3 
 
 
 BOOK 239 9B38 c 1 
 
 BEARD § RELIGION OF JESUS THRict 
 
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THE 
 
 RELIGION OF JESUS CHRIST . l 
 
 DEFENDED FROM THE ASSAULTS 
 
 OF 
 
 OWENISM. 
 
 IN NINE LECTURES. 
 
 BY J. R. BEARD. 
 
 LONDON: 
 SIMPKIN, MARSHALL AND COMrAXY 
 
 AVD 
 
 SMALLFIELD AND SON. 
 MANCHESTER: FORREST AND FOGG. 
 
 1839. 
 
y 
 
 7-^ 
 
5. 
 
 TO 
 
 HIS RESPECTED FRIEND, 
 
 THE REV. JOSEPH HUTTON, L.L.D. 
 
 THESE LECTURES 
 
 <^ ARE INSCRIBED 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN R. BEARD, 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 OwENiSM is the form in which the broken and scattered 
 forces of Infidelity, not long since marshalled under the 
 leadership of Taylor and Carlile, have rallied and found 
 a temporary refuge and support. The degree of success 
 which has attended on the efforts of its advocates, is 
 owing, not more to the zeal they employ, than to the 
 appeal they make to the deep dissatisfaction which ex- 
 ists among some of the working classes, against the reli- 
 gious opinions and institutions which prevail in society ; 
 a dissatisfaction which, arising in the main from actual 
 religious corruptions, is nurtured and sustained by ma- 
 terials supplied from the works of Foltaire and Paine. 
 Unhappily, such is the want of information in the mass 
 of the people, that a self-confident and daring appeal to 
 their passions and prejudices, their discontent and social 
 discomforts, is sure of meeting with acceptance ; and 
 can, in many cases, hardly fail of divesting the mind of 
 its religious impressions. 
 
 The following Lectures were prepared and delivered 
 by the writer, in the hope of contributing some, how- 
 ever small, a means of checking the career of a system 
 which, of all others, is, both in principle and in spirit, 
 most hostile to religion. The aim has been, not merely 
 to repel the attacks which Owenism has made, but to 
 follow out one or two lines of the evidence on which the 
 
religion of Jesus rests, and to present some views of it 
 which appear to the author as acceptable to the intel- 
 lect and the heart, as they are in unison with the teach- 
 ings and the spirit of its divine founder. This remark is 
 not to be understood as if the writer thought he had 
 ofifered any thing in which the well-informed and culti- 
 vated Christian would discover novelty : it is enough 
 for him if he has been able to present religion to the less 
 informed, in a shape disencumbered of the repulsive 
 dress in which it too commonly appears. 
 
 Nor does he profess to have exhausted any one of the 
 topics of Christian truth on which he has written, for 
 lie considered it his duty to give a preference to those 
 trains of thought and feeling which were least likely to 
 encounter opposition, in the circumstances of the case. 
 
 There is a large and a most valuable class of persons — the 
 teachers in our Sunday schools — who, by their position 
 and connexions, are much exposed to the assaults of the 
 partisans of Socialist infidelity, and whom it is of higli 
 importance to furnish with some means of self-defence. 
 If any of them, and, indeed, any of our working po- 
 pulation, sliould find suitable information in tins small 
 volume, the chief object of its autlior will be answered, 
 •ind one of his highest wishes irrntificd. 
 
 Salford, February, 1839. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 LECT. 1 — The authority of the Christian Scriptures 
 
 explained and asserted 3 
 
 — — < 2. — Christianity distinguished from its connip- 
 tions 25 
 
 3.— Persecution not sanctioned, but condemned 
 
 by the religion of Christ..... 49 
 
 ' 4. — The Atheistical tendencies of Owenism 
 
 exposed 73 
 
 5. — Man's Character formed by and for him 97 
 
 6. — Man a responsible being 121 
 
 7. — Owenism destructive to the existence, vir- 
 tues, and happiness of Home 145 
 
 8.— Claims of Jesus Christ to love and reverence 169 
 
 9. — Beneficial influence of the religion of Jesus 
 
 Christ 193 
 
 Notes and Illustrations 217 
 
LECTURE I 
 
 Among the manifold evils of our present manufacturing 
 and commercial systems, there are results which are not 
 to be deplored in themselves, and which give promise 
 of eventuating in a manner highly satisfactory to the 
 friends of humanity. So long as the working classes 
 were scattered over the country in agricultural pursuits, 
 or here and there gathered in small numbers in our 
 cities and towns, their minds, wanting collision and 
 im])ulse, remained more or less torpid, and, in very 
 rare instances only, rose to the dignity of individual 
 thinking. Mental power was, in consequence, the heri- 
 tage of the few whom nature and education favoured, 
 and who were thus enabled to use the great bulk of the 
 people as their passive instruments. No sooner, how- 
 ever, did the mechanical discoveries which have dis- 
 tinguished the last half century begin to bring masses 
 of men together into one place, than the natural con- 
 sequence ensued, in activity and fermentation of mind; 
 the immense power of production of which the people 
 found themselves capable, in conjunction with machinery, 
 led to the formation, on their part, of a high estimate of 
 their individual and social importance, which not only 
 prompted an enquiry into their condition and their 
 rights, but also encouraged that action of their mental 
 faculties, which could not fail to augment their mental 
 
power, and give a deep earnestness and intensity to 
 their enquiries. 
 
 The result of their investigations could not be other- 
 wise than highly unsatisfactory to the people. The 
 might which slumbered in a peasant's mind had been 
 suddenly awakened ; — to behold what ? A social posi- 
 tion no less vicious than artificial ; — a position which had, 
 indeed, lost the outward bonds of the serfism of darker 
 ages, but retained too many of its necessary conse- 
 quences. The body had been freed from actual chains, 
 but remained enslaved to social customs and necessities 
 which kept the mind inert, made the affections gross, 
 and held he spirit in the fetters of superstition. The 
 privileged orders, having wielded the power of the state 
 and conciliated the efficient co-operation of the priest- 
 hood, had secured to themselves the greater portion of 
 the good things of the land, and left to the many scarcely 
 more than the crumbs which fell from their table. And 
 although, in the new creation of wealth to which the 
 manufacturing impulse gave birth, the few were com- 
 pelled, as the essential condition of their own aggrandize- 
 ment, to allow the people no inconsiderable share, yet 
 it was found, such was the inequality of social arrange- 
 ments — that the great current of influence bore in 
 favour of the opulent and the elevated, and to the 
 detriment of the humble labourer. Here, then, we have, 
 in the same mind, a sense of social disqualification and 
 a consciousness of power: we have, in face of each 
 other, ancient institutions and observances which favour 
 the few, and deep and powerful discontent which 
 demands the rights of the many. Such discontent could 
 not be expected to be very discriminating in its judg- 
 ments, and it therefore came to look with an eye of 
 jealousy on every thing connected, whether accidentally 
 or otherwise, with the causes to which it owed its 
 existence. A species of class morality, therefore, has 
 
arisen, which not only frowns with a threatening brow on 
 existing social inequalities, but arrays itself in hostility 
 against our domestic relations and our religious convic- 
 tions. * Ofve7iism' is not least among the consequences 
 of this state of things. 
 
 Born of a spirit of philanthropy brooding over our 
 social evils, it stands up in stern opposition alike to 
 the good and the bad in our actual condition, and while 
 its mission is to remedy the one, proceeds most unwisely 
 to destroy the other. Its real and proper antagonist is 
 the feudalism in which society is still deeply embedded, 
 but -its blows are indiscriminately aimed at the very 
 religion which has taken from that feudalism some of 
 its worst qualities, and will, I have no doubt, work 
 society free from its direful evils. 
 
 From these remarks it will be gathered, that I enter- 
 tain no hostility to any rational attempt which the people 
 may make with a view to better their condition. On 
 the contrary, I wish them every success; and though I 
 have my doubts whether the economical arrangements 
 proposed for adoption in the * New Moral World,' would 
 prove much better than delusions, yet so fully aware am 
 I of the infelicity of the actual condition of the people, 
 and so firmly am I convinced that their salvation must, 
 in the main, be wrought out by themselves, and moreover, 
 so well do I augur of at least the indirect results of any 
 honest and earnest effort after social improvement, that 
 I, for one, not only have no quarrel with the disciples of 
 the ' New Moral World,' in their attempts to better their 
 condition and the condition of the many, but can do no 
 other than look with interest and hope on their undertak- 
 ing. But when I find that, in pursuit of their proposed 
 social reforms, they strike at what I consider the most 
 sacred principles of religious and moral truth, I feel an 
 impulse which I cannot resist, to assume a defensive 
 position ; and while I attempt to shield important truth 
 
 A 2 
 
6 
 
 from the rude assaults of error, to utter a voice of warn- 
 ing to those, and especially the young, who, in their zeal 
 to effect social ameliorations, are hurried onwards into 
 the dark gulf of moral and religious infidelity. And it 
 is far more in a spirit of sorrow^ than of anger, of that 
 charity which loves humanity too well to be harsh even 
 in the exposure of its most injurious errors, that I would 
 address myself to the task. I am not unaware of the 
 influence of the circumstances in which I am placed, and 
 on that very account I entertain a hope, that in proceed- 
 ing to offer some defence of the religion of Jesus Christ, 
 I have no prejudices to gratify, no interests to serve but 
 those of truth, and no desire but to benefit my fellow- 
 creatures. What I shall present to your consideration 
 will be my own honest convictions, and though you may 
 conclude by thinking me wrong, I trust you will have 
 no reason to declare me perverse. I claim no authority 
 but such as truth may be found to confer, and appeal to 
 no tribunal but the faculties and sympatliios with which 
 my hearers are endowed. Give an impartial, if not a 
 favourable hearing to what I advance ; let it enter as an 
 element into your considerations ; carry on your enquiries 
 with diligence ; deal honestly and faithfully with evidence ; 
 judge calmly; determine cautiously; keep your minds ever 
 open to new light, and disallow every authority but that 
 of your own convictions. The result must be beneficial. 
 
 My business is, to defend the religion of Jesus Christ 
 against the assaults of what is termed Orvenism. It may 
 be well, therefore, in the outset, to say a few words in 
 explanation, respecting these two influences. 
 
 It is the religion of Jesus Christ that I propose to 
 defend. You will understand that I make a distinction 
 between tlie religion of Jesus Christ, and prevalent 
 Christianity, To prevalent Christianity I am in no way 
 pledged, and the defence of it I leave to its adherents. 
 The attachment I profess is to none of the outward, to 
 
none of the popular forms of Christianity, but to that 
 view of the rehgion of Christ which I have been led to 
 form. It is only my own convictions that I can be 
 expected to maintain; and if those convictions either 
 agree not with the opinions of other professed Christians, 
 or prove less open to the shafts of the unbeliever, I can 
 have no other feelings but one of regret, that my fellow- 
 disciples should, in my mind, be involved in error ; and 
 of rejoicing, that I have found a path of security as well 
 as of confidence. And I cannot but add, that I deplore 
 the fact that while all true philanthropists may find in 
 the religion of Jesus both light and impulse for their 
 divine engagements, the constructor of the ' New Moral 
 World' should have not merely thrown away the power 
 which it would have given him, but arrayed himself in 
 an attitude of most determined hostility to its truth and 
 influence. Such, however, is the fact, for Owenism pre- 
 sents itself as the dire antagonist of the religion of Jesus. 
 Whether or not its author has ever studied that religion 
 in its own unadulterated qualities, I am unable to say, 
 but certainly his hostility is as indiscriminating as it is 
 decided. To no small extent, indeed, is Owenism, in its 
 bearing on religion and morality, an attempt to erase all 
 the impressions which hold the first rank in the religion 
 of Christ. It sets aside, with no gentle hand, the dis- 
 closures which it makes respecting the Deity, a future 
 life, man's responsibility, and the sanctity of marriage, 
 and ascribes to the prevalence of the Christian religion 
 most cf the evils which infest society. ' In one thousand 
 eight hmdred and eighteen,' I quote 'Mr. Owen's words, 
 ' I procliimed that ignorance and error, crime and folly, 
 had their sources in the different religions of the world.* 
 * I now dejounce the marriages of the old world, as i 
 then denounced its religions.'* 
 
 * ' The Marriage System,' p. 13. 
 
Such, in brief, is the character of the assailant whom 
 I would endeavour to repel. I offer no apology for entering 
 on a task, which, howsoever unpleasant, the actual condi- 
 tion of society, at least in this vicinity, seems to render 
 necessary ; and if I can succeed in rescuing- one person 
 from the demoralising tendency of this new philosophy, 
 or show one person a safer and more useful path, I 
 shall consider my efforts not ill rewarded. 
 
 The course of Lectures on which I am entering, is 
 laid out so as to embrace the chief points on which 
 Owenism appears as the assailant of the religion of 
 Christ. As a basis of my observations, I take my stand 
 on the Christian Scriptures; and their authority, in con- 
 sequence, I am in the first place required to assert. 
 
 You will observe that it is the Christian, not the 
 Jewish Scriptures, with which I have to do. I am a 
 Christian, not a Jew ; I defend the religion of Christ, 
 not that of Moses. These Scriptures are various in kind, 
 put forth by different authors, at different times, and for 
 purposes more or loss dissimilar in each case. Some are 
 histories — some are letters. The histories it is which 
 profess to give an account of what Jesus taught and did ; 
 and on that account, and also for the sake of definiteness 
 in ray remarks, I shall confine myself to the explanation 
 and defence of their authority. 
 
 Let me premise, that we must not look for a kind of 
 evidence of which the subject does not admit. It is one 
 of the evils of the want of a good system of pooular 
 education, that in a case of such consequence ss the 
 authority of the Christian Scriptures, persons Ivive, in 
 each individual instance, to be the judges, who lave not 
 been accustomed to similar enquiries, and are therefore 
 scarcely in a condition to recognise the features of truth, 
 or to discriminate truth from falsehood. A mind that 
 has been trained to investigations into the genuineness 
 of ancient books, is at once more likely K> be satisfied 
 
with sufficient evidence, and less likely to be deluded by- 
 false appearances. One thing, however, must be borne 
 in mind, — that the question in regard to the authority 
 of the Gospels is as much an historical one, as the ques- 
 tion relatively to the authenticity of Cicero's Letters, or 
 Virgil's Poems : the question in both cases is substantially 
 the same, involving similar enquiries, depending on simi- 
 lar evidence, and leading to similar results. You may 
 therefore enter on the subject of the authority of the 
 Gospels without any of those prejudices which are apt 
 to rise, in some minds, at the idea of religious investiga- 
 tions. There is no requirement of implicit faith, of belief 
 without evidence, or of assent to mere authority. The 
 Gospels are histories ; and by the laws which determine 
 the trustworthiness of histories in general, must they, be 
 tried. We but ask for the same measures of judgment 
 in their case, as are observed in respect of any other 
 ancient writing. If they are unable to abide this test, 
 let them be disallowed ; but, equally, let not a less impar- 
 tial and a more rigid tribunal be erected for them, than 
 that by which other histories are tried. 
 
 In thus considering the Gospels as histories, I forego 
 the claim of infallibility which some Christians have 
 preferred, on the ground of an alleged inspiration on the 
 part of the Deity, which dictated to the writers, not 
 merely the facts, but the words of the narration. For 
 myself, I can find no warrant for such a claim. The books 
 themselves make no such pretension. The authors 
 do not declare themselves inspired. On the contrary, 
 the books present every appearance which history 
 ordinarily wears, and the writers profess to found their 
 statements on such human knowledge as they had of 
 themselves, or acquired from others. Why then should 
 we force upon them a claim to which they prefer no 
 title ? Nay, nothing but an irrational and undue reve- 
 rence can have suggested, or can still uphold, a charac- 
 
10 
 
 ter which, Hke that of infalUbility, is exploded by the 
 unquestionable errors and discrepancies which are 
 found in the narratives. Into illustrations of these 
 statements this is not the time to enter. I make them 
 in order that it may be distinctly understood, that I 
 really consider the Gospels as histories, and would have 
 them judged by the ordinary rules of historical criticism. 
 If, then, this is their character, all I am concerned to 
 substantiate is, that they contain a narrative of real 
 events ; and you effect nothing against my position by 
 adducing evidence to show that any one of these histo- 
 ries presents mistakes, and that all, taken together and 
 in comparison, offer diversities in some parts of their 
 narrative. Where is the history of which the same may 
 not be affirmed ? What event, at all complex in its 
 nature, have any two historians narrated in precisely the 
 same manner? Each writer has his own point of view, 
 perhaps his own particular object, which, if he were 
 liable to no errors from the infirmity of his nature, 
 would of a necessity make his story in some respects 
 different from that of a fellow-labourer. And so far 
 are the few diversities which are found in the histories 
 of Christ from invalidating their authority, that they 
 serve to show that no collusion existed between the 
 writers, that each gave his own independent testimony 
 to the facts in question. Were there no errors in these 
 books, we should have to deny their purely historical 
 character; and were there no diversities, we might not 
 unreasonably suspect some plan for imposing on man- 
 kind. All, then, that 1 could even wish to establish is, 
 that the Gospel histories are substantially true. Agree- 
 ment in material points, with diversity and even discre- 
 pancy in minor details, are the essential conditions of 
 historical truth. Such are the qualities by which th« 
 canonical histories of Christ arc distinguished ; and so 
 far arc these qualities from impeaching their trust- 
 
11 
 
 worthiness, that in their case, as in every other, thejr 
 are no slight presumption that the books contain an 
 account of real events. The objection, therefore, of the 
 unbeliever is converted into an evidence in their favour. 
 Now in respect of ancient works in general, the deci- 
 sion of the learned respecting their genuineness is con- 
 sidered satisfactory. Those whose lives are given to 
 study, are held, and properly held, to be not only the 
 best, but the only competent judges in such a matter. 
 What working man thinks of inquiring into the author- 
 ship of Xenophon's Life of Socrates, or Gibbon's History 
 of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire ? Paine's 
 Age of Reason is received without a suspicion that it was 
 not written by the person to whom it is ascribed. I 
 hear no doubts expressed of the authorship of ' The Book 
 of the New Moral World.' Socialists receive, as much 
 without a suspicion as without enquiry, the very works 
 on whose authority they are wont to assail the Gospel 
 histories. Why should an opposite course be pursued 
 in relation to the histories of Christ ? If the sanction of 
 the learned — if common repute is considered sufficient 
 in one case, I see not why those who have at the best 
 very insufficient means of judging, should act in a reverse 
 manner in respect of the other. Let it not be supposed 
 that I am attempting to deprecate enquiry. I only wish 
 that you should not be partial in your conduct. The 
 enquiry has been made — made under the most diverse 
 influences— made of old, and in modern times, by enemies 
 as well as friends — by enemies whom few in these days 
 can surpass in virulence, and none equal in opportunities ; 
 and the result is, that th» trust-worthiness of the books 
 has not been overthrown. Why, then, should the question 
 still be mooted ? Why should their truth be still made 
 an open question? — especially by those who, at the best, 
 can possess only very partial knowledge, and scarcely 
 any experience, on such a matter ? At all events, if the 
 
12 
 
 subject must be kept perpetually under debate, let the 
 question be made general, let your enquiries be into the 
 evidence by which the trust-worthiness of all ancient 
 works is ascertained. This is, in fairness, required. A 
 spirit of scepticism may easily find, or make, grounds of 
 suspicion. Who knows that even such a person as Mr. 
 Paine ever existed ? — or can place it beyond the possi- 
 biHty of a question that he wrote ' The Age of Reason? ' 
 Were I to deny both. Socialists might find the proof 
 more diflficult than they think ; but they would have no 
 right to complain of the application to themselves of the 
 same argumentative measures, as they apply to the 
 records of the Christian history. The wonders which 
 characterise the career of Napoleon may each be made, 
 in the hands of an inveterate doubter, or a skilful critic, 
 so many grounds for denying his existence, and for im- 
 peaching the truth of the narratives in which the impro- 
 babilities of his history are found recorded.* Let unbe- 
 lief, then, hold an even balance. Let her take up a 
 consistent position ; let her question, or deny, the credi- 
 bility of all the productions of former days ; and soon 
 would she find, by her investigations, that there is far 
 less evidence in favor of most of these works, than for 
 the histories of Christ. But, in reality, the decision of 
 the learned, whether for or against the authenticity of 
 ancient works, is altogether worthy of our confidence, 
 and by no means least worthy in respect of the Gospels. 
 It cannot be denied that the Evangelical histories 
 are in existence ; as little can it be denied that their 
 existence can be traced back into the first ages of 
 
 * ' Historic Doubts relative to Napoleon Buonaparte,' puHished 
 anonymously, .but since acknowledged by Archbishop Whateley; 'in 
 which it was shown that the existence of that extraordinary person 
 could not, on Hume's principles, be received as a wcll-authenticatcJ 
 fact, since it rests on evidence less strong than tha which supports tha 
 Scripture hiatories.'— H'^«ft7ty< Zoytc, p. 31. 
 
13 
 
 Christianity. Now what but their value should have 
 led to their preservation ? What but its value preserves 
 any work from oblivion ? A manuscript is not a temple, 
 nor a mountain, to withstand the ravages of time. Few 
 things are of a more perishable nature. Why have the 
 poems of Homer been transmitted to the present day ? 
 Would men take any account of that which they judged 
 worthless ? The Gospels, then, have come down to us 
 because men set a high estimate on their contents. But 
 how could they have formed such an estimate, unless 
 they had reason to believe in the substantial truth of 
 their narrations ? It is altogether a mistake to suppose 
 that they were the fabrication of priests, or that ihey 
 were at the first under the special care of a priesthood. 
 This may have been the case with the sacred books of other 
 nations ; it is not the case with the Christian histories. 
 Their writers, as well as the distinguished personage of 
 whom they write, were the moral and spiritual reformers 
 of their day, and the books were universally received by 
 poor and uneducated Christians long before they came 
 into the keeping of a clergy. How could these poor 
 and uneducated people have been led at first to receive 
 them as of authority, and to transmit them from father 
 to son, except they had been satisfied that they really 
 were what they professed to be ? Consider them as 
 fabrications, and you have the miracle to account for, 
 that men and women in all parts of the civilised world, 
 agreed from the first, and in subsequent ages, to receive 
 and preserve with pious care, that of whose trust- 
 worthiness they knew nothing. Spurious narratives 
 did indeed exist ; but their spuriousness was known, 
 their authority disallowed. The tares were separated 
 from the wheat, and that, too, not by any clerical deci- 
 sion, but by the general voice of believers. The ground 
 of their condemnation was that they were not generally 
 received. They fell into neglect and soon passed into 
 an almost total oblivion, because they wanted the sanc- 
 
 B 
 
14 
 
 tion of the earliest ages, and presented incongruities 
 with the universally received accounts. 
 
 Nor are you to suppose that the preservation of these 
 books was an easy matter. It had to be effected in 
 face of the most determined and deadly opposition. 
 Property and life were perilled, and not seldom lost, in 
 the attempt. In fact, it was not by, but in opposition 
 to a priesthood, a most powerful, unscrupulous and 
 persecuting priesthood — that of Paganism, that 
 they were kept from destruction. It is equally true 
 that there were causes which might have set them 
 aside within as well as without the church. From the 
 earliest ages, great diversities of opinion have agitated 
 the communities of Christians. Yet were these books 
 universally received, and their essential integrity was 
 maintained in all parts of the Christian world, in the 
 East, the West, the North, the South. Whatever 
 yarieties of opinion obtained, and how eager soever any 
 party were for the establishment of their own notions, 
 all were uniform in their sanction of the Gospel histories, 
 and none impeached the authority to which their antago- 
 nists appealed. And when you call to mind the bitterness 
 which sectarianism has always evinced, how — except on 
 the supposition of the unquestionableness of the authority 
 of these narratives, can you account for this universal 
 agreement ? Those who had not only the best opportu- 
 nity, but also most stringent reasons for invalidating 
 the authority, or putting an end to the existence of these 
 histories — the sectaries within the Church, and the 
 heathen without, were unable to set them aside ; and 
 well therefore may we receive works which have passed 
 safely through so fiery an ordeal. Indeed, in the whole 
 circle of ancient literature there never were books which 
 encountered so much hostility, or stood so severe a test; 
 nor are there any for which there is either so much, so 
 diversified, or so concurring testimony. Disallow tlio 
 dospels ; you have no prroiind on whicii to believe any 
 historical narrative whatever. Whatever opinion you 
 
15 
 
 may entertain of particular passages in the Gospels, or 
 whatever theory you may hold respecting their origin, 
 you cannot — except you are ignorant or wilful, or except 
 you are prepared to erase the memory of the past — you 
 cannot refuse to receive these histories as containing, in 
 the main, an account of the teachings and doings of 
 Christ. 
 
 Again ; the existence of the Christian religion is an 
 undoubted fact. Its influence can be followed up as the 
 course of a river from the ocean to its mountain bed. 
 An origin it must have had. Can any other be assigned 
 than that which is presented in the Christian histories ? 
 Does profane history present a different explanation of 
 the event ? Christianity may have arisen in a compara- 
 tively obscure part of the world, but it very soon forced 
 itself on the attention of the Roman Empire, and ere 
 long levelled its superstitions with the dust. It is an 
 historical fact, that before the end of the first century 
 its prevalence became an object of earnest solicitude to 
 the Emperors of Rome themselves, and that its professors 
 were subjected to penalties and persecution at the hands 
 of Roman governors. Can you believe that the priests 
 and the learned men were blind or indifferent to its rise 
 and progress ? If they could have exploded its preten- 
 sions, had they not the will ? And whose ability equal 
 to theirs ? Argument would have been a more effectual 
 weapon than the prison, or death. And if violence was 
 employed, we may be well assured that reason was either 
 wanting, or proved insufficient. Now what more easy, 
 if the Christian histories contained an imposture, than 
 for the Roman authorities to have had it detected, and 
 to have had the real facts recorded in the pages of con- 
 temporary history ? Was this course pursued ? Does 
 contemporary history present a different account from 
 wliat we find in the Gospels ? On the contraiy, the 
 historian Tacitus and the historian Matthew agree in 
 the main facts which narrate the origin of Christianity, 
 though of course they vary in the coloring which they 
 
16 
 
 throw around them. Tacitus, who must have been bom 
 about twenty years after the death of Christ, inasmuch 
 as we know he married in the year 77, and in the years 
 88 and 97 had attained the highest offices which a subject 
 could hold in the state — Tacitus, in speaking- of the crime 
 of the Emperor Nero in setting the city on fire, which 
 was done in the year 64, about the very time when the 
 Gospels were written, uses these words — words in which 
 the rise and progress of Christianity are recorded in 
 exact accordance with the accounts in our books ; — ' To 
 suppress, therefore, this common rumor (of having set 
 the city on fire) Nero procured others to be accused, and 
 inflicted exquisite punishment upon those people who 
 were in abhorrence for their crimes, and were commonly 
 known by the name of Christians. They had their 
 denomination from Christus, who, in the reign of Tibe- 
 rius, was put to death as a criminal by the Procurator, 
 Pontius Pilate. This pernicious superstition, though 
 checked for a while, broke out again, and spread not 
 only over Judaea, the source of this evil, but reached the 
 city also; whither flow, from all quarters, all things vile 
 and shameful, and where they find shelter and encourage- 
 ment. At first, they only were apprehended who con- 
 fessed themselves of the sect ; afterwards a vast multitude, 
 discovered by them : all which were condemned, not so 
 much for the crime of burning the city, as for their 
 enmity to mankind. Their executions were so contrived, 
 as to expose them to derision and contempt. Some were 
 covered over with tlie skins of wild beasts, and torn to 
 pieces by dogs ; some were crucified ; others, having 
 been daubed over with combustible materials, were set 
 up as lights in the night-time, and thus burned to death. 
 Nero made use of his own gardens as a theatre upon the 
 occasion, and also exhibited the diversions of the circus, 
 sometimes standing in the crowd as a spectator, in the 
 habit of a charioteer, at other times driving a chariot 
 himself: till at length, these men, though really criminal, 
 and deserving exemplar}' punishment, began to be com- 
 
17 
 
 miserated, as a people who were destroyed not out of 
 regard to the public welfare, but only to gratify the 
 cruelty of one man.' * Divers facts,' says the learned 
 and judicious Lardner, ' of the evangelical history are 
 here attested : that our Saviour was put to death as a 
 malefactor by Pontius Pilate, Procurator under Tiberius; 
 that from Christ the people called Christians had their 
 name and sentiments ; that this superstition or religion 
 had its rise in Judaea, where also it spread, notwith- 
 standing the ignominious death of the founder of it, and 
 the opposition which his followers met with from the 
 people of that country afterwards ; that thence it was 
 propagated into other parts of the world, and as far as 
 Rome, where, in the tenth or eleventhyear of Nero, and 
 before, (that is, about 30 years after the crucifixion of 
 Christ) Christians were very numerous ; and that the 
 professors of this religion were reproached and hated, 
 and underwent many and grievous sufferings. Certainly, 
 the great number of Christians at Rome at this time, and 
 their sufferings, are two things very observable.'* 
 
 Did time permit, it would be easy to show, from the 
 collections made by the same impartial and indefatigable 
 writer whose words I have just cited, that the civil and 
 social state of Judaea, as described or implied in the 
 Christian histories, corresponds not only in leading cir- 
 cumstances, but in minute details, with what we know 
 it was in the first century, from the evidence of inde- 
 pendent witnesses. Were this the place, I might 
 also prove, from the peculiarities of dialect in which 
 these histories are. penned, that they were written in 
 Judeea, within the first century, by persons who must 
 have been Jews, and that they could not have been 
 produced under any other circumstances. Such, then, 
 being the case — as these histories are thus found to cor- 
 respond in essential particulars with unquestionable 
 facts, and to give an account which is known to be 
 
 ♦ Vol. 6^ p. 628 ; Edition 1827. 
 B 2 
 
18 
 
 true, and as no other account of the rise and progress of 
 Christianity is in being, do they not prefer a strong 
 claim to be considered trust-worthy, and can we justi- 
 fiably supersede them, without doing an injury to the 
 authority of history in general ? 
 
 Then open any one of the Gospel historians, and 
 neruse the narrative. If you have an impartial and a 
 practised eye, you cannot fail to discern numerous and 
 indubitable tokens of reality. Perhaps your mind, from 
 Us associations, is rather struck and offended with modes 
 of thought, and forms of speech, that are alien from 
 modern usage. But reflect a moment. Is not this very 
 objection a proof of the antiquity of the writing ? The 
 book is alleged to be nearly two thousand years old, and 
 to have been produced by a Jew, an unlearned Jew, who 
 professes to narrate the public history of a Jewish peasant. 
 What, under these circumstances, is it natural you 
 should find, but many things clothed in a foreign dress, 
 and even things 'hard to be understood'? Of course, 
 the age in which Jesus appeared — as every age — had its 
 peculiar phraseology, its manner of seeing human duties 
 and relations, its rationale of disease, its philosophy, 
 and its errors. It was not these things which Jesus 
 came to correct, but to pour a new stream of moral and 
 spiritual life into the heart of the world. And in the 
 execution of his work, he could do no other than employ 
 the current moulds into which thought and speech had 
 run. Opposition enough — opposition that ended in his 
 death — he called forth by his moral efforts; had he also 
 attempted to correct every mistake of a popular philoso- 
 phy, and ' run a tilt' at every erroneous word he encoun- 
 tered, he would effectually have barred himself out from 
 the minds of his countrymen, and even failed to have 
 his language and his purpose comprehended. He took, 
 as he was compelled to do, existing phraseology as he 
 found it, and based thereon the instructions which were 
 the foundation of his kingdom, and the principles of a 
 great social and moral reform. In this he did no more 
 
19 
 
 than every teacher of new doctrines must do. Our own 
 language is full of the relics of an exploded philosophy. 
 We still speak of the rising and the setting of the sun. 
 We still use words which imply that madness is caused 
 by the moon, or the influence of the souls of the departed 
 in the bodies of the living ; ' Lunacy ' implies the one, 
 * Maniac ' the other. The errors are gone, the phraseology 
 remains ; and perhaps some two thousands years hence, 
 should all our literature have perished but some three or 
 four brief histories, and some dozen letters, there may 
 arise men who will maintain that we were ignorant of 
 Astronomy, and visionaries respecting the origin of 
 mental disorder. Nay, should — which is not very pro- 
 bable — but should the sole surviving books be some from 
 the pen of Mr. Owen, a skilful critic would easily be 
 able to show, from his very language, that he labored 
 under the grossest errors. For instance, he is very much 
 given to make against his countrymen the charge of 
 hypocrisy. All who diflfer from him are hypocrites. 
 Now, in its original signification, this word hypocrite 
 denotes a player. So that the learned doubters of two 
 thousand years hence will bring against him the charge 
 of representing a whole nation as consisting of actors : 
 and those — if any — who undertake his defence, may 
 gravely adduce in his justification the authority of 
 Shakespeare, who declares in express terms, 
 
 ' All the world's a stage, 
 
 And all the men and women merely players.' 
 
