertion. — He  then,  in  Nehemiah's  pre- 
 sence, read  the  Scriptures  to  the  people  from  the 
 pulpit,  followed  by  others,  interpreting  them  into 
 the  popular  tongue. — Under  the  protection  of 
 Nehemiah,  he  continued,  though  with  many  ob- 
 structions, to  teach  the  Scriptures,  until  he  died, 
 highly  honoured  by  the  people. 
 
 The  features  of  Luther's  history  are  decisive  of 
 his  representative  character.  Luther  was  of  the 
 Romish  communion,  and  an  Augustinian  monk. 
 He  was  so  far  distinguished  for  his  attainments 
 as  to  be  appointed  Professor  of  Divinity  in  Wit- 
 temberg.  Though  thus  beginning  in  "  the  cap- 
 tivity," he  came  forth  from  it,  with  the  avowed 
 determination  of  joining  the  Reformed,  and 
 preaching  the  Gospel ;  he  had  now  left  the  spiri- 
 tual Babylon,  and  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
 returned  exiles  of  Judah.  At  this  period  the 
 Reformation  was  singularly  decayed  ;  the  reform- 
 ers had  been  terrified  by  the  executions  of  Huss  and 
 others  ;  some  of  them  were  falling  into  unscrip- 
 tural  extravagances,  some  into  apathy ;  the  whole 
 required  a  new  and  rigorous  separation  from  the 
 natural  errors  of  ignorance  and  passion. — His 
 preaching  was  followed  by  an  immediate  change. 
 The  Reformation  flourished  with  renewed  vigour  ; 
 like  Ezra,  he  entered  on  his  commission,  followed 
 
THE    REFORMATION.  587 
 
 by  a  new  multitude  from  Babylon  ;  but  he  found 
 violent  opposition  from  authority,  and  was  ex- 
 posed to  struggles  that  threatened  to  ruin  the 
 Reformation.  The  Papal  Bulls  were  issued 
 against  him,  and  he  was  in  hazard  of  his  life ; 
 but  he  persevered  with  still  more  boldness,  and 
 finally  sealed  his  opinions,  in  a  work  published  in 
 the  year  1520,  entitled  '*  The  Babylonish  Cap- 
 tivity," and  in  which  he  pronounced  the  Popedom 
 to  be  the  embodying  of  the  predicted  corruptions 
 of  the  Church,  "  the  Antichrist"  of  the  New  Test- 
 ament, the  "  Man  of  Sin"  of  the  old. 
 
 But  when  he  was  on  the  point  of  ruin  through  this 
 bold  attack,  a  most  powerful  friend  of  the  Reform- 
 ation appeared,  in  the  person  of  the  Prince  of  the 
 country,  Frederic  the  Wise,  Elector  of  Saxony.  By 
 the  constitution  of  the  German  empire,  the  Elector 
 was  not  merely  a  sovereign,  but  one  of  the  Great 
 Officers  of  the  imperial  court.  Frederic  stood 
 beside  the  imperial  throne,  and  was  even  so  high 
 in  authority  and  estimation,  that,  on  the  death  of 
 the  Emperor  Maximilian,  the  succession  was 
 offered  to  him  by  the  unanimous  votes  of  the 
 princes  ^     Frederic  now   assumed  the  direction 
 
 '  Robertson's  Charles  V.  vol.  ii.  p.  56. 
 
 The  connexion  is  closer  still.  The  Reformation  under 
 Luther  had  made  some  progress  in  reforming  practical  abuses, 
 when  the  Emperor  Maximilian  died.  In  consequence  of  his 
 death,  Frederic  was  especially  appointed,  as  an  Officer  of  the 
 empire,  to  the  Vicariate  of  Saxony ;   in  other  words,  received 
 
 1 
 
588  THE    REFORMATION. 
 
 of  the  Reformed  ;  and  hurrying  away  Luther  from 
 his  dangers  by  a  friendly  seizure,  hid  him  in  one 
 of  his  castles.  Luther,  like  Ezra,  had  thus  retired 
 from  his  administration  of  the  Church,  on  the 
 appearance  of  the  new  Nehemiah,  the  Prince 
 commissioned  to  protect  its  existence.  Frederic 
 refused  to  persecute,  and  his  character  and  per- 
 sonal authority  gave  the  Reformed  Church  a  solid 
 foundation  among  the  German  states.  He  gave  it 
 literally  a  defence,  and  placed  it  in  a  position  of 
 power  and  security,  which,  though  strongly  as- 
 sailed by  the  whole  force  of  the  imperial  arms, 
 could  never  be  broken.  Luther  soon  re-appeared  ; 
 but  it  was,  armed  with  a  new  power,  almost  a 
 new  office.  From  the  commencement  of  his 
 career,  he  had  laboured  to  propagate  explanations 
 of  the  Scriptures ;  but  in  his  solitude  he  had  first 
 begun  a  general  translation  of  the  Bible.  This 
 was  the  labour  which  immortalizes  his  memory. 
 He  now  came  forward,  and,  under  the  protection 
 of  the  Elector,  delivered  his  translation  to  Ger- 
 many. The  new  Ezra,  in  the  presence  of  the  new 
 Nehemiah  of  a  time  of  religious  light  and  freedom. 
 
 a  commission  to  superintend,  in  his  character  of  imperial 
 delegate,  the  country  which  was  the  asylum  of  the  "  returned 
 exiles,"  the  Church  of  the  Reformed.  It  is  to  be  observed  also, 
 that  Luther,  from  this  period,  chiefly  abandoning  his  attack 
 of  the  practices,  devoted  himself  to  exposing  the  doctrines^  of 
 Rome. 
 
THE    REFORMATION.  589 
 
 interpreted  the    Law   and   the    Prophets    to    the 
 people. 
 
 This  was  the  great  ivork  of  the  Reformation,  the 
 point  from  which  the  old  high  road  of  superstition, 
 of  religious  slavery,  and  mental  darkness,  turned 
 one  way,  and  the  upward  path  of  life,  light,  and 
 religious  liberty,  the  other.  The  translation  of 
 the  Scriptures  from  the  forgotten  language  of 
 Rome  into  the  tongue  of  the  country,  was  received 
 at  once  with  grateful  homage,  solemn  contrition, 
 and  holy  triumph.  "  The  people  bowed  their  heads 
 and  worshipped."  The  people  wept  as  they  heard 
 the  words  of  the  law  ;  the  people  shouted  with 
 sacred  rejoicing ;  and  on  that  day  they  held  a  fes- 
 tival, and  exulted  that  they  once  more  heard  the 
 wisdom  of  their  fathers.  "  And  all  the  people  went 
 their  way,  to  eat  and  to  drink,  and  to  send  portions, 
 and  to  make  great  mirth,  because  they  understood 
 the  tvords  which  were  declaimed  unto  them\''  Luther 
 continued  to  publish  the  Scriptures,  until  he  and 
 his  assistants  had  completed,  like  Ezra,  the  sacred 
 volume.  Germany  was  now  filled  with  interpreters, 
 men  of  virtue  and  zeal,  who  contributed  their 
 scholarship  and  their  lives  to  the  diffusion  of  the 
 Scriptures  ;  and  before  he  died,  he  had  the  un- 
 speakable joy  of  seeing  his  spiritual  Jerusalem 
 established  in  a  security  and  dignity  which  nothing 
 in  human   power  can  shake,   and  which  can  be 
 
 *  Nehemiah  viii.  12. 
 
590  THE    REFORMATION. 
 
 undone  only  by  the  fatal  "  intermarriages  with 
 the  nations  who  are  not  of  Judah,"  submissions  to 
 objects  and  interests  hostile  to  the  spirit  of  the 
 Reformation. 
 
CHAPTER  XLIX. 
 
 NAPOLEON. 
 
 From  the  fall  of  the  Babylonian  empire  (about 
 B.C.  538.)  to  the  Asiatic  conquests  of  Alexander, 
 Jerusalem  was  in  the  hands  of  the  Persian  empe- 
 rors. It  is  with  regret  that  the  writer  feels  him- 
 self limited  to  a  mere  outline  of  the  extraordinary, 
 yet  exact  connection,  subsisting  at  this  interesting 
 period  between  the  Jewish  and  Christian  series. 
 Nor  must  the  reader  be  startled  at  the  novelty  of 
 discovering  the  Persian  empire  to  have  taken  its 
 place  in  the  providential  system,  as  the  prototype  of 
 Germany  ;  Greece  of  France  ;  and  the  founder  of 
 the  brilliant  and  brief  Macedonian  empire,  to  have 
 filled,  to  the  ancient  world,  the  characteristic 
 place  and  successes  of  the  founder  of  the  most 
 dazzling  and  short-lived  empire  of  modern  days. 
 
 The  Persian  empire,  under  Cyrus  and  his  suc- 
 cessors, had  rendered  itself  the  paramount  power 
 of  Asia,  had  rapidly  conquered  the  kingdoms 
 lying  between  the  Euphrates  and  the  Mediterra- 
 nean, and  finally  established  over  them  a  govern- 
 ment   of  great   satraps    or    viceroys.      In    about 
 
592  NAPOLEON. 
 
 a  century,  the  provinces  on  the  Mediterranean 
 gradually  assumed  independence ;  but,  at  the 
 time  of  the  Macedonian  invasion,  those  pro- 
 vinces had  been  once  more  brought  to  acknow- 
 ledge at  least  a  nominal  dependence,  and  all 
 joined  in  the  resistance  to  Macedon. — In  the 
 beginning  of  the  eleventh  century,  the  Ger- 
 man emperors  possessed  almost  uncontrolled 
 power,  giving  their  vassals  the  title  of  kings,  ap- 
 pointing to  all  dignities  of  the  Church,  erecting 
 free  cities,  and  calling  the  Diet,  or  grand  council 
 of  the  nation.  The  princes  of  the  empire  all  held 
 stations  as  Officers  of  the  imperial  household. 
 From  the  fifteenth  century  these  privileges  were 
 greatly  reduced,  and  the  emperors  were  little  more 
 than  nominal  heads,  except  of  their  hereditary 
 dominions.  But  at  the  commencement  of  the 
 French  revolutionary  war,  the  spirit  of  the  German 
 league  was  renewed,  and  all  its  princes  took  up 
 arms  in  the  common  cause  of  the  empire. 
 
 Among  the  early  exploits  of  the  Persian  em- 
 pire had  been  the  overthrow  of  the  Babylonian, 
 though  Babylon  was  still  left  as  an  imperial 
 city,  renowned  for  its  magnificence. — The  twelfth 
 and  thirteenth  centuries  were  the  zenith  of  Papal 
 superiority,  yet  at  that  period  Germany  gave  an 
 irrecoverable  blow  to  the  temporal  power  of  the 
 Popedom.  The  emperor  Henry  IV.  in  the  twelfth 
 century,  had  begun  the  quarrel,  on  the  right  of 
 investing  bishops,  the  first  effects  of  which  were  to 
 
 7 
 
NAPOLEON.  593 
 
 drive  the  reigning  Pope,  Gregory  VII.,  from 
 Rome  into  exile,  where  this  ambitious  Pontiff 
 died.  From  the  close  of  the  thirteenth  century 
 the  Papal  sovereignty  over  Europe  sank  with 
 surprising  rapidity,  and  was  almost  totally  de- 
 stroyed by  the  schism  of  Avignon.  It  gradually 
 recovered  a  portion  of  its  influence,  but  its  uncon- 
 trolled dominion,  the  empire  of  Innocent  and  Bo- 
 niface, was  at  an  end  for  ever. 
 