 Or in your perusal of the history, you may feel 
 revolted at the accounts of miracles with which you 
 meet, and throw the book at once aside, as unworthy of 
 your notice. But do not be satisfied with a first view. 
 Go a little beyond the surface. Look into the details, 
 and the character of these miracles. I am mistaken if 
 you will not find in both reasons for hesitation. Here, 
 too, there are difficulties ; but the accounts, setting aside 
 for a moment, their miraculous nature, bear the impress 
 
20 
 
 of reality, in the naturalness and the minuteness of the 
 circumstances, as well as their general accordance with 
 the character and circumstances of the distinguished 
 personage who is represented as performing them. If 
 ever a course of action bore the form and pressure of 
 benevolence, it is the conduct of Jesus Christ in his 
 miraculous deeds ; and the true philanthropist, so far 
 from being averse to the exercise of this divine love, 
 could only wish that similar individual disorders in the 
 present age should be met by remedies of the same 
 efficacy. 
 
 But there is an historical fact for which we have to 
 give a reason. The Christian religion, promulgated in 
 a remote and despised corner of the world, under the 
 auspices of a few Jewish peasants, though resisted unto 
 death by the authorities of the land, and abandoned for 
 a time even by its own partizans, made its way, before its 
 founder had been dead more than half a century, into 
 the most civilized cities of the world, shook the temple 
 of a once omnipotent superstition to its base, awakenod 
 the anger of a predominant philosophy, stood in the arena 
 as a competitor for universal empire, and ere long took 
 its Beat on the throne of the Cccsars. Look at the mean- 
 ness of its origin, the impotence of its instruments, and 
 the rapidity and grandeur of its triumphs ; look at the 
 array of powers which were set to crush it; and then say, 
 if, in the calmness of your mind, you can account for 
 its prevalence in the first ages, apart from the admission 
 of miraculous assistance. You are a philosopher, and 
 know that every effect requires an adequate cause. Ex- 
 plain this eflfect, without the supposition of supernatural 
 agency. To do so, history, experience, tiie principles of 
 human nature, afford you no competent aid ; and where 
 the learning, power of intellect, and covert malice of a 
 Oibbon have failed, you may well find it impossible to 
 addufo any reasons which, though designed to set aside 
 the influence of miracle, shall not carry the reflecting 
 
21 
 
 mind back to it as the cause of your alleged, but insuf- 
 ficient causes. 
 
 With these explanations, I am content to put the 
 question of the truth of the Evangelical narratives to the 
 decision of any man of ordinary cultivation. The stamp 
 of reality he would feel to be on every page. Most of 
 the scenes, he would be satisfied, must have occurred. 
 The picture is a transcript of actual life. The men and 
 women of the Gospels ; the junctures in which they are 
 placed; the sentiments they utter; the feelings they ex- 
 perience or express ; the incidental touches of nature 
 which not seldom present themselves ; the congruity of 
 the language employed with the peculiar circumstances 
 of the individuals, — circumstances regarding their age, 
 their rank, their condition, their country, — these and 
 similar things give the mind an assurance that it is a 
 real history we are perusing, or rather permit not a sus- 
 picion to enter the mind of its being a fiction. It is no 
 difiicult thing for even an ordinary reader to distinguish 
 between the features of reality, and those of invention ; 
 and the readiness with which the narratives of the New 
 Testament enter the mind, and wind themselves round 
 the heart of the sound-headed people of England, and 
 especially the eagerness with which childhood receives 
 them as true histories, and the sensibilities which many 
 of the narratives awaken in their bosoms, are satisfactory 
 assurances that the events spoken of really happened, 
 and that the persons once appeared on the stage of 
 actual life. Believing, as I do, that these features of 
 reality occur in every page, I should find no difficulty 
 in presenting several instances to your notice, but time 
 compels me to be satisfied with requesting your atten- 
 tion to the account found in the 9th chapter of John's 
 history, of the restoration to sight of the man born 
 blind, — an account which, to my mind, is fraught with 
 a real human interest, and bears, in every part, evidences 
 of its truth. Indeed, I can hardly think any impartial 
 judge will deny, that the feelings which he finds recorded 
 
22 
 
 in the histories are, in the main, human feelings, the 
 feelings of men and women like ourselves. Restore 
 the circumstances, and the same emotions would again 
 be experienced, and in substance the same language 
 employed. Love, grief, and pity are as universal in 
 their expression, as they are in their prevalence. There 
 is no mistaking them wherever the realities themselves 
 are found ; and it is equally true, that to imitate their 
 language, or describe their workings, is an effort of art 
 which is rarely, if ever, attained in perfection. Look 
 on the histories of Christ, and you feel at once that you 
 have to do with a real chapter in human history, and not 
 with an effort of the imagination. 
 
 It is a peculiarity of these books, for which the 
 Christian ought to be grateful, that they are not a 
 treatise, not a code of laws, but a series of human pic- 
 tures, a transcript of actual life, a theatre of action, a 
 leaf out of the book of man's destiny. They thus carry 
 with them *heir own evidence; they make an irresistible 
 appeal to our minds and hearts, to kindred thoughts and 
 sympathies within ourselves ; thoughts and sympathies 
 which we have actually experienced, or which we know 
 tliat in like circumstances we should experience. Thus 
 the authority of the Christian Scriptures is the authority 
 of human nature over human nature, the control of miod 
 on mind, and heart on heart. And, except the natural 
 emotions of our breasts are turned awry by prejudice, or 
 polluted by iniquity, I must think it difficult for us to 
 study tliose sketches, which are all over full of humanity, 
 without feeling that our minds are in the midst of actual 
 scenes, and conversing with real human beings. 
 
 Pre-eminently does this appear to me to be the case 
 in regard to Jesus Christ. I know that he is represented 
 in these books as surrounded by a brighter and holier 
 light than that of earth. 1 know also that the virtues 
 indirectly ascribed to him are superior in de;rree to 
 those known to have been possessed by any other mortal. 
 Still, humanity appears in deep and indelible lines in the 
 
23 
 
 whole of his character and conduct. Through the veil 
 of celestial radiance, you see the full workings of a human 
 mind and a human heart. And for myself, I know not 
 how any one can read many incidents recorded by his 
 historians, and yet remain insensible not only to the 
 reality of his character, but to its beauty, grandeur, and 
 attractiveness. The appeal of the sympathies and chari- 
 ties of that holy and affectionate friend of man, would 
 surely, but for the counteracting influence of prevalent 
 corruptions, prove irresistible. However this may be, 
 the character exists, the picture has been painted, and 
 remains to all generations. It is a fact in human history 
 for which we have to account. What shall we say of it ? 
 If not the representative of a reality, it must be a creation 
 of the imagination. Consider it the latter ; — does that 
 abate your difficulty ? The creation supposed is more 
 wonderful than the actual existence. Could such a 
 creation be the work of Jewish fishermen ? I am bold 
 to affirm, that the highest efforts of cultivated intellect 
 have never produced a creation approaching in excellence 
 — in truth to humanity, in grandeur of details, and in 
 harmony of the blended whole — approaching in excellence 
 to the character of Jesus Christ. Much less could it 
 have been the fiction of men, who appear from their own 
 narratives to have been unable to comprehend many of 
 the best features of the character which they uncon- 
 sciously pourtrayed. 
 
 My main position then is, that the histories of Jesus 
 bear in themselves the impress of truth ; for they appeal to 
 the essential principles of our common nature. Whatever 
 you may think of the miracles they record, you cannot 
 deny that the histories present an aspect of humanity ; 
 sympathies which, in kind, are felt wherever a human 
 bosom throbs ; truths which are of universal acceptance, 
 and of imperishable utility ; a spirit, in a word, which 
 harmonises with what is best in our nature, and would, 
 if generally felt and acted out, prove the consummation 
 
of man's happiness. This you cannot deny, except you 
 apre prepared to maintain that human nature has under- 
 gone, or will undergo, an entire revolution ; that there 
 are no essential features by which we can recognize the 
 family likeness, and no moral principles on which we 
 can augur the future, from the present or the past. 
 
 Beyond these claims of authority for the Christian 
 Scriptures, I do not consider it necessary to proceed at 
 present. I will ask you to study these books, to see 
 whether these things are so or not. I will ask you to 
 place yourselves in contact with the character of Christ; 
 to meditate on his spirit ; to follow him in his labors of 
 love ; to listen to the gracious words which proceed out 
 of his mouth ; to witness his tenderness to the young, 
 his sympathy with the bereaved, his pity for mothers 
 about to become desolate, the warmth of his friendship, 
 the earnestness and elevation of his patriotism; — I will 
 ask you, if he knew not how to rebuke the corruptions of 
 the Priest,, the iniquity of the Politician, and the craft 
 of the Hypocrite ; — 1 will ask you if he did not prove 
 himself emphatically the poor man's friend, in word and 
 in deed; if every form of human distress did not meet 
 with succour at his hands ; and if, while pouring out the 
 full stream of his benevolence on the needy, the igno- 
 rant, the afflicted, and the sinful, he manifested hostility 
 to any human thing, but moral and social dishonesty? 
 Such was Jesus Christ. The contemplation of so holy 
 and benevolent a character will, I must think, not only 
 convince you of its reality, but bring home his virtues 
 with authority to your breasts, so as to purify, refine, 
 and exalt them, thereby increasing your happiness and 
 the happiness of your families, and giving you strength 
 and impulse in your efforts to further the improvement 
 of society. And, for myself, I never expect to see tho 
 reahty of any * New Moral World' in any institution 
 whore the spirit of Jesus is not enshrined as its life-giving^ 
 principle. 
 
LECTURE II 
 
 The corruptions of Christianity are frequently pleaded 
 in disparagement of its claims ; and even in cases where 
 the charge is not put into language, it is found to 
 operate with a destructive power. Men take Christ- 
 ianity as it offers itself to their eyes, and finding much 
 of a repulsive character mixed with it, they give them- 
 selves no trouble to separate the chaff from the wheat, 
 but condemn the whole without discrimination. 
 
 I state a fact, I do not offer an apology. On the 
 contrary, I think that such hasty and ind is criminating 
 judgments are very alien from those qualities of mind 
 which mark a genuine love of truth. Indeed, such con- 
 duct men would not yield to in any other concern but 
 religion. If they wish to pursue a course of social 
 policy which, in their opinion, the condition of their age 
 and country and a regard to general principles require ; 
 — if they wish to become the disciples of any teacher of 
 philosophy ; nay, if they wish to enjoy the pleasures and 
 advantages of friendship, they are not at once deterred 
 by the appearance of disparaging circumstances, but 
 carefully sift the matter before them, and where they 
 are unable to separate the bad from the good, strike a just 
 balance, and pass over to the side where the preponde- 
 rance lies. But in religious matters, the ordinary rules 
 of fair dealing are, with but too many persons, set aside. 
 The labor of discrimination is refused ; enquiry is aban- 
 doned almost as soon as it is entered on ; and there are 
 men who, in this high concern, applaud themselves for 
 the very neglect which they would be among the first to 
 
 B 
 
26 
 
 condemn in morals, philosophy, or business. Yet why ? 
 religion is either a splendid fiction, or the grandest 
 truth which the human mind is capable of entertaining ; 
 and surely, while we are careful to employ all the ener- 
 gies of our minds in buying, selling, amassing riches, in 
 devising schemes for social improvement, in deciding 
 between rival theories of government, or conflicting 
 schools of philosophy, we cannot do right, we cannot 
 act consistently, if we refuse a calm and diligent inves- 
 tigation to the highest topic which can engage our 
 attention. Such a refusal appears to me not only 
 highly culpable, but to involve the very spirit of unfaith- 
 fulness. The worst state, short of vice, in which a mind 
 can be, is one of unconcern respecting questions of the 
 highest possible import ; — questions which relate to 
 God, duty, and eternity. These questions may have 
 tlieir foundation in error; but this no one can know for 
 liimself, who has refused to enquire : they may also rest 
 on the most satisfactory basis, and lead on to tlie most 
 salutary results ; but whether they involve good or ill, 
 tlie man must be wrong in regard to them, who either 
 receive them without evidence, or rejects them without 
 duo examination. Mental honesty is the great quality 
 which all Avho have the liirht of reason should, before all 
 things, labor to preserve; and, for myself, I see no 
 essential difference between the hypocrite who, to serve 
 a purpose, affects to believe that of which he is not con- 
 vinced, and tlic sceptic, who, under the impulse of his 
 prejudices, refuses to enquire, or enquires only so far as 
 lie may find agreeable. Both are false ; the one to his 
 light, the otlier to his opportunities. The one professes 
 what he does not believe, the other believes what he 
 does not know ; — I say what he does not know, for 
 whoever declares that religion is false without due and 
 faithful enquiry, makes a positive assertion while he 
 seems only to deny, and entertains a conviction for 
 wliich he has no sufficient warrant. 
 
27 
 
 It is no exculpation to allege as an undoubted fact, that 
 corruptions do prevail in religious concerns. For where 
 are corruptions not to be found ? When did truth pass 
 unsullied through the hands of man ? Is there a single 
 department of the knowledge which pertains to our moral 
 life, free from human corruptions ? And, in general, the 
 more important the interest, the deeper the stain. Go 
 to the pages of the historian, you will find darkness 
 mingled with light. Give ear to the lessons of the 
 moralist, you will find what to reject, as well as what to 
 receive. Mark the career of the politician, listen to his 
 exposition of principles, and if your admiration should 
 he kindled, your sense of right will also be revolted. 
 Have not the dreams of Astrology been blended, if not 
 confounded, with Astronomical discoveries? Will it be 
 maintained that even Socialism is as pure in the rivulets 
 which pour forth its influences around our villages, as in 
 the fountain itself whence these tiny streams are under- 
 stood to take their rise ? It requires no depth of moral 
 insight to discover the unworthy human passions which 
 trouble and darken their waters ; nor is the gift of 
 prophecy necessary in order to foretel, that this new 
 philosophy will assume another and still more repulsive 
 character, so soon as the powerful benevolence is departed 
 with which Nature has endowed its promulgator. Indeed, 
 truth must of necessity take a coloring from the medium 
 through which it passes. Look at the rivers, and ask 
 yourselves what gives them their hue. Travel from 
 clime to clime, and notice how the same light of the 
 skies varies in its aspect. Mix among the different 
 nations and races of men, and see what multiform clianges 
 the essential affections of human nature undergo. And 
 does not the harvest depend on the soil no less than on 
 the seed, and the effect of every lesson given, every page 
 that is read, every moral and intellectual influence, take 
 its character, almost entirely, in each individual case, 
 
28 
 
 from the mind by which it is received ? Truth — so far 
 as it is prevalent among men, must of necessity consist, 
 to no small extent, of the reflexions of their own mental 
 and moral condition. This is a universal fact ; and its 
 consequences, in the corruptions which ensue, are no 
 more a valid plea against religion than they are against 
 morality. I know but of one branch of knowledge in 
 which there is a transmission, from age to age, of pure, 
 unadulterated truth. The mathematical sciences have 
 to do with invariable relations, unambiguous terms, and 
 strict demonstration ; and therefore the teachings of a 
 Euclid remain to this day unchanged after the lapse of 
 centuries ; — but in all other departments of knowledge, 
 — wherever absolute certainty is unattainable, wherever 
 the influence of interest or the afl'ections intervenes, 
 there variation is unavoidable, and declension the all but 
 necessary consequence. It can, then, be no disparage- 
 ment to religious truth, that it suft'ers in common with 
 all other truth with which it is kindred. How should 
 it not suffer ? What but an inconceivable miracle could 
 preserve a stream pure, which has, of necessity, to pass 
 through impure channels ? Let the disclosures of truth, 
 at the first, be a transcript of the divine mind itself, yet 
 as they must have been consigned to the keeping of 
 human beings, what absolute guarantee can wo have, 
 that tlie light which is transmitted to us is the untingcd 
 and uncurtailed light of God ? Every mind has its own 
 vision, sees through its own prejudices and aftections, 
 and has therefore a view which varies more or less from 
 that of every other. Uniformity of opinion is in conse- 
 quence an impossibility. Variations there must be, and 
 if variations, so corruptions. Nor can we ever hope to 
 approach, in our own convictions, to the truth not only 
 as it is in Jesus, but as it is also in Plato, or Socrates, 
 the truth of present philosophy or past events, except 
 we ascend to the fountain head itself; or, if we are com- 
 
29 
 
 pelled to stop at any derivative source, except we make 
 due allowance for whatever defilements the medium may- 
 have undergone. And if these observations are at all 
 correct, so far from expecting* to find a religion untar- 
 nished, which is two thousands years old, we should 
 rather come to the enquiry with a presumption that, as 
 it is now, so it was not in the beginning. The pure 
 transmission of any moral influence is, so far as we can 
 see, an impossibility; and it is the duty of every one who 
 would be just to himself, and faithful to the claims of 
 truth, to cleanse the religion of Jesus from the rust of 
 ages, to purify the gold from its necessary alloy, and to 
 be no less careful to receive and hoard the one, than to 
 cast the other away. 
 
 And here the aid comes in, which the histories of 
 Christ supply. They present us his religion in its first 
 development. I do not affirm that the religion of Christ 
 received no tarnish in passing through the minds and 
 from the pens of its earliest recorders. But it does 
 appear to me, that for their work they were the least 
 exceptionable of all historians. Themselves unlettered 
 men, with no bias from the preconceptions of philoso- 
 phy, and no personal interests to give a coloring to 
 their narrative, they were concerned only to set down 
 what they had seen or heard ; and obviously without 
 being aware of the grandeur of the moral portrait which 
 they drew, and without entertaining a wish either to 
 recommend themselves by the embellishments of lan- 
 guage, or to enforce their master's claims by defence or 
 eulogy, they have furnished us with trust-worthy means 
 of learning the great facts and principles which consti- 
 tute the essence of Christianity. The phraseology they 
 employed of a necessity took a hue from the currrent 
 language of the day. A new system of religion had to 
 be developed in forms of speech which Judaism had 
 consecrated to its own service. And therefore any mode 
 B 2 
 
30 
 
 of interpretation must be vicious, which deals rather with 
 words than facts, with details rather than principles. It is 
 the spirit of Christ and the spirit of his religion which 
 we are concerned to know; and in the simple record 
 of what he taught and did — of what he aimed to eflfect, 
 and of what impressions he actually produced, — in the 
 simple record of these things with which we are, beyond 
 a question, furnished in his history, — furnished in a 
 language as universal as it is cow imperishable, we find 
 all that is requisite to enable us either to distinguish the 
 religion of Christ from its corruptions, or to make *the 
 pearl of great price ' our own. 
 
 Now in proceeding to separate the pure ore from the 
 dross with which it is mixed, we shall do well to consi- 
 der the influences to which it was from the first sub- 
 jected. The treasure was, of a necessity, consigned to 
 earthen vessels. How could it fail to take a tinge and 
 a flavor from the vase ^ The Acts of the Apostles, as 
 well as the several Epistles, combine to make it clear 
 that human passions and a prevalent philosophy began, 
 in the earliest age, to blend themselves with, and con- 
 sequently to defile, the religion of Christ. Nor are 
 there wanting, in the Christian Scriptures, abundant 
 evidence to show that its first missionaries anticipated 
 a signal departure from primitive purity, when the power 
 of the world came to have a decided influence on the 
 Church. 
 
 But the leaven of corruption, in the case of the religion 
 of Jesus, took a determinate character. It suft'ered not 
 merely from the ordinary weakness and passions of 
 humanity, but from influences which, to no small extent, 
 were peculiar to the first periods of its existence. We 
 know, as an historical fact, that the religion of Christ 
 was entrusted to the keeping of Jews, and subsequently 
 embraced by Roman and Greek idolaters. Here, then, 
 we have the Jewish clement of corruption ^ and the 
 
31 
 
 Tagan element of corruption. Let us endeavour to trace 
 the influence of each. 
 
 First, Judaism. I do not deny that it had good 
 qualities — qualities which made it useful in the peculiar 
 state of society in which it first appeared. None but 
 those who are ignorant of the great lessons of history, 
 will maintain that in any case, and certainly not in the 
 case of the Jewish polity, civil or religious institutions 
 can subsist for centuries, without having the power of 
 conducing to human happiness. If it is true that there 
 is no social polity perfect, it is not less so that there is 
 none exclusively vicious. Let the good then of Judaism 
 be allowed; — but I hold that it was providentially super- 
 seded ; that when it had effected its purposes, Jesus 
 Christ was sent into the world to plant in its stead a better 
 and an everlasting system of religion. If so, there must 
 have been qualities in Judaism which unfitted it for 
 continuing to carry on the education of the human race. 
 What were they ? Judaism was a system of religious fa- 
 voritism and jealousy, supported by pains and penalties. 
 But here, in order not to be misunderstood, I must 
 remark that I speak not so much of the Judaism of the 
 law and the prophets, as of actual life. I do not seek to 
 know what it might have been, nor what its eminent 
 men would have made it, but in an attempt to estimate 
 its influence in corrupting Christianity, I take Judaism 
 as I find it in the days of our Lord. I say, then, that 
 though it acknowledged Jehovah as the Creator of the 
 universe, it regarded and worshipped him mainly as the 
 national God of the Jews, jealous of all homage not paid 
 under a certain form, and pledged to the furtherance and 
 the eventual supremacy of the Judaical institutions. 
 The Jewish nation, therefore, considered itself the pecu- 
 liar people of God. All the rest of mankind were out 
 of the pale of the divine favour, and objects of contempt 
 and scorn to the special favorites of heaven. Jewish 
 
32 
 
 ascendancy, in fact, was the idea which the nation most 
 fondly cherished, and which it was their first aim to 
 promote. Having arrogated to themselves the exclusive 
 possession of the divine favor, they naturally proceeded 
 to set the divine power in array for the furtherance of their 
 fond notions, and in open hostility to the whole Heathen 
 world. An inveterate higotry was the necessary conse- 
 quence. A system of the narrowest exclusiveness pre- 
 vailed, together with a ceaseless longing and perpetual 
 striving after universal empire. And as the mind of the 
 rest of the world naturally proved refractory to these 
 proud demands, and as the Jew believed himself alone 
 in possession of the true faith, and as he held that his 
 was a divine right to dominion over others, so he con- 
 tracted a disposition not merely to proselyte, but to 
 persecute. This leaven of unrighteoussness manifested 
 itself in the presence of Jesus himself, and though 
 calmly but firmly rebuked, yet knowing not what spirit 
 it was of, it passed, in the breast of converts from Judaism, 
 into the bosom of the Christian Church ; and ere many 
 ages had elapsed, associating itself with the lower but 
 most powerful passions of the human breast, at a time 
 when the primitive and natural efficacy of the religion of 
 Christ began to decline, it burst forth at iirst in a miti- 
 gated, but afterwards in a terrific form, and presented 
 the unseemly and revolting sight of the disciples of the 
 Prince of Peace engaged in inflicting injuries one on 
 the other, and striving to advance a religion of self- 
 denial and universal love, by compulsion, imprisonment, 
 and death. This is the corruption which, of all others, 
 has most retarded the progress of the religion of Jesus. 
 It has checked not merely its outward triumphs, but 
 undermined and not seldom destroyed its real influence 
 within the Church itself. So foreign is it to the spirit 
 of true and primitive Christianity, that wherever it has 
 come it has blighted or withered its fruits. And from 
 
33 
 
 the unhappy period when Orthodoxy and Arianisra first 
 drew the sword on each other, to the moral atrocities 
 which Protestant ascendancy has committed in Ireland, 
 this leaven of Judaical jealousy has harassed the 
 Church, counteracted the spirit of Christ, and furnished 
 Unbelief at once with its best apology, and its most 
 effective weapons of offence. 
 
 But Judaism was also a system of pains and penalties. 
 Fear was its master passion. Together with exalted 
 notions of Deity, it ascribed to Him some of the lowest 
 human passions. He was therefore represented as 
 offended with his erring subjects, so that his wrath 
 could not be appeased without suitable compensation. 
 Hence arose a complicated ritual of atonements, whose 
 design was to satisfy his anger, and render him propi- 
 tious. Without shedding of blood there was, therefore, 
 with the Jews no remission of sins. I am not unaware 
 that similar ideas of the necessity and of the value of 
 atoning sacrifices have prevailed among all ignorant 
 and uncultivated tribes ; and when one calls to mind 
 that even among the classical nations, human blood was 
 demanded as a needful expiation to the gods, one is 
 justified in asserting that, severe as it was, the ritual of 
 the Jews rather mitigated than aggravated this awful 
 mistake. But as the influence of Judaism on the reli- 
 gion of Christ was more immediate and direct, I am 
 disposed to think that this leaven of unrighteousness 
 also passed from the Judaical institutions into the 
 Church of Christ. Even the language of the New 
 Testament itself wears a sacrificial hue ; though I by no 
 means think that the proper idea of an atonement is 
 sanctioned by the Christian Scriptures. As, however, 
 the writers of these books were of Jewish extraction, 
 and had been nursed and reared in the use of sacrificial 
 terms, they could do no other than convey to the world 
 a system of mercy and love, in phraseology which, more 
 
34 
 
 or less, wears the dress of a system of wrath and com- 
 pensation. Subsequent ages have not distinguished the 
 truth from the accidental investments in which, in some 
 cases, it appears, — not separated ' the letter which killeth, 
 from the spirit which giveth life'; and in consequence, 
 the religion of Christ has had to labor under the corrup- 
 tions which a belief in expiations has engendered. 
 
 Kindred with this source of evil was that principle of 
 revenge and reprisals, which demanded, in cases of 
 injury and offence, ' an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a 
 tooth.' Had the Jews indeed been equal to their insti- 
 tutions, this inhuman practice, a practice derived from 
 the influence of a semi-barbarous age, would liave been 
 discountenanced and abated. But the authority of 
 Christ himself shows us that it was in active operation 
 in his day. Indeed his own death is, to no small 
 extent, attributable to its prevalence. And though 
 against no one of the powers of evil did he more finnly 
 set his face, protesting against it both in express terms 
 and by the first principles of his religion; yet being con- 
 genial with the lower passions of humanity, it gained a 
 footing in his Church, arrayed itself in the form of an 
 angel of light, converted the crosier into a sword, spoke 
 from the pulpit, arrayed Christians one against another, 
 and when it had created strife and confusion within the 
 Church, went forth to the condemnation of the world, 
 and sometimes to actual slaughter. 
 
 Out of these combined influences sprang the system 
 of favoritism and exclusion which, though essentially 
 Anti-Christ, assumed to itself the designation of Ortho- 
 doxy. Hence the apocryphal, not to say fabulous 
 notions which, concreted into a system by the influence 
 of the clergy and the powers of the state, appear before 
 the world as the only true saving faith. From first to 
 last it is a system essentially Jewish, and as such essen- 
 tially one of retributory pains and penalties. For tlu 
 
35 
 
 offence of one man — the great progenitor of the race, the 
 Deity, in anger, condemns all to everlasting torture. 
 The sin of the father is imputed to his innumerable 
 progeny. An expiation is offered. Wrath is appeased. 
 Man is rescued. But though the offence of one abounded 
 to all, the merit of another in effect reaches only to a 
 few. What began in injustice, terminates in cruelty, 
 and the fate of untold myriads is everlasting woe. The 
 imputation of that merit, in each case, depends on the 
 reception of a particular creed ; and therefore, inasmuch 
 as it is better for man to suffer temporal death than eter- 
 nal ruin, those who had the guardianship of this sole 
 means of salvation, were not only warranted, but required, 
 if there were need, to kill the body in order to save the 
 soul. Persecution is not only the natural, but the 
 necessary offspring of a system of partial salvation ; and 
 it is only so far as those who hold any form of belief to 
 be the passport to the divine favor, prove unfaithful to 
 the very essence of their doctrine, that they can become 
 truly charitable and philanthropic, and thus enter into 
 the spirit of the Master whose name they bear. Mean- 
 while, this unholy and inhumane influence, however 
 clothed with a fair exterior, is still actively and power- 
 fully at work in the outward Church of Christ, setting 
 father against mother, and brothers against sisters, 
 making a man's worst enemies those of his own house ; 
 fostering spiritual pride ; requiring the prostration of the 
 human intellect ; preaching passive obedience and non- 
 resistance ; building up priestcraft and superstition on 
 the basis of fear; and bowing many a gentle heart beneath 
 an intolerable burden, or converting the religionist into 
 the maniac. And though I am not the person to look 
 with unconcern on the progress of infidelity, yet if its 
 mission is, like that of the tempest in the natural world, 
 to purify and refreshen the moral atmosphere around us, 
 I must say we shall have no reason to regret, should it 
 
36 
 
 be employed by a wise Providence to unbind these heavy 
 burdens, to strike off these rankling fetters of the spirit, 
 and set the captive free. 
 
 The corruptions which Judaism engendered are mostly 
 of a moral nature ; those which came from Heathenism 
 are rather intellectual, and I must add, on that account, 
 less injurious. This resulted in part from the fact, that 
 while it was the practice and prevalent tone of Judaism 
 which corrupted Christianity, on the part of Paganism 
 the defilement came from a speculative philosophy, and 
 a mythological creed. Compared with the intense 
 moral feeling of the Jew, the Pagan religion was little 
 more than an intellectual form. When, however, this 
 influence of the head came to be united to the moral 
 influence which Judaism imparted, it greatly increased 
 the tendency to corruption; for by the appearance of 
 wisdom which it wore under the name of philosophy, 
 it supplied that in which the Judaical element was defi- 
 cient, threw the shield of reason around the false shapes 
 of feeling, and in this guise won the understanding by 
 its adulations, and captivated the heart by its perverted 
 sensibilities. 
 
 Paganism was a system of gross polytheism. It had 
 deified not only the powers of nature, but the good and 
 the bad in human character, and raised the vilest of 
 mortals to share the throne of the universe. It is true 
 that when, in the second centur}' of the Christian era, it 
 began to make itself felt in the Church of Christ, it had 
 parted — at least as it existed in the hands of those 
 philosophers who passed over into the Christian camp — 
 it had parted with much of its grosser and more repul- 
 sive forms ; yet it retained an influence over their minds 
 which indisposed them to the bare simplicity of the 
 religion of Jesus, made them fond of abstract and 
 visionary speculations, and diverting their attention 
 from the essence of Christianity which is eminently 
 
37 
 
 practical, inclined them to find or make mysteries in 
 their newly-adopted faith. He who had from his youth 
 up been pleasingly engaged in curious enquiries respect- 
 ing the essence of the gods, their orders and functions, 
 and who had been trained to acknowledge an Olympus, 
 on which there sat, in nicely graduated ranks, the celes- 
 tial hierarchy, from the recently deceased Emperor up 
 to Jupiter himself, could hardly be satisfied with the 
 unpretending simplicity of the crucified man of Naza- 
 reth. Still less, perhaps, could the unenlightened 
 rustic, and the ambitious citizen, bring into the Church 
 of Christ hearts cleansed from all the sensual idolatries 
 in which they had been educated. How great soever 
 the change which the religion of Jesus wrought, it 
 ctuld scarcely exterminate every relic of heathenism 
 from the breast, especially when, in the third and fourth 
 century, its own power began to wane, as the splen- 
 dour of the character of the deeds of Christ faded 
 from the w^orld. The rays of that sun must be compa- 
 ratively weak which men read of, rather than see and 
 feel ; and so, as time passed on, many, there is reason to 
 think, adopted the name of Christian, while they re- 
 tained in their minds and hearts much of the influence 
 of that Paganism in w^hich they had been educated. 
 