 Alexander  was  the  instrument  by  which  the 
 Macedonian  empire  was  to  punish  the  Persian,  as 
 the  Persian  had  punished  the  Babylonian.  Na- 
 poleon was  the  instrument  by  which  the  French 
 empire  was  to  break  down  the  German,  as  the 
 German  had  broken  down  the  sovereignty  of  the 
 spiritual  Babylon.  The  original  position  and  pro- 
 oress  of  both  are  almost  identical. — Alexander  was 
 born  in  an  obscure  corner  of  Europe,  which  had 
 hitherto  been  nearly  barbarous,  had  been  unknown 
 as  Greece,  and  was  actually  admitted  to  bear  the 
 name  but  a  short  time  before '.  Greece,  at  the 
 period  of  Alexander's  birth,  was  a  loose  system  of 
 discordant  republics.  It  had  just  come  out  of  a 
 violent  convulsion,  the  "  Sacred  War,"  occasion- 
 ed by  the  plunder  of  the  Temple  of  Delphi. 
 Athens  became  especially  the  victim  of  factious 
 
 '  Alexander,  the  seventh  king  of  Macedon,  was  not  suffered 
 even  to  contend  at  the  Olympic  games,  until  he  had  furnished 
 proof  that  his  ancestors  were  Argive. 
 
 Qq 
 
594  NAPOLEON. 
 
 orators  and  generals,  and  was,  like  all  Greece, 
 extravagantly  eager  for  war  at  that  moment'. 
 
 We  now  revert  to  the  Representative  furnished 
 by  our  own  age  to  the  mighty  Macedonian.  A 
 mere  juxta-position  is  all  that  can  be  given  here. 
 But  the  facts  are  familiar  to  the  world,  and  the 
 evidence  is  of  the  clearest  nature.  It  absolutely 
 cuts  off  every  subterfuge  of  scepticism. 
 
 Alexander  was  born  at  Pella  in  Macedon  ^ ;  the 
 native  of  a  small  and  sterile  territory,  looked  on 
 by  the  Greeks  as  a  half  savage  spot,  and  which 
 was  fully  brought  within  the  Greek  community 
 but  in  the  previous  generation.  The  education  of 
 Alexander  was  not  Macedonian,  but  eminently 
 Greek,  under  Aristotle. — Napoleon  was  born  in 
 Corsica  ^  This  island  was  the  Macedon  of  the 
 south,  a  little  wild  spot,  chiefly  remarkable  for  its 
 family  feuds,  and  scarcely  regarded  as  European, 
 until  its  conquest  by  France,  a  few  years   before 
 
 '  "The  orators"  says  Mitford,  vol,  vii.  "found  their  principal 
 source  of  gain  in  war.  No  officer  could  hold  foreign  command 
 without  an  orator,  ready  on  all  occasions  to  undertake  his  de- 
 fence. To  increase  the  foreign  dependencies  of  Athens,  to 
 have  disturbances  arise  in  those  dependencies,  to  have  complaints 
 to  the  courts  of  Athens,  whether  from  foreign  republics  against 
 each  other,  or  against  Athenian  officers,  all  tended  to  the  ad- 
 vantage of  the  orators."  Are  we  here  reading  the  history  of 
 France  or  Greece,  or  are  we  not  rather  reading  the  history  of  all 
 democracy,  the  pretence  and  the  profligacy  alike  in  all  ? 
 
 *  B.  C.  356. 
 
 '  ir>th  of  August,  1769. 
 
NAPOLEON.  595 
 
 his  birth.     He  was  educated  at  the  royal  military 
 school  of  Brienne,  in  France. 
 
 The  Sacred  War,  commencing  in  the  plunder 
 of  the  great  national  temple  of  Delphi  \  by  the 
 Phocians,  its  guardians,  who  expended  the  plunder 
 in  levying  troops,  had  thrown  all  Greece  into  con- 
 vulsion. Greece  became  a  system  of  confede- 
 rated republics,  with  Philip  holding  the  chief  go- 
 vernorship. Philip  was  soon  assassinated,  to  the 
 great  exultation  of  the  republicans.  The  tumults  of 
 Greece  again  broke  out  immediately  ;  the  confede- 
 ration instituted  under  Philip  was  at  an  end ;  the 
 orators  became  the  governors  and  disturbers  of 
 Greece.  Speedily  came  bloody  retribution.  A 
 war  of  two  years,  in  which  Alexander  first  repel- 
 led the  foreign  enemies  of  his  father,  and  then 
 brought  the  Greeks  to  submission,  exterminating 
 the  Thebans,  (the  original  cause  of  the  plunder 
 of  Delphi,)  made  him,  at  twenty-two,  captain 
 general  of  Greece  for  the  invasion  of  Persia. — 
 The  plunder  of  the  Church  establishment  of 
 France  was  the  first  act  of  the  revolution,  as  it  was 
 probably  among  its  chief  incentives.  From  this 
 ensued  a  general  convulsion  of  society.  The 
 "orators"  became  the  virtual  government.  But 
 the  general  state  still  formed  the  semblance  of  a 
 
 '  Diodorus  says  that  the  plunder  of  the  shrine  amounted  to 
 the  enormous  sum  of  10,000  talents  (about  two  millions  and  a 
 quarter  sterling).  It  was  speedily  dissipated  in  war.  (Diod. 
 xvi.  76.) 
 
 Qq2 
 
596  NAPOLEON. 
 
 monarchy,  a  federation  of  republics  under  a  royal 
 head.  The  king  of  this  federation  was  suddenly 
 put  to  death  \  A  burst  of  almost  universal  war 
 instantly  followed  ;  war  with  England  in  the  same 
 year  ;  insurrection  at  Lyons  and  Toulon  ;  and  the 
 reign  of  terror.  In  the  same  year  Napoleon  first 
 became  known,  by  the  siege  of  Toulon.  Having  re- 
 pelled the  foreign  enemy,  he  was  called  to  service 
 in  the  interior,  and  was  made  commandant  of  the 
 army  of  the  government  ^.  An  attack  upon  the  Ger- 
 man emperor,  through  Italy,  was  next  determined 
 on  ;  the  government  gave  this  great  enterprize 
 into  his  hands,  and  by  the  battle  of  Monte  Notte, 
 he  commenced  a  career  of  victory,  which  from  that 
 moment  made  him  the  first  general  of  France. 
 No  man  had  ever  commenced  life  with  the  public 
 hope  more  powerfully  concentred  upon  him.  "Ad- 
 vance that  man,"  said  Barras  to  the  government, 
 "  or  he  will  advance  himself  without  you."  Na- 
 poleon had  the  same  vivid  and  justified  confidence. 
 On  his  appointment,  "  In  three  months,"  said  he, 
 "  I  shall  be  either  at  Milan  or  Paris."  One  of 
 the  ministers  objected  to  his  youth.  "  In  a  year," 
 loftily  pronounced  Napoleon,  "  I  shall  be  either 
 an  old  general,  or  dead."  It  was  about  two  years 
 and  a  half  from  the  siege  of  Toulon  to  the  battle 
 of  Monte  Notte  ^     His  age  was  six  and  twenty. 
 
 '  Jan.  21,  1703.  '  4  th  of  October,  WJo. 
 
 '  April  10,  1796. 
 
NAPOLEON.  597 
 
 Alexander,  with  a  force  of  34,500  men,  inva- 
 ded Asia  Minor,  overran  it  in  two  campaigns,  and 
 compelled  the  Persian  king  to  treat  of  peace.  The 
 treaty  was  rejected,  but  the  war  in  Asia  ceased, 
 and  the  thoughts  of  Alexander  were  turned  to  a 
 totally  different  quarter.  He  now  projected  the 
 mastery  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  for  that  pur- 
 pose determined  on  the  conquest  of  Tyre  and 
 Egypt.  To  conquer  Tyre  without  a  fleet  was 
 hopeless.  He  applied  himself  to  collect  a  fleet  of 
 220  sail,  assaulted  Tyre,  and  took  it  by  storm. 
 Egypt  fell  into  his  hands  immediately  after,  almost 
 without  a  blow, — From  the  time  when  Napo- 
 leon fought  his  first  battle,  in  two  campaigns  he 
 overran  Italy,  and  forced  the  German  emperor 
 to  send  Cobenzel  to  treat  of  peace.  In  the  inter- 
 view. Napoleon  conspicuously  exhibited  the  high 
 conceptions  which  he  had  formed  of  his  destiny. 
 The  German  ambassador  had  set  down,  as  the 
 first  article,  the  recognition  of  the  French  repub- 
 lic. "  Efl'ace  that,"  said  Napoleon  proudly,  "it 
 is  as  clear  as  the  sun  in  heaven."  At  the  Te 
 Deum  on  the  celebration  of  peace,  the  Austrian 
 would  have  taken  precedence.  Napoleon  forced 
 him  back.  "  Had  your  emperor  himself  been 
 here,"  was  his  expression,  "  I  should  not  have 
 forgotten  that  in  my  person  the  dignity  of  France 
 is  represented '."     He  seems  to   be   echoing  the 
 
 '  Treaty  of  Campo  Formio,  3d  of  October,  1797. 
 
598  NAPOLEON. 
 
 fiery  words  of  Alexander  to  the  Persian  monarch. 
 "  Henceforth,  if  you  have  any  communication  to 
 make,  address  me  as  the  King  of  Asia.  Pretend 
 not  to  treat  with  me  on  equal  terms  ;  but  petition 
 me  as  the  master  of  your  fate.  If  you  propose  to 
 dispute  the  sovereignty  with  me,  stand  your 
 ground  ;  I  shall  march  and  attack  you  wherever 
 you  are."  The  same  spirit  spoke  in  both,  and  in 
 both  was  oracular.  To  retrieve  the  loss  of  the 
 French  colonies,  and  find  a  substitute  for  them  in 
 the  Mediterranean,  Napoleon  next  collected  the 
 fleet  of  France,  and  sailed  for  Alexandria,  the  city 
 which  had  since  the  days  of  its  founder  been  the 
 substitute  for  Tyre.  He  entered  Alexandria  by 
 storm,  slaughtering  its  troops  and  people  with  un- 
 necessary, and  even  ostentatious,  cruelty.  Egypt 
 surrendered  to  him  almost  without  another  blow. 
 
 On  Alexander's  landing  in  Egypt,  an  extra- 
 ordinary circumstance  occurred.  The  Greek  was 
 the  worshipper  of  a  mythology  totally  different 
 from  that  of  Egypt.  He  had  his  idols,  beautiful 
 and  noble  works  of  art,  imaginary  as  they  were, 
 yet  always  the  representatives  of  beings  above 
 man,  half-celestial  nymphs,  or  resemblances  of 
 heroes  transferred  to  immortality,  or  of  gods, 
 all,  in  some  degree,  dependent  on  a  supreme 
 Jove  :  but  no  Greek  stooped  to  the  worship  of 
 a  creature  of  the  inferior  races,  a  brute  beast, 
 insect,  or  plant  of  the  ground.  To  the  astonish- 
 ment of  history,    and  we    may   fully   believe,   to 
 
 7 
 
NAPOLEON.  599 
 
 the  astonishment,  if  not  to  the  scorn,  of  the  time, 
 one  of  Alexander's  earliest  declarations  was,  his 
 homage  to  the  lowest  shape  of  religious  debase- 
 ment, the  worship  of  the  bull  Apis.  "  He  him- 
 self,^' as  the  historian  states,  "  assisted  in  the 
 ceremony;  and,  not  to  leave  the  effect  nega- 
 tive, he  sent  to  Greece  for  the  persons  most  emi- 
 nent as  public  performers  in  all  the  amusements 
 of  the  theatre'."  All  was  open  acknowledgment 
 and  formal  adoption ;  the  brute  worship  was 
 solemnly  recognised  in  its  native  ceremonial  and 
 festivities. — Napoleon's  first  act,  on  taking  pos- 
 session of  Egypt,  was  to  publish,  in  a  procla- 
 mation to  his  troops  :  "  The  people  with  whom 
 we  are  about  to  live  are  Mahometans.  The  first 
 article  of  their  faith  is,  There  is  no  God  but 
 God,  and  Mahomet  is  his  prophet.  Do  not  con- 
 tradict them  :  deal  with  them  as  you  have  done 
 with  the  Jews  and  Italians.''  After  thus  equal- 
 izino;  the  religion  of  the  Israelite  and  Roman 
 Catholic  with  the  Mahometan  in  general  con- 
 tempt ;  he  spoke  more  distinctly  to  the  Moslem. 
 "  I  come  to  restore  your  rights,  to  punish  the 
 usurpers ;  and  I  respect,  more  than  the  Mame- 
 lukes ever  did,  God,  his  Prophet,  and  the 
 Koran.  Sheiks  and  Imauns,  assure  the  people, 
 that  we  also  are  true  Mussulmans.  Is  it  not 
 we  that  have  ruined  the  Pope  V     The  historian 
 
 '  Mitford,  vol.  vii. 
 
600  NAPOLEON. 
 
 of  Alexander  accounts  for  his  adoption  of  the 
 degrading  and  abominahle  worship  of  Egypt 
 by  the  "  use  of  superstition,  for  honourable  and 
 salutary  purposes';"  as  if  any  purposes  so  at- 
 tained could  be  but  base  and  pernicious  :  and  for 
 the  ease  of  his  adoption,  by  his  being  a  philoso- 
 pher, after  the  manner  "  more  especially  of  Aris- 
 totle ;"  who  looked  upon  a  Deity  as  merel}'^  the 
 mainspring  of  the  physical  machine.  Napoleon 
 was  a  philosophe  and  fatalist ;  of  course  a  believer 
 in  the  mainspring,  and  nothing  more.  This 
 declaration  of  Mahometanism  in  Egypt  was 
 policy,  wretched  and  short-lived  as  such  policy 
 must  be.  But,  in  Europe  it  gave  the  first  blow 
 to  any  hope  of  good  that  might  have  fixed  itself 
 on  his  fortunes  ;  and  marked  him,  sooner  or  later, 
 for  condign  ruin. 
 
 In  Egypt,  Alexander  is  commemorated  as 
 having,  for  the  first  time,  exhibited  his  talents  as 
 an  administrator".  He  applied  himself  to  the 
 improvement  of  the  face  of  the  country,  gave  it 
 laws,  established  its  revenues,  and  laid  the  foun- 
 
 '  Mitford,  vol.  vii. 
 
 *  Mitford  observes,  "  Hitherto  we  have  seen  Alexander 
 displaying  the  most  ardent  courage,  consummate  prudence, 
 &c.  In  Egypt  we  Jirst  find  a  noble  feature  of  his  character 
 displayed.  He  would  know  the  country  which  he  had  so  ac- 
 quired, and  establish  suitable  regulations,"  &c.  Vol.  vii.  He 
 established  native  governors,  but  Macedonian  garrisons.  Na- 
 poleon, "  administratem,"  established  two  councils  of  Mollahs 
 and  proprietors. 
 
NAPOLEON.  6*01 
 
 dation  of  the  famous  city  that  still  bears  his  name, 
 resembling  Tyre  in  its  being  nearly  insular,  in  its 
 being  built  on  the  edge  of  the  Mediterranean,  and 
 being  the  emporium  of  all  the  opulent  commerce 
 of  the  South,  and  the  great  city  of  the  arts  in  its 
 day  ;  once  a  city  of  600,000  people. 
 
 A  circumstance  of  a  very  peculiar  nature  next 
 marked  both  expeditions.  If  the  principle  of  a 
 designed  coincidence  be  true,  we  have  no  right  to 
 consider  any  minuteness  of  circumstance  as  below 
 the  principle  ;  for  it  is  by  such  minutenesses  that 
 the  likeness  is  most  strongly  identified. 
 
 A  fantasy,  not  unsuited  to  his  exciteable  ima- 
 gination, had  urged  Alexander  to  visit  the  temple 
 of  Jupiter  Amnion,  and  consult  the  oracle.  The 
 Oasis  in  which  it  lay,  was  the  residence  of  a  body 
 of  the  learned  of  Egypt ;  and  the  temple  was  the 
 most  famous  in  the  land  for  immemorial  sanctity. 
 He  marched  with  a  portion  of  his  army  to  the 
 South  ;  the  march  was  attended  with  extreme  dif- 
 ficulties ;  water  failed  :  they  lost  their  way  in  the 
 sands  ;  but,  in  the  last  state  of  distress,  they  reach- 
 ed the  temple,  at  the  end  of  eleven  djiys.  There 
 they  were  abundantly  refreshed.  Alexander  re- 
 ceived the  answer  of  the  Oracle,  which,  according 
 to  the  Greek  traditions,  pronounced  that  he  was  a 
 true  descendant  of  Jupiter  ;  and  all  returned  in  tri- 
 umph, and  with  a  new  and  strong  popular  impres 
 sion  of  the  destined  supremacy  of  their  chieftain. — 
 Napoleon,  a  month  after  his  landing,  marched  to 
 
602  NAPOLEON. 
 
 discover  the  retreat  of  the  Mamelukes.  For  four- 
 teen clays  he  moved  along  the  bank  of  the  Nile,  at 
 the  head  of  a  large  detachment  of  his  army.  "The 
 miseries  of  this  progress  were  extreme.  The  air 
 was  crowded  with  pestiferous  insects;  water  was 
 scarce  and  bad  ;  the  country  had  been  swept  clear 
 of  man,  beast,  and  vegetable.  Under  this  torture, 
 the  gallant  spirits  of  such  men  as  Murat  and 
 Lannes  could  not  sustain  themselves.  They  trod 
 their  cockades  in  the  sand.  The  common  soldiers 
 asked,  with  angry  murmurs,  if  it  was  here  their 
 general  intended  to  give  them  their  seven  acres?" 
 (the  land  promised  to  the  settlers  ^)  In  this  dis- 
 tress they  toiled  on  from  the  7th  of  July  to  the 
 21st.  At  last  they  saw  the  squadrons  ;  but  tower- 
 ing above  them,  they  saw  one  of  the  most  exciting 
 and  solemn  sights  of  the  world — the  range  of  the 
 pyramids,  hoary  with  the  recollections  of  centu- 
 ries. And  this  was  the  impression  that  instantly 
 stamped  itself  upon  the  glowing  mind  of  Napo- 
 leon. The  Mamelukes  were  forgotten,  as  the  dust 
 at  the  feet  of  those  stupendous  monuments  of 
 nations  dead  and  gone.  Alexander  had  been 
 inflamed  to  visit  the  temples  of  Amnion,  by  the 
 tradition  that  they  had  been  visited  by  his  ances- 
 tors, Perseus,  in  his  expedition  against  Medusa, 
 and  Hercules,  after  the  victor^'^  over  Busiris. 
 With   Napoleon,   the  first   feeling  was  also  that 
 
 *  Lockharl's  spirited  Life  of  Napoleon. 
 
NAPOLEON.  G03 
 
 of  romantic  antiquity.  "  Soldiers  !'  he  exclaim- 
 ed, "  from  the  summit  of  yonder  pyramids  forty 
 ages  behold  you."  He  then  ordered  the  trumpets 
 to  sound,  and  advanced  to  the  charge. 
 
 To  Alexander,  the  result  of  his  singular  expe- 
 dition had  been,  undoubtedly,  an  accession  of 
 mor?il  force.  He  brought  back  with  him  from 
 the  temple  some  degree  of  that  veneration  which 
 is  always  connected  with  hazards  undergone  from 
 religious  impulses.  The  pilgrim,  the  crusader, 
 and  the  Hadgi,  have  successively  had  their  share 
 in  this  natural  tribute. — Napoleon's  march,  pro- 
 bably, in  the  first  instance,  arose  from  a  determi- 
 nation to  show  to  Egypt,  that  no  desert  could 
 screen  his  enemies ;  but,  with  his  Savans  round 
 him,  and  all  France,  romantic  and  imaginative, 
 gazing  on  his  steps,  he  clearly  had  a  desire  to 
 fight  within  view  of  "the  Pyramids!"  Those 
 too,  like  the  shrines  of  Ammon,  were  temples ; 
 and  they  had  been  in  the  centre  of  a  priestly  re- 
 gion. Many  a  strange  rite  had  been  done,  and 
 many  a  fearful  oracle  uttered  within  their  cham- 
 bers. The  secrets  of  all  the  natural  knowledge, 
 the  high  historic  memories,  and  the  mystic  theo- 
 logy, of  the  old  land  of  wisdom,  may  be  there  still, 
 hidden  in  some  of  those  profound  treasuries  of 
 rock,  which  neither  time,  avarice,  conquest,  nor 
 curiosity,  has  been  able  to  penetrate.  They  too 
 stood  in  the  midst  of  a  desert,  which  it  required  a 
 painful  effort  to  traverse.     But  what  was  done  is 
 
604  NAPOLEON. 
 
 equall}^  peculiar  with  what  was  seen.  Alexander 
 leaving  his  troops  without  the  shrine,  entered,  wor- 
 shipped, and  received  the  response  of  the  Oracle  ; 
 doubtless  the  voice  of  some  priest  of  the  temple.' — 
 "  Napoleon  visited  the  interior  of  the  great  pyra- 
 mid ;  and  in  the  secret  chamber,  in  which  three 
 thousand  years  before,  some  Pharaoh  had  been 
 interred,  repeated  once  more  his  confession  of 
 faith  :  '  Tliere  is  no  God  but  God,  and  Mahomet 
 is  his  prophet.'  The  infidel  was  probably  at  that 
 moment  standing  within  the  very  shrine  of  Apis  ^" 
 We  have  had  the  invocation  ;  we  have  also  the 
 response.  "The  bearded  Orientals  who  accom- 
 panied him,  responded  solemnly,  '  God  is  merci- 
 ful. Thou  hast  spoken  like  the  most  learned  of 
 the  prophets  ^' 
 
 Even  the  slight  circumstance,  that  the  Greeks 
 were  hospitably  and  abundantly  entertained  in  the 
 Oasis,    had  its  counterpart,   in  the  fruits  of  the 
 
 '  In  the  Ammonian  Oasis  there  were  two  temples,  one  much 
 smaller  than  the  other  which  contained  the  chief  shrine  of  the 
 god,  with  chambers  for  the  priests.  Whether  the  Pyramids 
 were  tombs  or  temples,  has  been  disputed ;  in  some  later  in- 
 stances they  may  have  been  both  ;  or  a  heathen  king  might  desire 
 to  sleep  in  the  safeguard  of  the  shrine.  But  the  discovery  of  the 
 bones  of  an  ox  in  the  sarcophagus,  which  had  been  supposed  to 
 contain  the  remains  of  a  monarch  ;  with  the  form  of  the  struc- 
 ture, its  astronomical  position,  and  the  multitude  of  its  un- 
 tenanted chambers,  arc  strongly  in  favour  of  their  being 
 temples. 
 