 Scarcely, therefore, had Jesus left the world two cen- 
 turies, before the cinicified man was elevated into a 
 secondary God ; and the corrupting influence of poly- 
 theism continuing to grow in the Church, he was ere 
 long first associated, and then identified, with his own 
 Father, in conjunction with a third partner in the 
 godhead ; which three, however, mysticism, priestcraft 
 and credulity declared to be one, alike dijBferent and 
 the same, equal, yet not distinct. And as the Son 
 was made coeval with the Father, so the Mother of 
 God was placed on the highest step of their common 
 throne, and a Jewish matron — the wife of a carpenter— 
 
38 
 
 received religious homage from the civilised world. It 
 mio-ht be thought that the force of corruption * could 
 no farther go'. But when once the best and strongest 
 feelings of our nature are turned in a wrong direction, 
 there is no fatuity of which they are not capable. Imi- 
 tating the worst part of Heathenism, those who called 
 themselves Christians proceeded to make dead men and 
 women into demi-gods, whom they worshipped under 
 the name of saints, and to propound to the world, and 
 enforce on its reception, the most astounding of all 
 absurdities, namely, that He who formeth the wind, 
 keepeth the planet in his orbit, circumscribeth all space, 
 and sustaineth the universe, was in some way trans- 
 muted into a wafer, and swallowed by his own creatures, 
 and that not in one, but in ten thousand parts of this tiny 
 globe. 
 
 If the Judaical element of corruption furnished what 
 could not fail to wound the heart. Paganism surely gave 
 forth enough either to confound and blind the intellect, 
 or to call forth all its energies in active and detennined 
 hostility. And well can I imagine that an unbeliever of 
 an ingenuous disposition, would feel that a regard at 
 once to the Creator of the Universe and to his fellow- 
 creatures required him to employ his utmost eflforts 
 against their united corruptions in credulity, superstition, 
 and absurdity. And could he bo justified in allowing 
 these external clouds of the religion of Christ from con- 
 cealing from his sight and his heart the light and wannth 
 of 'the sun of righteousness', I for one should be disposed 
 rather to applaud than to blame his zeal. Nor can I 
 well conceive liow such a system can either merit or 
 receive a defence, except on the erasure of the funda- 
 mental principles of human reason, and the extinctioQ 
 of the strongest and host charities of the human heart. 
 U is therefore with a sacred gratification I rejoice that 
 the religion of Jesus has begun to work itself free from 
 
39 
 
 these lees of Jewish and Pagan corruptions. The bright 
 original, I have the holiest warrants for saying, will be 
 restored; and of this we may be the more assured, because, 
 though the costly pearl has been hidden in a mass of 
 rubbish — *has been marred and polluted, it has never been 
 lost. The religion of Christ still exists in the world in 
 the midst of surrounding defilements, diminished and 
 most lamentably curtailed of its influence, yet not essen- 
 tially changed. For we may be satisfied, that the cor- 
 ruptions to which I have alluded could never have 
 maintained an empire in the human breast, had they 
 not been associated with a holy and benevolent power. 
 And I confess, that while the unbeliever derides Chris- 
 tianity on account of the corruptions with which it is 
 blended, I can find no language to express the admira- 
 tion I feel in considering the strength of counteraction 
 which the good principle must have exerted, to prevent 
 these powers of evil from exciting a universal revolt 
 in the Christian world. But age after age men have 
 found in Christianity a supply for their most urgent 
 wants, a source of improvement which conduced greatly 
 to their happiness; and therefore, notwithstanding its 
 corruptions, they have firmly held it in their embrace. 
 In this strong sense of its worth, this vividly-felt expe- 
 rience, has been the conservative power of the Chris- 
 tian religion ; and but for this, the load with which 
 human weakness and folly have burdened it, would long 
 ere now have sunk it as lead in the ocean. The little 
 leaven has leavened the whole lump with a title to 
 man's regard and reverence. 
 
 The work, therefore, of the religious reformer is not to 
 destroy a prevalent Christianity, but to cleanse it from 
 existing impurities ; and in his righteous ejBforts he has 
 the invaluable aid of the divine original, as preserved in 
 the histories of Christ. Let us, for a brief period, turn 
 oar thoughts to that original, in order to seize, if we 
 
40 
 
 may, the fundamental idea of the religion of Jesus. 
 What was his object, and what his means ? I shall not 
 dwell on any subordinate or secondary purposes, but 
 endeavour to present the leading- idea, the master 
 thought, which animated the mind of Christ, and inspired 
 and shaped his life. And when stript of all the casual 
 associations of time, place and language, that idea 
 seems to me to be this — to effect a great moral reform, 
 which, taking" its rise in individual excellence of cha- 
 racter, should act beneficially on society, and lead on to, 
 and eventuate in, the pure spiritual happiness of a hfe 
 to come. These several effects were contemplated by 
 Jesus as the groat work he had to do, and they stood in 
 his mind not as insulated and dissimilar results, but as 
 parts of one connected Avhole, as links in the chain 
 which bound social good with individual excellence, and 
 the bliss of eternity witli the liappiness of time. In his 
 mind there was no moral gulf between heaven and 
 earth ; nor did he teach that those would be saved here- 
 after, who had been sensual, unjust, or cruel here. With 
 him, the whole of each one's being Avas a transition, a 
 gentle passage from a life of sense (which, to a moral 
 being, is rather death than life) to a life of pure and 
 never-ending spirituality. 
 
 And here, before I proceed on this topic, I would, in 
 order to prevent misapprehension, remark that I use the 
 terms spirit and spirituality, to denote that state of the 
 inind in which the intellectual and moral powers are 
 raised to their highest pilch of refinement, and kept in 
 harmonious and vig-orous action by the presiding in- 
 fluence of the love of God within the breast, whether 
 the result take place in this world, where its existence 
 can be only partial, or in the next, where the education 
 of each human being will be completed. 
 
 The great aim, then, of Jesus Christ was a new moral 
 creation, with a view to the universal prevalence of 
 
41 
 
 the highest happiness of man. In his own language, 
 he came that we might have life, and that we might 
 have it exceeding abundantly. Presenting himself as 
 the light of the world, he aimed to dissipate the moral 
 darkness of the human mind, and thereby to bring about 
 the dismissal from the breast of all the idolatries of sense, 
 in order that the faculties, being quickened by the rays 
 of truth, might come forth purified from the dross of 
 earth, in full and well-proportioned energy. The life, 
 then, which Jesus purposed to give, was the kindling 
 up of all the faculties of man, and the preservation and 
 expansion of them to their highest possible reach 
 throughout the period of endless being. The true life 
 of man is in the ascendancy of the higher powers of 
 his nature, — his reason, his moral feelings, those sym- 
 pathies which make him rich wdthin in the elements 
 of happiness, and unite him in bonds of love and 
 holiness with his fellow-creatures and his Creator ; arid 
 the advancement of that moral supremacy, the subjuga- 
 tion of sense, and of all the lower passions which lead 
 on to intellectual and moral death ; and the completion 
 of this .great work in the formation of the human heart, 
 after the image of God, man's will being blended with the 
 will of his Maker, and his life made a steady out-going 
 of the divine influence, — such was the one great purpose 
 and effort of the life and teachings of Christ. In other 
 words, he came to repress and annihilate the bad in hu- 
 man nature, and to call forth, strengthen, and perfect 
 the good. He was the great moral educator, differing 
 from other educators in the exent of his aims, and the 
 power of his instrumentality, but having, like them, for 
 his object, the improvement of mankind. 
 
 Now it must be carefully noticed that Jesus began 
 his work with individuals. He knew that thus only could 
 he lay a basis for a solid and durable reform. To begin 
 with masses and ' communities' may present a more 
 imposing exterior, but must, in the main, end in dis- 
 
 c 2 
 
42 
 
 appointment. The social whole is made up of its several 
 parts, in such a way that the character of the whole is 
 but an aggregate of the character of the parts ; and 
 until you have reformed individuals, you cannot reform 
 societies. And no influence which you may attempt to 
 exercise on masses, can be carried into effect with cer- 
 tainty, and will most probably fail in the majority of 
 cases, because it cannot be varied so as to meet the 
 peculiar wants of each individual. Besides, all such 
 influence must, for the most part, be of an external 
 nature ; springing from without, and operating from 
 without, it can touch but slightly the springs of our 
 moral life. All genuine power for human reformation 
 must be in-born. The quickening principle may be 
 exterior, the life itself must be within. You may 
 effectually deal with masses, when you use men as mere 
 machines for labour or for war; but if you would bring 
 aftout a * New Moral World,' you must, as Jesus did, 
 begin with individuals. 
 
 And in so beginning, it was to the inner man he directed 
 his attention. Tiiis is a marked feature in the religion 
 of Jesus, necessitated by the nature of the effect he 
 designed to produce, which was not a mere conformity 
 to any outward standard, still less, as with Socialists, 
 the developcment of the animal nature, but the regene- 
 ration of the heart, the calling forth and invigoration 
 of its elements of moral and everlasting life. The pur- 
 pose which he labored to cftcct was, to make each indi- 
 vidual a law to himself, by leading him to the possession 
 of a clean heart, a right spirit, a holy will, a deep respect 
 for the noble capacities of his nature, and the high destiny 
 which lay before it. He could not, therefore, remain 
 satisfied with any external proprieties, but addressed his 
 influences at once to the understanding and the affections, 
 assured if these were only in a healthful and vigorous 
 condition, the life could not fail to he right, nor the 
 highest happiness, both corporeal and mental, to bo 
 
•13 
 
 enjoyed, of which man is susceptible. That he did not 
 disown the power of circumstances, nor fail to surround 
 his disciples with the best influences under his command, 
 his history places beyond a doubt ; but his view of moral 
 influence was not limited to any exterior instrumentality ; 
 he saw in the human mind itself, a power superior to 
 all outward appliances, a power for good or for ill of 
 overwhelming eilicacy ; and he therefore addressed him- 
 self at once to this mighty principle, the original of all 
 the triumphs of humankind, whether physical or moral. 
 Nor do I entertain a doubt, that any effort must signally 
 fail which, disowning or undervaluing the native and 
 independent power of the human breast, seeks the good 
 of man by the external force of ' improved circum- 
 stances.' Some good may result — but as a remedy for 
 our moral disorders, and especially if designed to work 
 out the elevation of character which the religion of Jesus 
 purposes, little else than disappointment can ensue. All 
 effectual moral reform must be begun, carried on, and 
 completed in the hearts of individuals. 
 
 Let it not, however, be for a moment supposed, that 
 •while Jesus aimed to benefit individuals, he forgot or 
 neglected the mass. His aim was of the most extended 
 character, as befitted one who came with a message of 
 mercy from the Universal Father. Nor is it the least 
 original feature in his character, that he formed the 
 grand design, and took effectual measures, to make his 
 influence co-extensive with humanity. Never did so 
 large or so benign a conception enter a human bosom, 
 as that which filled and moved his who taught, lived, 
 and died for the salvation of the human race. His was 
 the only true philanthropy, the loue of man, of man as 
 man, of man irrespectively of country, age, or time. 
 Like all the gifts of the Common Parent, the love of 
 Christ bore the stamp of universality. And wide as was 
 his heart, so wide and comprehensive were the principles 
 which he expounded. If it were not a divine truth, it 
 
44 
 
 would be a moral wonder, that the son of a Jewish car- 
 penter, who had received no earthly influence from 
 beyond the narrow limits of the bigotted land of Judaea, 
 should have risen to the sublime idea of a universal 
 moral regeneration, and so taught and lived as to estab- 
 lish principles which, in their triumph, must eventuate 
 in universal happiness. 
 
 For a moment cast your eye on the spirit which he 
 manifested, and one or two of the great principles which 
 he offered to the world, in order to give effect to the 
 great idea which was the travail of his soul. He is a 
 Jew. Does he flatter Jewish prejudices ? Does he 
 foster the antipathies of the nation ? Does he encourage 
 their fond hopes of religious supremacy ? Excited and 
 buoyed up as the Jewish people then was by the most 
 pleasing and long-cherished visions, he might, had he 
 chosen, have placed himself at the head of the popular 
 stream, and probably been carried onward to a widely- 
 extended earthly sway. He not merely does not seize 
 the opportunity, he does not content himself with evading 
 the current of national prejudice and pride, but he nobly 
 sets himself to stem it. True, he paid his life a forfeit 
 for his moral daring ; but in failing to become a Jewish 
 king, he proved the benefactor of the world. He opposed 
 a narrow spirit of nationalism, in order to live a life and 
 die a death of universal love. 
 
 He was the son of a peasant. Did he affect the favor 
 of the rich and great ? Was he ambitious of the adhe- 
 rence to his cause of the rulers of the land ? On the 
 contrary, two of the most decided features of his character 
 were, the one, the boldness, the almost superhuman bold- 
 ness with which he rebuked the scribe, pharisee, and 
 priest, for their shameful misuse of power ; the other, 
 the extraordinary, the unparalleled devotedness of atten- 
 tion which he manifested to tlie poor, the ignorant, the 
 outcast, and the sinful. His was emphatically a minis- 
 tration of gentleness, peace, and love to the despised 
 
45 
 
 and neglected cottagers of Judaea* The poor have the 
 gospel preached unto them — was his own triumphant 
 evidence of the divinity of his mission. No! the moral 
 influence of Jesus was thrown into the right scale. 
 The w^orld, he knew, would love its own. Power and 
 wealth then, as now, needed no factitious aid. They 
 are idols to which men are ever ready to bow the knee. 
 Jesus loved and reverenced humanity, and, therefore, 
 made the great stream of his influence to bear in favor 
 of the poor. His attachment was not to the garb, nor 
 the rank, but to the children of God, to the world within 
 the breast of each — that world, of all worlds the most 
 important ; and his only question therefore was, where 
 there was the greatest need^ and the best prospect of 
 doing good. 
 
 It was in entire unison with his own most tender and 
 truly philanthropic spirit, that he taught and enforced, 
 in many varied forms, that first great principle of his 
 religion, that God is truly the Father of the human race. 
 The very word is in itself a revelation — the disclosure of 
 a whole circle of truths, and of truths which bear with a 
 most cheering and beneficial influence on all our earthly 
 relations, and on all the hopes and prospects which we can 
 entertain, whether for the life that is, or that to come. 
 If God is our Father, then is love the presiding, govern- 
 ing, and shaping influence of the moral universe. If 
 the God of heaven and earth is the God and Father of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, then all his designs and measures 
 must be in kind merciful, forbearing, loving and tender, 
 like the designs and measures of his well-beloved Son. 
 If God is our Father, then whatever clouds and dark- 
 ness may rest upon his dealings, or on our own indivi- 
 dual lot, they can be no other than the needful disci- 
 pline of a Father's wisdom and benignity, and will in 
 time roll away, and issue in the prevalence of un- 
 mingled and universal happiness. If God is our 
 Father, then, though we his children may prove recreant 
 
46 
 
 to our relationship, and unfaithful to our opportunities, 
 yet he resteth in his love, is ever ready to forgive, and 
 v/aiteth to be gracious ; and the idea of appeasing his 
 wrath, or of suffering the infliction of endless pains, is 
 only not impiety, because it is the offspring of an unwil- 
 ful and pitiable human weakness. And finally, if God 
 is our Father, then is that other grand principle of 
 Christianity true and full of meaning, that all mankind 
 are brethren. The paternity of God becomes the basis 
 of the fraternity of man. I know no other ground on 
 which the relation of human brotherhood can securely 
 rest. The idea of a natural equality is a mere fiction, 
 contradicted by undeniable facts. The reality of asocial 
 equality our own eyes assure us has no existence. But if 
 it is true, as Jesus taught, that God is the equal parent of 
 all, then all men are equal in his sight, all men are alike 
 his children, members of his family, and possessed, in 
 consequence, of equal spiritual rights, privileges, hopes, 
 and destiny. Here, then, is a solid and satisfactory 
 reason for cultivating a spirit of universal benevolence, 
 and for doing good to all men, as we have, or can make 
 opportunity : for being merciful, as our Father in 
 heaven is merciful. 
 
 Another instrumental truth which our I^rd employed 
 was, as set forth by him, of singular and surpassing 
 efficacy; — Jesus took tlie doctrine of a future life out of 
 the region of mytliology, and placed it in the precincts 
 of well-established truths. He taught it not only by 
 word, but by the fact of his own resurrection. And the 
 word and the fact were as much unexceptionable and 
 satisfactory evidence, as striking and ethcient modes of 
 instruction ; since for the trust-worthiness of the one, we 
 have the pledge of the character of Christ ; and for the 
 establishment of the other, the general conditions of 
 historical credibility. Had so good a man as Jesus was, 
 merely declared liimself commissioned to assert man's 
 immortality, we should have possessed a stable founda- 
 
47 
 
 tion for our faith ; but when both his assertion and In» 
 claims are verified by fact, — by the historical fact 
 that be himself rose from the dead, — rose as the first 
 fruits of the whole human family, then we have the 
 highest proof of which the subject admits, and are war- 
 ranted in fostering our instinctive desire for the perpe- 
 tuation of our being into full and unwavering assurance. 
 
 And so is it also a fact, that the idea of a future state 
 of being now prevails in society not only more exten- 
 sively, but in a form far more definite and operative than 
 at any period anterior to the birth of Christ. For its 
 native efiicacy, however, we must revert to the primi- 
 tive ages of the Christian Church, when entering the 
 heart in full power, and settling there, it became the 
 principle of a new life, and gave, in many instances, a 
 power of endurance, and a power of self-control, such as 
 no other page of history records. 
 
 Nor, I am persuaded, will the unbeliever himself 
 deny, that a firm belief in a future state of conscious 
 being must be as eflacacious, as to the good man it is 
 delightful. No other truth can exert so ennobling and 
 purifying an influence on the heart and life. All our 
 faculties assume a new aspect, our domestic affections 
 become holy, our duties and interests of unspeakable 
 importance, our whole destiny as interesting as it is 
 elevated, when we regard ourselves as born and beiiig 
 educated for eternity. 
 
 And now tell me whether it is possible for any mere 
 prudential — any earthly considerations whatever — to 
 recommend benevolence as it comes enforced to him 
 who is a true and consistent believer in Jesus Christ ? 
 It is impossible to conceive of influences — circumstances 
 if you will — so powerful as those which faith in him 
 brings around the human being. The will of God; the 
 purposes of his Providence ; his mercy and love to each 
 individual; the example and authority of Christ; the 
 great issues of eternity, as well as of time, — all conspire 
 
48 
 
 to make the Christian pure in heart, and compassionate, 
 gentle, and beneficent in life. And you diminish, you 
 all but destroy your power for good, when, by parting 
 with the influence of the religion of Jesus, you descend 
 to * the beggarly elements ' of mere earthly wisdom and 
 philosophical speculations. 
 
 Christianity — as it exists — may be corrupt; aim to 
 purify it : you may think it fails of the good you 
 benevolently desire ; apply it to the great purposes for 
 which it was designed : men may hold it unrighteous- 
 ness, or keep its light under a bushel ; urge and lead 
 them to be faithful to their trust : — but do not go about 
 to destroy that which, of all influences, is surpassingly 
 fitted to bless yourselves, and make you a blessing to 
 vour families and the world. 
 
 The great idea, then, of the religion of Jesus is, the 
 education of man in such a manner, and to such results, 
 as shall secure his highest possible happiness in all the 
 faculties he possesses, in all the relations he bears, and 
 in all the stages of existence through which he may 
 have to pass. 
 
 And the means which Jesus employs for the attainment 
 of this divine end, are his own most wise and benevolent 
 example, and the great doctrines that (^lod his Father, 
 is our Father, and that all we are brethren ; — that the 
 whole world is as nothing compared with the worth and 
 happiness of the spirit ; that the love of God is our first 
 duty and our highest pleasure ; that its best fruits and 
 only certain evidence is in our love of the brotherhood ; 
 and that as all God's measures are remedial, and not 
 punitive, — salutarv and educational, not wrathful and 
 vindictive, so the realization of his will in the heart of 
 each is tlie highest style of excellence, and the attain- 
 ment of perfect peace and never-ending felicity ; and so 
 also tlie day must come, when sin, sorrow, and suffering 
 shall be no more, but God, in that goodness which ia the 
 essence of his nature, shall be all in all. 
 
LECTURE III. 
 
 So important do I feel it to be that man should possess 
 the free and untrammelled use of his mental powers, so 
 precious a right is mental freedom, so high the results 
 of its unimpaired exercise, so many and so serious are 
 the evils which have ensued from invasions of that right, 
 that no consideration could induce me to offer a word of 
 defence for any system, which, in my mind, encroached 
 in the slightest degree upon it. And much as I value 
 the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I could neither embrace it 
 myself, nor recommend it to others, did I consider it 
 anything but favourable to the freest and fullest em- 
 ployment of the higher faculties of our nature. What- 
 ever appearances it might wear, and however prevailing 
 might be its appeal to the human heart, I, for one, 
 should not have a doubt that it was hostile to the real 
 well-being of man, did I find in it any encouragement to 
 bigotry and intolerance, or any sanction to the usurpa- 
 tions which Priestcraft has wickedly assumed over the 
 human mind; and in such a case, severe as the struggle 
 might be, I should undoubtedly consider it my duty to 
 tear the pleasing delusion from my breast, and vindicate, 
 even against my feelings, the inalienable rights of 
 intellectual manhood. Nor do I hesitate to lay it down 
 as a first principle, in relation to morals and religion, that 
 nothing can be of God, not only that trenches on the 
 liberty of the mind, but also, that does not guarantee 
 and encourage the utmost latitude of enquiry. And 
 while, for myself, I am resolved to maintain, as the 
 dearest privilege of my nature, the unfettered exercise 
 both of thought and speech, so would I advise you, not 
 
 D 
 
50 
 
 only to think freely, and to speak honestly what you 
 think, but to suspect evil in any system, however fair its 
 exterior, which would throw the lightest trammel on 
 the freedom of your mind. Had not the great Source of 
 light intended you to employ your powers, without re- 
 striction, fear or penalty, apart from all dictation from 
 man, or coercion from higher authority. He would never 
 have given you tlie faculty of thought, nor planted in 
 your breast the inextinguishable love of liberty. Nor 
 is it possible, that any doctrine whatever should come 
 recommended to man by a higher or more imperative 
 sanction than attends on the simple circumstance, that 
 tlie Great First Intelligence has made man in His own 
 image, and imparted to him powers for his own en- 
 lightenment, impulse, and guidance. Deny man's intel- 
 lectual freedom, and though you claim the gift of inspi- 
 ration, you destroy and forfeit all ground to authority, 
 and in seeking to enslave the minds of others, you array 
 yourself against the primary and fundamental truths, 
 on which only natural or revealed religion can be built. 
 If man is not to be free to think, judge, and determine, 
 that is, if each individual is not to follow his own light, 
 then is there no ground whatever on which the Deity 
 can make an appeal to the human mind ; religion is an 
 impossibility, and morality resolves itself into a cun- 
 ningly devised fable — the invention of the few, for the 
 subjugation of the many : or, at the best, the creature 
 of imagination, prejudice, and custom. Mental freedom 
 lies at the basis of all the truths which concern our 
 duties and our expectations, in such a manner, that if 
 the one be denied, the other can have no existence. 
 And if the mental freedom of the race is thus guaran- 
 teed, so by implication is the mental freedom of each of 
 the individuals of which it consists. Nor can there be 
 any limitation in degree. The gift of thought is entire 
 unshackled, uncurtailed. The least trammel is the »u- 
 percession of the faculty. Fetter one thought, fence up 
 
51 
 
 one field of knowledge, you deny my right to freedom of 
 mind ; and if you claim the authority of Deity for so 
 doing, you, in effect, declare that what God has given 
 with one hand, he takes away with another, and may 
 well be required to show what substantial warrant you 
 €an have for your claim of a divine sanction, w^hich can 
 in no case exist, except on the recognition of the free- 
 dom of the human mind. Then 
 
 " Let us ponder boldly — ^'tis a base 
 Abandonment of reason to resign 
 Our right of thought, — our last and only place 
 Of refuge ; this, at least, shall still be mine : 
 Though from our birth the faculty divine 
 Is chained and tortured— cabined, cribbed, confined. 
 And bred in darkness, lest the truth should shine 
 Too brightly on the unprepared mind. 
 The beams pour in, for time and skill will couch the blind." 
 
 Childe Harolde, Canto iv. 127. 
 
 With these sentiments, I am not likely to offer de- 
 fence or apology for any system, or any influence which 
 interferes with the exercise of man's birthright of free- 
 dom of thought, and freedom of speech. On the con- 
 trary, I hold those to be amongst the best benefactors of 
 humanity, who vindicate its intellectual privileges. Yet, 
 let our condemnation fall not on the innocent, but the 
 guilty. I ask not for generosity ; for though in all 
 cases I pity, rather than reprobate, the persecutor ; yet 
 towards the principles by which he is actuated, there is 
 place for no other feeling than that of stern disapproval. 
 But I ask for justice, I ask that your verdict should be 
 against the real, and not the sup]iosed criminal. And 
 this evening, I appear before you to show, that the reli- 
 gion of Christ itself is not amenable to the charge of 
 bigotry and intolerance. And my general position is, 
 that these evils are the offspring of human passions, 
 acting, not in accordance, but in direct hostility to the 
 spirit and fundamental principles of genuine Christianity. 
 
52 
 
 Before, however, I enter on the illustration of this posi- 
 tion, I deem it desirable to determine, so far as my limits 
 admit, the precise nature and amount of the evil for 
 whose existence I have to account. It has been 
 alleged, that Christianity introduced persecution into 
 the world, as well as that it has proved its most effectual 
 foster-parent. This 1 deny, and I deny also that perse- 
 cution is peculiar to religion. And I assert, that except you 
 admit my main position, namely, that bigotry and intole- 
 rance are the offspring of human passions, you make 
 philosophy, as well as religion, obnoxious to the charge. 
 What is persecution ? In general terms, persecution 
 is the infliction of evil on account of diversity of opinion. 
 If so, it is not limited to bodily pains and penalties. 
 The dungeon, the cross, the rack, the burning pile, are 
 the only forms of terror which the tenn persecution calls 
 up in the minds of the majority of men. But there are 
 tortures which are not less excruciating than those of 
 the body, and these, persecutors, in all ages, have been 
 but too skilful in the employment of. If you injure my 
 reputation, because I differ from you in opinion : if you 
 bar me out from any honourable pursuit in life ; if you 
 excite asrainst me the fmc^er of scorn, or set in action the 
 lip of ridicule ; if you interfere with my freedom of 
 speech by wilful misrepresentation, and endeavour to 
 frustrate my efforts for the furtherance of my senti- 
 ments, by ascribing to me opinions Avliich I disclaim, 
 and fastening on me a name odious in the eyes of the 
 world, and repudiated by myself, — yon, in each case, act 
 the part of a persecutor ; and would, it may be pre- 
 sumed, proceed to bodily severities, should circum- 
 stances give you the opportunity. It is the motive and 
 the spirit which make the persecutor, rather than the 
 act ; and whoever is so intolerant of other men's opi- 
 nions, as to be led to the employment of any other 
 weapons of offence but those of fair argument, has in his 
 breast the spirit of persecution, and yields to its in- 
 
53 
 
 fluence so far as prudence permits. I do not affirm that 
 all acts of persection are equal in atrocity ; but since it 
 is the motive which gives its color to our deeds, so the 
 scoffer is no less amenable to the charge of persecution 
 than the inquisitor. They differ rather in degree than 
 nature ; in power than in spirit. They both inflict evil, 
 each as far as he dares, on account of diversity of 
 opinion. Arm the scoffer with power, he becomes an 
 inquisitor; wrest from the inquisitor his instruments of 
 torture, he sinks into that common-place character — 
 the social calumniator. 
 
 One of the most insidious enemies of Christianity, 
 the historian of the ' Decline and Fall of the Roman 
 Empire,' has intimated that the spirit of Heathenism 
 at Rome, was one of ' universal toleration'.* I can 
 account for the mistake only on the supposition, that 
 his hatred of the Gospel had blinded his mind to facts 
 in history, which are of undoubted authority, and stand 
 out in bold relief; or pre-disposed him to pass over all 
 that he could, which was of a nature to benefit, and to 
 exaggerate so far as safe, every thing likely to dis- 
 parage Christianity. In truth, Paganism in general, 
 whether under the form of religion, or of philosophy, 
 was tolerant only in cases where the spirit of bigotry 
 was not roused. At Rome, so long as the changes 
 which took place went only to add another kindred 
 deity to the national calendar, the evil passions of the 
 heart being rather gratified than provoked, remained in 
 tranquil acquiescence ; but the moment a rival claimant 
 made his appearance, — the moment that a system which 
 emphatically claimed the attribute of truth aimed to 
 supplant a system of popular superstition, and philoso- 
 phical indifferentism, then, at once, the idle acquies- 
 cence of the people being disturbed, the national honour 
 offended, the craft of the priesthood being jeopardised, and 
 
 * Chap. II. 
 
 D 2 
 
54 
 
 the policy of the statesman embarrassed, and his tenure o{ 
 office threatened, the calm was at an end ; interest and 
 prejudice conspired with animosity, armed themselves 
 with the powers of the state, and spared no effort, 
 whether right or wrong, to crush the rising competitor. 
 But as it is an important circumstance, that Christ- 
 ianity, with all its corruptions, was not the aggressor, 
 nor the originator of persecution, I shall not content 
 myself with general statements, but bring forward un- 
 questionable historical facts, bearing on the point. And 
 my allegation is, that the most cultivated nations of 
 ancient times, were all, more or less, guilty of persecu- 
 tion. Egypt, probably, was the cradle of civilization. 
 Dififerent parts of the country had their different objects 
 of worship, and the animal that was adored in this 
 place, was slaughtered and eaten in another. Hence 
 sprang mutual reproaches of impiety, which led to 
 quarrels, hatred, and cruelty. The extent to which 
 these animosities were carried, has been described, as 
 well by the pen of history, as that of satire ; and he 
 who has read the frightful and sickening account which 
 Juvenal has given of a religious discord in Egypt, will 
 need no other evidence of the existence of i persecuting 
 spirit in that land, nor think that the poet has over- 
 drawn the picture in the following words — 
 
 • Between two neighbouring towns, a deadly hate, 
 Sprung from a grudge of ancient date. 
 Yet flames, — a hate no lenients can assuage, 
 No time subdue, a rooted rancorous rage.' 
 
 Juvenal^ Satire xv. Gxffurdi TransLaium. 
 
 From Egypt go to Persia. The Magii were philoso- 
 phers as well as religionists. With what severity did 
 they bring their power to bear against the encroachments 
 which Christianity, in the first ages, laboured to make 
 on their superstitious empire. And long before Christ 
 appeared in the world — when its monarcbs brought 
 
55 
 
 down their innumerable hordes, in order to sweep Greece 
 out of social existence, they were aided in levying their 
 vast forces by the spirit of bigotry, and impelled, by 
 the same spirit, to direct the storm of their wrath in a 
 special manner against the temples and the religion of 
 the land. And in Greece itself, Greece — the foster- 
 parent of philosophy and the school of the arts which 
 embellish life and refine the heart ; in Athens, the eye 
 and the soul of Greece, was there a law, which, accord- 
 ing to the authority of Josephus, expressly forbade on 
 pain of death, the introduction of the worship of a 
 strange divinity. Nay, Xenophon himself has given us 
 the very words in which the virtuous Socrates was ar- 
 raigned, and they are to the effect that he was worthy 
 of death for neglecting the national gods and introducing 
 new objects of worship.* The consequences of the accu- 
 sation are generally known ; he whom the oracle of 
 Apollo — the most celebrated in Greece, had pronounced 
 the wisest of men, and who was not only the wisest but 
 the best of all the uninspired benefactors of the world, 
 who spent the better part of his days in efforts of 
 self-denying and disinterested benevolence, and became 
 thereby an object of tender regard to men whose 
 writings have shed light over the whole civilized 
 Avorld, was first shamefully ridiculed on the public stage, 
 and afterwards put to death in prison, though he had 
 gone to the very limits of propriety in a care not to 
 wound the prejudices of the people, nor excite the 
 jealous alarm of the priest, the philosopher, or the 
 statesman. His is not a solitary case. Athens was 
 scarcely less unjust to her instructors, than she was 
 ungrateful to her patriots. The judicial murder of 
 Socrates took place at Athens, in the time of its highest 
 democratic liberty, and of its most flourishing civilisation; 
 and during the same period, between Pericles and 
 Alexander, we can even now trace, but too clearly, the 
 ^ * Xen. Mem. cap. 1 
 
56 
 
 footsteps of persecution. It required the tears, the 
 public tears of Pericles, of the dictator of the state, 
 of its then most distinguished conqueror, of him who 
 had so often decided in peace and war, to save a feeble 
 woman, Aspasia, who was suspected of novelties of 
 opinion. But all the eloquence of Pericles could not 
 save his master and friend, Anaxagoras ; Anaxagoras 
 was condemned to a prison, which he exchanged in his 
 old age only for perpetual exile. What was his crime? 
 He taught the unity of God. Even Aristotle himself, 
 the father of Natural Histor)', the father of Logic and of 
 systematic Metaphysics, presented his life with diffi- 
 culty ; he had only time to escape from his home by a 
 secret way, and he took refuge in a distant land, ia 
 order, as he said, to save the Athenians another crime 
 against intellectual freedom. And what was his end ? 
 The balance of the evidence is, that age and persecution 
 impelled him to poison himself in his place of exile.* 
 
 I have only too many other examples — but I must 
 hasten to Rome. And can it, in the face of history, be 
 for a moment maintained, that the government of Rome 
 was guiltless of persecution ? Did not the fundamental 
 laws of the State, the laws of the Twelve Tables, bear 
 these words — ' Let no one, apart from the authority of 
 the Commonwealth, acknowledge any gods ; nor in his 
 private capacity worship any but those which bavo the 
 public sanction, whether new or foreign' ? f Was not the 
 temple which Egyptian superstition had erected at Rome, 
 more than once, deraoHshed by an express decree of the 
 Senate ? And were not the Jewish residents at Rome ob- 
 jects of its persecuting wrath, before it burst forth against 
 the followers of Christ ( And surely all that history has 
 recorded of the cruelties practised against Christians 
 from the middle of the first century onwards till the time 
 of Constantino, is neither fiible nor exaggeration. Even 
 Gibbon himself, strive as he may to diminish the number 
 • CoMin, Cours dc riulogophic, vol. 1. f Cicero dt Legibtts. 
 