 ^  Lockhart, 
 
NAPOLEON.  G05 
 
 French  victory.  The  plunder  of  the  Mamelukes 
 made  the  troops  opulent.  "  It  being  the  cus- 
 tom of  those  warriors  to  carry  their  wealth  about 
 them,  a  single  corpse  often  made  a  soldier's 
 fortune.  In  the  deserted  dwellings  of  the  chiefs, 
 at  Cairo,  and  in  the  neighbouring  villages,  they 
 found  proofs  that  Eastern  luxury  is  no  empty 
 name." 
 
 As  if  to  complete  this  train  of  coincidence,  it  is 
 certain  that  Napoleon  returned  with  an  actual  and 
 extraordinary  accession  of  popular  awe.  The 
 conqueror  of  the  Mamelukes  was  thenceforth 
 deemed  invincible.  He  was  named,  with  fine 
 Orientalism,  Sultan  Kebir,  "  the  King  of  Fire." 
 "  His  name  spread  panic  through  the  East,"  and 
 he  was  considered  to  be  the  destined  scourge  of 
 God\ 
 
 Alexander  was  preparing  to  visit  the  antiqui- 
 ties of  Upper  Egypt,  when  he  was  suddenly  sum- 
 moned to  return  to  Tyre,  by  intelligence  from  the 
 former  seat  of  war,  that  the  Persian  king  was 
 collecting  all  his  forces.  On  his  return  to  Tyre, 
 "  he  received  numerous  communications  from 
 Greece,  announcing  that  the  Lacedaemonians 
 (the  rigid  republican  party  of  Greece),  were  at- 
 tempting to  dissolve  the  confederacy,  and  had 
 taken  up  arms  to  form  a  new  confederacy  under 
 their  ancient  leaders  of  Sparta'.     Darius  having 
 
 '  Lockhart.  ^  Mitford,  vol.  viii. 
 
606  NAPOLEON. 
 
 supplied  tliem  with  money,  which  they  employed 
 in  bribing  the  chief  magistrates  of  the  republics. 
 "  Had  Athens  acceded,  nearly  all  Greece  would 
 have  disclaimed  the  Macedonian  supremacy'." 
 Alexander  instantly  sent  money  to  keep  up  his  in- 
 terest with  his  friends  in  Greece,  and  a  fleet  to 
 overawe  his  enemies.  Having  restrained  the  at- 
 tempts to  dismiss  him  from  command,  he  suddenly 
 left  Egypt,  and  prepared  to  invade  the  Persian 
 dominions  again.  His  route  was  now  more  direct 
 upon  the  Babylonish  provinces.  "  The  army 
 quitted  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean;"  and 
 at  the  age  of  twenty-five,  Alexander  began  his 
 fourth  campaign. — While  Napoleon  was  fight- 
 ing in  Syria,  he  received  from  France  the 
 news,  at  once  of  reverses  in  Ital}'^,  and  of  the 
 difficulties  of  the  government.  He  instantly  re- 
 turned to  Alexandria ;  thence  he  secretly  and 
 suddenly  returned  to  France.  He  there  crushed 
 the  republican  party,  remodelled  the  state,  made 
 himself  first  consul^,  and  then,  at  the  age  of 
 thirty,  commenced  his  fourth  campaign  against 
 the  German  emperor.  Like  Alexander,  with  two 
 roads  before  him  ;  like  him,  he  chose  the  more 
 difficult.  Alexander's  reasons  were,  that  it  was 
 the  better  furnished  with  necessaries,  and  the 
 shorter.  Napoleon  was  expected  to  march  by 
 the  road  to   Genoa ;  he  struck  across  the  Alps 
 
 '  Mitford,  vol.  viii.  ^  Nov.  1799. 
 
NAPOLEON.  607 
 
 when  they  were  covered  with  snow,   and  poured 
 down  into  the  heart  of  Italy.  ^ 
 
 Asia  Minor,  the  finest  portion  of  the  Asiatic 
 continent,  once  the  seat  of  all  the  genius,  luxury, 
 and  arts  of  the  world,  corresponds  to  Italy.  Its 
 position  with  reference  to  the  native  Persian  pro- 
 vinces is  closely  that  of  Italy  to  the  German. 
 There  is  even  some  general  similitude  in  their 
 shape.  A  branch  of  Mount  Taurus,  the  loftiest  of 
 the  Asiatic  chain,  marked  the  eastern  division  of 
 this  rich  peninsula,  as  the  Tyrolese  Alps  form  the 
 northern  barrier  of  Italy  on  the  side  of  Austria. 
 
 Alexander  was  now  to  fight  the  battle  which 
 decided  his  claims  to  empire.  The  largest  force 
 that  Persia  had  ever  brought  into  the  field  against 
 him,  was  drawn  up  in  the  great  plain,  on  the 
 edge  of  which  stood  the  city  of  Arbela.  This 
 was  the  most  dubious  battle  in  which  he  was 
 ever  engaged.  Where  he  himself  charged,  he 
 forced  his  way ;  but  his  left  wing  was  long  sur- 
 rounded, and  in  such  imminent  danger,  that  Par- 
 menio  sent  to  him  for  succours,  telling  him  that 
 without  them  he  must  be  ruined.  The  centre  of  the 
 Greek  line  was  divided,  and  the  Persian  and  Par- 
 thian cavalry  rode  through,  and  plundered  the 
 baggage.  Towards  the  close  of  the  engagement, 
 Alexander  himself  was  in  the  most  perilous  situa- 
 tion, in  the  midst  of  the  enemy's  horse.  But  a 
 charge  of  his  Thessalian  cavalry  at  length  decided 
 the  day.  The  Persians,  who  had  been  injudiciously 
 
608  NAPOLEON. 
 
 drawn  up  with  the  river  Lycus  in  their  rear,  were 
 either  driven  into  the  river,  or  made  prisoners. 
 The  army  was  totally  broken.  Their  general 
 had  left  them  early  in  the  day,  and  fled.  Alex- 
 ander pursued  Darius,  but  in  vain.  He  then  re- 
 turned to  take  undisturbed  possession  of  the 
 country.     His  next  act  was  administrative. 
 
 Babylon  was  now  in  his  hands.  It  had  long 
 been  severely  treated  by  the  Persian  kings.  They 
 had  taken  away  the  golden  statue  of  Belus,  and 
 partially  destroyed  the  great  temple.  For  more 
 than  a  hundred  years  before,  it  had  all  the  signs 
 of  a  declinmg  and  falling  city.  The  first  care  of 
 Alexander  was  to  restore  the  shrines,  and  even  to 
 rebuild  the  temple  of  Belus.  The  revenues  attach- 
 ed to  its  establishment  were  restored  to  the  priests. 
 He  then  offered  a  sacrifice  to  Jupiter  Belus. 
 
 Preparatory  to  his  next  expedition  against  Per- 
 sia Proper,  he  marched  against  the  Uxians,  a 
 mountain  people  of  remarkable  braver}^,  who  had 
 long  insisted  on  making  the  Persian  emperors  pay 
 for  the  passage  of  their  troops.  Their  country 
 covered  a  portion  of  the  Persian  frontier.  Alex- 
 ander surprised  their  troops,  took  possession  of 
 their  passes,  and  made  them  tributary.  He 
 then  marched  on  Persia  Proper,  fought  a  brief 
 battle  on  the  frontier,  passed  round  the  enemy, 
 and  took  possession  of  Persepolis,  the  capital, 
 where  he  assumed  the  majesty  of  an  empe- 
 ror.     "  He  entered   the   presence   chamber,   and 
 
NAPOLEON.  609 
 
 seated  himself  on  the  throne  of  tlie  king:  of 
 kino-s."  The  colossal  statue  of  Xerxes  had  been 
 thrown  down  at  the  entrance  of  the  palace «4 
 Alexander,  on  passing  it,  stopped,  and  addressed 
 it  as  if  it  had  been  alive — "  Shall  we  leave  you 
 in  this  condition,  on  account  of  the  war  you  made 
 upon  Greece,  or  raise  you  again  for  the  sake  of 
 your  magnanimity  and  other  virtues?"  He  stood 
 a  long  time,  as  if  deliberating  what  he  should  do  ; 
 he  then  passed  on,  leaving  it  as  it  was '. 
 
 This  portion  of  the  parallel  is  equally  strong 
 with  all  that  went  before. — Napoleon  advanced 
 until  he  found  the  Austrian  army  drawn  up  on  the 
 great  plain  of  Marengo.  The  Austrians  marched 
 from  Alessandria  :  the  battle  was  desperate.  The 
 first  French  line,  under  Victor,  was  beaten,  and 
 driven  back  upon  the  second ;  both  were  then 
 pushed  behind  Marengo.  The  Austrian  cavalry 
 charged  the  retreating  columns  of  Lannes,  which 
 gave  way.  The  retreat  was  now  general,  and 
 Melas,  thinking  that  the  day  was  won,  left  the 
 field.  A  reinforcement  under  Desaix  brought  the 
 struggle  to  an  equality  again.  Napoleon  was 
 undismayed  throughout.  At  last  a  charge  of  his 
 cavalry  under  Kellerman  decided  the  battle.  The 
 routed  army  rushed  towards  the  Bormida  ;  a  great 
 number  were  drowned  ;  the  chief  part  of  the  sur- 
 
 '  Williams's  Life  of  Alexander.  The  ingenious  and  learned 
 anther  of  this  work  has  long  since  promised  us  the  life  of 
 CjBsar.     Why  does  he  delay  ? 
 
 R  r 
 
610  NAPOLEON. 
 
 vivors  were  made  prisoners.  Tliis  battle  gave 
 Italy  at  once  into  Napoleon's  hands  \  But  it  was 
 more  than  a  battle,  and  more  than  a  victory  ;  it 
 was  the  final  decision  of  European  supremacy,  and 
 of  his  own  claims  to  the  highest  rank  of  fame  and 
 power.  All  his  future  successes  were  but  the 
 natural  results  of  this  prodigious  struggle.  He 
 felt  this  consciousness  himself,  for  with  the  pre- 
 dictive spirit  of  a  mind  always  loftily  busy  with 
 the  future,  he  pronounced  to  his  staff,  as  he  saw 
 the  enemy's  squadrons  vanishing  before  him, 
 "  After  this  day,  history  cannot  be  written  with- 
 out mentioning  our  names."  This  battle  was  not 
 less  the  blow  that  decided  the  fate  of  the  Conti- 
 nent. Pitt,  on  reading  the  bulletin  of  Marengo  ; 
 pointing  to  a  map  of  Europe  on  the  table,  said 
 with  melancholy,  but  powerful,  foresight,  "  Fold 
 up  that  map,  it  will  not  be  wanted  for  these 
 twenty  years  ^" 
 
 On  -his  return  to  Paris,  and  his  appointment  of 
 First  Consul  for  life,  his  first  attention  was  turned  to 
 the  Romish  Church.  Babylon  was  at  his  disposal. 
 "The  sparing  of  the  Papal  dominions  after  Ma- 
 rengo, and  the  re-opening  of  the  French  churches, 
 were  the  preliminaries  of  the  Concordat  signed 
 September  18,  between  the  Pope  and  the  revolu- 
 tionary government.  Napoleon  avowed  himself 
 to  be  '  no  believer  in  religion,'  but  conceived   it 
 
 '  Marengo,  June  14,  1800.  ^  Lockhart. 
 
NAPOLEON.  611 
 
 to  be  a  principle  which  cannot  be  eradicated  from 
 the  heart  of  man."  By  the  Concordat,  the  Ro- 
 man Catholic  religion  was  recognized  as  the  na- 
 tional faith.  "The  bishoprics  were  to  be  filled 
 by  the  Pope  on  nominations  by  the  government ; 
 the  livings  were  to  be  re-arranged,  and  provision 
 made  for  the  clergy  by  the  government."  The 
 Pope  was  discontented,  but  acquiesced.  France 
 which  had  been  atheist  so  long,  was  restored 
 to  some  acknowledgment  of  religion,  and  the 
 altars  of  the  old  worship,  and  a  portion  of  its  rank 
 and  wealth,  were  restored.  Napoleon  now  prepared 
 for  a  new  German  war,  to  be  directed  against  the 
 Austrian  states.  His  first  step  was  the  invasion  of 
 Switzerland  :  he  marched  40,000  troops  into  the 
 country,  reduced  those  hitherto  unconquered 
 European  Uxii,  the  frontier  guardians  of  Ger- 
 many, to  rapid  submission,  and  declared  himself 
 "  Grand  Mediator  of  the  Helvetic  republic."  On 
 the  18th  of  May,  1804,  he  pronounced  himself 
 emperor.  On  the  13th  of  November,  1805,  he 
 entered  Vienna,  and  took,  up  his  residence  in  the 
 imperial  palace  of  Schoenbrun.  Finishing  the 
 war  by  the  battle  of  Austerlitz,  he  closed  this 
 series  of  astonishing  triumphs  by  setting  the  seal  to 
 the  downfall  of  the  German  empire.  The  statue 
 of  the  old  imperial  dynasty  had  been  thrown  down 
 at  its  own  gates,  the  Xerxes  had  been  rudely  rent 
 from  its  pedestal,  and  Napoleon,  for  a  time,  deli- 
 berated on  the  fate  of  a  line  at  once  so  powerful, 
 
 R  r  *2 
 
612  NAPOLEOTV. 
 
 and  so  generally  guiltless  of  the  vices  and  violences 
 of  power.  But  the  German  empire  was  not  to  be 
 again  raised  on  its  pedestal.  He  passed  on.  In 
 1806  he  gave  full  effect  to  his  decision,  by  form- 
 ing the  Confederation  of  the  Rhine,  which  finally 
 withdrew  the  princes  from  the  imperial  allegiance, 
 and  abolished  the  ancient  German  constitution. 
 
 The  connection  still  proceeds,  to  the  close  of 
 both  the  lives,  but  we  must  now  leave  it  to  be 
 pursued  by  others.  Alexander,  driving  the  Per- 
 sians to  bay,  is  involved  in  a  conflict  with  the 
 Scythians.  It  is  brief ;  he  defeats  them,  and  the 
 Scythian  monarch  proposes  peace.  An  effort  of 
 Spitamenes,  one  of  the  great  satraps  of  Persia,  to 
 restore  the  empire,  involves  him  in  a  second  Scy- 
 thian attack,  which  is  rapidly  defeated,  but  which 
 leads  him  into  Bactria,  and  begins  hostilities  of 
 great  waste  and  hazard.  As  it  was  the  least  glo- 
 rious, so  it  was  also  the  most  toilsome  of  all  his 
 Asiatic  campaigns.  The  ivhole  land  was  in  arms. 
 The  Bactrians  held  a  middle  place  between  the 
 civilization  of  the  Persians  and  the  native  Scy- 
 thians. He  fixed  his  camp  in  Bactria,  and  there 
 commenced  the  unaccountable  and  profitless  cam- 
 paigns for  the  conquest  of  the  north  of  Asia. 
 Passing  by  the  southern  shore  of  the  Caspian,  he 
 plunged  into  the  Tartar  desert,  pursuing  an  enemy 
 whom  he  could  never  overtake,  and  at  great  per- 
 sonal risk  capturing  towns,  which  he  was  forced 
 immediately  to  abandon.     He  at  last  arrived   at 
 
NAPOLliON.  613 
 
 the  Hyphasis ;  where  he  was  finally  compelled  to 
 retrace  his  steps,  not  by  any  military  disaster,  but 
 by  the  utter  weariness  and  exhaustion  of  the  army. 
 Revolts  too  were  breaking  out  in  the  conquered 
 provinces,  with  new  disturbances  in  Greece,  where 
 from  his  long  absence,  his  authority  had  dimi- 
 nished, and  he  was  even  supposed  to  be  dead. 
 From  the  march  into  Sogdiana,  (b.c.  327.)  to  the 
 halt  on  the  Hyphasis,  (b.c.  326.)  was  not  quite 
 two  years.  But,  to  one  feature  of  this  campaign 
 it  is  impossible  to  avoid  alluding ;  his  movement 
 homeward.  Descending  the  Indus  for  a  short 
 distance,  he  determined  to  make  the  remainder 
 of  his  march  overland.  This  description  shall  be 
 given,  for  the  sake  of  accuracy,  in  extracts  from 
 the  authorities  already  adopted'.  It  was  his 
 "  March  from  Moscow." 
 
 "The  king  now  ventured  into  the  Desert  of 
 Gedrosia  ;  the  modern  Macron.  During  sixty 
 days  spent  in  traversing  this  waste,  from  the  edge 
 of  Oreitia  to  Pura,  they  had  to  struggle  against 
 difficulties  greater  than  were  ever  before  or  after 
 surmounted  by  a  regular  army.  *  *  *  Arrian  thus 
 delivers  the  narrative  : — The  commencement  of 
 the  march  in  the  desert  was  over  a  region  covered 
 with  myrrh-bearing  shrubs.  The  trampling  of  the 
 long  columns  crushed  the  fragrant  stems,  and 
 diffused  a  grateful  odour  through  the  atmosphere. 
 But  the  Macedonians  soon  found  that  the  balmy 
 '  Williams's  Life  of  Alexander. 
 
614  NAPOLEON. 
 
 gales  were  no  compensation  for  the  want  of  food 
 and  water.  *  *  *  All  the  companions  of  Alexan- 
 der, who  had  followed  him  from  Macedonia  to 
 the  Hyphasis,  agreed  that  all  the  other  labours 
 and  dangers  in  their  Asiatic  expedition,  were  not 
 to  be  compared  with  the  march  through  Gedrosia. 
 The  burning  heat  and  scarcity  of  water  proved 
 fatal  to  a  great  portion  of  the  men,  and  to  all  the 
 beasts  of  burden,  for  the  desert  was  like  an  ocean 
 of  moving  sand,  and  assumed  all  the  fantastic 
 shapes  of  driven  snow.  The  men  sank  deep  into 
 those  banks  or  wreaths,  and  the  progress  of  all  the 
 luheeled  vehicles  was  soon  stopped.  The  length  of 
 some  of  their  marches  exhausted  them  to  the  last 
 degree,  for  they  were  regulated,  not  by  the 
 strength  of  the  men,  but  by  the  discovery  of  water. 
 *  *  *  The  destruction  of  the  beasts  of  burden  was 
 principally  the  work  of  the  men,  who,  in  their 
 hunger,  killed  and  devoured  not  only  the  oxen, 
 but  horses  and  mules.  For  this  purpose  they 
 would  linger  behind,  and  on  coming  up,  allege 
 that  the  animals  had  died  of  thirst  or  fatigue.  In 
 the  general  relaxation  of  discipline,  few  officers 
 were  curious  in  remarking  what  was  done  amiss. 
 Even  Alexander  could  only  preserve  the  forms  of 
 authority,  by  an  apparent  ignorance  of  disorders 
 which  could  not  be  remedied,  and  by  conniving  at 
 offences  which  severity  could  not  have  checked." 
 "  But  the  destruction  of  the  beasts  of  burden 
 was  the  death  warrant  of  the  sick  and  exhausted, 
 
NAPOLEON.  615 
 
 who  were  left  behind,  without  conductors  and 
 without  consolers.  For,  eagerness  to  advance  be- 
 came the  general  characteristic,  and  the  miseries 
 of  others  were  overlooked  by  men  who  anticipated 
 their  own  doom.  *  *  *  Amid  such  appalling  recol- 
 lections, the  strong  man  could  not  deeply  sympa- 
 thize with  his  feebler  comrade,  but  husbanded  his 
 own  strength  for  the  eventual  struggle.  As  most 
 of  the  marches  were  made  by  night,  many  were 
 overpowered  by  sleep,  and  sank  on  the  road  side. 
 Few  of  those  ever  rejoined  the  army,  they  rose 
 and  attempted  to  pursue  the  track,  but  a  consci- 
 ousness of  their  desolation,  and  the  want  of  food, 
 for  famine  in  all  its  horrors  was  in  the  rear  of 
 such  an  army,  soon  paralyzed  all  exertion,  and 
 after  floundering  for  a  short  period  among  the 
 hillocks  of  yielding  sand,  they  would  lay  them- 
 selves down  and  die." 
 
 They  were  now  to  suffer  an  addition  to  the 
 miseries  of  this  dreadful  retreat,  from  a  river,  the 
 last  enemy  which  they  might  expect  in  a  wilder- 
 ness of  sand.  "  Another  and  most  dissimilar  mis- 
 fortune overtook  them.  They  had  encamped  one 
 evening  in  the  dry  bed  of  a  torrent.  Late  at 
 night,  in  consequence  of  a  sudden  fall  of  rain 
 among  the  mountains,  the  waters  descended,  with 
 the  fury  and  depth  of  an  impetuous  river,  and 
 swept  every  thing  before  them.  Many  helpless 
 women  and  children  perished  in  the  flood,  which 
 also  carried  away  the  royal  equipage,  and  most  of 
 
616  NAPOLEON. 
 
 the  i^emalning  beasts  of  burden.  *  *  *  At  one  pe- 
 riod, the  guides  confessed  that  they  knew  not 
 where  they  were.  A  gale  of  wind  had  swept  the 
 surface  of  the  desert,  and  obliterated  every  trace  in 
 the  sands.  The  army  therefore  was  in  the  greatest 
 danger  of  perishing  in  the  pathless  wild. 
 
 "  Alexander,  thus  thrown  upon  his  own  re- 
 sources, took  with  him  a  few  horsemen,  and  turning 
 to  the  left,  hastened,  by  luhat  he  deemed  the  shortest 
 cut,  to  the  sea  shore.  His  escort  dropped  off  by 
 degrees,  and  free  alone  remained  when  he  was  for- 
 tunate enough  to  reach  the  coast."  There  they 
 found  water  by  digging  wells.  The  army  fol- 
 lowed, marched  for  seven  days  along  the  shore, 
 their  guides  recovered  the  road,  and  turning  in- 
 land, they  at  length  reached  Pura  (the  modern 
 Bunpore),  where  they  halted.  Such  is  Arrian's 
 account.  Strabo  says,  "  Many  sank  down  by 
 the  road  side,  exhausted  by  fatigue,  heat,  and 
 thirst.  They  were  seized  with  tremors,  accom- 
 panied by  convulsive  motions  of  the  hands  and 
 feet,  and  died  like  men  overpowered  by  rigors  and 
 shivering  fits."  The  satrap  of  Gedrosia  had  neg- 
 lected his  duty ;  on  him  therefore  fell  all  the 
 blame  of  the  soldiers'  sufferings.  He  was  dis- 
 missed. Intelligence  next  arrived,  that  Philip, 
 the  governor  of  the  provinces  west  of  the  Indus, 
 had  been  slain  in  a  mutiny  of  the  Greek  merce- 
 naries, but  that  the  mutiny  had  been  put  down, 
 and  the  assassins  slain. 
 