51 
 
 of the martyrs, and mitigate the account of their suffer- 
 ings, cannot conceal the glaring fact, that thousands had 
 a fiery trial to endure at the hands of Roman Paganism, 
 and is compelled to allow, that its persecution was carried 
 on under the sanction both of law and philosophy. Let 
 the ensuing quotation suffice : ' The religious policy of 
 the ancient world seems to have assumed a more stern 
 and intolerant character, to oppose the progress of 
 Christianity. About four score years after the death 
 of Christ, his innocent disciples were punished with death 
 by the sentence of a Pro-Consul of the most amiable 
 and philosophic character, and according to the laws of 
 an emperor, distinguished by the wisdom and justice of 
 his general administration. The apologies which were 
 repeatedly addressed to the successors of Trajan are filled 
 with the most pathetic complaints, that the Christians, 
 who obeyed the dictates and solicited the liberty of con- 
 science, were alone, among all the subjects of the 
 Roman Empire, excluded from the common benefits 
 of their auspicious government.' But not only were 
 the numerous and diversified cruelties which the Chris- 
 tians underwent, inflicted by the magistrates and sanc- 
 tioned by the laws of Rome, not only did they proceed 
 from the priest, the philosopher, and the populace, but 
 they were defended and justified by the historian. Even 
 the profound and sagacious Tacitus, while recording the 
 infamy of Nero in making his own crime of setting the 
 city on fire, bring disaster on the harmless disciples of 
 Jesus, declares that they deserved the sufferings which 
 were inflicted on them without a cause ; and a later 
 writer, Hierocles, employs arguments in favor of the 
 persecution of the Christians, which the arch-inquisitor 
 himself might not disdain to own. A bitter persecutor 
 himself, he thus attempts to give even philosophy a title 
 to persecute: 'It is the duty of philosophy to apply a 
 remedy to the errors of men, and to call them back to 
 the true way, that is, the worship of the gods by whose 
 
58 
 
 power and majesty the world is governed, nor to sufier 
 unlearned persons to be enticed by fraud, lest their sim- 
 plicity should become a prey and a booty to the artful. 
 Therefore it is worthy of philosophy to have undertaken 
 the office of reviving the worship of the gods, and leading 
 men, by laying aside their pertinacious obstinacy, to 
 avoid the tortures of their body, so that they might not 
 be willing to bear in vain the bitter laceration of their 
 members ; nor could the piety and foresight of princes 
 be more brightly distinguished than in defending the 
 religion of the gods, putting down an impious and foolish 
 superstition, and requiring all men to devote themselves 
 to the sacred rites.'* 
 
 It would be easy to show, in detail, that even in modern 
 times, philosophy has not been free from a persecuting 
 spirit, and has advanced doctrines which breathe the 
 essence of bigotry and intolerance. What was the bear- 
 ing towards each other of the rival sectaries among the 
 schoolmen of the middle ages ? Dififerences of opinion 
 begat hostility, hostility degenerated into rancor, rancor 
 led to violence. Nay, it requires no profound knowledge 
 of the writings of the French philosophers of the last 
 century to know, that some of those who were chief 
 among them, indulged in such a bitterness of spirit 
 and severity of language against Christianity and its 
 professors, that if there is such a thing as persecution 
 in words, their advocates will fmd some difficulty in 
 exonerating tliom from the charge. Nor can I be easily 
 induced to think that the latitude of contempt, ridicule, 
 and rancor with which they wrote against the religion 
 of their country, had but a small eflfect in the rage 
 which, a few years after their death, levelled all its 
 institutions and interests with the dust, and for a time 
 set up, in the person of an abandoned woman, the 
 goddess of reason as the idol of the national homage. 
 It must be even more obvious to every impartial stu- 
 
 • Baylo. 
 
59 
 
 dent of history that ambition, state policy, and political 
 power have, in all ages, waged the bitterest and most 
 destructive conflicts of rivalry ; nor do I think it would 
 be hard to prove that, where religious error has slain its 
 thousands, they have immolated their myriads. Even 
 the most disgraceful persecution of modern times, the 
 massacre of St. Bartholomew, was a political atrocity 
 veiled under a religious guise. Indeed, the intimation 
 of an ancient historian* in regard to the rulers of one 
 country contains a general truth, that statesmen aim at 
 power, and use religion and religious animosities as 
 their instruments. 
 
 So much, then, for the allegation that Christianity 
 introduced persecution into the world. In relation to 
 the Christians of the fourth, and immediately subsequent 
 ages, the fact seems to be, that in regard to persecution, 
 while they repeated the lesson which former masters 
 had taught them, they proved themselves but imperfect 
 scholars in the unholy task. And it certainly is, in 
 itself, a very extenuating circumstance that, so far 
 from being first to display intolerance, they did but too 
 naturally— yet most wrongfully — return a less evil for a 
 greater. I repeat, I offer no apology for bigotrv. I 
 only wish the truth to be known, and the verdict to be 
 according to the evidence. With this desire I must 
 then add, that the first decree which issued from any 
 monarch in favour of entire and universal liberty of 
 conscience, was the work of the first Christian Emperor, 
 Constantino; and although it must, in truth, be said 
 that he did not himself remain faithful to his own 
 avowed wishes, yet neither did he indulge in intoleranco 
 to the extent of preceding htathen Emperors, nor to 
 the extent with which the enemies of Christianity have 
 charged against him; and the most impartial of all 
 chroniclers, as well as the most industrious, f has satis- 
 factorily shown that long after the establishment of 
 * Diodorus. 'f Lardner. 
 
60 
 
 Christianity in power, Heathenism was tolerated in no 
 small degree, and allowed some share of the dignities 
 and emoluments of social life. Whence, too, I would 
 ask, but from the bosom of Christianity itself, has, in 
 more modern days, proceeded the voice which has 
 demanded and eventually gained — in no mean degree — 
 the restoration of the rights of conscience. At the 
 period of the Reformation it was not philosophy, but the 
 religion of Jesus, which not only struck a fatal blow at 
 the Papal tyranny, but, by the mouth of eminent 
 Unitarian writers, threw out principles of religious liberty 
 which, when fully realized, will secure all that its most 
 ardent friend could wish ; and the standard, the impe- 
 rishable writings — the master pieces in which the rights 
 of conscience find a vindication, nnd by which they have 
 been in part, at least, ctl'ectually gained — the writings 
 which impregnated the mind of modern Europe both 
 with just conceptions of religious liberty, and the deep 
 resoU'e to secure its attainment, came from no school of 
 mere philosophy, from no cabinet of politicians, but from 
 men who regarded the religion of Jesus as tlieir own 
 hope, and the hope of the world, — from Milton, Bisliop 
 Taylor, and from Locke. Nor do I fear to atfirm, that 
 the great battle of liberty which has been won in this 
 countrv, has, from the days of the eighth Henry to the 
 fourth George, been fought on the field of religion. 
 The highest rights which she has, England owes to the 
 faithful, costly, but successful vindication of their prin- 
 ciples, which the Dissenters from her Established Church 
 have so honourably achieved. 
 
 These remarks furnish us with the means of con- 
 firming the view I have given of the nature of persecution. 
 Analyse the complex idea represented by the word 
 persecution, or intolerance. Is it the infliction of injury ? 
 Yes; but not merely so, for war does that. Is it a mani- 
 festation of selfishness ? Yes; but something more, for 
 trade is the pursuit of self-interest. Is it a fond attach- 
 
61 
 
 ment to one's own ideas? Yes; but not exclusively, 
 for such conceit attaches to persons in all ranks of life. 
 Seek, then, for the idea in the union of these qualities- 
 Persecution consists of an undue self-estimation, called 
 into violent action by mistaken views of self-interest* 
 and carried out into active injuries against dissidents, 
 by means of the association with itself of social power. Its 
 origin is in mental pride, its immediate parent is a false 
 sense of wrong, of wounded self-esteem, at the prevalence 
 of diversity of opinion ; and its arms are the opprobrious 
 tongue, the prison, and the sword. The free-thinker 
 and the moral innovator offend my self-love, and endanger 
 my interests : he thus kindles the strongest passions of 
 my breast, and, according to my opportunity, I seek my 
 revenge, and attempt to arrest the evil by compulsion. 
 Pride, selfishness, and violence are, then, the constituent 
 qualities of intolerance. In other words, it is the inflic- 
 tion of evil, as I have before observed, on account of 
 diversity of opinion. Will it, then, be maintained that it 
 is peculiar to religion ? Did not Voltaire persecute Chris- 
 tians, when he loaded them with names of ridicule and 
 opprobrium ? Was Christianity its author ? Christianity 
 suffered all manner of evil before it inflicted any. What 
 then ? Are we to lay the charge on religion and philo- 
 sophy alike ? By no means ; they aim to remedy the 
 very evil of which they are wrongfully accused. Where, 
 then, does the burden lie ? On the lower passions of 
 our nature. Pride and selfishness engender intolerance 
 and persecution. These are passions which are of 
 universal prevalence, and when they are excited by 
 opposition and armed with power, they prompt to perse- 
 cution. Look at the Christian Church. So long as it 
 was depressed, it was tolerant ; seated by the side of 
 the Caesars, it became intolerant. The Church of Eng- 
 land first suffered, and then, becoming dominant, had 
 recourse to persecution. The possession of social power 
 
G'2 
 
 is the circumstance which has let loose the animosities 
 of rival religionists and rival sectaries of all kinds ; 
 and the only sure guarantee we can as yet possess for 
 the security of mental liberty, is in preventing the accu- 
 mulation of unrestrained power in the hands of any 
 associated body of men. Some opinions, undoubtedly, 
 tend more than others to encourage persecution — but 
 I would trust philosophy, I would trust religion; I would 
 not trust human passions, I would not trust false views 
 of human interests, I would not place my rights of 
 conscience within the reach of social power. And here, 
 I am naturally led to utter a word of warning. This is 
 the day of Associations. Men associate for objects of 
 all kinds, and, curious enough, they associate to form— 
 as if at a blow, ' A New Moral World.' It will be well, 
 if, in the midst of these associations, individual rights 
 are not sacrificed. Association implies the concentra- 
 tion of power in a few hands. This is one secret of its 
 efficiency. And the power thus accumulated may be 
 used for harm as well as for good ; to establish an 
 oHgarchy and a despotism, which, however benevolent 
 they may appear, will be sure to invade the rights of 
 individuals, and perhaps the dearest rights of conscience. 
 And, except I am mistaken, I have observed the working 
 of passions in connexion with Socialism, which shovr 
 that the leaven of unrighteousness, the love of power, 
 and the consequent intolerance of rivalry', is not idle 
 within the * Comnmnity.' At present, indeed, its very 
 constitution seems to be the government of the few ; 
 and in the hands of the few, whatever power and pro- 
 perty the sect possesses is to be found. Nor can I under- 
 stand how, in the passage from the actual state of 
 society into the land of promise, the liberty of individuals 
 and of the body should fail to be endangered, when of 
 necessity the working out of the change, the admission 
 of members, and, in a word, the whole machinery, is in 
 
63 
 
 the hands of a small number of persons, who, however 
 wise or warm their benevolence, cannot be insen- 
 sible to the blandishments of power. Besides, if any 
 opinions lead to the employment of external force, in 
 order to produce internal changes, what opinions rather 
 than those which teach that, by the force of circum- 
 stances, you can make man think, and feel, and act as 
 you will? The patient in the hands of a persecuting 
 socialist could not plead conscience, for man's account- 
 ableness to God is disallowed ; nor could he plead con- 
 viction or education — that is the very disorder that has 
 to be cured. The socialist knows, if he does not know 
 himself, that he is wrong and wretched ; and if the 
 patient is so foolish as not to wish for an improved cha- 
 racter — nay, to resist the appliances of reason — this ob- 
 stinacy only shows how inveterate is the disease, how 
 loud the call is for an effectual cure; and might naturally 
 impel the moral physician to resolve on making the 
 patient sound and happy in spite of himself. And should 
 any follower of this new philosophy feel himself called 
 to make the attempt, he would have a ready justifica- 
 tion against the charge of bigotry, in declaring that he 
 was not responsible for his actions, he but did as he was 
 impelled. And as to the infliction of evil by the em- 
 ployment of force, how could there be any, since the 
 circumstances brought to bear on the patient were but 
 the needful discipline to bend him to the yoke of Social- 
 ism, and make him happy ? In fact, the socialist is the 
 ' social father' — the rest of the world are his children, 
 whose characters are formed for them by the great pa- 
 rent ; and if any of his family continue refractory in his 
 hands, he is authorised, by the relation he bears to the 
 child, to resort to all needful severity. I have, indeed, 
 no fear that the present Head of Socialism could ever find 
 it in his heart to employ compulsion, but I have seen too 
 nauch of the spirit of persecution in some of his satellites, 
 
6i 
 
 to think it would be safe that they should be invested 
 with power ; and I frankly say, that though some of 
 their views favour the use of force, I should fear their 
 passions more than their principles. In their case, as 
 in every other, persecution would, in the main, have to 
 be charged on the lower impulses of human nature. 
 
 I have proved that Christianity did not introduce 
 persecution ; I have proved that Christian authorities 
 are not guilty to the extent alleged ; I have shown that 
 the imputation, in general, lies against human passions; 
 and now, keeping in mind the distinction which I men- 
 tioned in my first lecture, and which I consider most 
 important, between Christianity and the religion of 
 Christ — that wliich is prevalent in the world and that 
 which is found in the gospel histories, I proceed, lastly, 
 to consider whether the religion of Christ affords a 
 sanction to bigotry and intolerance. What is the real 
 question ? It is simply this, — does the religion of 
 Christ authorize me to employ force, to make you think 
 as I think ? Now, I at once deny the possibility of 
 any such authority. If the religion of Christ bade me 
 persecute, the only legitimate consequence would be, 
 the supcrccssion of its own authority, not the devolu- 
 tion of authority on another. Any system stands self- 
 condemned, which interferes with the rights of con- 
 science. The divinity of its origin is contradicted by 
 the fact of its authorising persecution. Vou cannot 
 prove its divinity to me, by any evidence superior to my 
 in-born right to think and speak with entire freedom. 
 
 Again ; should it even appear that Jesus himself was 
 a persecutor, — what then? How do I get to the con- 
 clusion, that I have a right to persecute? Are his 
 circumstances and mine the same ? Can I call forth 
 the dead to attest the divinity of my mission ? Have 
 I the breadth and depth of light which illuminated his 
 mind ? Is his benevolence mine ? In other word>, 
 Am I he, or one with like authority' 
 
65 
 
 Once more: — Suppose that he inflicted penalties on 
 disbelief, is that any sanction why I should force the pro- 
 fession of my creed on a fellow-man ? What guarantee 
 can I have that my creed is the creed of Christ ? I may so 
 consider it — but am I infallible ? And if I saw eye to eye 
 with Jesus, how does it follow that I am to do as he did 
 in regard to matters of belief? Even if you succeed in 
 proving that he commanded the apostles to employ com- 
 pulsion, you are scarcely advanced a step over the im- 
 measurable space which separates him from me. 
 
 The errors to which I have now alluded spring from a 
 prolific source — from that parent error, that whatever is 
 found in the histories of Christ is common to all men of 
 all ages. Now, the truth is, that in them there is little 
 that is common, and almost every thing peculiar — pecu- 
 liar in its strict, full, and proper meaning, to the indivi- 
 duals themselves in connection with whom it first oc- 
 curred. To them, and for them, was the word ; to, and 
 for us, is the spirit. But in gathering up that spirit, 
 we must separate from it every thing of an individual, 
 local, and transient nature ; and, in an especial man- 
 ner, all those functions which Jesus exercised, in vir- 
 tue of his extraordinary character, peculiar circum- 
 stances, and divine commission. 
 
 But I altogether deny that the religion of Christ gives 
 any encouragement to bigotry and intolerance. I have 
 argued that it could not, in the nature of things, afford 
 a sanction to persecution; and now I maintain as a fact, 
 that it does not interfere with, but guarantees^ the rights 
 of conscience. 
 
 Among its highest duties stands the service of God ; 
 of God, I say, in contradistinction to the service of man. 
 What is that service ? In general, the surrender of the 
 whole of our being to his will ; and, specifically and 
 essentially, the gift of the heart. Hence religion is a 
 
66 
 
 concern which lies exclusively between the individual 
 and his God. The right of human control is, in conse- 
 quence, excluded. Conscience is the domain of reli- 
 gion — and who but God has access or power there ? 
 The essence of true religion is in its spirituality. It is a 
 power within — not an external show, nor an external 
 reality. It consists in certain states of the mind, w^hich 
 force can neither form nor crush. Religion, then, lies 
 beyond the province of human power. Its seat is placed 
 within the Iweast by him who is its author ; and who, by 
 the very fact, has guaranteed its safety from all the ap- 
 pliances of compulsion ; and so has it been found that 
 laws and penalties are utterly powerless to make men 
 religious ; — professors, hypocrites, martyrs, they may 
 create, but not one truly religious emotion can they pro- 
 duce. Spontaneousness is the essential attribute of re- 
 ligion. It is a natural sentiment, an instinct ; and you 
 may as well try to make a mother love her child by force, 
 as think to excite or change a religious feeling by per- 
 secution. 
 
 Besides, the religion of Jesus, in its application to 
 us, is faith. But faith in what ? Faith not in articles 
 and creeds and catechisms. Jesus himself proposed 
 none, has left none. But faith in himself; faith, 
 that is, in tlie qualities which formed his character — faith 
 in devotedness to the will of God and the service 
 of man — faith in the ethcacy of truth and the power of 
 love; in otlicr words, it is trust towards our Heavenly 
 Father, and benevolence towards our brethren of mankind. 
 The faith of the gospel histories is of a moral nature, 
 consisting in the practical acknowledgement of tlie 
 worth and efficacy of the several human emotions which 
 distinguished, adorned, and blessed the life of Jesus. 
 Its faith, therefore, is confidence in God, and love to 
 man ; it is fidelity to our own nature, our own opportu- 
 nities, our own convictions. And, if any thing can be— 
 
67 
 
 such a faith is far beyond the reach of human control^ 
 and all the appliances of orce. And thus, God the author 
 of the religion of Jesus, has guaranteed its security. 
 Can a prison make me devout ? Will the rack create 
 the love of human kind ? If I am insensible to the 
 charities and sympathies which filled the breast and 
 glowed in the life of Christ, is it in your power to 
 open my heart to them by menace, or fire, or sword ? 
 What have these material instruments to do with feelings 
 which are essentially and purely moral in their origin, 
 their developement, and their expression ? 
 
 You allege that Jesus threatened damnation on those 
 who did not believe? And if he did, w^hat right have I 
 to do the same ? But in truth, Jesus did not threaten, 
 he simply declared a fact. His words are not minatory, 
 but declaratory. And what do they declare ? Not that 
 even the men of his own day — much less others differently 
 circumstanced, would be consigned to the regions of 
 woe for an intellectual error, but that condemnation 
 would ensue, as a natural consequence, on that moral 
 condition which was the reverse of his own. He him- 
 self has given the commentary — and ' this is the con- 
 demnation that though light has come into the world, men 
 love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are 
 evil.' (John iii, 19.) And if men, through an evil heart 
 of unbelief, prefer the slavery of sense to the adoption of 
 the sons of God, prefer revenge to forgiveness, and hatred 
 to love, what can ensue but misery? — what can their 
 state be, but one of condemnation — self-condemnation, 
 for their own hearts condemn them ; and condemnation 
 on the part of every mind, whether in the visible or 
 invisible world, which loveth righteousness and hateth 
 iniquity, and is therefore pledged to the furtherance of 
 the one and the extirpation of the other? In other 
 words — and words which, perhaps, will convey the truth 
 more exactly and more intelligibly, at least to the- 
 
68 
 
 unbeliever, iniquity of heart and life is disapproved of 
 God and man. Whence you may, at once, and without 
 a word of commentary on my part, infer how grossly 
 erroneous is the view which Mr. Owen himself has 
 given of the nature of the religion of Christ, whose 
 
 * fundamental doctrines' he declares to be these, — 
 
 * Believe in my doctrines, as expounded by my priests, 
 from my sacred books; — second, feel as these doctrines, 
 thus expounded, direct you to feel ; — and third, support 
 my ministers for thus instructing vou.'* 
 
 The great principles, then, of the religion of Christ 
 are absolutely incompatible with persecution. 
 
 For a moment, advert to the particular moral qualities 
 which it condemns, and those which it encourages. 
 What arc they which it condemns ? Pride, selfishness, 
 the love of dominion. Now, these, as we have seen, 
 are the very qualities which engender persecution. 
 What are they which it encourages ? Meekness, 
 forbearance, and universal love. And are not these 
 the parents of tolerance, and of that charity, or Christian 
 love, so beautifully and eloquently described by Paul, 
 among whose attributes is found every tiling needful to 
 convert mankind into a family of brotliers. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to give actual instances ; yet 
 as socialists, perhaps, no more than did one of their pre- 
 decessors, f keep a Bible, it may not be useless to cite 
 one or two. Peter was ready to employ violence in de- 
 fence of his master; but the command was (Matt. xxvi. 
 52.) ' Put up thy sword again into its place, for all they 
 that take the sword shall perish by the sword.' After 
 having given that most striking lesson of meekness by 
 "washing his disciples' feet, Jesus expressly forbids 
 (Matt. XX. 25.) his disciples to imitate the Gentiles by 
 exercising dominion and authority ; * but whosoever 
 
 ♦ Book of the New Moral World, p. 94. London, Wibon. t P»iae. 
 
will be great amongst you, let him be your minister ; 
 and whosoever will be chief amongst you, let him be 
 your servant, even as the Son of Man came not to be 
 ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a 
 ransom for many.' Again : — ' Be ye not called Rabbi, 
 for one is your master, even Christ, and all ye are 
 brethren.' (Matt, xxvii. 8.) It cannot be imagined that 
 the idea of persecution did not present itself to the mind 
 of Jesus. It did ; and what was his language ? ' Blessed 
 are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake ; 
 when they persecute you in one city, flee into another.' 
 But against persecutors themselves our Lord uttered the 
 severest condemnation. (Matt, xxiii. 29 — 39.) And on 
 whom did his blessing descend ? ' Blessed are the 
 meek.' * Blessed are the merciful.' ' Blessed are the 
 peace-makers.' (Matt, v.) What was his express com- 
 mand ? The love of God is the first commandment ; the 
 second, thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. (Matt, 
 xxii. 35.) ' This is my commandment, that ye love one 
 another, as I have loved you.' ' By this shall all men 
 know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to 
 another.' (John xv. 12. xiii. 35.) It hath been said, 
 * Thou shalt love thy neighbour and hate thine enemies ; 
 but I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that 
 curse you, andpra^ for them which despitefuUy use you 
 and persecute you.' (Matt. vi. 43.) 
 
 Jesus, then, does more than disallow persecution ; he 
 disallows its causes, he cuts off its springs, he lays the 
 axe to the root of the tree, making the heart gentle and 
 kind, that the life may be harmless and beneficent. 
 
 Then look at his character. Is it that of a bigot, or 
 of a benefactor — of a persecutor, or a sufferer? — what is 
 the feature whicti shines forth in the general tenor of 
 his life and death? Is it not benevolence, universal 
 good-will ? What was his mission ? To seek and 
 eave that which was lost. W^hat was the burden of his 
 
70 
 
 teachings? The Gospel — that is, good news, good news, 
 glad tidings to all people. What was his destiny? 
 To suffer and die. What was his reward? To rise 
 again that he might accomplish the travail of his soul, 
 and bring peace on earth, good-will among men. What 
 was the petition in his dying prayer ? An entreaty for 
 the forgiveness of his murderers. And what were his 
 last words ? ' It is finished ! ' It is finished ? and yet no 
 creed set forth, no priesthood organized, no church 
 endowed with wealth and power — no recompense taken 
 or enjoined for the injuries he or his had suffered ! You 
 remember the rebuke he gave to the persecuting spirit 
 of his disciples. Yes ; intolerance stood in the presence 
 of Jesus, recommended by the wish of his intimate asso- 
 ciates; and it was mildly, but firmly, discountenanced. 
 * Call down fire from heaven on these Samaritans who 
 refuse you food, and are thus as inhospitable as they 
 are heretical.' * Ye know not what spirit ye are of; 
 for the Son of Man came not to destroy men's lives, but 
 to save them.* Thus taught, thus lived, and thus died, 
 the author and finisher of our faith. Who, then, can 
 say that his religion sanctions persecution ? Who can 
 deny that it inculcates and cherishes the freest liberty 
 of mind, and the kindliest and most catholic affections 
 of the heart ? No ! the man that has the spirit of Christ 
 can be no other than kind, tender-hearted, forgiving — 
 gentle alike to the errors, frailties, and transgressions 
 of his brethren. He knows too well his own failings, to 
 be severe on the failings of others. He cherishes too 
 carefully his own rights, to entertain any other feeling 
 than a wish to secure and enlarge the liberties of each 
 and all of the human family — to aid them in their search 
 after truth, and build them up in every pure, holy, and 
 kindly feeling. And so, for myself, my friends, I trust 
 that I am so deeply aware of the difficulties which ac- 
 company the discovery of moral and religious truth, and 
 
71 
 
 the yet greater difficulties which wait upon its open 
 profession — that I am so impressed with the value of 
 mental honesty, and so convinced of its rarity — that 
 for worlds, I would not lay the burden of a little 
 finger on any man's conscience, but be prompt to ex- 
 press the admiration which I feel for the honest avowal 
 and consistent maintenance of any convictions whatever. 
 In my mind, there is but one* unpardonable sin — unpar- 
 donable, inasmuch as it eats like a canker into the heart, 
 destroying virtue and destroying happiness ; — I mean, 
 to profess what you do not belie^'e, and to make your 
 hypocrisy a source of worldly gain. I am not, indeed, 
 insensible to the injurious tendencies of error. I pity 
 the sufferers, but I dare not condemn them; and be- 
 cause I pity, I love them ; and as I love their persons, 
 so would I rejoice to remove their false opinions, and 
 lead them into the way of trutk. 
 
LECTURE IV. 
 
 An Unitarian minister was not long since told by one, 
 whose state of mind, in some respects, was not unsuited 
 to the adoption of Unitarian opinions, that he was pre- 
 vented from doing so mainly by the consideration, 
 that while Unitarian ministers claimed no higher au- 
 thority for their interpretations of Scriptm-e than their 
 own reason, Orthodox ministers claimed the autho- 
 rity of inspiration, and the immediate sanction of the 
 Holy Spirit. The answer of the minister in question 
 was — * Then the greater the pretension, the easier your 
 faith.' The implied absurdity was not denied. And 
 thousands are of the same way of thinking. Thousands ? 
 The bulk of men, even in this enlightened country and 
 in this enlightened age, are taken and made captive the 
 more readily, the more ample and showy the preten- 
 sions are. Indeed, for success you must not be scanty 
 in your claims. If your professions are modest, you 
 are sure to fail. It is only those who can make gran- 
 deur sit easily upon them that can impose on the multi- 
 tude. But such persons may obtain converts to almost 
 any absurdity. Proclaim it all over the land that you 
 have discovered a medicine which will heal, not some, 
 but all diseases, and, provided you take sufficient time 
 and trouble, you are sure to bring thousands to your own 
 opinion, and will be rewarded more richly than the real 
 benefactors of mankind. Declare that you only know 
 the right path to heaven, and that all who do not follow 
 your guidance will infallibly be lost ; believe this your- 
 self, and insist on your conviction, you will not fail to 
 become the founder of a sect, and, by the adoption of 
 
 G 
 
74 
 
 a part of his means, may rival in his success even the 
 apostle of Methodism. 
 
 I do not assert that there was any intention on the 
 part of Mr. Owen to avail himself of that love of the 
 wonderful to which I have just alluded ; but I know of 
 no system in which its influence is in fact so much ap- 
 pealed to, nor any in which it produces more decided 
 efifects. Owenism would almost appear to have been 
 constructed on the principle of producing the greatest 
 results from the least possible causes. What is its 
 aim ? The physical perfection of the species. So far 
 as its conception of happiness extends, it professes 
 to have in store for its followers the highest, purest, and 
 most stable happiness that man, either in his individual or 
 social capacity, can possibly enjoy ; — abundance, ease, 
 content; a wife, with the power of exchanging her 
 whenever it may be pleasant ; children, without any 
 care for their sustenance or education ; labor, only so 
 far as may be healthful and satisfactory — and even this 
 small portion is not to be borne after the age of twenty- 
 five years.* In a word, Socialism proposes to realise its 
 own definition of man, and make him ' the chief of ani- 
 mals.' f No more poverty, no more ignorance, no more 
 suffering, no more inequality : — in the words of one o 
 its expounders, ' conniuinity ' is to be *a paradise on 
 earth.' I Nor is there to be a spot where this para- 
 dise is not to extend. The vision of the Catholic 
 Church, in the pursuit of which she evil-entreated and 
 shed the blood of many of the best and wisest of men, — 
 this vision is to be turned into a reality, all men are to 
 be brought to think alike, and Socialism will be the one 
 imiversal faith. The wise of this world are to own 
 themselves fools; the ministers of religion will resign 
 
 * Owen's Lectures in Manchester, pp. 77, 78, 79. 
 t Catechism oT the New Moral World, p. 2. 
 1 Horton. 
 
75 
 
 their functions ; the nobility will divest themselves of 
 their distinctions ; kings and queens, of their own ac- 
 cord, will lay aside their sceptre and descend from their 
 throne ; — nay, greater wonders yet — family unions will 
 dissolve of themselves ; family ties will spontaneously 
 sunder ; the father's love towards his daughter will ex- 
 pand into universal benevolence ; and, ere very long, the 
 whole of human society will wonder to see itself break- 
 ing up all old and time-honored institutions, ideas, and 
 customs, and quietly, but earnestly, proceeding into that 
 parallelogram condition of happiness, called * Commu- 
 nity.' Such is the pretension. But that is a poor em- 
 piricism whose means are not as small as its ends are 
 grand. What are the means for this social revolution? 
 Almost exclusively a system of negations. Have the 
 apostles of Socialism discovered some hidden power of 
 the human breast ? or some latent productiveness in the 
 elements of material nature ? The greatest moral re- 
 formers of ancient or modern times have looked in the 
 main to the boundless energies of the human soul ; but 
 these are denied ; man has no power but the sponge- 
 like capacity of receiving a character made for him. Is 
 the change to be wrought by reviving and invigorating 
 conscience ? Its existence also is denied. Are the 
 great sanctions of eternity to be brought home to the 
 heart in new forms and holier and more quickening 
 power ? Eternity itself is denied. Perhaps the family 
 affections you intend to call forth into new energy, and 
 invest them with a refinement as disinterested as it is 
 lovely? Their existence you acknowledge, but their 
 legitimacy you deny. Where, then, is your source of 
 power ? In the infinite Father ? Do you propose to 
 stir and regenerate the breast with that venerable and 
 endearing name ? Alas ! you disown even the Supreme 
 Intelligence of the Universe. All the ordinary forms of 
 power you put away. Your teaching is, * Disbelieve 
 iR man's responsibility,' ' disbelieve in man's internal 
 
76 
 
 power/ * disbelieve in the sanctity of wedded love/ 
 * disbelieve in the lawfulness of family affection/ * ' dis- 
 believe in Christ, in religion, in eternity, in a creating 
 mind;' and you shall be excellent and happy, provided 
 you believe in something termed Socialism, which re- 
 lieves you from all effort by declaring the omnipotence 
 of circumstances, at the very time that it is laboring to 
 show their impotency by turning the world upside down. 
 
 Easy of belief as men are found to be, I cannot for 
 myself imagine that Socialism could ever have assumed 
 its actual prominence, but for the peculiar constitution 
 of society in the present day. The greatest inequalities 
 are confronted by the greatest discontent. The affluent 
 and the needy are separated by a great gulf — the few 
 live in splendour, the bulk with a bare suthciency, and 
 many in squalidness and misery ; — learning, for the 
 most part, seeks its own ; the accredited dispensers of 
 religion, for the most part, seek their own ; and few, 
 indeed, the welfare of the poor; and, therefore, the peo- 
 ple now, at last, roused to see their condition and know 
 their rights — the people, many of them at least, feel 
 an intense and jealous dissatisfaction, which inclines 
 thera to any fair shows wliich promise, however delu- 
 sively, an improvement of their lot. And because I think 
 them more to be pitied than blamed, I am desirous to 
 expose groundless pretensions, and to conciliate towards 
 an effort which must of necessity touch on things with 
 which the Christian is familiar, and of which he needs 
 no fresh evidence or illustration, that forbearance and 
 favor which my Christian hearers will, I have no doubt, 
 feel ought to be extended to those who think it their 
 duty to adapt a part of their ministrations to the special 
 wants of the locality and circumstances in the midst of 
 which they are placed. 
 
 You have seen what Socialism proposes to effect ; you 
 
 * Owen's Marriage S^itcm, p. 37. 
 
77 
 
 have heard something of its instrumentality. Such is 
 this new light of the whole world. If the light in it is 
 darkness, how entire must that darkness be. It is no 
 wonder, therefore, that amidst other fond opinions, it 
 should have gone so far as to affirm that ' the cause of 
 the universe is unknown;' and when you have consi- 
 dered the complexion which this self-styled philosophy 
 wears, perhaps, my Christian friends, you will think 
 with me that the Atheistical tendencies of this system 
 are not likely to prove very formidable. 
 
 Let nie^ however, justify my intimation, that Owen- 
 ism has Atheistical tendencies ; and I feel this to be the 
 more needful, not so much because the word Atheism is 
 a word of reproach in the world, as because the impu- 
 tation of Atheism to a person is very like a reflection on 
 his understanding, if not a charge against his heart. In 
 the case, however, of the originator of Socialism, I look 
 for its origin in the disorder of a mind not distinguished 
 by power, whose benevolent feelings the existing cor- 
 ruptions of society have made not only morbid^ but averse 
 to all established forms of truth. 
 
 But is Owenism a form of Atheism ? In proceeding 
 to what I trust will be an equitable judgment^, I ask what 
 is Atheism? Atheism is accurately described in the 
 language of the New Testament, as ' being without God 
 in the world.' The man, then, is an Atheist, who acknow- 
 ledges no God. It does not require to make a man an 
 Atheist, that he should positively deny the existence of 
 a God — it is enough, if he has no God. And what is 
 intended by the word God ? The word God represents 
 an idea, and that idea is the conception and acknow- 
 ledgment of an wfinite Intelligence, as the sole 
 Creator of the Universe. So that an Atheist is one who 
 denies, or disowns, or does not acknowledge, a creatine 
 Mind, a first great intelligent Cause of all that is. 
 And here let it be observed, that so far as the fact is 
 
 g2 
 
78 
 
 concerned, there is little difference between the man 
 who denies, and the man who does not own, a creating 
 Mind. Their condition is essentially the same, inasmuch 
 as they are both without God, and both consequently 
 Atheists. When you say that you have enquired, and 
 found no evidence to shew you there is a supreme creative 
 Intelligence, you differ very little from another person, 
 who, being of a bolder turn of mind, declares that he too 
 has enquired, and is sure there is not a supreme creative 
 Intelligence. Essentially, these are but different forms 
 of the same statement. Now what, then, are Mr. 
 Owen's declarations? 'The cause of the universe is 
 * unknown,'* 'whence the power which designs, or what 
 its attributes, no man has yet ascertained. 'f The doctrine 
 then is that there is a cause, but that cause is unknown 
 to us. This I consider a form of Atheism. An unknown 
 cause is, to the person to whom it is unknown, no cause 
 at all. What do we mean by a cause? A cause is 
 that which we recognize as the producer of certain 
 effects. And making this recognition, we acknowledge 
 its adequacy to give birth to the effects in question. In 
 other words, we know its qualities, and consider them 
 as the sufficient forerunners of the facts for which we 
 have to account. So that to assert, in any case, the 
 existence of a cause, is to assert the existence of certain 
 qualities, and also to assert the exertion of those qualities 
 m bringing about the given result. When, therefore, 
 you declare one ihinj^r to be the cause of another, 
 you declare that it possesses qualities competent to pro- 
 duce the effect in question. And to affirm that some- 
 thing is the cause of the universe, and then to declare 
 that of that something you know nothing, is to take 
 from the word cause nil meaning, to trifle with language, 
 or lo employ ;i rontmilicfion in tmns. A ciuisr. so far 
 
 ♦ ikok of U.c -Ncn Mo;:il Wt.M. |.. h. t lli.i p. Is. 
 
79 
 
 as it is acknowledged to be the cause of any effect, 
 must be known. There may be mysteries connected 
 with it into which you cannot penetrate, but as of these 
 you know, so also you assert, nothing". What you 
 declare is, that a certain power is adequate to the 
 production of a certain effect ; and if you proceed to add 
 that this acknowledged cause is unknown, you shew 
 that you do not understand the terms you employ, and 
 are darkening counsel with words without knowledge. 
 And Socialism must make its election between the word 
 cause and the word 'unknown'; if it retains the^first, 
 and acknowledges a cause, then consistency exacts the 
 rejection of the term unknown; if it -will keep the word 
 unknown, it can by no possibility have a right to the 
 word cause. An unknown cause is as incompatible a 
 combination of ideas, as white blackness, finite infinity, 
 the hidden discovered, the bright obscure. Whatever 
 is a cause to me, must be known as that cause, and as 
 possessed of the attributes requisite in the case. And 
 as Owenism knows nothing of the cause of the universe, 
 it can recognize a cause only in name ; it uses a word, 
 but professes to have no ideas to attach to it, and is 
 consequently without God ; in other words, a form of 
 Atheism. 
 
 This conclusion cannot be subverted but by evading 
 the question, — and the attempt has been made. It has 
 been replied — ' If the circumstance of a cause being un- 
 known be a proof of its own existence, we must believe 
 that effects can be produced without causes.'* What 
 then ? Does my reasoning go to show that Socialism, 
 by denying the attributes of the Deity, blots the Deity 
 himself out of the universe ? A cause being unknown is 
 no proof of its non-existence. Galvanism existed ages 
 before it was known. But its existence was then only 
 known when its qualities were known ; and now it can 
 
 '^ Haslam's Reply. 
 
80 
 
 be recognised as the cause of given efifects only by those 
 to whom its qualities are not unknown, but known. My 
 position is, that an unknown cause is no cause at all to 
 those to whom it is unk)iown. And the very words em- 
 ployed establish the point. Take a case. It was lately 
 stated in the newspapers, that the hands of a clock de- 
 noting true time were exhibited in a shop window in 
 London, unaccompanied by any machinery. An igno- 
 rant rustic looks at the wonder, concludes it must have 
 a cause, but knows not what that cause is. The philo- 
 sopher investigates the case, and assigns magnetism as 
 the cause. He has discovered something equal to the 
 production of the eflects. But, to the rustic, magne- 
 tism is not the cause of the movement of the hands. He 
 knows nothing of its existence, its qualities, or their 
 application in the case ; and therefore, failing to re- 
 cognise it as the cause, he is without the real cause, and 
 has nothing more than a vague feeling that something 
 or other must occasion the eflects. To him the cause is 
 unknown ; and to him, in consequence, whatever it may 
 be in fact and to a wiser man, magnetism is no cause at 
 all. And of what service to him is the blind admission 
 that the movement of the liands must have had a cause ( 
 Does it afford liim one glimpse of liirht on the subject ? 
 Can it exphxin tlie phenomena ? ^Vill it enable him to 
 construct a similar machine ? And so with \i\n\ who says 
 the universe has had a cause, and with the same breath 
 athrms tliat of that cause he knows nothing ; — what 
 knowledge or impulse can he draw from his admission I 
 It is only so far as we know the qualities of causes, 
 whether physical or moral, tliat we can turn them to our 
 own benefit. A watch or a steam engine, in the hands 
 of a barbarian, would either prove useless, or be dashed 
 to pieces. 
 
 My friends, there is no mystery in the word cause ; 
 either it means nothing, or it means tliat which is ca- 
 pable of producing tlie given effect. You therefore ac- 
 
81 
 
 knowledge either an unknown nothing, or an unknown 
 power capable of producing the universe. Now, to de- 
 clare that a power is at once unknown and capable of 
 producing a certain effect, is to assert a palpable con- 
 tradiction. Unknown capacities doubtless may exist ; 
 but powers have no existence to those to whom they are 
 unknow^n. America existed before Columbus disco- 
 vered it; but to all the ancient world it was unknown, 
 and as such had no existence. The blood circulated 
 through the frame as much of the ignorant Roman as 
 of the enlightened Harvey. To the first the existence 
 of its circulation was not, with the other it was, the 
 proximate cause of life. In fact, the idea of causation 
 is one which rises in and belongs exclusively to the 
 mind ; and he who acknowledges no connexion between 
 certain preceding qualities and certain consequent effects, 
 admits, in any given case, no cause whatever, has not, 
 indeed, formed the idea of cause, has not brought his 
 mind into that condition in which the acknowledgment 
 of a cause consists. In other words, acknowledgment 
 is indispensable. You must acknowledge or admit cer- 
 tain qualities as the immediate precursors of certain 
 effects, or you allow no cause. But acknowledgment 
 and ignorance are incompatible states of mind ; acknow- 
 ledged qualities, unknown qualities, are discordant and 
 opposite statements : that which is unknown) to ^ a si^ind 
 it cannot acknowledge. Socialism , then, cannot acknow- 
 ledge the cause of the universe, since of that cause it 
 professes to know nothing. At the very utmost, it can 
 only erect another altar to 'the unktnown God.* 
 
 We shall find our assertion, that Socialism is a form 
 of Atheism, confirmed, if we look a little farther into 
 the language it employs respecting this unkf pwn clause. 
 Avowed Atheism itself is not so insane as to deny a 
 cause of the universe. Its office has generally been to 
 confound the Deity in some way with his works. Ac- 
 
82 
 
 cordingly, Socialism tells us that ' it is of no importance 
 whether men call the cause of the universe matter or 
 spirit, because such names alter nothing, explain no- 
 thing.'* Matter, then, may be assigned as the cause 
 of the universe. In other words, the sun, moon, and 
 stars, the earth and the seas, may have produced them- 
 selves. What is this but rank Atheism ? Then notice 
 the reason — ' such names alter nothing, explain no- 
 thing;' — we may therefore say, matter contrives, mat- 
 ter fears, matter hopes. There is, consequently, no 
 distinction between the steam engine and him who 
 
 o 
 
 brought it to perfection ; essentially they are the same, 
 made up of the same essential qualities, in whatever 
 accidental shapes they may appear ; and as, according 
 to this wise philosophy, the shapes are accidental, we 
 must not be surprised if that which is essential to both 
 should some day exert its power, and man pass into a 
 steam engine, and a stoam engine into a man. 
 
 In the passage on which I am now animadverting, we 
 have the whole question which is at issue between the 
 Theist and the Atheist; and it is simply this, whether 
 the cause of the universe is matter or mind; in other 
 words, that which thinks, or that which is incapable of 
 thought. Is there an Intelligence that designed and 
 executed the wonderful mechanism which we see on 
 every side — or did that mechanism produce itself ? Mat- 
 ter or mind must be the cause of the universe. Now 
 we can conceive of mind being the cause of matter, but 
 not matter the cause of mind. The greater may pro- 
 duce the less, not the less the greater. That which has 
 not a certain quality, cannot impart that quality. The 
 brute earth does not think, and could not therefore give 
 birth to thinking men. In society around us, it is the 
 human mind which brings forth all the creations we be- 
 
 ♦ No. 82, New Mona World. 
 
83 
 
 hold ; and we are thus led, by the force of circum- 
 stances, to ascribe similar creations in the universe to a 
 similar result. 
 
 Or let the argument be put in this manner ; — either 
 the cause of the universe could think, or it could not ; if 
 not, it was incapable of producing thought, and could 
 never have given birth to the order, adaptations, and 
 beauty, which are lavished in the universe ; if it could 
 think, then is it intelligent, then is it competent to the 
 known effects, then is there a God, then is Atheism 
 confuted; and, instead of being of no importance, it is 
 of every possible importance, that men should call and 
 consider the cause of the universe, not matter, but spi- 
 rit or mind — should assert, that whatever else it is, it is 
 capable of thought, and therefore of design, and there- 
 fore also of wisdom and goodness. 
 
 Again ; Mr. Owen himself affirms that this unknown 
 cause is now ' nature,' and now * the laws of nature ;' 
 and, as if to confound the mind by incongruous ideas, 
 adds, that ' truth is nature, and nature God.'* It is with 
 equal inconsistency, that the person who in one part of 
 his instructions distinctly asserts that we know nothing 
 of the Divine attributes, should in another affirm, not 
 only that the unknown cause has attributes, but ' attri- 
 butes to govern the universe as it is governed,' and that 
 these attributes are ' infinite, eternal, uncaused, omni- 
 present.'f Now what a confusion of ideas have we here. 
 Let us put the words of this light of ' the new moral 
 world ' together ; — ' the unknown cause of the universe 
 is nature, is truth, is the laws of nature ; this unknown 
 cause, whose attributes are undiscovered, is uncaused, 
 infinite, eternal, omnipresent.' Thus inconsistent is 
 error generally found to be ; — an unknown known! an 
 
 * Book of New Moral World, p. 91.— No. 82, New Moral World, 
 t No. 82, New Moral World. 
 
84 
 
 injinite, eternal, omnipresent cause, without attri- 
 butes! * Truth is God, and God is nature;* in other words, 
 truth — a mere relation of ideas in the human mind — is 
 Deity ; and God, the cause of all, is nature, or that 
 ■which is produced ; — the very term nature is incompa- 
 tible with the idea of causation, for nature properly sig- 
 nifies that which continually comes into being.* And 
 so, what are Hhe laws of nature' but the manner of 
 that ceaseless birth ? To identify the cause of the uni- 
 verse with the modes of his action — to attempt tc ex- 
 clude an intelligence from the universe by talking of 
 laws — a mere abstract term, a word which, apart from 
 ■intelligence, can produce nothing, nay, which, for its 
 veiy existence, implies and pre-supposes a lawgiver, — 
 to resort to such inconsistencies, and to pick up these 
 stale crumbs on which Atheism has, in one form or 
 another, been already starved, serves only to show to 
 what shifts men are driven when they embark on the 
 ocean of godless speculation, and how deeply sunk in 
 infidel philosophy this Socialism is. 
 
 And, indeed, whatever Socialism maybe in theory, in 
 practice what else but Atheism can it prove, since it 
 not only disallows all worship,! all private or social 
 acknowledgment of the Deity, but ascribes innumerable 
 ills to the prevalence of such homage : and ir their 
 attacks on religion, Socialists never seem more at their 
 ease, than when turning into ridicule the ideas and 
 ob8cr\'ances which the bulk of their fellow-countrymen 
 regard with the profoundest reverence, and the most 
 sacred attachment. For myself, I consider Socialism 
 worse than any form of mere speculative Atheism that 
 ever appeared, for, week by week, it gives 'its unholy 
 lessons to the poor, the ignorant, and the young, 
 teaching them, by precept and example, to laugh at 
 
 * \ascor, nasoi. nalttnrs iu*n. f No o*2, N(?\v Moral World. 
 
85 
 
 God, Christ, and Eternity. True, there may be Theists 
 in the ranks of Owenism ; there may even be — though I 
 can hardly think it possible — a few professed Christians • 
 — but those who know what its actual workings are, 
 know that in general its influence is one of a scornful, 
 withering infidelity. As such it should be known. As 
 such I proclaim it. Its adherents — if they be true to 
 their principles — will thank me for so doing; and I 
 devoutly hope that others who may be * lingering on 
 the brink,' will take warning in time, and have reason 
 to thank me too. I say take warning ; I deal not in 
 alarm, but I retract not the word, for every one who 
 would have his mind influenced by the better principles 
 of his nature, ought to take warning, and lay the 
 warning to heart, when he is in danger of being drawn 
 into an atmosphere where his devotional feelings must 
 be blighted, and where, ere he can have learned to reason, 
 he will be trained to sneer. 
 
 Nothing but an attendance in the vortex of their 
 unhallowed discussions themselves — where Socialists 
 speak without restraint, and the spirit of the system 
 comes out freely, — can give a full idea of the blighting 
 and scornful infidelity which Socialism aims to spread 
 abroad. Yet enough — alas ! too much, may be learnt 
 from their published writings. One* of their authors 
 afiirms, that ' throughout the Old Testament the Deity 
 is represented as a furious, angry, wrathful, jealous and 
 malignant God,' and declares a description of operations 
 of the Deity given in the Psalms to be 'absurd, 
 ridiculous, yea, in sober earnestness, monstrous.' — The 
 same lecturer f indulges in a parody of prayer, in which 
 such revolting familiarity is used with the Deity, and 
 such vile sentiments ascribed to the supposed Christian 
 
 * Lunn, p. 18, f Luun, p. 14. 
 
 H 
 
at) 
 
 worshippers, that I cannot bring- myself to the low office 
 of transcribing his words. Another authority* asserts 
 that the Bible sets forth God as * a vain, foolish, and 
 cruel old man,' and in animadverting on many passages 
 of Scripture, uses language even worse than what I am 
 about to transcribe. On the words — * whose top (the 
 tower of Babel) may reach to heaven,' he remarks, 
 ' What mighty penetration ! Why, the wretched simple- 
 tons, did they think heaven was just above their heads, 
 and that they could creep into it in this manner V And on 
 the words, 'The Lord came down to see the city,' — he 
 says, * Did he ? He was up in the garret, I suppose, 
 and he came down stairs to see what his children were all 
 about. Are you not ashamed of such balderdash?' 
 Mr. Owen himself affirms, that ' the intellects of man 
 have been deranged through so many ages by these 
 religious mysteries, they now gravely propound as 
 divine truths,' which * divine truths' mean nothing more 
 than assertions which will not bear the examination of 
 reason, or the test of common sense;' and among these — 
 * this wild combination of absurdities,' as he terms them 
 in another place, he ranks, ' First, that there is e being 
 who made and who governs the universe ; that this 
 being is infinite in knowledge, in power, and in good- 
 ness. 'f So also he declares that the religions founded 
 under the name of ' Jehovah, God, or Christ, amount 
 only to throe absurdities, three gross impositions on the 
 ignorance or inexperience of mankind ; ' again — * that 
 man has created a personal Deity, author of all good, 
 and a personal devil, author of all evil, invented all the 
 forms of worship of the one, and, in many instances, of 
 the latter also,' * All tlie mythology of the ancients, 
 and all the religions of the moderns, are mere fanciful 
 
 * Ilaslam, Letters to the Clergy, 
 t Owen's Lectures in Manchester. 
 
87 
 
 notions of men, wliosc imaginations have been cultivated 
 to accord with existing prejudices, and whose judg- 
 ments have been systematically destroyed from their 
 birth.'* 
 
 I could cite other, and certainly not less offensive 
 passages, and I now ask if I have overcharged the pic- 
 ture — if Socialism is not, in fact and in spirit, a low 
 and degrading infidelity ? I ask, also, those of my 
 audience who bear the parental relation, whether they 
 would not be horror-stricken at the idea of their own 
 children coming into contact with such demoralising 
 influences ? And if you are thus tender for your own 
 offspring, surely you cannot be without solicitude for 
 the young of other families — for young men and women 
 who have few, in some cases scarcely any, of the safe- 
 guards of religious feeling and religious conviction, 
 which a sound education affords. And who that has 
 any personal experience of ^ the support to virtue — the 
 sources of happiness, of improvement and refinement 
 that the religion of Jesus brings, would not gladly turn 
 from this Cimmerian darkness, to enquire for truth of 
 * Christ, the wisdom of God and the power of God?' 
 Now in relation to the cause of the universe, Jesus 
 presents to us the being whom he designated 'his 
 Father and our Father, his God and our God,' as the 
 primary cause, the sole support, and the beneficent 
 guardian of all things. In other words, there is a 
 creating God, and * God is spirit,* or pure Intelligence. 
 Mind, therefore, is the author of the universe. This is 
 the fundamental fact of the religion of Jesus. It affirms 
 that the universe is not the result of a fortuitous con- 
 course of atoms, not evolved out of elements inherent 
 in itself, but truly the production of Intelligence. 
 
 I shall offer one or two confirmations of this great 
 
 * Book of tlie Ne-w Moral World, p. 94, 
 
88 
 
 fundamental truth. I will first take Socialism on its 
 own ground. The cause of the universe is known or 
 unknown. Say it is unknown; — you goat once, as I 
 have proved, into palpable Atheism. But you reply — 
 ' We admit a cause, though an unknown cause.' You 
 admit a cause — What has led you to that admission ? — 
 what is your evidence ? The fact of the existence of 
 the world and its inhabitants ? But why ? Is it be- 
 cause every effect must have a cause ? Then it is no 
 less true that every effect must have an adequate cause ; 
 and by consequence, that which made the world must 
 be equal to the work he made. If so, the maker is 
 known by his works. In the admission of an adequate 
 cause you have admitted an intelligent Deity, for the 
 effects you have to account for require for their produc- 
 tion no less the operation of intelligence than they re- 
 quire a cause at all. In ascending from any effects to 
 their admitted cause, you, by the ver}' act, affirm that 
 the cause is equal to the effects produced ; in other 
 words, you know something of the cause to which you 
 ascend, otherwise you refer the effects to nothing, and 
 use words without meaning. 
 
 Take the other branch of the alternative ; — say the 
 cause is known, that some of its qualities arc known. 
 Whence this knowledge ? From the effects produced ? 
 Then what are the qualities, the attributes to which the 
 effects point ? This the effects themselves will enable 
 us to answer. What, then, is their character ? I have 
 no need to descend to any minuteness. What impress 
 do they obviously bear? Is it not of intelligence? 
 The making of a watch you refer to man ; for the round- 
 ing of a pebble, the action of flowing water is accounted 
 sufficient. The influence of matter is assigned as the 
 cause of the one ; for the other, you cannot rest satis- 
 fied till you have referred it to the action of mind. If 
 you look at the mere polish of its cover, the idea of in- 
 
telligence is not forced on your thoughts ; but the mo- 
 ment you mark its structure, and the concurrence of its 
 parts to one and a useful result, you think of the skill 
 of the master-mind which designed and constructed the 
 mechanism. What hinders a similar conclusion in re- 
 gard to the maker of the mind which made the watch ? 
 And having ascended from the mechanism of the watch 
 to its maker, and ascribed to him that degree of intelli- 
 gence which the structure of the several parts implies, 
 can you go from the maker of the watch to its maker, and 
 fail to refer any qualities to Him ? In both cases, you 
 must admit, at least, the operation of mind ; and I see 
 not why you should not in the case of the maker of the 
 man, as well as the maker of the watch, admit — I see 
 not how you can avoid admitting — so much mind, mind 
 of such quality and power, as the effects in each case 
 are found to indicate. And, indeed, whatever mystery 
 an atheistical philosophy may gather up out of its own 
 mists to throw around the existence of Deity, common 
 sense, which, by the mere force of the association of 
 ideas, by the fundamental principles of human reason- 
 ing, cannot avoid referring all effects to adequate causes 
 — common sense will lead men infallibly to see evi- 
 dences of an intelligent Deity in the works of nature, as 
 much as traces of the operation of mind in works of hu- 
 man skill. It is in vain to tell me you never saw a 
 world made. If you had, you would not need the evi- 
 dence of analogy. Nor have you, in all probability, nor 
 one human being in a million, ever seen a watch made. 
 General principles are your guide in both cases ; and 
 they are as trust-worthy in one instance as they are in 
 the other. It is a necessity of your nature — a necessity, 
 bred, if not born, with you — to refer all that you see to 
 some adequate cause, the universe as much as the pin. 
 And in the word ' adequate' is, in each case, an impli- 
 
 h2 
 
90 
 
 cation of qualities, — of qualities equal to the effect. In 
 regard, therefore, to the universe, you know something 
 of its author ; you know not only that he possesses in- 
 telligence, but intelligence of such a nature and extent 
 as would be competent to create and sustain this com- 
 plicated, boundless, and harmonious whole. On both 
 branches of the alternative, therefore, we are brought 
 to the admission of an intelligent cause. 
 
 Again ; — Socialism, as every system must which as- 
 pires to the character of a philosophy — Socialism is in- 
 cessantly occupied in forming and pronouncing judg- 
 ments respecting human character; in other words, re- 
 specting mind as variously possessed by man. Its great 
 conclusion, that a ' new moral world' is imperatively 
 demanded, and the instrumentality which it proposes to 
 employ, are grounded on the supposition that you have 
 accurate knowledge of the condition and workings of 
 the human mind. This knowledge is either trust-worthy, 
 or it is not. If undeserving confidence. Socialism is 
 but a dream. If it is worthy of trust, then tell me how 
 you have acquired it ? Is it not by watching the mani- 
 festations of miud ? — in other words, by taking note of 
 effects, of outward appearances, and proceeding from 
 them to internal qualities ? You see a man slay a bro- 
 ther-man ; and you ascribe to him at once, wrath, if net 
 malice, and go back to the melancholy circumstances 
 under which he was trained. You read a well-composed 
 treatise; your mind is enlightened, your heart is sof- 
 tened and lifted up; and just as are the qualities which 
 the writing exhibits, are the qualities also which you 
 ascribe to its author. You not only know that the book 
 must have had a cause, but a cause of a certain kind, — 
 you refer it to a mind gifted with high and noble powers. 
 And yet you atVirm that * the facts are not known which 
 declare what attributes arc possessed by the power' 
 
91} 
 
 which endowed that mind with its^ capacities. If so, 
 then, to be consistent, you must renounce your beHef 
 in any mental or moral qualities whatever. They are all 
 the result of inference ; and to say the least, the infe- 
 rence is as good and cogent in respect of the author of 
 the universe, as in respect of the author of the book. 
 
 It has been replied, that you see the one but do not see 
 the other. In the case of the author, what do you see ? 
 Not the producing mind, but the outside covering of a 
 being endowed with speech and motion. In general, 
 indeed, you see not so much. It is the work, and not 
 the author you see ; and few are they who have either 
 made a book, or seen a book made. And if even you, 
 an individual, have seen the process, how do you know- 
 that all books are the work of man ? Will you leap 
 from one instance to a universal conclusion? What 
 authority have you for this, but in that general principle 
 which most men receive without distinct evidence, that 
 like effects spring from like causes ? I admit the prin- 
 ciple; but then, how, after acting on it in regard to 
 some things, can you set it aside in regard to others ; 
 and if it enables you to know a human author by his 
 works, how can you consistently refuse to infer the at- 
 tributes of the power which produced the universe, from 
 the qualities which the universe displays ? But I recur 
 to the fact ; — you see in a fellow-man, not his mind, but 
 its manifestations ; and from those manifestations you 
 unhesitatingly and securely infer the qualities of his 
 mind. Are there not manifestations of mind in the out- 
 ward universe ? As then are they, so at least must be 
 its author. In fact, the argument for the existence of 
 the Divine mind is the same in kind (but immeasurably 
 stronger in degree) as that by which we human beings 
 are led to acknowledge the existence of mind in each 
 other. And I cannot conceive what better evidence any 
 
92 
 
 man can need of the existence and attributes of Deity, 
 than he possesses of the existence and qualities of the 
 mind of his friend, his partner, or his child. 
 
 Nor is the argument invalidated by the circumstance, 
 that in the case of man there is a certain form, a certain 
 visible ors^anisation. This form does not enter into the 
 argument at all ; it is a mere accident in the case. In 
 the author of the book, no organisation is seen by the 
 bulk of men. If one is inferred, that is a simple act of 
 the reason ; and what reason infers in one case, it may, 
 on evidence, infer or not infer in the other. That the 
 form in the case of man is a mere accident, may be 
 learnt from looking at other instances where qualities 
 are learned from seen effects. The needle points to the 
 pole, — hence you infer qualities which constitute what 
 men have agreed to designate magnetism. Has mag- 
 netism any outward form ? The atmosphere is troubled 
 with tempest, and lightning, and thunder ; and the ap- 
 plication of your knuckle to a piece of glass in a certain 
 state, draws forth sparks, and communicates a shock to 
 your whole frame. You call the cause of both these 
 effects, electricity. Does electricity present itself in 
 any organised form ? Yet the inferences from these 
 effects you not only receive without hesitation, but, to 
 show the certainty and trust-worthiness of your conciu> 
 sions, you dignify them with tiie name of science ; and 
 having systematised the conceptions of your own mind, 
 proceed to construct heaven and earth thereout, and 
 propound your 'electrical theory of the universe.' Yes, 
 it is out of the mere inferences and ideas of your own 
 minds that you make a world, and set aside the world's 
 maker ; and yet you blame us, in no polite nor mea- 
 sured terras, for thinking our conclusions as well-founded 
 and far more competent than yours. One of two things, 
 therefore, must you do ; either renounce the disclosures 
 
of science, or admit that qualities may be learnt from 
 facts without those facts being presented in any outward 
 form or bodily organisation. For the needle is not mag- 
 netism, but its vehicle — a vehicle which receives, im- 
 parts, and loses the magnetic power. The power itself, 
 the qualities in question, are independent of their acci- 
 dental locality. And so the manifestations of intelli- 
 gence in the organisations of the universe are not ne- 
 cessarily inherent in them. From them, therefore, we 
 rise to those attributes which made them what they are, 
 and are as sure as evidence can make us that the attri- 
 butes themselves must be equal to the effects they have 
 produced. 
 
 The Atheist will not be benefitted if he tries, by be- 
 wildering our minds in a cloud of metaphysics, to put a 
 God out of the universe, by asking, as he has asked — 
 * If every effect must have a cause, who then was the 
 cause of the God whom you recognise V Let him go 
 back with us to the remotest link in the chain of causa- 
 tion, he will still find something, some power to ac- 
 count for. What is his explanation ? He has none to 
 give which will not involve either the admission of a 
 great first Cause, which is Theism — the concession of all 
 we contend for; or an effect without a cause, which is 
 an absurdity ; or an eternal succession of effects, which 
 is a contradiction in terms. So far as knowledge leads 
 them, Theists go ; and guided by knowledge and expe- 
 rience, rest at last in a primary Intelligence — having 
 thus reached a cause adequate to the given effects, a 
 cause which both common sense and philosophy com- 
 bine to justify. The Atheist, on the contrary, com- 
 pelled by the principles of his nature to trace back effects 
 to causes to a certain length, at last stops short at an 
 effect without a cause; and by this, vitiates every step 
 in his previous reasoning. Thus he allows what he 
 
94 
 
 terms his ignorance in one particular, to overturn all his 
 most certain knowledge. Suppose, then, that he and I 
 are arrived at the last chain in causation which we can 
 trace, is his hypothesis, that there is no first cause at all, 
 less exceptionable or more probable than mine, who ad- 
 mit an original of the lengthened chain of eflfects, though 
 into the mode of its existence I am unable to penetrate, 
 and content myself with ascribing to it qualities such as 
 are equal to the production of the admitted effects ? In 
 science, is his the conduct which men pursue ? Do 
 they deny the existence and qualities of galvanism, be- 
 cause it is a supposable case, that they are but a form 
 of a more general and comprehensive law ? Science 
 goes as far as knowledge conducts ; and following her 
 example, we ascend to an intelHgence capable of pro- 
 ducing the universe ; and there reverently stop, adore, 
 and love. 
 