NAPOLEON.  617 
 
 It  must  be  unnecessary  to  follow  this  sketch 
 minutely  through  the  northern  campaigns  of  Na- 
 poleon ;  the  two  Russian  wars  arising  out  of  the 
 efforts  of  Russia  to  relieve  Germany  ;  the  Polish 
 war,  and  the  memorable  invasion  directed  to  the 
 heart  of  the  Russian  territories.  Even  in  the  deep- 
 ening shades  of  national  character  the  similitude 
 is  observable  between  the  Persian,  the  Bactrian, 
 and  the  Scythian  ;  and  the  Austrian,  the  Pole, 
 and  the  Russ.  The  march  to  Moscow,  baffled, 
 not  by  the  enemy,  but  by  a  new  antagonist,  the 
 conflagration,  which  rendered  it  equally  impos- 
 sible to  advance  or  to  remain  ;  the  sixty  days' 
 retreat  ^  the  agonies  of  hunger  and  toil,  the  loss  of 
 all  the  baggage,  artillery,  and  horses  ;  the  night 
 marches,  the  deaths  by  the  road  side,  the  furious 
 disorders,  the  final  havoc  of  life  and  wealth  in 
 the  Beresina,  the  formation  of  a  body  of  cavalry 
 for  the  especial  escort  of  Napoleon,  his  sudden 
 departure  from  the  army,  their  arrival  at  Wilna, 
 the  general  wrath  against  the  officers  who  had  ne- 
 glected to  make  provision  for  them  in  their  march 
 and  on  their  arrival ;  the  intelligence  that  awaited 
 them  of  Mallet's  conspiracy,  which  by  the  help 
 of  the  disaffected  in  high  stations  was  so  near 
 unseating  the  government ;  the  sudden  suppres- 
 sion  of  this  daring  attempt,    and  the  immediate 
 
 *  Begun  from  the  Kremlin,  lUtli  October.  Napoleon  airived 
 at  Paris  18th  December.  The  troops  reached  the  Prussian  fron- 
 tier at  Kowno  about  the  same  time. 
 
618  NAPOLEON. 
 
 death  of  the  conspirators,  are  all  lines  of  the  same 
 picture. 
 
 But  the  coincidences  are  not  limited  to  those 
 events,  which  may  be  called  the  regular  course  of 
 the  lives  ;  the  history  is  full  of  minor  traits,  if  not 
 in  exact  order,  yet  full  of  identity. 
 
 In  the  course  of  the  campaign  in  which  Alex- 
 ander became  master  of  Egypt,  he  advanced  to- 
 wards Jerusalem,  was  received  by  the  high  priest 
 as  a  promised  deliverer,  and  in  return  pledged  his 
 protection. — We  find  Napoleon  scarcely  seated  on 
 the  throne,  when  (in  1806),  he  astonished  Europe 
 and  mankind  by  summoning  a  Sanhedrin  at  Paris, 
 receiving  their  allegiance  as  that  of  their  nation, 
 and  placing  them  in  the  rank  of  citizens  of  France. 
 
 Alexander  had  originally  married  Roxana,  the 
 daughter  of  a  Bactrian  chief.  She  appears  not 
 to  have  borne  him  children.  After  the  conquest 
 of  the  Persian  empire,  he  married  Statira,  the 
 young  daughter  of  the  emperor,  with  the  expec- 
 tation of  having  an  heir,  and  also  of  confirming, 
 "  in  the  eyes  of  his  Persian  subjects,  his  title  to 
 the  throne'."  But  this  transaction,  which  was 
 entirely  opposed  to  the  laws,  and  even  the  cus- 
 toms, of  Greece,  however  it  might  have  been 
 violated  by  the  license  of  power  ;  and  which  pro- 
 duced dreadful  hostility  on  the  part  of  Roxana ; 
 was  made  more  memorable  still,  by  his  command 
 
 '  Williams. 
 
NAPOLEON.  619 
 
 that  his  principal  officers  should  also  marry.  To 
 three  of  his  generals  he  gave  three  princesses  of 
 the  imperial  house,  now  his  own.  Eighty  of  his 
 favourite  officers  were  also  married.  He  gave 
 portions  to  all  the  brides ;  and  he  ordered  that 
 all  the  soldiers  who  had  married  Persian  wives, 
 and  who  amounted  to  10,000,  should  also  receive 
 gratuities. — Napoleon's  marriages  with  Josephine, 
 and  Maria  Louise,  the  daughter  of  the  Emperor 
 of  Germany,  when  fallen  from  his  title,  and  re- 
 duced to  the  rank  of  Emperor  of  Austria,  are 
 sufficiently  remembered.  The  marriages  of  his 
 sisters  and  relatives  with  his  generals,  and  even 
 the  marriages  of  the  soldiers  of  the  consular 
 guard  ;  the  whole  scene  of  royal  revelry,  munifi- 
 cence, and  alliances,  which  astonished  the  world 
 so  universally  in  the  days  of  the  French  emperor 
 of  Europe,  were  but  the  revival  of  a  scene,  shown 
 two  thousand  years  ago  by  the  Grecian  Emperor 
 of  Asia. 
 
 The  closing  of  their  career  was  different ;  for 
 Alexander's  return  from  the  fiery  sands  left  him 
 still  the  lord  of  the  world.  Napoleon  survived  the 
 return  from  his  snows,  only  to  exhibit  a  tremen- 
 dous lesson  to  the  ambition  that  at  once  tramples 
 on  man  and  insults  Heaven.  But  they  died  alike  : 
 the  two  greatest  warriors  of  the  world  died,  not 
 by  the  chances  of  war,  but  by  disease.  A  still 
 more  singular  trait  allied  the  last  hours  of  those 
 two  men  of  wonder.     Alexander,   the  disciple  of 
 
620  NAPOLEON. 
 
 Aristotle,  the  worshipper  of  every  shrine,  and  the 
 despiser  of  all,  closed  his  career  in  the  most 
 solemn  forms  of  reverence  for  his  native  worship. 
 During  seven  days  of  the  tertian,  which  wore 
 away  the  master  mind  and  frame,  he  offered  sacri- 
 fices to  the  gods  of  Greece,  and  was  even  carried 
 on  a  couch  to  the  altar. — Napoleon,  the  notorious 
 infidel,  to  whom  the  worship  of  Jew,  Christian, 
 or  Moslem,  was  equally  a  matter  of  scorn,  de- 
 sired to  die  in  the  rites  of  his  original  Church. 
 "  I  am  neiihev  physicien  nor  philosojjhe,'"  were  his 
 words.  "  I  believe  in  God,  and  am  of  the  religion 
 of  my  father  :  I  was  born  a  Catholic,  and  will 
 fulfil  all  the  duties  of  that  Church,  and  receive 
 the  assistance  which  she  administers."  He  re- 
 ceived the  sacraments,  and  in  two  days  after  he 
 died. 
 
 Both  Alexander  and  Napoleon  left  sons  ;  neither 
 was  succeeded  by  his  son.  The  Macedonian  em- 
 pire fell  into  the  possession  of  four  princes.  Yet 
 notwithstanding  this  dissolution  of  the  overthrower 
 of  the  Persian  empire,  that  empire  was  not  re- 
 stored.— The  empire  of  Napoleon  fell  into  the 
 hands  of  the  four  confederate  powers  ;  England, 
 Austria,  Russia,  and  Prussia.  Yet  the  Emperor 
 of  Austria  remained  limited  to  his  hereditary  do- 
 minions. His  sceptre  was  never  waved  again 
 over  the  German  empire. 
 
 The  periods  of  both  Alexander  and  Napoleon 
 were  also  connected  with  one  great  religious  event 
 
NAPOLEON.  621 
 
 — the  diffusion  of  the  Scriptures.  The  Septuagint 
 version  followed,  and  arose  out  oJ\  the  circum- 
 stances of  the  reign  of  Alexander. — The  formation 
 of  the  Bible  societies  of  Europe  commenced  in 
 1805.  The  former  in  rather  more  than  half  a 
 century  from  the  end  of  the  Macedonian  empire  ; 
 the  latter  in  one  year  from  the  beginning  of  the 
 French.  The  difference,  slight  as  it  is,  may  have 
 arisen,  in  the  former  instance,  from  a  providential 
 design  of  deferring  the  work  until  the  Greek  lan- 
 guage had  full  opportunity  to  pervade  the  East,  and 
 until  the  impediment  naturally  existing  to  the  diffu- 
 sion of  the  Scriptures,  in  a  period  of  universal  war, 
 had  been  removed  by  the  partial  return  to  tranquil- 
 lity. The  same  objection  not  subsisting  in  the  latter 
 period  with  respect  to  language  ;  Europe  was  no 
 sooner  relieved  from  the  excessive  terrors  of  de- 
 mocratic revolt  in  the  bosom  of  every  state,  by  the 
 formation  of  an  imperial  government  in  France, 
 the  death-blow  to  democracy  ;  than  the  Bible  was 
 instantly  sent  forth,  to  bear  its  light  through  all 
 nations. 
 
CHAPTER  L. 
 
 THE  FUTURE. 
 
 That  since  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era,  a 
 succession  of  remarkable  changes  have  continued 
 to  operate  on  society ;  and  that  those  changes 
 are  of  so  distinct  a  character,  as  to  present  them- 
 selves to  the  eye  in  regular  periods ;  is  a  plain 
 fact  of  history.  The  first  four  centuries  were  ages 
 of  religion ;  times  occupied  in  the  advance  of 
 Christianity,  and  consummated  by  the  fall  of 
 Heathenism,  in  the  reig-n  of  Theodosius.  Nearly 
 four  centuries  more  were  ages  of  blood;  times 
 of  barbarian  invasion,  and  general  war,  con- 
 summated in  the  establishment  of  the  Popedom 
 as  a  spiritual  and  temporal  monarchy.  Nearly 
 five  centuries  more  were  ages  of  darkness ;  times 
 of  privation  of  religious,  and  of  all,  knowledge, 
 consummated  by  the  establishment  of  the  Pope- 
 dom at  the  head  of  universal  monarchy,  the 
 fall  of  the  Waldenses,  and  the  submission  of  all 
 the  European  kingdoms.  Nearly  five  centuries 
 more   combined   the   character  of  ages  of  com- 
 
THE    FUTURE.  623 
 
 parative  light,  and  yet  ages  of  religious  perse- 
 cution :  a  period  of  violent  struggles  for  and 
 against  Protestantism  ;  of  great  severities  exercised 
 by  the  Inquisition  ;  and  of  massacres  and  banish- 
 ments inflicted  on  the  Protestants  throughout  Eu- 
 rope :  the  whole  consummated  by  the  outbreak  of 
 a  spirit  of  infidelity  and  rebellion  in  France,  yet 
 which,  by  abolishing  the  Inquisition  in  all  lands, 
 destroyed  the  last  public  instrument  of  religious 
 persecution. 
 
 But  it  is  also  a  plain  Scriptural  fact,  that  those 
 changes  were  distinctly  contemplated  by  Provi- 
 dence. In  the  prophecy  given  to  St.  John,  before 
 the  close  of  the  first  century,  under  emblems 
 which  form  the  common  prophetic  language,  were 
 detailed  to  him  the  exact  succession,  as  well  as 
 the  peculiar  nature,  of  those  changes. 
 