 In fact, 80 essential and inwrought in the human 
 mind is the idea of an intelligent Deity, that words 
 which implicate it are blended with the very frame-work 
 of all human language ; so that we cannot speak of the 
 universe, but we employ terms which lead the mind to 
 God. The term * effect' brings up its correlative term 
 ' cause ;' and is in itself a concession of the main point 
 in debate. * The works of nature,' ' the laws of nature,' 
 betoken a worker and a lawgiver. And so even Atheists 
 have found it impossible to reason against a God in any 
 language which did not involve the admission of his ex- 
 istence ; thus unintentionally showing that the judgment 
 of the whole of human kind is against their God-denying 
 theory. Nor is Mr.^Owen himself an exception to this 
 general fact. In the work which he designed to be the 
 8tandardJ[exposition of his doctrines, ' The Book of the 
 New Moral World, '* formally dedicated to his late 
 
 • pp. 30, 96, 97. 
 
95 
 
 Majesty, I find him speaking of his ' unknown cause' 
 as having * design' and ' intention,' * unity of design,' 
 as actually ' designing,' * unfolding discoveries,' and 
 being ^justified.' What are all these but qualities of 
 intelligence ? What but so many admissions that his 
 * unknown cause' is known in part ? — or else instances 
 of inconsistency little becoming one who charges all the 
 world and in it, the great lights of humanity, with folly 
 and hypocrisy ? Where the folly lies I will not pre- 
 sume to say; but certainly I can see no proofs of supe- 
 rior wisdom in a theory which admits an intelligent cause 
 of every human effect, but denies the intelligent cause 
 of the universe, the most stupendous effect of all ; which 
 allows that every author has a mind endowed with simi- 
 lar qualities with those of his work, but sees no qualities 
 in creation which indicate the attributes of its maker ; 
 which speaks of a ' design,' but denies a designer, and 
 talks of an ' intention,' and even of a moral ' harmony,' 
 in the very work in which he declares that we can know 
 nothing of his attributes who ' intended ' what he pro- 
 duced, and created the qualities and relations out of 
 which only ' harmony' can ensue. In ordinary minds, 
 the very words 'design,' 'intention,' and 'harmony,' 
 bring up the ideas of kindred qualities in the power to 
 whom they owe their birth ; and so long as man is 
 man — as long, I mean, as he remains constituted as he 
 is — he will never observe an adaptation in his own 
 powers, or in society, without referring it to an ade- 
 quate cause ; and if the qualities belong to the species, 
 he will be infallibly led to the conclusion, that their au- 
 thor is a divine Intelligence ; and that this author, the 
 Sun of the Universe, is infinitely superior to the scat- 
 tered rays of his power, wisdom, and benevolence, which 
 are seen in his works. 
 
 There was once a state of opinion in society which 
 
96 
 
 led to the saying- — ' Athanasius against the world, and 
 the world against Athanasius ; ' and as Mr. Owen has 
 chosen to set himself against the world in relation to its 
 fundamental conviction, he must not be surprised if he 
 find the world against him ; nor is it difficult to predict 
 which will prove the victor in so unequal a contest. 
 
 The fundamental doctrine of the religion of Jesus, that 
 God is, that God is one, that God is a Father, that 
 Mind, Intelligence, is the author of the universe, stands 
 then unshaken by the assaults of Socialism, and is 
 illustrated and confirmed by principles which it either 
 employs, or cannot deny. In fact, the Creator of the 
 universe himself has made most abundant provision for 
 the acknowledgment, on the part of man, of his 
 existence and attributes, in the multiplicity of evidence 
 he has given alike in the fundamental principles of 
 human reasoning, the essential sentiments of the human 
 heart, and in the frame of ' the great globe ' itself, and 
 the minutest of its innumerable inhabitants ; so that if 
 we look throughout the whole structure of nature, 
 whether to the insect whose life is literally but for a day, 
 or to those stupendous orbs which roll in the regions of 
 boundless space, — finding, as we do every where, adap- 
 tations as beautiful as they are wise and beneficent, 
 — finding every where design, order, and harmony, we 
 are irresistibly led not only to acknowledge the existence 
 and operation of an infinite Intelligence, but to feel, in 
 relation to the accunuilated proofs of his Being and 
 Providence, that earth is his footstool, and heaven his 
 throne. 
 
LECTURE V. 
 
 We come, on this occasion, to consider one avowed 
 fundamental doctrine of Socialism, the great discovery 
 which is to revolutionize the world. This discovery we 
 shall find to be of that negative kind which, as I remarked 
 in my last lecture, characterises the whole of this 
 aspiring and boasted philosophy. And to those who 
 know the means by which great social changes have, 
 from time to time, been produced, namely, by the 
 developement of some new truth, by a deeper insight 
 into the active powers of the human breast, and, pre- 
 eminently, by the awakening up of new and powerful 
 sympathies, it cannot but appear singular that any 
 great changes should be expected fi*om a system which, 
 for the most part, confines itself to a denial of established 
 and long-cherished principles. There may, indeed, be 
 occasions when a moral renovation begins by exploding 
 customary errors; but .this oflice of denying and con- 
 futing is merely preparatory: the denial pioneers the 
 way to some great truth, some forgotten principle, some 
 repository of moral power, which in itself contains the 
 vital elements of individual and social reformation. 
 But Socialism does not profess to have this source of 
 power in reserve. Its point of support is in its nega- 
 tions themselves. Its office is the explosion of error, 
 not the discovery of truth. And when we speak of its 
 discoveries, all we can mean is, that it has found out — 
 as it affirms — many errors in commonly-received opinions. 
 It is, doubtless, supposable that mankind may be in 
 darkness on many points of high concern, — but instead 
 of throwing light on existing darkness, Socialism would 
 
98 
 
 only make that darkness more dark. Its requirement 
 is not dissimilar to his who should request the traveller 
 at midnight to close or pluck out one of his eyes, in the 
 assurance that by this means he would be better able to 
 see and pursue his journey. 
 
 The doctrine of the religion of Jesus in regard to the 
 constituent elements of human character, is this — 
 character is created by the joint action of our wills and 
 our circumstances, the power within the breast and the 
 influences without, whereof the internal power is the 
 superior, is the great shaping and directing principle of 
 human destiny. 
 
 Socialism admits the one, and denies the other, of 
 these two great influences. It honors and extols the 
 less, it proscribes the greater. And thus having set 
 aside the predominant efficacy of the human mind, 
 it takes up a subordinate influence, and with it purposes 
 to re-construct and regenerate society. 
 
 I regard this as a just and true statement of the issue 
 which it is endeavouring to force on the attention of 
 mankind. The sole question, when all mere accessaries 
 are laid aside, is simply this — Whetlier the world within, 
 or the world without the breasf, is the predominant 
 moral influence? 
 
 You will thus see at once that I do not deny the 
 influence of circumstances on human character and 
 destiny. I admit this element of our individual and 
 social condition. I admit its existence and operation. 
 I acknowledge its power for good or for ill. Undoubtedly 
 it is mighty ; and I would go with you to any reasonable 
 length in your eflforts to surround each individual with 
 such circumstances as would act most favourably on his 
 capabilities, and conduce most eminently to his happiness. 
 And one reason why I oflfer opposition to your efforts is 
 because I think that the atmosphere of circumstances 
 which you would call into being, wants some of the most 
 
99 
 
 influential — wants indeed the highest of all principles, 
 namely, the recognition and enforcement of the inherent 
 power of mind to shape and control outward events ; and 
 that still more influential and higher principle, the 
 acknowledgment and realisation of man's relations to 
 Deity, which constitute pure and undefiled religion. 
 By your fundamental doctrines, you abridge your power 
 for good, in cutting off and casting away circumstances 
 which, in their very nature, must exert, and obviously 
 even in a corrupt form have exerted, the greatest influ- 
 ence on human character. I affirm that in this particu- 
 lar Socialism is untrue to itself, for it curtails the very 
 power by which it proposes to change the face of the 
 world. 
 
 From my statement, it will also appear, that I do not 
 go at all into the question of philosophical necessity. 
 For the manner in which I shall treat the subject, it 
 matters not whether that doctrine be true or false. It 
 is a popular, not a metaphysical view of character that 
 the place and the occasion ask for ; and such I propose 
 to give. The question in debate essentially is, whether 
 mind or matter is the master power. Decide in 
 favor of matter, or the outward world — then man's 
 character may be formed for him, and not by him; 
 decide in favor of mind, or the internal world — the 
 inner man, then our character is formed at least as 
 much by us, as it is for us. 
 
 Before, however, I proceed to the argument, I am 
 bound to show that I have rightly understood and rightly 
 stated the question which Socialism propounds. 
 
 From the Book of the New Moral World, I learn 
 that Mr. Owen's doctrine is as follows : — 
 
 Man's character is the result of his organisation, and 
 of the circumstances in which he is placed. So far 
 there is nothing new. This is a doctrine which dates as 
 far back as the first efforts to form a philosophy of cha- 
 
100 
 
 ractor. The question, however, comes — Does this or- 
 ganisation comprise not only a power of self-control, 
 but a mastering influence over external circumstances ? 
 Socialism answers in the negative. It uses the follow- 
 ing language : — ' Man's whole character, physical, men- 
 tal, and moral, is formed independently of himself.'* 
 This, it must be confessed, is no very precise language 
 to fall from the lips of one who values so meanly the in- 
 tellect of all other men. ' Man's whole character is 
 formed independently of hujiself,' — then he himself is 
 something different from the whole of his character, for 
 surely that which is independent of something else, is 
 different, not to say distinct and separate from it. Thig 
 dark and illogical statement, however, may receive some 
 illustration from other passages; — accordingly, I read 
 that 'man is altogether a being whose oi^anisation, feel- 
 ings, thoughts, will, and actions, are pre-determined for 
 him by the influence of external circumstances acting 
 upon his original constitution.' t Here, indeed, I might 
 ask how his ' original constitution' is distinct from his 
 ' organisation,' and again object that man cannot differ 
 from his * organisation, feelings, thoughts, will, and 
 actions.' But without occupying time in making fur- 
 ther quotations, it is sufliciently clear that circumstances 
 are affirmed to be the pre-determining influence in hu- 
 man character; that they, acting on his original consti- 
 tution, create man's character. The mind, therefore, is 
 the thing created, circumstances are the creator; — the 
 influence of mind, whatever else it may be, is passive — 
 it is that which is acted on, mastered, and controlled ; 
 the influence of circumstances is active, is that which 
 determines the whole character. This doctrine Social- 
 ism has condensed into an aphorism, and proclaims as 
 its fundamental teaching, that * man's character is 
 
 ♦ Book of the New Moral World, page 4. t Ibid. p«g© 20. 
 
101 
 
 formed for him, and not by hira/ In other words — words 
 of the social prophet himself — * man's will is as much cre- 
 ated for him as any other quality or faculty which has 
 been given to him.'* ' It is evident that the whole cha- 
 racter of man is formed for and not by the individual ;' f 
 *the external;}: circumstances existing around individuals 
 form their local, national, and general characters.' ' The 
 character of man is, without a single exception, always 
 formed for him. Man never did, nor is it possible he 
 ever can, form his own character.' § * Man has been 
 thus placed by the same power which has given a fixed 
 and determinate character to all organised as well as 
 unorganised forms, at the mercy solely of external ob- 
 jects ; his hourly existence, his health, his strength, his 
 thoughts and feelings and conduct, his inferiority or 
 superiority, his misery or happiness, depend altogether 
 upon the action of these objects upon the passive and 
 ductile organs of his nature.' || 
 
 We are now, then, I hope, in no danger of misunder- 
 standing the question before us. I repeat, that when 
 put in the mildest form, it is this — Whether the mind 
 within, or matter without the breast, shapes and controls 
 human destiny, not as an exclusive but a predominating 
 influence ? Is it true that ^ man's character is formed 
 for and not by him ? You will obsei-ve that the apho- 
 rism contains two statements. It is not merely that 
 man's character is formed for him. This might be only 
 a strong and pointed way of asserting the admitted effi- 
 cacy of circumstances. Much more than this — man's 
 character is not formed by him. 
 
 The question, then, is — Which is the superior infiu- 
 
 * Owen's Book of the New Moral World, p. 16. 
 t Ibid, page 25. X Ibid, page 38. 
 
 § Owen's Essays on the Formation of Character, page 36. 
 il Owen's Lectures in Manchester, page 24, 
 
 i2 
 
102 
 
 ence in the fomation of character, the human mind or ex- 
 t ernal circumstances ? To this issue the doctrine of the 
 Socialists comes — by this issue it shall be tried. But as this 
 is my, not their language, I shall also fight the battle on 
 their own ground — that, I mean, of the celebrated social 
 motto, ' Man's character is formed for and not by him.* 
 Let us, however, premise one more consideration. 
 In what light are we to view this doctrine ? It is pro- 
 pounded as * laws and facts * of human nature drawn 
 from observation. It is, then, the social theory of the 
 formation of human character. It is this, and it is no- 
 thing more. Socialists are apt to speak of the doctrine 
 in terms of the utmost assurance, and to represent it as 
 of unquestionable truth. At the present moment I am 
 not asserting that it is false ; but whether true or false, 
 it is merely their interpretation of man's moral history, 
 it is merely the conclusion they draw from the observa- 
 tions they have made. As such, it can have no higher 
 degree of certainty than that which attaches to the ordi- 
 nary Avorkings of the human understanding; and as 
 SociaHsts are wont to represent that understanding to 
 be universally depraved, their doctrines can, at the beat, 
 rest on but an insecure foundation ; except, indeed, they 
 are prepared to revive for themselves the theological 
 claim of infallibility ; — and certainly instances are but too 
 abundant in which they appear to think that all wisdom 
 is their peculiar portion. They, however, as well as other 
 men, must have suffered from the injurious influence 
 which they ascribe to ' the old irrational and immoral 
 world;' and for this reason, if for no other, must be 
 satislied if they are placed no lower than on a par with 
 other thinking men, and have their opinions judged 
 by the ordinary rules of evidence. Now the distinctive 
 feature of this doctrine is, as we have seen, that man's 
 character is not formed by him. This is the allegation 
 of Socialists. Evidence to substantiate their opinion 
 
103 
 
 they do not adduce. They simply affirm a negative pro- 
 position — * Man's character is not formed by him.' The 
 matter in debate, then, might be speedily brought to a 
 termination. One affirmation is as good as another. I 
 assert that man's character is formed by, as well as for 
 him. Their negation is then nullified. A mere affirma- 
 tion renders it void. What are statements worth which 
 are unsupported by evidence ? Mr. Owen^, in failing to 
 sustain his doctrine by evidence, has not entitled it even 
 to an examination. 
 
 But I consent to descend from this high and vantage 
 ground. I will act as if Socialists had, by the force of 
 evidence, created a presumption in their favor. The 
 philosophy of human character which they expound, I 
 will bring to the test of experience and reason. They 
 may be right — they may also have observed imperfectly 
 and incompletely ; and have reasoned rather under the 
 influence of their passions and their wishes, than of a 
 pure and enlightened intellect. What they propound, 
 therefore, we will examine. If their theory is suffi- 
 cient to account for ascertained facts, and for all as- 
 certained facts, it may possibly be true; if it is in- 
 sufficient, it must be false. Such is the method in 
 which scientific theories are examined and judged ; 
 and Socialism cannot, in consequence, appeal against 
 the tribunal. It is not by authority, it is by experience 
 and reason I propose to decide the question. We will 
 read the same book Mr. Owen has read ; if we find no 
 more than he has found, we will acknowledge that so 
 far he may by possibility be in the right ; if we find 
 qualities of the human mind which he disowns, he is 
 unquestionably in the wrong. 
 
 Now this book of the human character has been open 
 and studied for some thousand years. Among its stu- 
 dents have been the first intellects of the race. It has 
 been seen and perused in almost every possible hght. 
 
104 
 
 Minds the most various have devoted their best atten- 
 tion to it; and Mr. Owen allows that the judgment of 
 the world is against him. Which is the more likely to 
 be right in the interpretation — they or he ? Surely it is 
 a strong presumption against any theory of the forma- 
 tion of human character, that it is contradicted by uni- 
 versal opinion. Were it some new study, new light 
 might be expected. Were the question in debate one 
 relating to minuter shades of character, we might con- 
 clude that his predecessors had failed to see what he has 
 seen. Were his a view which they had but dimly per- 
 ceived, we could imagine that increasing experience had 
 brought out facts into bold relief. But the case is this. 
 The world and its philosophers have agreed to assign a 
 controlling power over everj' outward influence to the 
 inborn energies of the human mind. This power Mr. 
 Owen denies ; its admission he regards as a gross mis- 
 take, and its enforcement as a 'deception.'* Well, 
 then, may we ask — Is it likely that one man, or the 
 species, on so broad a fact, and in so broad an issue, 
 should labor under error ? 
 
 It is not authority I now plead, but conviction, arising 
 from enquiry, and based on evidence, and tlie decision 
 amounts almost to infinity against unity. 
 
 But not merely does the world decide in opposition 
 to Mr. Owen, that the mind possesses an independent 
 power of control, but, as by universal consent, and 
 emphatically by the master intellects who have enligh- 
 tened and adorned it, that this innate power of mind 
 is eminently and incomparably superior to every other 
 earthly influence. Go to the writings of these lights of 
 humanity, and you will find that no language is too 
 strong for them to employ in depicting the triumphs of 
 mind over matter, or in estimating the latent capa- 
 bilities the mind possesses, or in describing tho yet 
 
 * Book of the New Moral World, pa^ 20. 
 
105 
 
 more brilliant displays which they anticipate and pre- 
 dict. I grant, they may be mistaken ; I claim for them 
 no exemption from the possibility of error ; — but I can- 
 not think that possibility lessened when I pass from them 
 to the single, not to say singular intellect of the social 
 theorist. 
 
 But if circumstances have the exclusive and oppres- 
 sive power which Socialism ascribes to them, what 
 account can we give of the rise and progress of human 
 civilization ? At some time and in some place, there 
 must have been a first human pair. Cast out by * the 
 unknown power,' which produces all the organizations 
 of the world, they exist in the helplessness natural to 
 the human infant, are exposed to the fury of the ele- 
 ments in a country yet unsubdued by man, and to the 
 unmitigated ferocity of beasts of prey. What is to 
 prevent their destruction ? Circumstances are all ad verso. 
 Their own faculties are but in embryo. They have not 
 even the power of locomotion. They lie on the earth from 
 whose dreary womb they had just come, puling and help- 
 less, with no possible resources in themselves, and nothing 
 but enemies on every side around them. Such are their 
 * circumstances ;' how they extricated themselves, how 
 they rose to maturity, how they got a footing in the 
 world, I leave Socialism to explain. 
 
 Let us, however, suppose — for on such a question we 
 can afford to be liberal — that for once, by some strange 
 chance, the * unknown' and unintelligent power of the 
 universe formed a full-grown pair of human beings ; 
 and let us also allow that it w^as possible for them to 
 preserve their lives alike against the inclemency of 
 heaven and earth, and the fierce passions of animals, 
 more strong and as wily as they. There they are with 
 the sole fruits of the earth, or the inferior animals for 
 their sustenance. Again, every external influence is 
 more or less adverse to them. Yet they survive, improve 
 
106 
 
 their condition, transmit their species, invent arts, gain 
 some first notions of science, found cities, build up 
 empires, and surround themselves with varied means of 
 gatification. What is this but the history of the pre- 
 dominance of mind ? They subdue the world around 
 them, and are not subdued by it. In other words, they 
 control the outward, overpower and fashion — to some 
 extent, according to their own will — the * circumstances' 
 in which they find themselves. In fact, they create, in 
 a \ery considerable degree, the ' circumstances' which 
 are to influence themselves and their successors. And 
 yet, we are told that man's character is formed for and 
 not by him. Who then, or what, formed the character 
 of this first pair ? They did not form it themselves — 
 and ' circumstances' would have crushed them. Yet 
 they live, have a character, and hand down thoir con- 
 quests to their descendants ; — an obvious impossibility 
 on any other assumption than that they had within 
 themselves a power vastly superior to every external 
 force. In fact, they and theirs found the world a 
 howling wilderness — they made it into a garden ; they 
 found ' circumstances' against them — they brought 
 * circumstances' into some considerable agreement with 
 their wills. 
 
 It is, indeed, of little consequence what you suppose 
 the first condition of their * circumstances' to be, whe- 
 ther more or less adverse. As soon as external nature 
 made an impression on their minds, it roused them to 
 action in order to enjoy, preserve, and multiply thr 
 good, if good were offered, and to overcome and turn t*' 
 their own advantage the evil which infallibly must, to 
 no small extent, have been their lot. But whatever the 
 nature of the outward action, it did no more than call 
 forth that power of the mind which enablnl man to 
 make the best of his then actual condition. The out- 
 ward was but the stimulus. It had not even an ioflu- 
 
107 
 
 ence till the action of the mind commenced ; and the 
 moment its operation begins, * circumstances ' bend to 
 its control, and soon take the shape which the mind de- 
 sires. That 'circumstances' would modify both that 
 desire and the condition which resulted, I do not deny. 
 The power of circumstances is admitted ; but in the pro- 
 cess to which I have alluded, it is, beyond a question, 
 the mind and not matter which is the governing prin- 
 ciple. 
 
 Then look at the spread and decay of civilization. 
 Spots on the earth appear in human history now covered 
 with the glory of the arts and sciences, and now left a 
 prey to the abomination of desolation. Why is this ? 
 This glory, is it not the creation of the human mind — 
 an emblem of its triumph over ' circumstances V This 
 desolation — Was it not caused by the failure of mental 
 power, and the predominance of adverse external 
 influences? A few leagues off, civihzation takes up 
 its abode and spreads blessings around it. Why ? 
 Some eminent mind has been born, and put forth its 
 innate power. ' Circumstances,' therefore, yield before 
 it, assume the shapes it wishes, and mould themselves, 
 under its plastic hand, into more or less of grandeur 
 and permanency. These institutions come under the 
 influence of a tyrant, a conqueror, or a fool; and 
 crumble away beneath the dissolving power of * cir- 
 cumstances.' Again, on the same spot, civilization 
 may revive, again decay, according as mind exerts or 
 remits its control, and as the worse or the better qualities 
 of character make themselves felt. Palestine, a country 
 in no way distinguished for natural fertility, was once 
 a land flowing with milk and honey. Why ? Mind 
 brought its creative power to bear upon its soil. It 
 is now, with partial exceptions, a waste of hills with- 
 out flocks, and plains without verdure. Why? Mind 
 has left it to the devastating sway of * circumstances.' 
 
108 
 
 Sparta rises out of surrounding barrenness and social 
 disorders, to a state of civilized renown, which remains 
 permanent for centuries. A great mind has appeared 
 and shaped * circumstances' to his will. Athens, too, 
 seats herself in the midst of a sterile land, and from the 
 confines of a petty tract of country, gives law to many 
 nations, and makes her benign influence felt, even for 
 ages after she herself has sunk into decay. The reason 
 is — she had her Solon, her Pericles, her iEschylus, her 
 Socrates, her Plato, and her Demosthenes : men who 
 rose superior, by the imperial power of intellect, to all 
 the 'circumstances' by which they were surrounded, 
 and continue to the present hour to give power to other 
 minds to control and shape outward influences. Look 
 at Caesar, — what a change did his mind bring over the 
 whole aspect'of the world. Bonaparte, in modern times, 
 broke and upturned nearly all the forms of existing 
 civilization. Where, but in the predominating powerof 
 mind, will you find an adequate cause for these wide- 
 spread results ? Let the influence of ' circumstances' be 
 estimated at their highest, what but his power of intellect 
 and his indomitable will, made the poor lieutenant of 
 artillery, in preference to every other military adven- 
 turer, into the Emperor of France and the temporary 
 dictator of the continent ? You tell me you admit the 
 influence of his organisation ; then, if you mean any 
 thing, you admit the supreme efficiency of his mind, and 
 cannot in the same breath assert that his character was 
 formed for and not by him. The character of Bona- 
 parte formed^or him ! ' Circumstances' his creator ! — 
 his, with whom nearly all the outward was in direct 
 opposition to his progress, and who, more than myriads 
 of other men, men in more ' favourable circumstances,' 
 created a new order of social condition and social influ- 
 ences. And so, what raised Burns from tho plough to 
 a niche in the temple of his country's purest fame ? 
 
109 
 
 What took Arkwright from his barber's shop, and made 
 him the creator of exhaustless mines of wealth ? What 
 enabled Watt, and others of the same stamp, to bring 
 into existence a power which is doing a far higher work 
 than multiplying works of human skill and convenience, 
 in he facilities \yhich it affords, with daily-increasing 
 efficiency, for intercourse among men and nations, and 
 thus for the furtherance of all the mental and moral good 
 which is the best heritage, as it is the great civilizer, of 
 humanity ? In each of these cases, it was the predo- 
 minance of mind over matter, of man's intellectual 
 energies, of man's will over the adverse tendency of 
 ' circumstances.' And what, now, does Socialism aim 
 to effect, but to bring about a ' New Moral World,' by 
 an appeal to the supreme director of human affairs, — 
 the human mind ? Yes ; should its visions ever be 
 realised, they will prove that ' circumstances' are as 
 nothing, when the mind of man is brought in energetic* 
 array against their dominion. The powers that be are 
 all to lay aside their cherished greatness of their own 
 accord, persuaded and controlled by the offer of a better 
 lot. Will not this be a triumph of mind ? Mr. Owen's 
 intellect will have transfused itself into the intellect of 
 the world, and, as a consequence, dissolved its existing 
 institutions^ and created all things anew. And thus the 
 success of Socialism would prove the confutation of its 
 fundamental principle. In fact, if ' circumstances' are 
 so overpowering as Socialism would have us believe, 
 it would be idle to attempt to unbind the chains in which 
 the world is held a willing captive. Nor, apart from 
 the admission of the predominance of his own intellect 
 and the force of his own will, can I perceive how 
 socialists can give any satisfactory account of the for- 
 mation of the character, plans, and efforts of their master, 
 whom they represent as pursuing hi? purpose in the 
 
110 
 
 very teeth of ' circumstances, ' through good report and 
 through ill report, through fair and foul opposition, 
 through one long-continued series of personal and social 
 sacrifices. 
 
 I am not unaware, that every superior mind takes an 
 influence from the circumstances in which he is placed. 
 if you descend to minuteness, it is not always easy to 
 settle the exact proportions between what a superior 
 mind receives and what he gives. But in broad and 
 general measures, there is no difficulty in saying of 
 many great men, that they were rather the creators 
 than the creatures of circumstances ; nor do I know 
 how any man who possesses a tolerable acquaintance with 
 history, can fail to point out individuals who have made 
 revolutions, instead of being made by them, and thus 
 proved themselves superior to the aggregate of social 
 influences in the midst of which they appeared. 
 
 Let us, fora moment, confineour thoughts to the pn^scnt 
 day. The human mind now is surrounded by outward 
 influences. What has brought tlicm into being ? Say 
 
 * the character of man is fonned for and not by him,' 
 and what rational account can you give ? These influen- 
 ces are compounded of mental and physical elements. 
 Whence the mental — if it is true as a universal propo- 
 sition — that 'man's character is not formed by him*? 
 Surely a part of these influences, as being mental, have 
 sprung from the human mind. Else, whence arc they ' 
 The outward world could not have given them birth, for 
 to that world they belong not. Let, then, our actual 
 
 * circumstances ' be ever so overpowering, yet up to this 
 time at leasts man has done something towards the 
 formation of his own character. In fact, it has created 
 what Socialism would designate its creators. In bye- 
 gone ages the mind has given rise to the 'circumstances' 
 which shape this age, and are destined to shape the ages 
 
ill 
 
 to come. And thus it is the mind of man which forges 
 the chains in which to bind posterity. But who can 
 believe that, having exerted a creative power up to now, 
 the mind has at length resigned its office, is paralysed, 
 and will, in future, quietly yield to the dominion of 
 existing things ? It is, on the contrary, my firm belief, 
 that its efficiency has, from the first till the present 
 hour, been gradually but steadily on the increase ; and 
 except I have misinterpreted the signs of the times, it 
 is even now preparing to put forth new displays of its 
 inherent power, to vindicate its supremacy, and to sub- 
 due, control, and make anew the combined influence of 
 ' the circumstances ' which surround us. 
 
 I will now ask you to descend with me into the retire- 
 ment of private life, in order to see if the social theory 
 of the formation of character is sufficient to explain ac- 
 knowledged facts. You have been more or less inti- 
 mately concerned with the education of children. Is it 
 not your experience that their characters are as much 
 formed by them as for them ? In most families the train 
 of circumstances through which children are conducted 
 are not greatly dissimilar ; yet how unlike are the re- 
 sults ! Whence could this be, if the outward were the 
 supreme influence ? In such a case, it would, of course, 
 level all inferior influences, and create a uniformity. It 
 is no answer to say that you admit a diversity of original 
 organization. I speak not o'f the existence of such a 
 diversity, but of its power. That diversity, in the main, 
 concentrates itself in what men have agreed to call 
 mind ; and it is, beyond a doubt, the formative prin- 
 ciple in the production of character. The original en- 
 dowments it is which give the bent to the mind, deter- 
 mine the train of influences to which it will submit, 
 modify external circumstances, and, in a word, impart 
 to the character its shape and complexion. Every per- 
 
J12 
 
 son has more or less of what may be termed individual 
 force of character ; a force which shows itself in the 
 earliest period of childhood, and gathers strength up to 
 maturity, not to say till the decline of life. And it is this 
 original and unconquerable bent and impulse which de- 
 termines the walk in life of each individual, and the na- 
 ture and extent of influence which he is destined to ex- 
 ert. And where the force is found in any distinguished 
 degree, all merely external influences are powerless to 
 restrain and subdue it. Let the force be in favor of the 
 exercises of the imagination, in how many instances 
 does the biography of eminent literary men show us that 
 it will break down all outward barriers. In vain a pa- 
 rent urges, entreats, and threatens ; in vain sordid inte- 
 rest offers her golden visions ; in vain poverty sets in 
 hostile array the ills which wait on her victims ; vain 
 arc legal bonds, — every consideration is broken through, 
 nature is too strong for ' circumstances,' and poetry 
 vindicates her rights. If the force is found in the ani- 
 mal propensities, and th:U force is of a predominating 
 nature, neither the example of a Howard, nor the train- 
 ing of an Owen, can make the individual into a philan- 
 thropist. It is an idle dream that the slaughterers could 
 ever have been the benefactors of humanity. It is 
 equally idle to imagine that any outward influence could 
 have made a Socrates and a Robespierre exchange cha- 
 racters. And how great soever the change of character 
 which the former wrought in himself, the change was 
 the work, not of circumstances, but of his own mind. 
 It is, in fact, the mind, its peculiar turn — its tone, a 
 tone which admits of endless variations, — it is this which 
 shapes our course, modities our education, as well as is 
 modified by it, and gives rise to the innumerable diver- 
 sities of the human species which we see around us. 
 And, indeed, tliese diversities themselves are a sufficient 
 
113 
 
 proof tliat circumstances are but of secondary power in 
 the formation of character. Take any one class in so - 
 ciety — the circumstances which affect that class are in 
 the main nearly alike for each individual. Yet, in the 
 same class, no two persons will you find bearing a 
 marked resemblance. Each one's character is as dissi- 
 milar, to say the least, as dissimilar to that of his near- 
 est likeness, as are their countenances or the tones of 
 their voice. How could this be but for the overpowering 
 influence of their mental diversities? 
 
 To revert to the family circle ; — take any three chil^ 
 dren, surround them with the same influences, let those 
 influences commence with a very early period of their 
 being, what will be the result ? Parents, what in your 
 own houses has been the result? Identity? Similarity? 
 Diversity? The three streams come from the same 
 fountain-head, flow over a similar soil, yet their hue is 
 diverse. And what has been the coloring principle ? 
 What modified the very first influence made on one of 
 their minds ? What made that first impression different 
 from the impression produced at the same time on the 
 mind of its associate ? The complexion, the peculiar 
 hue of the child's original endowments. And so omvard 
 till life shall end, this same spring, this elastic power 
 will exert its force. As it is, so in the main the charac- 
 ter will be ; and that in all the diversity of shades and 
 hues of which the human character is susceptible. These 
 things an observant parent well knows, and he knows 
 also that whatever ' power of circumstances ' he might 
 bring to bear, he could not in this case make a child a 
 distinguished mechanist, nor in that make a child an 
 eminent musician, nor in another make a child a supe- 
 rior poet ; equally does he see cases where the bent of 
 the mind is so strong and elastic, that nothing, no 
 * circumstances' whatever, could prev<ent a child from 
 
 K 2 
 
114 
 
 pursuing a literary course, or taking to a sea-faring- 
 life. These are cases which are constantly occurring 
 in families, and the philosophy of * circumstances' has no 
 explanation to offer of them. They are obviously cases 
 of the predominance of mind, and of character formed 
 rather by, than for the individuals in question. 
 
 The peculiar disposition, in some cases, remains latent 
 for years, and, if you look on such children, you may 
 imagine that the education of mere 'circumstances' 
 is going quietly on. I have seen what I refer to. All 
 at once, however, a change comes. * Circumstances ' 
 remain substantially the same ; the same comfort, the 
 same kindness, the same intellectual advantages — but 
 the youth turns refractory, self-willed ; he has his 
 notions, and does his utmost to give them effect ; pater- 
 nal admonition and a mother's love interpose their influ- 
 ence ; the opposition is softened, perhaps disappears for 
 a brief period, but returns again with more force than 
 ever ; — now it gains the upper hand in the individual 
 himself, perhaps in the family ; certainly it modifies the 
 ordinary ' circumstances' and tone of the family circle, 
 and henceforth it becomes the guiding power of the life 
 of the youth ; it may be, the determining power for good 
 or for ill of the whole household. To what are we to 
 ascribe this and similar changes — changes in the intel- 
 lectual as well as moral capacities — changes which 
 change the whole sphere in which tliey operate, — to 
 what but to the predominance of the internal power of 
 the human being ? I appeal also to your own individual 
 feelings. System, 1 know, may do much to becloud the 
 plainest lessons of the mind, and to suppress tlie strong 
 instincts of tlie heart. Yet, in all cases, nature is too 
 powerful for art ; and I believe there are very few per- 
 sons who could not, by a little close inspection, find 
 enougli in their own experience to settle the ({uestion 
 
115 
 
 now in dispute. What, then, says the Yoice of con- 
 sciousness? Does it declare that your character is 
 formed * for and not by you ' — that you have nothing 
 like an independent power of control over external things 
 and internal emotions ? You yield to passion, to tem- 
 per ; you suppress their workings ; you yield in part, 
 another time you suppress them in part, through all the 
 varied moods of your mind ; — you feel you have a power 
 of election and control, a spontaneous self-acting power. 
 I am not intimating that outward things and your bodily 
 sensations have no influence over the exertion of that 
 power ; I merely affirm its existence. With some, in- 
 deed, owing to the want of mental discipline, the life 
 may be scarcely more than in the germ ; in others it has 
 the strength of the full-grown oak. But in either case 
 there it is, more difficult, I know, to be recognized in the 
 one instance than the other ; and on this account I 
 think it is that Socialism, finding as yet its adherents 
 among those whose higher faculties have been but im- 
 perfectly called forth, has been enabled to persuade some 
 that their sole capacity is receptive ; in other words, 
 that their ^ character is formed for and not by them.' 
 It is, however, a very easy question that I ask you to 
 carry to the bar of your own experience ; namely — Can 
 you control ' circumstances,' or can you not ? Have 
 you ever controlled them ? Have you ever had to set 
 yourself in array against outward influences — and did 
 you in any case gain ought of success ? Or can you 
 control your own feehngs, or can you not ? Have you 
 ever made the trial ? Did you utterly fail ? If not, 
 then you are conscious of possessing a controlling power 
 in your own minds, — then mind is superior to * circum- 
 stances,' — then the one is active, the other passive ; the 
 one superior, the other inferior; and you do something 
 to form your own character. And notice, it matters 
 
il6 
 
 not how small that something is ; small as it may be, it 
 is enough to put a negative on the proposition which 
 asserts that * man's character is formed for and not by 
 him/ 
 
 Mr. Owen has looked, we may suppose, into his own 
 mind, and being fully possessed with the one idea of his 
 system, saw nothing correspondent with the modifying 
 and controlling power of which I have spoken. Accord- 
 ingly he illustrates his philosophy of character in the 
 following words: — * The effects of the action of external 
 circumstances upon the original constitution may be thus 
 described. Suppose the organization at birth to be 
 represented by A ; and the first circumstance acting 
 upon it be represented by B. A and B unite, and make 
 a compound, represented, we will suppose, by C; the 
 second circumstance which influences the organization 
 shall be D, which then unites with the last compound 
 C, making a new compound of character which we will 
 call E: — and in this manner the character of each 
 individual undergoes a continual change.'* And this 
 instruction is given in connection with a philosophy 
 whose fundamental teaching is that * man's character is 
 formed for and not by him ' ! Why ; of what does the 
 last compound E consist, but of the joint influences 
 of the mind within and the world without ? In fact, by 
 his own showing, the mind does its part to form the 
 'circumstances' which modify it, and this through the 
 whole of life. In other w^ords, the mind enters as an 
 essential clement, as an original creative element in the 
 formation of our characters. Surely, then, it is idle to 
 aflirm that those characters * are formed for and not by 
 us.' If any one faculty more than another may bo 
 dignified by the tenn 'us/ may be identified with 
 
 * Book of the New Moral World, page 6. 
 
117 
 
 ourselves, it is the compound of internal qualities called 
 the mind; and these, by the inadvertent admission of the 
 great heresiarch himself, have an equal share in the 
 formation of our characters. They then are formed, at 
 least, as much by us as they are for us. 
 
 Mr. Owen also lays it down as a truth, that different 
 organizations produce different results of character ; 
 nay, that it is they which form through life the distinc- 
 tive character of each person.* Then let Socialism be 
 consistent, and change its motto. If the organization of 
 each individual, the organization in which mind surely 
 is no mean element, gives his life its color, how can 
 the omnipotence of * circumstances' be maintained ? 
 how can it be affirmed, that our characters are formed 
 for and not by us? Our organization, it will not be 
 denied, is a part of us. It is admitted to be that part 
 which chiefly makes us what we are. Consequently, 
 we ourselves are chiefly concerned in the formation of 
 our characters, our happiness, or our misery. It is not 
 true, therefore, it cannot be true, that ' our characters 
 are formed for and not by us.' Nothing but an abuse 
 of language can give the slightest show of truth to this 
 false and obtruded maxim. Place our * organization 
 among circumstances,' then you may raise a cloud of 
 metaphysical dust, wherewith to blind the eye, but 
 without thus confounding w^ords which ordinarily repre- 
 sent things the most distinct, you have not the slightest 
 chance of pejsuading men that their characters * are 
 formed for and not by them.' 
 
 But in what Mr. Owen himself designates his ^chemi- 
 cal action' of the influence of external circumstances 
 upon the organization,-]- — in his A. B. C. philosophy of 
 character, he forgets one important consideration, I 
 
 * Book of the New Moral World, page 38. t Ibid, page 6. 
 
118 
 
 mean, that in every successive state in which it is, the 
 mind is essentially and constantly active. When, there- 
 fore, it has come into the condition which he denomi- 
 nates E, or any other, it is at once at work ; modifying, 
 by means of its own inherent qualities, the impressions 
 it has received, and with the combined power which it thus 
 gains, modifying also incessantly the passive influences of 
 the outward world. It thus is perpetually occupied in 
 gathering up strength, and gently, but effectually, goes 
 forward to that ascendancy over ' circumstances' which 
 is its peculiar birthright. In fact, as I have already 
 intimated, ' circumstances' are not influences, till they 
 are received and felt by the mind, and then they rise or 
 sink in importance, and take that bent and color which 
 the mind is fitted to give them. They influence it, I 
 admit, again and again — but in the main, they arc 
 mastered and controlled. In fact, to erajdoy an illustra- 
 tion, circumstances are not the parent river, but a 
 tributary stream. 
 
 Finally, let us try the great social discovery, the 
 grand revolutionary maxim, by an application of it to a 
 few cases, where we are in no danger of misunderstand- 
 ing ourselves or others. What, then, are those things 
 of which it may be truly aflirined ? Our garments arc 
 made ' for and not by us.' Our houses are made * for 
 and not by us.* Is their condition the same as that 
 of our characters ? Who does not feel the incongruity of 
 asserting the same thing of liis character as of his cloth- 
 ing? Again ; — of the animal creation, it may, in a quali- 
 fied sense, be said, their condition is ' formed for them and 
 not by them.' Is there, then, no dift'erence between the 
 process by which the condition of the animal and that 
 by which the character of man is produced ? Yet their 
 condition partakes of the compound influence of organi- 
 zation and circumstances. We are, then, to bcliovc that 
 
119 
 
 the process is identically the same. Does such a con- 
 clusion, however, agree with your experience — your 
 observation — your convictions ? If not, where is the 
 essential difference ? What distinguishes the one pro- 
 cess from the other ? What new element intervenes 
 between the formation of a coat and the formation of 
 character — between the production of a well-fed bullock 
 and the creation of a wise and benevolent man ? It is 
 reason — an active principle, a self-acting and spontaneous 
 power, a power of self-government, a power of control 
 over outward influences, a power capable of comparing 
 ideas, adjudicating betwixt rival influences, of forming 
 judgments respecting moral and physical qualities — of 
 approving, condemning, electing, and casting away. 
 And of a being possessed of such a power, can it with 
 any propriety be said that his character or his destiny is 
 formed ' for and not by him V Change the ordinary 
 meaning of the words you employ to embody the essence 
 of your doctrine, you may be right — retain them, speak 
 so as not to mislead, so as to be understood, so as to 
 meet the customary apprehensions of men, — you must 
 be wrong, you are condemned at the bar of public opi- 
 nion. 
 
 And did I not know how much the baneful influence 
 of false ideas is frequently counteracted by the better 
 feelings of our nature, by those instincts and impulses 
 which men may becloud but cannot destroy, I should 
 entertain a very lively fear that a doctrine which 
 assimilates the formation of character to a * chemical 
 action,' and reduces it to a level with the process 
 pursued in preparing flocks and herds for the shambles, 
 would end in lowering its adherents to the grossness of 
 a mere animal and physical condition. Certainly so far 
 as the influence of this degrading aphorism extends, it 
 can of itself produce no distinguished excellence, and 
 
120 
 
 for myself I see not how you could well persuade men 
 of a more injurious doctrine than that which, by aflSrraing 
 that their ' characters are formed for and not by them/ 
 teaches that in ourselves we have no power of self-control 
 — no power of control over the external world — but, like 
 moats in the sunbeam, are borne hither and thither — of 
 a necessity, an irresistible necessity borne hither and 
 thither, by every gust within our bosoms, and every 
 gust without. 
 
 To complete the demoralizing tendency of this doctrine, 
 there needed but the addition, that man is irresponsible 
 for his actions, and perishes in the hour that he draws 
 his last earthly breath. 
 
LECTURE VL 
 
 Were there any room for doubt whether Socialism, as 
 professed by Mr. Owen and his followers, goes to the 
 enormous lengths which my last Lecture implies, all he- 
 sitation would be at once removed by the fact, that an- 
 other of its avowed fundamental teachings is the unqua- 
 lified denial of all responsibility on the part of man. This 
 denial is set forth as a necessary consequence of the 
 maxim, that ' Man's character is formed for and not by 
 him.' The lanffuag-e of the sect is in brief as follows : — 
 
 * Every part of the character of man is formed for him 
 by circumstances pre-existing to the will, which decides 
 his actions; and he is therefore irresponsible for the 
 character formed for him, whatever it maybe.'* ' Man 
 is not to be made a being of superior order by teaching 
 him that he is responsible for his will and his actions. 
 This is putting the most formidable obstacle in the way 
 of attaining the most valuable knowledge that man can 
 acquire ; it is the direct method to prevent him from 
 knowing himself; and it teaches him to believe himself 
 ac other kind of being from that which he really is ; and, 
 in consequence, to err in all his thoughts and actions 
 respecting his own nature and human nature generally. 'f 
 
 * That greatest of all errors, that individuals form their 
 own character ; this hydra of human calamity ; this 
 immolator of every principle of rationality ; this monster, 
 which hitherto has effectually guarded every avenue that 
 can lead to true benevolence and active kindness.' | * As 
 
 * Book of the New Moral World, page 20. t Ibid, pe^e 20. 
 
 + Owen's Formation of Character, page 54. 
 L 
 
122 
 
 I write, my blood is chilled at the horrid effects arising: 
 from the principle of human responsibility.'* ' Man is 
 made by a being- unknown to himself, and without his 
 consent; and therefore cannot, with anv degree of jus- 
 tice or of common sense, be made accountable for the 
 qualities of his nature, or for what he himself has been 
 made to be ; — to make him accountable for them, must 
 engender all the bad passions, keep men ignorant, pro- 
 duce poverty, crime, disease, and misery continually, 
 and make man an inconsistent and irrational being.' f 
 
 These statements are beyond a question sutficientlv 
 explicit. We cannot mistake their meaning; as little 
 can we exaggerate their tenor. Man is produced by a 
 power unknown to him, and without his consent ; and 
 is, in consequence, irresponsible. He is entirely the 
 creature of circumstances ; and is, in consequence, irre- 
 sponsible. 
 
 Here we see that Atheism is an essential part of the 
 Social system. The power that produced man is un- 
 known to him ; and, consequently, he is irresponsible. 
 The constructor of Socialism felt, that if ho admitted 
 an intelligent First Cause, he could not, with any show 
 of truth, put a negative on the responsibility of the being 
 whom, in creatinijc him, God made in his own likeness, 
 and tlicreby endowed with a power of self-control ; and 
 with this feeling, in order to do away with man's re- 
 sponsibility, he first disowned a primary Intelligence. 
 
 I also remark, in passing into the subject, that we 
 have in these statements another instance of that absence 
 of evidence to which I had occasion to allude in the pre- 
 ceding lecture. The only show of argument we find is 
 in the attempt which is made to connect together the 
 several propositions which combine to make up the So- 
 cialist theory. This apart, the rest of the assertions are 
 
 * CUrkc, page B. i Uoi.k of tlic Now Monvl WoiLI. i«*<:o .".1. 
 
123 
 
 mere assertions ; they are the unsupported declarations 
 of the master; they are this and nothing more, though an- 
 nounced under the imposing title of ' Facts' and ' Laws.' 
 And I cannot but subjoin that we may add this proof to 
 the many already in being, of the credulity of unbelief. 
 The master affirms; the scholars yield implicit credence ; 
 and at the very time that they assail established opi- 
 nions, and charge all other men with being easy and 
 superstitious in their faith, they themselves receive opi- 
 nions on authority and without evidence, and are loud 
 and fierce in the maintenance of their adopted notions, 
 far more than would be proper even if they had been 
 estabhshed beyond the possibility of a question. 
 
 I stand here this evening to assert the all but univer- 
 sally-received doctrine of moral responsibility; a doc- 
 trine which, if any doctrine does, finds support in the 
 entire texture of the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 It is man's moral responsibility which I assert ; — it is 
 man's moral responsibility which is asserted in the Chris- 
 tian Scriptures. Responsibility for abstract opinions is 
 taught neither by Jesus nor the laws of the human mind. 
 So far as opinion is separated from moral influences, 
 man is not answerable, inasmuch as it is the inevitable 
 result of evidence acting on his mental constitution. 
 Conviction is not subject to the will, ' neither, indeed, 
 can be.' But over our moral condition, and over the 
 actions which ensue, we have a power of control; and to 
 the extent to which that power of control goes, and 
 no further, we may justifiably be held responsible for our 
 feelings and our conduct. Within the range in which 
 we have in each case a spontaneous power of control 
 and of action, we are, and we ought to be, responsible. 
 * The powers which be in' our breast are of God ; and 
 so far as he has made them, whether originally or in the 
 actual circumstances of each individual, capable of self- 
 direction, so far are we answerable to him for the condi- 
 
124 
 
 lion into which we bring them, and the uses to which 
 we apply them. 
 
 This is the position which I lay down in opposition to 
 the doctrine I oppose ; and with this position you will 
 see that I make no claim for responsibility in regard to 
 opinions, any farther than they result from our moral 
 state ; nor for responsibility in regard to our moral 
 state, any further than as it is of our own formation. 
 Here, then, is full latitude for all the allowance which 
 circumstances that we did not individually originate, and 
 could not control, may justifiably require; an allowance 
 which, though in strictness man is unable to estimate in 
 the caseof his fellow-man, the unerring Judge of heaven 
 and earth has doubtless both the ability and the will to 
 determine and make, with the nicest regard to the pecu- 
 liarities of our individual condition. 
 
 By this position, I also at once relieve the doctrine of 
 moral responsibility from the Socialist objection, that 
 man was formed without his consent by an unknown 
 power. However this may be, he finds himself possessed 
 of certain capacities, and under the dominion of certain 
 laws, by his regard to which his character and his hap- 
 piness are created. As a fact, then, his destiny, within 
 the limitations I have made, are in his own hands, and 
 all the reasonin|;-8 in the world cannot prevent him from 
 ' eating of the fruit of his doings.' The laws of his be- 
 ing he knows, or may know, if he does not know their 
 author; — the consequences of his emotions and actions 
 he must feci and undergo, though he was no party to the 
 elements out of which they originate. It is a fact which 
 no denial can supersede, that he is responsible, inas- 
 much as his happiness and misery depend on his use of 
 his powers and opportunities. Responsibility is wrought 
 into his frame by the power which made him. This is 
 the main view which I shall illustrate and enforce ; and 
 in this view lies the very essence of moral responsibility, 
 under whatever aspects it may be sot forth. 
 
125 
 
 Some people seem to liave no idea of responsibility 
 except as exhibited in certain outward forms. A judge, 
 a judgment-seat, the formalities of a trial, which are 
 mere accidents in the case, they identify with respon- 
 sibility itself. Responsibility consists not in these 
 external and dramatic representations, but in the liability 
 under which we are to take the consequences of our 
 own actions. And the justification of it is found in the 
 fact, that we have a power within us of self-control, so 
 far as we are responsible. Were I, indeed, arguing 
 with a Christian, I should maintain that man was re- 
 sponsible, because the will of the Deity had made him 
 so, with a view to the furtherance of his greatest possi- 
 ble hajjpiness ; and in such a case, I might justifiably 
 ask, if the Creator had no right over the creature of 
 his own hands, especially when his aim, in regard to 
 his child, was to shield him from harm, and lead him on 
 to the highest good of which his nature was susceptible? 
 But I will even ask the socialist what he can gain by plead- 
 ing that he knows not the pow-er which made him, and 
 that he was brought into being without his own consent. 
 Will that plea annihilate the laws under which he exists 
 — will it nullify the fact, that as is the condition of his 
 heart and the tenor of his life, so also is his experience 
 of good or of ill ? But look at the plea itself. If it is 
 true of man, it is universally true. If it avails to set 
 man free from responsibility, it avails to divest man of 
 all right of control over inferior creatures. Why, then, 
 is the beast of draught or of burden required to use for 
 man's benefit the powers with whose origination it had 
 no part ? More of a machine no animal can be than 
 Socialism makes man. In fact, the human and the brute 
 animal are, in the main, placed on a level by it, for the 
 character of both are ' formed for and not by them.' 
 What right, then, can Socialism have to require and 
 exact the services of the lower animals ? Is it the right 
 
126 
 
 of the strongest ? If yau make them amenable to that 
 right, how can you justifiably refuse to be liable to 
 the same measures? If you repudiate that right in 
 relation to your own being, you cannot consistently 
 enforce its application on your fellow animal. Inherent 
 rights you cannot plead, for you have no independent 
 power within your breast; you are but as are the brutes, 
 ' the creature of circumstances.' In fact, I know not 
 on what ground you can plead against the unknown 
 power which made you. That power is deaf to your 
 voice, for in your creed it is unintelligent. You are in 
 the hands of an irresistible destiny, and can but submit. 
 * Non-resistance and passive obedience' are requirements 
 which your own doctrines impose upon you, for ' the 
 unknown power' is too strong for your reclamation; and 
 the very right of appeal you have forfeited, by declaring 
 that you are, and must be, what circumstances make you, 
 and as such, possess no inalienable rights of mental 
 independence. As well may the ox rebel against the 
 blow which takes away his life, as * the mere creature 
 of circumstances,' the plaything of resistless destiny, 
 cry out against his lot. You have tied up your own 
 hands: you have silenced your own tongue: you have 
 set aside a throne of grace, wlien you have asserted 
 that you have no power but that which ' the unknown 
 cause' of the universe has 'compelled' you * to receive;** 
 you have bound yourselves in the chains of fate, you 
 have asserted that you are powerless captives, and have 
 thereby surrendered all the rights of intelligence. 
 
 From the position which I have taken up it will 
 moreover be seen, that in asserting moral responsibility 
 1 do not assert a system of nieie penal retribution. 
 Socialists appear to have identified responsibility with 
 the law which Jesus exploded, of ' an eye for an eye, 
 
 * Book of \hf NcxT Moml World. 
 
127 
 
 and a tooth for a tooth.'* Were this the teaching of 
 Christianity, I should have no defence to offer on its 
 behalf. I hold that the infliction of evil in return for 
 evil, of pain as a mere penalty of transgression, is but 
 to double the wrong. Such may have been the effect, 
 in some instances even the design, of human laws, — 
 but all the measures of the Deity, and all the principles 
 of the religion of Christ, are preventive and remedial. 
 Their very aim, as well as their effect, is to remove the 
 evil, to heal the wound, to restore the moral health — nay, 
 to render it more stable and vigorous — to carry forward 
 the education of man, and raise him to the highest 
 happiness and dignity of which his nature is capable. 
 And it is this very doctrine of responsibility — this 
 much-misunderstood and greatly-abused doctrine, which 
 is the essential condition of human improvement, and the 
 great instrument by which Providence works out the 
 good of the rational creation. Were man not responsible 
 — were there no established connexion between moral 
 causes and effects — were we not necessitated to take the 
 consequences of our actions — were we not, to some 
 extent, the creatures of habit — we could in no way be 
 subject to moral law, we could not in any case reckon 
 on the actions one of another, nor could the creative 
 power of the universe, however wise and benevolent, 
 effectuate its purposes respecting us ; no more could we, 
 in our own individual cases, calculate the results of our 
 actions, or secure the effect of our designs. Moral law 
 would disappear. Chance and uncertainty would be 
 universal. We should, in reality, be what Socialism 
 would make man — the passive creature of outward cir- 
 cumstances — the sport of a blind, irresistible destiny. 
 
 You have heard of the baneful consequences which 
 Socialism is pleased to ascribe to the prevalence of the 
 
 t Clarke's Chriistian's Looking Glass, p. 8. 
 
128 
 
 doctrine of responsibility ; I shall now trace some of the 
 innumerable evils which would ensue from its entire 
 supercession. We shall thus be able to judge whether 
 or not it is ' a doctrine worthy of all acceptation.' 
 
 Say that man's character is formed for and not by 
 him, and that, in consequence, he is irresponsible ; then, 
 of course, he can neither be praised nor blamed. The 
 inference is admitted by Socialists ; praise and blame 
 they profess to disallow.* I could easily show, from 
 their own publications, that they are unfaithful to the 
 deduction; but I am more desirous to see to what conse- 
 quences its consistent application would lead mankind. 
 
 What is praise ? The expression of approval. Blame ? 
 The expression of disapproval. Both are forbidden. 
 Now let us see what kind of a moral education you 
 could give without the*e influences. Take a child as 
 yet untrained and unimpressed. He has nothing, as 
 Socialism affirms, but his organization. His mind is a 
 blank. He will bo, in character, what circumstances 
 make him. You wish to give him a moral education ; 
 you must not use praise or blame, not in word, not in 
 look,rnot in manner. How will you teach him to dis- 
 tinguish between right and wrong ? How will you lead 
 liim to associate pleasing emotions with one kind of ac- 
 tion, and unpleasing emotions with another ? You must 
 express no approval, you must express no disapproval ; 
 neither praise him fi r what is right, nor blame him for 
 what is wrong. Wiiere, then, are the external circum- 
 stances which are to form his moral character ? Wrong 
 from right he docs not know ; — if you, his mother, in the 
 tenderness of your heart, at beholding him do well, say 
 to him, in the soft tones of your own love, ' that is right,' 
 — if your eye kindles on his with glad affection, when 
 you see the better part of character display its qualities 
 
 • Book of the New Moral WurUl. p^c 7. 
 
129 
 
 you are disobedient to the requirements of Socialism, and 
 have forfeited your claim to be considered a good in- 
 structor of your child. What, then, are you to do ? 
 How form your child's moral feelings ? Nay, what are 
 you to do, in relation to that amiable necessity of your 
 nature, which, in spite of system, throws the looks and 
 tones of tender approbation into your eyes and voice, 
 when you behold your little ones innocently enjoying 
 the pleasures which God and you have provided for 
 them ? Are you to restrain and annihilate the purest 
 and strongest impulses of your nature ? Yes, if Social- 
 ism is true. But that your own heart will tell you 
 cannot be true, which requires you to be untrue to emo- 
 tions, at once so pure, so useful, and so delightful, as the 
 approving emotions of the maternal breast. 
 
 Let us, however, suppose that the child has passed 
 the few first years of his life without any moral impres- 
 sions whatever. He has reached the period, when the 
 lower passions begin to act? To insulate him from 
 every thing which may arouse them, is an impossibility, 
 not even dreamed of anywhere, except, perhaps, in the 
 land of Socialist illusions. The child, then, will not fail 
 to manifest grief, dissatisfaction, vexation, it may be 
 anger, probably revenge. How are you to repress these 
 first risings of psssion ? Blame the child you must not, 
 nor give utterance to a word or a look of disapprobation. 
 Devoid, as he is, of any notion of moral distinctions, he 
 will be led to utter an untruth. Whence is the correct- 
 ing influence to come ? Or let us imagine — it could be 
 nothing but an imagination — that his little life is one 
 unbroken tenor of gentleness, affection, and truth, never 
 even rufliled by pain. Beware you do not express your 
 approval by the warmth of your motherly embrace ; 
 keep what love you have deep down in the recesses of 
 your bosom, lest your very conduct should signify 
 praise, and tend to give him a false education. Well, 
 
130 
 
 then, he thus grows up to riper years without any moral 
 distinctions whatever. In his eyes, one course of con- 
 duct is as rig-ht as another ; his only guide is his love 
 of pleasure and dislike of pain. Thus he goes into the 
 world. What can preserve him from moral ruin ? Or 
 send him into ' community ;' will he not take gratifica- 
 tion, as would the brute, w^herever and under whatever 
 circumstances it may present itself? What should 
 prevent him ? He does not know v.rong from right, he 
 cannot know them, for the ideas of wrong and right 
 cannot be communicated to a child, without the employ- 
 ment of terms which imply approval or disapproval, 
 praise or blame. In early education, at least, right is 
 nothing more than what the parent approves ; wrong is 
 that which he disapproves ; and long before reason can 
 be so formed and matured, as to admit of the metaphysical 
 conceptions which these terms involve, your child will 
 have had to act, will have done no little to form his 
 character, and thus be thrown on himself for guidance, 
 without being possessed of any moral resources. 
 
 Again ; annihilate merit and demerit, praise and blame, 
 you annihilate gratitude. Why should I be grateful to 
 a mere animated machine ? True, he has saved my life 
 at the peril of his own. But he did no more than he 
 was 'compelled' to do. The impulse which forced him 
 to risk his life, was as blind and resistless as that which 
 made the waters overwhelm me. Or, suppose that my 
 father has made ceaseless sacrifices in order to give me 
 a superior education : or that having lost my parents, a 
 stranger ' took me up,* and proved, in the best sense 
 of the word, a father to mo, a father to my mind and 
 heart. Why should I be thankful ? He acted only as ho 
 was 'compelled.' It was not his will, but his 'circum- 
 stances acting on his organization,' that made him bene- 
 ficent to me. And if I but feel a thrill of pleasure at 
 tlie sight of hini, if even his name makes my heart 
 
131 
 
 throb with pleasure, if I am unable to avoid these old- 
 fashioned emotions, at least I must not give them their 
 customary name; he had no merit, he deserves no grati- 
 tude. Or, should I succeed in hardening my breast to 
 these pleasing impulses, and stifle the voice of nature, 
 my benefactor cannot charge me with ingratitude, nor 
 consider me blame-worthy : I am but the creature of 
 irresistible circumstances, and deserve no blame, as he 
 deserves no praise. And so let us discontinue our 
 superstitious veneration for the great and good men of 
 by-gone days. You have been taught to think with gra- 
 titude and reverence of Sydney, Russell, and Hampden, 
 of Socrates, Milton, and Locke ; of those who have been 
 prodigal of their blood, in vindication of social liberty, 
 or labored in the birth of thoughts and feelings which 
 asserted, claimed, and won the priceless dower of human 
 rights ; but your sentiments are only the puerilities of 
 the old immoral and irrational world.' The time is 
 come for you to be men in intellect; and, in being so, 
 to deny the merit of the patriots and benefactors of the 
 past, and to rid your breats of the idolatries with which 
 you find them beset. 
 
 Where, too, on this system, is there ground for love 
 or affection to take root and grow ? These holy senti- 
 ments spring not so much from the mere receipt of 
 benefits, as from a sense of favors received, — of a kind 
 intention, of a self-denying effort, of sacrifice willingly 
 and cheerfully undergone by the beloved object on our 
 behalf. Complacency and passion are not love ; we 
 love those who love us, who study our happiness, labor 
 to further it, and refuse not even pain and sacrifice to 
 contribute to our comfort. But in ' The New Moral 
 World,' love will lose these inspirations, and sink into 
 a mere exchange of animal pleasures. One organiza- 
 tion will blindly act pleasurably on another organization 
 because it cannot help it ; and in such a state, affection 
 
132 
 
 will find no resting-place for the sole of its foot. Make 
 man the mere creature of circumstances, destroy his will, 
 and it is as proper to talk of * the loves of the plants,' 
 or of your affection for a stream of water, as of love 
 toward parent, child, or wife. 
 
 And thus may those of you who are now bound 
 together by the dear ties of gratitude, love, or consan- 
 guinity, clearly perceive of what a * paradise' of the 
 affections the realization of ' community' will put you 
 into possession 
 
 Once more : if there is no merit, no demerit, no praise, 
 no blame, no gratitude, no affection, if man is nothing 
 more than an animated machine, the creature of circum- 
 stances acting on his organization, so also is there no 
 virtue, no vice. Virtue and vice regard not so much the 
 outward act, as the motive, the design. The tree which 
 falls and kills a human being, is not vicious. The dog 
 that rescues a man from drowning, is not virtuous. The 
 mere infliction of pain does not constitute vice ; the com- 
 munication of pleasure does not amount to virtue. The 
 essence of the ideas which these terms involve, lies in 
 the will. Annihilate it, you anniliilate them. Make 
 man a reasoning machine, you render him incapable of 
 virtue or vice. Tiiore is no escape from this conclusion, 
 but in changing the meaning of the teniis. And so, in 
 a word, must Socialism revolutionise the whole language 
 not of one nation, but of humanity, before it can find 
 ground whereon to take a secure position. Nay, it has 
 a yet harder task ; it must revolutionise the human heart, 
 it nmst reach and destroy all the minute fibres of affec- 
 tion, >>hich have twined themselves around our moral 
 life, and eradicate the firmest and most subtle associa- 
 tions that have grown into the ideas and convictions of 
 our minds. But wiiat, my friends, are we to tliink of a 
 system of morals, which destroys the very essence of 
 morality, at the same time that it sweeps away, with 
 
133 
 
 a rough and unsparing hand, all the affections which 
 constitute the charm and the security of domestic and 
 social life ? 
 