 After  a  most  solemn  summons  to  his  attention, 
 as  about  to  see  a  great  unfolding  of  the  future,  he 
 is  shown,  first, — the  emblem  of  a  monarchy  going 
 forth  to  complete  the  triumph  of  religion. — He 
 is  next  shown  the  armed  emblem  of  an  age  of 
 slaughter  ;  the  rider  on  a  horse  coloured  with 
 fire  and  gore. — Next  follows  the  rider  on  a  horse 
 of  darkness,  holding  the  balance  by  which  he 
 makes  himself  the  judge  of  truth  and  conscience, 
 and  proclaiming  an  universal  famine  of  "  the 
 bread  of  life." — Then  follows  the  ghastly  rider, 
 on  a  horse  of  a  lighter  hue  ;  the  emblem  of  an  age 
 of  comparative  knowledge,  but  bringing  with  him 
 
 1 
 
624  THE    FUTURE. 
 
 the  power  of  the  grave,  persecution,  death,  and 
 Hades.  The  consummation  of  this  period  we  have 
 but  just  passed. — Then  follows  the  period  on 
 which  we  are  entering ;  evidently  a  period  in 
 which  the  coldness  and  growing  infidelity  of  the 
 religious  world  will  call  down  chastisement  in  the 
 form  of  desolation ;  a  period  in  which  multi- 
 tudes will  fall  away,  and  many  will  be  slain  for 
 their  adherence  to  religion. — This  shall  be  fol- 
 lowed by  a  period  of  fearful  retaliation  on  the 
 powers  of  the  earth,  which  have  perpetrated  those 
 violences ;  when  the  whole  fabric  of  empire  shall 
 be  shaken.  Connected  with  this  period,  or  in  close 
 succession,  shall  be  the  recall  of  a  large  portion 
 of  the  Jewish  nation  to  the  religion  of  the  pro- 
 mise, the  acknowledgment  of  Christianity. — The 
 prediction  then  declares  the  second  coming  of  the 
 Lord  of  Christianity  ;  the  establishment  of  an  era 
 of  religious  peace  and  happiness  on  earth,  as  large 
 as  man  is  capable  of  enjoying,  until  his  transfer 
 to  a  higher  state  of  being.  Such  is  the  prophecy 
 of  the  6th  and  7th  chapters  of  the  Revelation. 
 
 If  the  theory  of  the  three  Cycles  be  true,  the  fu- 
 ture events  of  the  third  will  be,as  in  the  two  former, 
 — a  falling  away  of  the  majority  of  the  visible 
 Church  into  religious  negligence  or  direct  infi- 
 delity, followed  by  a  great  and  visible  chastise- 
 ment of  the  Church,  as  in  the  days  of  Epiphanes  ; 
 with  partial  changes,  until  religion  shall  seem  to 
 be  extinguished,  as  at  the  fall  of  Jerusalem  and 
 
THE    FUTURE.  025 
 
 the  destruction  of  the  Jewish  nation.  This  ajrain 
 shall  be  followed  by  the  general  ruin  of  the  devas- 
 tators ;  the  mighty  calling  to  the  mountains  to 
 fall  upon  them,  and  shield  them  from  the  day  of 
 Divine  wrath :  and  this  display  of  the  Divine 
 anger  followed  by  the  still  more  abundant  display 
 of  the  Divine  mercy  ;  the  earth  becoming  a  great 
 religious  empire,  under  either  the  visible  or  vir- 
 tual domination  of  Christianity. 
 
 So  far,  the  deductions  from  the  two  former 
 Cycles  for  the  history  of  the  third,  are  confirmed 
 by  the  prophecy  of  the  seven  seals.  But  the  Cycle 
 should  go  further,  and  contain  the  two  extraordi- 
 nary events,  of  a  revolt  against  the  Divine  sceptre, 
 and  of  the  rapid  extinction  of  that  revolt  by  some 
 memorable  act  of  Deity  ;  the  whole  closing  in  the 
 commencement  of  a  new  and  more  illustrious 
 course  of  Providence.  We  find  those  events  fully 
 established  by  the  direct  declarations  of  Scrip- 
 ture, that, — after  the  power  of  evil  shall  have  been 
 divinely  coerced,  for  a  time,  Satan  shall  again  be 
 let  loose  from  his  chain,  and  shall  go  forth  and 
 "  deceive  the  nations  which  are  in  the  four  quarters 
 of  the  earth  ;"  while,  in  this  new  and  vast  tempta- 
 tion, there  shall  be  no  departure  from  the  common 
 principle  of  the  Divine  government,  the  permis- 
 sion of  trial  for  the  purpose  of  compelling  mans 
 own  observation  to  mark  the  line  between  the  pre- 
 tender to  virtue  and  the  possessor  of  virtue.  The 
 true  worshipper  shall  be  sustained,  in  the  utter 
 
 s  s 
 
626  THE    FUTURE. 
 
 abscission  of  the  hypocrite. — Then,  at  the  close  of 
 this  final  purification,  shall  come  the  great  ter- 
 mination of  the  providential  government.  The 
 whole  multitude  of  the  heathen  dead,  from  the 
 creation  to  the  last  day ;  and  of  all  those  who, 
 though  professing  the  faiths  of  Judaeism  and 
 Christianity,  have  not  "  been  thought  worthy" 
 of  that  "first  resurrection/'  in  which  Paul  and 
 the  leaders  of  the  apostolic  age  so  fervently 
 prayed  to  be  numbered  ;  shall  be  summoned  to 
 receive  the  judgment  due  to  their  works,  before 
 the  King  and  Arbiter  of  all ;  a  judgment,  of 
 whose  forms  we  can  conjecture  nothing,  but  of 
 whose  principle  we  have  six  thousand  years  of 
 proof,  that  it  will  be  in  the  perfection  of  justice, 
 wisdom,  and  mercy.  To  that  judgment,  the  ante- 
 diluvian millions,  who  now  sleep  in  the  depths  of 
 the  ocean,  shall  be  summoned  :  "  the  sea  shall 
 give  up  her  dead."  To  that  judgment,  the  graves 
 of  the  land  shall  surrender  :  "  Death  and  Hades 
 shall  deliver  up  the  dead  that  are  in  them."  To 
 that  judgment,  the  multitude  of  those  who  have 
 died  in  holiness,  and  been  borne  from  the  death- 
 bed into  Paradise,  shall  descend,  surrounding  the 
 King  of  saints  ;  but  not  to  be  judged.  They  have 
 been  purified  already  by  their  acceptance  of  the 
 atonement ;  they  are  already  the  children  of  the 
 Father ;  uniting  holiness  and  power,  kings  and 
 priests  to  God  for  ever.  Then,  the  system  of  the 
 Divine  sovereignty  having  been  cleared  before  the 
 7 
 
THE    FUTURE.  G27 
 
 great  assemblage  of  intellectual  existence ;  the 
 Atonement  having  fulfilled  its  whole  purpose  ;  the 
 attributes  of  the  Deity  having  fully  vindicated 
 their  origin  ;  the  last  words  shall  be  spoken  that 
 these  heavens  and  earth  shall  ever  hear.  He  who 
 pronounced  from  his  cross,  "It  is  finished,"  shall 
 pronounce  it  from  his  throne ;  and  "  the  heavens 
 and  the  earth  shall  pass  away,"  and  there  shall 
 be  a  "new  heaven  and  a  new  earth,  wherein 
 dwelleth  righteousness."  All  shall  be  mental 
 purity,  intellectual  vigour,  and  triumphant  joy. 
 The  redeemed  of  God  shall  enter  into  their  in- 
 heritance, and  prepare  for  new  scenes  of  the 
 grandeur  of  their  King  and  Redeemer ;  new  crea- 
 tions shall  rise  before  them ;  new  wonders  of  be- 
 nevolence shall  kindle  their  hearts  ;  new  develop- 
 ments of  power  shall  fill  their  minds  with  delighted 
 knowledge  ;  the  Eternal  King  shall  for  ever  pour 
 upon  them  some  new  successive  eff'ulgence  of  his 
 nature.     God  shall  be  all  in  all. 
 
 THE    END. 
 
 ss  '^ 
 
LONDON : 
 GII.BEKT  &   RIVINGTON,  PRINTERS, 
 
 ST.    J!)11N'!>    SQU,\RE. 
 
PUBLISlIi:i)   DY 
 
 JAMES    DUNCAN, 
 
 37,  pati:knosti:u-uo\v. 
 
 I 
 
 THE  WHOLE  WORKS  of  the  Right  Rev.  JEREMY  TAYLOR. 
 
 D.D  Lord  Bishop  of  Down,  Connor,  and  Dromore,  with  a  Life  of 
 the  Author,  and  a  Critical  Examination  of  his  Writings.  By  the 
 Right  Rev.  REGINALD  HEBER,  D.D.  late  Lord  Bishop  of  Cal- 
 cutta.    In  15  Volumes  8vo.  new  edition,  price  9/.  boards. 
 
 Also  may  he  had  separate,  by  the  same  Author, 
 
 1.  HOLY  LIVING  and  DYING.     8vo.  price  12s.  boards. 
 
 2.  A  COURSE  of  SERMONS  for  all  the  SUNDAYS  of  the 
 YEAR.     Two  Vols.  8vo.  price  24.v.  hoards. 
 
 3.  The  LIFE  of  the  Right  Rev.  JEREM\  TAYLOR.  In  One 
 Vol.  8vo.  with  a  Portrait,  price  lOs.  Grf.  boards. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE  WHOLE  WORKS  of  the  Most  Reverend  Father  in  God, 
 ROBERT  LEIGHTON,  D.D.  Archbishop  of  Glasgow.  To  which 
 is  prefixed  an  entire  new  Life  of  the  Author,  by  the  Rev.  J.  N.  1'e'^"- 
 so\,  M.A.  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  and  Chaplain  to  the  Most 
 Noble  the  Marquess  Wellesley.  In  Four  Vols.  Svo.  with  a  Portrait, 
 price  36«.  boards. 
 
 "  We  have  placed  a  new  edition  of  Archbishop  Leiphton's  Works  at  the 
 head  of  this  article ;  and  as  Mr.  Coleridge  had  neglected  to  furnish  the  bio- 
 graphical notice  he  had  promised,  we  shall  endeavour  to  supply  its  place  by  a 
 few  particulars  of  his  life  and  writings,  principally  extracted  from  a  spirited 
 and  eloquent  Memoir  prefixed  to  the  new  edition,  by  the  Rev.  Norman  Pear- 
 son It  is  a  reproach  to  the  present  ape,  that  his  valuable  writings,  breathing 
 as  they  do  the  sublimest  and  purest  spirit  of  piety,  rich  in  beautiful  images 
 and  classical  learning,  throughout  abounding  in  practical  reflections,  and  all 
 expressed  with  the  sweetest  and  simplest  eloquence,  should  have  been  neg- 
 lected among  us." — British  Critic. 
 
 •,*  The  above  may  be  had,  printed  in  a  small  but  neat  Type,  and 
 compressed  into  Two  Volumes,  jirice  21s.  boards. 
 
 HI. 
 A  PRACTICAL  COMMENTARY  upon  the  FIRST  EPISTLE 
 of  ST  PETER,  and  other  Expository  Works.  V>y  Kohkkt  Lkioh- 
 TON  b  D  Archbishop  of  (ilasgow.  To  which  is  pnhxcd  an  entire 
 new' Life  of  the  Author,  by  the  Rev.  J.  N.  Pearson,  M.A.  irimty 
 College,  Cambridge,  &c.  In  'Two  Volumes  Svo.  witli  I'ortrait,  |>rice 
 18s.  boards. 
 
 •,•  Compressed  into  One  Volume,  price  lOs.Gd.  boards. 
 
BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY    J.   DUNCAN. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The  WORKS  of  the  Right  Rev.  WILLIAM  BEVERIDGE,  D.D. 
 Lord  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  now  first  collected.  With  a  Memoir  of 
 the  Author,  and  a  Critical  Examination  of  his  Writings,  by  the  Rev. 
 Thomas  Hartwell  Horne,  B.D.  of  St.  John's  College,  Cam- 
 bridge; Author  of  the  "  Introduction  to  the  Holy  Scriptures."  In 
 Nine  Vols.  8vo.  with  a  Portrait,  uniform  with  the  Works  of  Bishop 
 Taylor,  price  bl.  8s.  boards. 
 
 V. 
 
 A  SECOND  COURSE  of  SERMONS  for  the  YEAR;  contain- 
 ing Two  for  each  Sunday,  and  One  for  each  Holyday ;  abridged  from 
 the  most  eminent  Divines  of  the  Established  Church,  and  adapted 
 to  the  Service  of  the  Day  :  intended  for  the  Use  of  Families  and 
 Schools.  Dedicated,  by  permission,  to  the  Lord  Bishop  of  London. 
 By  the  Rev.  J.  R.  Pitman,  A.  M.  alternate  Morning  Preacher  of 
 Belgrave  and  Berkeley  Chapels.  In  Two  Vols.  8vo.  price  21s.  boards. 
 
 "  There  is  no  question  which  the  Clergy  are  more  frequently  asked,  and  to 
 which  they  find  it  more  difficult  to  give  a  satisfactory  reply  than  this — What 
 Sermons  would  they  recommend  for  the  use  of  a  private  family  ?  There  are 
 so  many  circumstances  which  render  the  greater  part  of  modern  discourses 
 totally  unfit  for  the  purposes  of  domestic  instruction,  and  the  old  standards, 
 unmodernised,  are  so  little  intelligible  to  common  ears,  that  it  is  no  easy 
 matter  to  point  out  any  set  of  discourses  embracing  a  sufficient  variety  to  ex- 
 cite attention,  at  the  same  time  forcibly  inculcating  the  pure  doctrines  and 
 practical  precepts  of  Christianity.  We  really  think  that  Mr.  Pitman's  work 
 bids  fair  to  supply  the  deficiency  which  has  been  so  much  regretted." — 
 Quarterly  Theolog.  Review. 
 
 ***  A  Third  Edition,  revised  throughout,  of  the  FIRST  COURSE, 
 is  just  published,  same  size  and  price  as  above. 
 
 VI. 
 
 HISTORY  PHILOSOPHICALLY  ILLUSTRATED,  from  the 
 Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  to  the  French  Revolution.  By  George 
 Miller,  D.D.  M.R.I.  A.  formerly  Fellow  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin. 
 In  Four  Vols.  8vo.  price  2l.  2s.  boards. 
 
 "  The  general  style  of  these  volumes  is  honourable  to  the  author's  scholar- 
 ship :  it  is  remarkably  distinct,  vigorous,  and  free  from  superfluous  ornament; 
 but  in  parts  where  the  subject  admitted  of  the  change,  it  becomes  rich  and 
 eloquent.  The  brief  sketch  of  Grattan's  oratory,  towards  the  close  of  the 
 fourth  volume,  is  one  of  the  happiest  and  most  graphic  descriptions  that  we 
 have  ever  seen  of  that  singularly  powerful  speaker.  On  the  whole,  we  entirely 
 congratulate  the  author  and  the  public  on  the  completion  of  this  performance. 
 What  Montesquieu  accomplished  for  the  laws  of  E\irope,  Dr.  Miller  has  done 
 for  its  history.  We  know  of  no  text-book  which  would  be  more  essential  to 
 the  College  lecturer,  no  general  view  of  facts  which  is  likely  to  be  more  valu- 
 able to  the  student,  and  no  elucidation  of  the  mysterious  ways  of  Providence 
 which  ought  to  be  more  gladly  welcomed  by  the  Christian." — Literary  Ga- 
 zette, March  24,  1832. 
 
 VIL 
 
 THE  LAST  DAYS  of  our  LORD'S  MINISTRY ;  a  Course  of 
 Lectures  delivered  in  Trinity  Church,  Coventry.  By  the  Rev.  Wal- 
 ter Farquhaii  Hook,  M.A.  Prebendary  of  Lincoln,  Vicar  of  the 
 Parish  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  (voventr)',  and  Chaplain  in  Ordinary  to 
 his  Majesty.     In  One  Vol.  Bvo.  price  IDs.  6d.  boards. 
 
BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY    J.  DUNCAN. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE  REMAINS  of  WILLIAM  PIIELAN,  D.D. ;  with  a  Bio- 
 graphical Memoir.  By  John,  Bishop  of  Limerick,  Ardfert,  and 
 Aghadoe.     Second  Edition.     In  Two  Vols.  8vo.  price  2ls.  boards. 
 
 IX. 
 LIVES,  CHARACTERS,  and  an  ADDRESS  to  POSTERITY. 
 By  Gilbert  Burnet,  D.D.,  late  Bishop  of  Sarum  ;  edited,  with  an 
 Introduction  and  Notes,  by  John,  Bishop  of  Limerick,  Ardfert, 
 and  Aghadoe.  In  One  Vol.  8vo.  price  10s.  6c?.  boards,  and  small 
 8vo.  7s. 
 
 X. 
 
 PRACTICAL  THEOLOGY  ;  comprising  Discourses  on  the 
 Liturgy  and  Principles  of  the  United  Church  of  England  and  Ire- 
 land ;  critical  and  other  Tracts  ;  and  a  Speech  delivered  in  the  House 
 of  Peers  in  1824.  By  John  Jebh,  D.D.  F.R.S.,  Bishop  of  Limerick, 
 Ardfert,  and  Aghadoe.     In  Two  Vols.  8vo.  price  24s.  boards. 
 
 "  No  work  which  has  recently  fallen  into  our  hands  nnore  amply  fulfils  the 
 promise  of  its  title  than  that  now  before  us." — Quarterly  Theolog.  Review. 
 
 XI. 
 
 SACRED  LITERATURE  ;  comprising  a  Review  of  the  Prin- 
 ciples of  Composition  laid  down  by  the  late  Robert  Lowth,  D.D. 
 Lord  Bishop  of  London,  in  his  Praclections,  and  Isaiah  j  and  an 
 application  of  the  Principles  so  reviewed  to  the  Illustration  of  the 
 New  Testament ;  in  a  Series  of  Critical  Observations  on  the  Style 
 and  Structure  of  that  Sacred  Volume.  By  John  Jebb,  D.D.  F.R.S. 
 Bishop  of  Limerick,  Ardfert,  and  Aghadoe.  In  One  Vol.  8vo 
 New  Edition,  price  12s.  boards. 
 
 XII. 
 
 SERMONS  on  Subjects  chiefly  Practical ;  with  illustrative  Notes, 
 and  an  Appendix  relating  to  the  Character  of  the  Church  of  England, 
 as  distinguished  both  from  other  Branches  of  the  Reformation,  and 
 from  the  modern  Church  of  Rome.  By  John  Jebh,  D.D.  F.R.S. 
 Bishop  of  Limerick,  Ardfert,  and  Aghadoe.  Fourth  Edition,  cor- 
 rected.   In  One  Vol.  8vo.,  price  10s.  Ctd.  boards. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 PIETY  without  ASCETICISM,  or  the  PROTESTANT  KEM- 
 PIS ;  a  Manual  of  Christian  Faith  and  Practice,  selected  from  the 
 Writings  of  Scougal,  Charles  How,  and  Cudworth ;  with  Correc- 
 tions and  occasional  Notes.  By  JoH.N  Jebb,  D.D.  F.R.S.  Bishop  of 
 Limerick,  Ardfert,  and  Aghadoe.     In  One  Vol.  price  12s.  boards. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 PASTORAL  INSTRUCTIONS  on  the  CHARACTER  and 
 PRINCIPLES  of  the  CHURCH  of  ENGLAND,  selected  from  his 
 former  Writings.  By  John  Jebb,  D.D.  F.R.S.  Bishop  of  Limerick, 
 Ardfert,  and  Aghadoe.     In  One  ^'olume,  price  7*'-  boards. 
 
BOOKS    PUBLISHED    BY    J.   DUNCAN. 
 
 XV. 
 
 MEMORIALS  of  the  PROFESSIONAL  LIFE  and  TIMES  of 
 Sir  WILLIAM  PENN,  Knight,  Admiral  and  General  of  the  Fleet 
 during  the  Interregnum;  Admiral,  and  Commissioner  of  the  Admi- 
 ralty and  Navy  after  the  Restoration.  From  1644  to  1670.  By 
 Granville  Penn,  Esq.     In  Two  Vols.  8vo. 
 
 Also,  edited  by  the  same  Author, 
 XVI. 
 
 THE  CHARACTER  of  a  TRIMMER.  His  Opinion  of,  1.  The 
 Laws  and  Government;  2.  Protestant  Religion;  3.  The  Papists; 
 4.  Foreign  Affairs.  By  the  Honourable  Sir  William  Coventry, 
 Knight.     First  printed  in  1687- 
 
 XVII. 
 
 THE  YEAR  of  LIBERATION ;  a  Journal  kept  at  Hamburgh 
 in  181.3,  the  Period  of  the  Battles  of  Lutzen,  Bautzen,  and  Leipsic. 
 In  Two  Vols.  8vo.  price  18*.  boards. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 A  SCRIPTURAL  COMMENTARY  on  the  BOOK  of  GENE- 
 SIS and  the  GOSPEL  according  to  ST.  MATTHEW  ;  comprising 
 the  sacred  Text  of  these  Books,  with  most  copious  marginal  Refe- 
 rences annexed  to  each  Clause  of  each  Verse,  in  the  Words  of  Scrip- 
 ture. By  the  Rev.  Charles  Lambert  Coghlan,  D.D.  Vicar  of 
 Kilcaskin  in  the  Diocese  of  Ross.  In  Two  Vols.  Svo.  price  24s. 
 boards. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 MAHOMETANISM  UNVEILED  :  an  Inquiry  in  which  that 
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 principle,  tending  to  confirm  the  Evidences,  and  aid  the  Propagation 
 of  the  Christian  Faith.  By  the  Rev.  Charles  Forster,  B.D., 
 Chancellor  of  Ardfert,  and  Examining  Chaplain  to  the  Lord  Bishop 
 of  Limerick.     In  Two  Vols.  Svo.  24s.  boards. 
 
 "  The  reader  will  find  the  subject  of  the  Ishmaelitish  descent  of  the  Arabian 
 treated  in  a  clear  and  convincing  manner  by  Mr.  Forster,  in  his  learned  and 
 valuable  work,  Mahometanism  Unveiled." — Quarterly  Review,  No.  83. 
 
 "  From  the  novelty  of  the  view  which  is  thus  given  of  Mahometanism,  and 
 the  ability  displayed  by  the  author,  we  shall  be  greatly  mistaken  if  a  serious 
 discussion  of  the  whole  subject  be  not  revived  among  the  learned  men  of  the 
 country." — Monthly  Review. 
 
 A.A . 
 
 BIBLIA  HEBRAICA,  Editio  longe  Accuratissima.  Ab  Eve- 
 kardo  Van  der  Hooght,  V.D.M.  In  One  large  Vol.  Svo.  (1200 
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 It  has  been  the  particular  object  of  the  Publisher  to  offer  to  the  Public  a 
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(