 This is not all. Other consequences, not less fright- 
 ful, ensue from the fundamental teachings of Socialism. 
 As man has neither merit nor demerit, virtue nor vice, 
 so does he sustain no moral relation with God, and has, in 
 consequence, no hope for futurity. Yes ! I err, he has 
 a hope, if that may be termed hope which he possesses 
 in common with the beast which, in perishing, passes in 
 the unconscious elements of his nature into another 
 beast, or perchance into a tree, or a river, or a cloud, 
 or, it may even be, rises into the dignity of 'the first of 
 animals,' man. You have heard of the doctrine of the 
 heathen sage, Pythagoras, — 
 
 ' What, then, is death, but ancient matter drest 
 In some new figure, and a varied vest ? 
 Thus all things are but altered, nothing dies : 
 And here or there the unbodied spirit flies, 
 By time, or force, or sickness dispossessed, 
 And lodges where it lights, in man or beast ; 
 Or hunts without, till ready limbs it find. 
 And actuates those according to their kind. 
 From tenement to tenement is tost. 
 The soul is still the same, the figure only lost. 
 ***** 
 
 So death, thus call'd, can but the form deface, 
 The immortal soul flies out in empty space, 
 To seek her fortune in some other place.' 
 
 Ovid. Metam. Drt/dens Translation. 
 
 But I do Pythagoras injustice. Socialism disowns 
 the ' immortal soul ;' with it nothing is immortal but 
 ' the unknown power,' and omnipotent circumstances. 
 Life is but a transition into death, and death only a 
 change of organisations. Hear its own words, — ' All 
 men come from the same general elements ; all live upon 
 the same general atmosphere ; and, at dissolution, each 
 
 M 
 
134 
 
 particular organisation returns to the same general ele- 
 ments, to give new life to new compounds, and to re- 
 animate continually improving organisations : thus form- 
 ing the future eternal life, to which frohably there will 
 be no terminatioji;'* ' death itself will be considered sim- 
 ply as a change of one organisation for another.'f Such 
 is tbe hope which the Socialist has for futurity. With 
 no moral relation to ' the Unknown Cause of the uni- 
 verse,' no spiritual affections, * no worship, no forms 
 and ceremonies, no temples, no prayers,' | no merit, no 
 demerit, no virtue, no vice, he lives and dies like his 
 brother animals, and passes into * the general elements' 
 of nature, and may possibly, by some good chance, re- 
 appear in an improved organisation. So that the nope 
 of the Socialist reformer is similar to that which the 
 grazier entertains for his cattle, in the continual improve- 
 ment of the breed. And this is a picture of man ! of 
 man newly created after the model of Socialism :— but 
 for myself, I must say, in the words of our great dra- 
 matic poet, 
 
 ' I think he be traneforincd into a beast, 
 For I can no where find him like a man.' 
 
 J.H Yuu Like It, act '2, $. 7. 
 
 Such is the consummation to which the doctrine of 
 moral irresponsibility conducts. Its advocates are with- 
 out God and ' without hope in the world,' 
 
 But a doctrine which denies the spirituality of man 
 nmst be false. It is equally true that a doctrine which 
 disowns a future state of consciousness, is in direct hos- 
 tility to the great wants and wishes of humanity. One 
 of the Socialist writers has said, * If we have human 
 nature with us, we cannot fail.'§ I reply, you have hu- 
 man nature against you in its strongest and holiest 
 
 Book of the New Monl Wnrhl, page 31. t Ihiil, jvage 4S. 
 
 t Religion of the New Moral World. § Horton, page 13. 
 
135 
 
 instincts, and therefore cannot succeed. Is there one 
 lesson which comes forth more prominently and fully 
 from the history of our race, than that man is a spiritual 
 being; has, I mean, affections and sympathies, which lead 
 and bind him to the intelligent Creator and Guardian of 
 humanity, and carry forward his thoughts and yearn- 
 ings to a life of happiness beyond the grave ? The So- 
 cialist mav term this superstition. A hard name does 
 not alter a fact. And I undertake to prove that man is 
 as much a spiritual, as he is an intellectual, a moral, 
 or a social being. Whence does Socialism learn that 
 we possess animal and intellectual faculties ? V\^hence 
 does it deduce its doctrine of the resistlcssness of circum- 
 stances ? Whence, but from the history of our race ? 
 He has seen manifestations which lead him to the ac- 
 knowledgment, as to the only adequate cause, that man 
 is possessed of animal and intellectual aptitudes. What, 
 then, does the same authority say in regard to man's 
 alleged spiritual capacities ? Is it not written down in 
 the same page, which sets forth our inferior qualities, 
 that we are beings whose affections ascend to the infinite , 
 and pass onward into a futurity of conscious being ? Go 
 into whatever land you will in the history of man, you 
 will find indications of his spirituality. What else is the 
 meaning of the altar of unshapen stone, or the temple 
 which either presses the earth with its stupendous mass, 
 or rises in graceful spires, towering like the spirit itself 
 to the skies ? Whence, else, the never-failing existence 
 of a priesthood ; — whence the fearful power which, from 
 time to time, the priesthood has exercised over the mind 
 and heart? It is to no purpose that you tell me of the 
 corruptions which have connected themselves with the 
 principle. These illustrate, not deny the fact. The 
 greater the weight of the corruption, the stronger the 
 power of the principle. Deeply seated, indeed, in the 
 human breast must those sentiments be, which all the 
 
136 
 
 evils that the lower passions have brought upon it have 
 not been able to crush. No one of our faculties has 
 stood so severe a trial : and I will add, that in propor- 
 tion as civilisation has advanced, so have the spiritual 
 affections grown in strength as well as purity ; nor in 
 the present day, notwithstanding all the assaults of 
 Socialism and other forms of infidelity, do they appear 
 less elastic, less vigorous, than at any preceding period. 
 Ask your own hearts ; carry your thoughts over the 
 several families of the earth. Has the name of God 
 ceased to be hallowed ? Has the hope of futurity died 
 away ? Here and there you find an individual who de- 
 clares he reverences not the one, and has no desire for 
 the other. But in comparison with the race, these are 
 no more frequent than monstrous births, or any other 
 departure from a general law. Even those who see not 
 the evidence, still entertain the desire, if not the hope, of 
 a futurity. It is, in fact, wrought into the primary 
 constituent elements of our moral being. Times, indeed, 
 there may be, when a cloud of doubt may come over the 
 heart, and instances in which a life of profligacy may 
 undermine the desire ; but nature will re-assert her 
 power, and infuse hope where she cannot connnunicate 
 assurance, prompting language like in meaning to what 
 is expressed in this ' magnificent stanza :' 
 
 ' Yet if, as holiest men have dccm'd, there be 
 
 A land of souls beyond that sable shore. 
 To shame the doctrine of the Sadduccc 
 
 And sophists, madly vain of dubious lore ; 
 How sweet it were in concert to adore 
 
 With those who made our mortal labours light! 
 To hear each voice, wc fear'd to hear no more ! 
 
 Behold each mighty shade reveal'd to sight, 
 The Bactrian, Samian sage, and all who taught the right.' 
 ChUde JIarold, cxmto *2, stanza 8. 
 
 There spoke the inextinguishable voice of humanity. 
 Life is too good a thing to be resigned without a hope 
 
137 
 
 of its renewal. All its happy hours, all its pleasant me- 
 mories, all its dear ties bind and hold us to it. Even its 
 pains and its mysteries make us long for the adjustments 
 and disclosures which we fondly hope a future state 
 will bring ; and the deep and awful reverence which our 
 individual consciousness and the grandeurs of the uni- 
 verse have led us to feel towards God, prompt and invi- 
 gorate our * longing after immortality/ Such being the 
 fact, humanity is against Socialism, because Socialism 
 is against its highest, purest, and most durable yearn- 
 ings. There may be those who would rather not incur 
 the consequences which moral responsibility brings; but 
 let the good which such immunity offers be as great as 
 its advocates delusively imagine, the human mind would 
 feel the price too large, if it must barter away its power 
 of self-control, its best earthly affections, its connexion 
 with the benefactor of the universe, and its hope of. 
 immortality. 
 
 I have disproved the doctrine of irresponsibility, by 
 exhibiting the absurdities which it involves. I will now 
 disprove it by its own principles. I will take the Socialist 
 on his own ground, and show that, however he may 
 theorise, he is in fact responsible. I say in fact. I 
 beg that my language may be marked. You cannot 
 reason yourselves out of laws of your being, — laws which 
 are as intimately bound up with your very nature as is 
 the principle of life with the structure of your frames. 
 
 It will not be denied, that man is so constituted in 
 regard to the elements of his own nature, and so circum- 
 stanced in relation to his fellows in society and to the 
 external world, that certain invariable effects always 
 follow from the same causes. Look at the influence 
 of intemperance on the frame of your body. Notice 
 the consequences of a neglected education. Passion, 
 you know, disturbs and agitates the breast. The sequence 
 
 of cause and effect is as intimate in regard to the 
 
 M 2 
 
138 
 
 character, as it is in respect of the body. Withhold 
 sustenance, the body suffers derangement. Refuse 
 knowledge, the mind is disordered. Abandon the 
 temper to its own unrestrained impulses, the life is like 
 a troubled sea. Nor is it more certain, that an unsus- 
 tained body will fall towards the earth, than that the 
 unkind and unfriendly man will make himself many 
 enemies, and gain no true friends. Universal and most 
 intimate is the moral connexion of cause and effect. 
 Love is the parent of love ; anger produces anger ; an 
 injury calls forth retribution; generosity kindles a sense 
 of gratitude. 
 
 In the moral, then, as well as in the natural world, 
 we find ourselves in the region of law. The regular 
 succession of cause and effect, like producing like in 
 every possible variety of degree and hue, is the con- 
 dition in which humanity is placed. What is this but 
 the universal prevalence of law ? This, then, is tho 
 state into which * the unknown cause of the universe 
 has introduced the human family. Say that the cause 
 is as unintelligent as it is unknown, still you are 
 enslaved to the laws of your being. With those, indeed, 
 who admit and adore a primary intelligence, tlie truth 
 of their being responsible ensues inunediately from the 
 establishment of the existence of moral law. That law 
 is to them but the will of God, and so soon as they 
 feel its bonds, they also feel their answerableness to the 
 supreme Author of law. But if you deny the lawgiver, 
 you cannot abolish the law. That still exists, and 
 vindicates its authority by influences and penalties from 
 wliich there is literally no escape. You are, then, 
 responsible to the indestructible laws of your being. 
 You are not left to live as you list. Not an act can 
 you perform, not a word can you utter, not a thought 
 can you think, but you are made responsible, in the 
 good or evil consequences with which you are visited. 
 
]39 
 
 Every evanescent affection, as well as your most delibe- 
 rate acts, contributes something to form your character, 
 and to assert and illustrate your moral responsibility. 
 The assertion, therefore, that you are unanswerable for 
 your conduct, is but an idle word. You cannot even 
 make the trial of your being irresponsible, without exhi- 
 biting the folly of the idea. How will you set about the 
 experiment? The mere assertion is but empty breath. 
 Live, then, as if you were irresponsible — but O ! live not 
 so long, for the consequences will be most baleful; — must 
 they not be so, if you take no thought of your actions, no 
 care of your heart, and regard neither God nor man? To 
 put away responsibility is to affirm that your will, your 
 passions, or your circumstances shall be your guide, if 
 guide they can be called ; and the experience of their un- 
 restrained influence but for a day, will give but too mourn- 
 ful evidence of the responsibility under which you lie. In 
 fact you may, with as much propriety, declare yourself 
 free from the laws of the external world, and thereupon, 
 to furnish a proof, cast yourself from a precipice, or 
 plunge into the raging ocean, or defy the destructive - 
 ness of fire. You are surrounded and hedged in by law, 
 law prevades your whole being, — every feeling you 
 entertain, as much as every breath you draw. In this 
 fact consists the essence of responsibility. And every 
 effort you make to set the fact aside, will but illustrate 
 its irreversibleness. The laws of your mental and moral 
 life cannot be erased but with the dissolution of your 
 frame. They operate from the first to the last hour of 
 existence. Your present character is but the conse- 
 quence of your affections, thoughts, and actions, in con- 
 nexion with the influence of the circumstances through 
 which you have passed, — which circumstances you your- 
 self have done much to create; and your actual happiness 
 or misery is a declaration, by fact, of the responsibility 
 of your moral nature. * Now,' says our Lord, ' is the 
 
140 
 
 judgment of this world,' and ' now,' may every human 
 being- say, at every period of his life, and still more 
 emphatically when a peculiar crisis has roused and 
 concentrated into intense misery, or exquisite happiness, 
 the good or ill which lies in his character, — * now is the 
 judgment of my past life — now is the hand of retribu- 
 tion at work — verily I have my reward, and deeply feel 
 how thoroughly the principle of responsibility is wrought 
 into my whole existence.' Even a child's experience of 
 life is enough to show that the error of Socialism is a con- 
 tradiction to the laws of the moral world. Look at the 
 disingenuous, the self-willed, the refractory boy; is ho 
 happy like his fellow who loves and keeps the truth, 
 studies his parents' wishes, and diligently executes their 
 commands ? Cut an individual oif from the society of his 
 fellows — place him on some desert island — has he escaped 
 from his responsibility ? Lot him yield to despondency 
 — despondency will prove the parent of de-pair. Let 
 him give full indulgence to his appetites and passions, 
 abandon all self-control, and throw himself wild from 
 every rational restraint, — he commits the crime of moral 
 self destruction. Is there here no responsibility, no re- 
 tribution, no punishment? Or take an instance among 
 a class of men who are less obnoxious to the outward 
 restraints of responsibility tiian any otlier human beings — 
 take a slave owner : — he has, from the dawn of life till 
 now, exercised unrestrained dominion over others ; his 
 will has been his only acknowledged law ; labor ho im- 
 posed, pains he inflicted as he chose ; and he held and 
 exercised, with little effectual check, the power of lift 
 and death. Ho may appear free from responsibility — is 
 he so in fact ? What is his mental and moral condi- 
 tion ? It is worse, even, than that of the slaves over 
 whom he has tvrannised. With an ungovernable tem- 
 per, with passions that the slightest cross kindles into 
 rage, with a cruel and malicious heart, with an unstrung, 
 
141 
 
 a prematurely emaciated body, he is a wretched and 
 degraded being, absolute master as he is of the goods 
 and lives of hundreds of his fellow -creatures, and pos- 
 sessed of every external source of gratification : a just 
 recompense has overtaken him, and wuth too much 
 reason he may say, 
 
 ' The thorns which I have reaped are of the tree 
 
 I planted, — they have torn me, — and I bleed : 
 
 I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.' 
 
 Now what retribution would you have more than this ? 
 What other proof is needed of man's individual respon- 
 sibility ? 
 
 But more than the doctrine of individual responsibi- 
 lity is involved in this, and, indeed, in every case of the 
 moral consequences of our actions. * We are not re- 
 sponsible,' says the Socialist, ' to society ;' — who then, 
 or what, returns in kind the fruit of our doings ? The 
 slave-master even is responsible to his slaves, and from 
 them, in no inconsiderable degree, he receives the retri- 
 bution he has merited. It is a law of the moral as much as 
 of the physical world, that action and re-action are equal 
 and in opposite directions. The blow you give rebounds 
 on yourself. The good you perform is repaid into your 
 bosom. There needs not the existence of positive social 
 laws to establish or illustrate our social responsibility. 
 Society has done much to make us each what we are, 
 and the influence which it has exerted is, to no small ex- 
 tent, but the reflex operation of our own conduct. Is 
 not the dishonest man shunned, even though he escape 
 a prison ? Who repays the churl with love ? At the 
 best, do not the idle eat the bread of dependence, and 
 thereby suffer degradation ? And alter the ' Moial 
 World* as you please, you can never eradicate the law 
 of social retribution, the law by which like produces like. 
 Succeed, if you can, in exterminating evil, you will still 
 find the essence of responsibility remaining, in the re- 
 ciprocity of good which will prevail. Responsibility 
 
142 
 
 means that you shall reap as you sow, that men ' do not 
 gather grapes of thorns, nor figs of thistles.' 
 
 It is a fact, then, that we are under a social as well 
 as an individual responsibility. I do not mean that the 
 actual measures of social retribution are always strictly 
 just. They are not ; and from their imperfection arises 
 the necessity of positive law. Now positive law, in 
 theory, is the expression of the public will, the assertion 
 and carrying out of our social responsibility, without 
 those imperfections and failures which attend on what I 
 may term the spontaneous influences of society. It is, 
 so to say, a taking up of the responsibility under which 
 we necessarily lie one to another, in order to supply its 
 defects. Positive law creates nothing, but merely calls 
 forth and perfects a power felt and recognised by all ; — 
 this, I mean, is the theory of all social legislation, and 
 in this its character is the justification of its existence. 
 And all that the Socialist can gain in the actual state of 
 society, is to supersede one imperfect kind of responsibi- 
 lity to fall back upon a worse. Abolish positive law, 
 you have not abolished the laws of your nature, you are 
 still responsible ; — and I think no man, not blinded by 
 system, would prefer tlie dominion of Social anarchy to 
 the dominion — imperfect, and in many respects blame- 
 worthy though it is— of the general will of society, ex- 
 pressed in written law, and enforced by reformatory 
 sanctions. Should humanity ever reach perfection on 
 earth, it will not need the superadded influence of legis- 
 lation ; but even then responsibility, — social, indivi- 
 dual responsibility, will not have disappeared. Its in- 
 fluence will be altered, not its essence, being, as I have 
 before intimated, a reciprocity of good. 
 
 Now what are the essential laws of our nnture, but 
 the voice of the universal lawgiver ( They arc not of 
 our own formation. They exist as much without our act. 
 as without our consent. I lis they are who established 
 them : his who made man what he is. You are then re- 
 
143 
 
 sponsible to God as well as to yourselves, and to society. 
 It is towards the lawgiver that all responsibility finally 
 vests. And whether you call that lawgiver God, or an 
 unknown power, you change not the fact of your respon- 
 sibility. A blind or an unjust judge is as much a judge 
 as the vvisest and most benevolent. The only difference 
 material in the case is that on the one supposition, you 
 feel you are in the hands of a Father ; on the other, that 
 you are enchained to dark and inexorable fate. 
 
 If, however, man is irresponsible, then all men are 
 irresponsible, each as much and no more than the other. 
 The drunkard, the thief, the murderer, in consequence 
 are all free to pursue their destructive courses. Law 
 there is none, neither written nor unwritten, neither 
 human nor divine. If the wickeil are satisfied, they are 
 right. And if they are dissatisfied, you are not at liberty 
 to say they are wrong. Neither do you possess any 
 power to justify an interference. You have no right to 
 restrain them. You have no right to consider them dis- 
 eased. You have no right to apply the most gentle 
 remedies, however efficient you may think they would 
 prove. The villain and the tyrant are alike irresponsible 
 with yourself; and if, contrary to their will, you lay a 
 hand upon them, it is the hand of violence and injustice. 
 Say your self-preservation demands their punishment, 
 why should you be preserved and they destroyed ? Say 
 it requires their reformation ; what right have you to 
 judge for another? He is not responsible to you for his 
 actions, or his condition. You may, indeed, choose to 
 go against him armed with the power of society, but 
 might is not right. He does not acknowledge your au- 
 thority, and he is irresponsible. In fact, you abolish 
 right in abolishing responsibility, for right and obliga- 
 tion imply each other, and the man that is irresponsible 
 is obliged to nothing. If you possess a right, I am 
 under an obligation ; and if you set me free from all 
 
144 
 
 obligation by destroying my responsibility, you can have 
 no right even to attempt to do me o:ood. Could you 
 then realise your fundamental principles, the only re- 
 sult would be, that ' Chaos is come again,' for earth 
 would be without law, and heaven without a lawgiver. 
 
 I am persuaded that there are, among Socialists, per- 
 sons who have never seen the frightful consequences, 
 the universal anarchy, to which their principles would 
 lead ; for, how pleasing soever it maybe to some, to strip 
 society of its power, and to disarm conscience of its 
 sting, there doubtless are many, I would hope the great 
 majority, who are too wise for themselves, and love their 
 family too well, and their kind too well, to inflict on 
 them, knowingly and deliberately, the untold and unap- 
 preciable calamities which must ensue from setting 
 society, and especially its more abandoned members, 
 free from all the moral obliL::ations, restraints, and reme- 
 dial influences which ensue from our responsibility to 
 self, to the community, and to God. Reform our penal 
 legislation if you will ; mitigate, abolish our sanguinary 
 code ; obliterate the very word punishment ; make the 
 spontaneous and the positive influences of society 
 remedial and beneficent ; educate and train yourselves 
 and your fellow-citizens till every man shall be a law 
 to himself; establish the supremacy of conscience ; — 
 thus reform the world, and concur in accelerating 
 the advent of the kingdom of Christ ; 1 wish you 
 God's speed — every true Christian and every wise and 
 benevolent man will give you aid : but if you perseverr 
 in striving to introduce moral anarrhy, and to sunder tl. 
 bonds which unite the creature to the Creator, the only 
 result you have to expect is the most steady and the 
 most determined opposition ; — and then, — alas ! too latr 
 you will discover, in the direful effects of your own 
 actions on yourselves and your families, that you and 
 they arc responsible. 
 
LECTURE VII. 
 
 It is the lot of every country which has made a 
 forward step in civilisation; to have repeatedly under- 
 gone a prevalence of extreme opinions. More or less 
 of social disturbance seems the indispensable price at 
 which social progress is purchased. But the calm 
 returns. Extreme opinions disappear. Good sense and 
 right feeling resume their empire. Men regain their 
 sanity, and violent agitators sink into merited oblivion. 
 Were hey only nearly as wise as they are fierce, they 
 might easily foresee their fate. The progress of humanity 
 has never been by starts and sallies, but by easy grada- 
 tions. Its movements ensue not from several impulses 
 operating collectively in one direction, but from a com- 
 bination of opposing forces, which direct its step in a 
 medium course. Men of violent opinions, therefore, 
 are sure to fail in their pernicious designs. Either 
 human nature must change, must part with all its con- 
 servative powers, and its history take an altogether 
 dijQferent character, or they are destined to fret their 
 little hour on the stage, and then retire ' to dull forget- 
 fulness a prey.' 
 
 Perhaps there never was a period in the history of our 
 own country, when there prevailed greater or more 
 numerous extremes of opinion than at the present day. 
 The Reformation, the Civil Wars, the Revolution brought 
 forth each a plentiful spawn of extravagant errors ; yet 
 must they yield the discreditable pre-eminence to our 
 own age. Even the first principles of social, domestic, 
 and individual life, are not only brought into debate, but 
 vehemently denied. The reason is, we are in the midst 
 
146 
 
 of a great social revolution. Old things are passing" 
 away, and society is about to appear in a renovated form. 
 And when it has cast off the slough of ages of ignorance, 
 it will present itself with its frame and its essential 
 members not only uninjured, but gifted with the elements 
 of a new and vigorous existence. Even in the very 
 extravagance of some notions now pandering for popu- 
 larity, there may be no small advantage to the cause of 
 the true and the right. The more extreme they are, the 
 shorter will be their feverish life. Their confutation is 
 in their absurdity. The greater the lengths to which 
 they go, the easier is the task which reason and the 
 permanent instincts of our nature have to perform in 
 dealing with tliem. 
 
 It will hence be gathered that I have no fear that the 
 extravagancies of Socialism can gain apennanent footing 
 amongst us. Their day can be but brief. Some of its 
 disorganising doctrines have been already, and not once 
 merely, weighed in the balance and found wanting. 
 Christianity has survived many much more fearful 
 attacks than Socialism has the power to make. Atheism 
 under every possible form, and with more formidable 
 resources, has been exploded. The community of pro- 
 perty has been tried and condemned. Its moral fatalism 
 the human heart has again and again rejected ; and just 
 in proportion as civilisation has made advances, has it 
 been found that polygamy, the essence of which Owcnism 
 has revived with a change of form, has lost footing in 
 the world. The errors which society has slain singl} 
 can have no prospect of gaining prevalence when prt- 
 .«»cnted in a mass. How much soever they may thus 
 gratify and conciliate the diseased appetite, they arc 
 only the more sure to be repudiated by that large 
 majority whose minds and hearts are sound in the main, 
 and who conspire to give societ}^ at once its tone and it» 
 direction. 
 
147 
 
 But though the passage of Socialism on to the tomb 
 must be sure and rapid, it may meanwhile inflict irre- 
 parable injury on some, and those, persons to whom 
 rom the infelicity of their actual condition, a moral in- 
 jury is a deadly blow. Should it, for instance, tend to 
 deepen the discontent of the discontented ; to throw a 
 veil of justification around the disposition which exists, 
 on the part of some, to resort to the use of violence ; 
 should it render more intense and morbid the jealousies 
 which subsist between the employer and the employed, 
 and make still more evil the eye with which many look 
 on property, v»'ith whose security, and on machinery, 
 with whose unimpaired working their own welfare, and 
 the welfare of society at large, — nor least of the working- 
 classes, — are most intimately connected ; should it re- 
 move the constraints which a regard to God and eter- 
 nity cannot fail to exert, and set the wicked free from 
 all sense of responsibility ; should it sunder existing 
 domestic ties, or widen and embitter actual domestic 
 estrangements ; should it make the father neglectful of 
 his home-duties, while in chase after the illusions of 
 * community'; — then, if to no others, certainly to those 
 who come under its immediate influence, Sociahsm can 
 but prove greatly and lastingly baneful. But perhaps 
 its heaviest blow will fall on the domestic relations. 
 They, from their very delicacy, are most susceptible of 
 injury, as are all the finer feelings of our nature. And 
 considering how very imperfect has been the education 
 of the mothers and the children of the large bulk of our 
 laboring population, I cannot fail to apprehend that 
 Owenism has already inflicted on some families an irre- 
 parable injury. The husband who has been taught to 
 think, as an indisputable fact, that his domestic bonds 
 are as detrimental as they are factitious — that but for 
 the inventions of priests and the irrational and arbitrary 
 decrees of law, he might be as free from domestic obli- 
 
148 
 
 gations as when first he looked on life with the eye of 
 youth — is not very likely to show a kind and forbearing 
 spirit at home ; and it is well if he does not, by his 
 bearing, make what he considers his chains, more galling 
 to himself and more offensive to those around him. It 
 is, therefore, with a melancholy pleasure that I offer 
 myself as the advocate of the sanctity and perpetuity of 
 the domestic ties, and plead against a pretended philo- 
 sophy, the cause of the wives and the children of the 
 poor. 
 
 I have hitherto made it a point to state the doctrines 
 of Socialism in its own language, — I cannot do so in 
 this instance. If I could bring myself to transcribe, I 
 could not bring myself to give public utterance, to so 
 much of what is low, offensive, not to say cahimnious, 
 as would be necessary, in order to let the system pro- 
 pound itself in its own words. But on this very account 
 I shall consider the obligation more sacred to keep my 
 representations within the actual facts. And, indeed, 
 in relation to some of his statements, Mr. Owen may 
 well defy exaggeration. 
 
 Our existing domestic system, then, is described as 
 one huge mass of unqualified evil. The pure invention 
 of priestcraft, it is sustained solely by priestcraft and 
 the ignorance and frenzy which priestcraft has engen- 
 dered. It must be destroyed, root and branch. The 
 world is to go into ' community' ; and then, butnot till 
 then, nature is to be the sole guide and impulse in the 
 formation of each successive connexion, the fruits of 
 which are to be taken care of under public arrange- 
 ments. The duration of the tie is to be measured by 
 the duration of the sentiment which led to its formation. 
 All ' single family' establisbments are to bo broken up, 
 and we are to live together over the face of the land, in 
 social families of from 500 to 2000 persons each. And 
 this disposition is to be made in connexion with plans 
 
149 
 
 which will require not more than the labor of two hours 
 each day from persons between the ages of twenty-five 
 to thirty ; — all who have passed the latter period of life 
 are to be free from labor, and to be occupied merely in 
 watching over the working of the Social machinery. 
 These families, all over the globe, will, in the second 
 generation, all speak one language, and speedily have 
 but one interest. 
 
 In order that those of my hearers who may not trouble 
 themselves with this system further than the audience 
 they give to my remarks, may have some assurance 
 that 1 have not over-stated the matter, I will make on^e 
 quotation, and that of a very moderate character. 
 
 ' No immorality can exceed that which is sure to 
 arise from society compelling individuals to live continu- 
 ally together, when they hav^e been made, by the laws 
 of their nature, to lose their affections for each other, 
 and to entertain them for another object. How much 
 dreadful misery has been inflicted upon the human race, 
 through all past ages, from this single error ! How 
 much demoralisation ! How many murders ! How 
 much secret, unspeakable suffering, especially to the 
 female sex ! How many evils are experienced over the 
 world, at this moment, arising from this single error of 
 the imaginary free-will system, by which men have been 
 so long, so ignorantly and miserably governed.' * 
 
 In better days, so proverbial were * the merry homes 
 of England,' and so current was the acknowledgment 
 that ' an Englishman's home was his castle,' that our 
 ancestors willingly perilled the comforts of those homes, 
 their property, and their life, to preserve them un- 
 touched and unsoiled by the hand of violence ; and sure 
 do I feel that the texture of the British heart is not so 
 changed as to give a calm entertainment to doctrines 
 
 * Owen's Lectures in Manchester, page 78. 
 n2 
 
150 
 
 which would rase their homes with the ground, and 
 scatter to the winds of heaven, the sanctity, affections, 
 and happiness which they still enshrine. 
 
 The chang-es which he proposes are not expected by 
 the Social visionary himself, until his economical plans 
 have taken effect, and moral evil is swept from the face 
 of the earth. On this point, then, I meet him. When 
 individuals have attained perfection, then the marriage 
 bond is to be broken at will, and children are to be edu- 
 cated under public arrang-ements. And to any objec- 
 tions made to certain parts of their system. Socialists 
 have a ready and a constant answer — ' We shall reserve 
 the practice of these principles till we are so situated, 
 in the New Moral World, as to have a society of our 
 own.'* I am not without my reasons for suspecting 
 that this plea has been forced on the acceptance of So- 
 cialists. By their disorganising doctrines they have 
 roused against them ' a power behind the throne stronger 
 than the throne itself It was no pleasant prospect 
 which was held out to the matrons and daughters of our 
 cottages, that tliey should be liable to dismissal on failure 
 of good behaviour. Even when their interests did not 
 prompt tliem to opposition, their heart, their best affec- 
 tions rebelled against the idea, and they could not 
 calmly anticipate the contingency of being rudely se- 
 vered from those ties and endearments, whicli, whatever 
 they may be to some men, are of more value than life 
 itself to the heart of woman. Socialism, therefore, 
 halted and loitered in its progress. It liad made its 
 appeal to all the lower feelings of humanity ; but when 
 it struck at the sanctity of domestic love, it went a step 
 too far, and was compelled to fall back on some place of 
 refuge. Then, in consequence, came fortli the decree 
 for delay — ' Wait for some things till the world is as wo 
 
 * Tlic New Marriage System, by Robert Owen, page 13. 
 
151 
 
 will make it; and then, when it and you are perfect, 
 you may adopt the new marriage system.' In this, 
 however, Socialism is only true to its principles, in 
 yielding to the force of resistless ' circumstances.' One 
 half of society arrayed against it in mild but determined 
 hostility, and all but a fraction of the other half either 
 indifferent or hostile, were certainly fearful odds, and 
 might well make even a Socialist pause and re- consider 
 his ground. 
 
 Now, in sober earnestness, what can be more purely 
 theoretical, more visionary, more useless — to take its 
 least fault first — than for Socialism to dream ihe dreams 
 of what may be fit and right in a state of social perfec- 
 tion? On the surface of their case, was any thing 
 more wild, impracticable, and impossible ever concocted ? 
 Other men have indulged in fond visions and flattering 
 divinations ; and though they constructed their imagi- 
 nations merely for the amusement, the recreation, or 
 the exercise of the minds of the more refined, they met 
 with scarcely any other reward than the smile of ridi- 
 cule. But Socialism not only surpasses all their efforts 
 in the extravagance of its visions, but also in the au- 
 dience which it seeks and partly gains. It is to the 
 poor, the ignorant, the dissatisfied, it propounds its dark 
 delusions. To what end ? Avowedly to be realised 
 and acted on long after the present generation shall be 
 at sleep with their fathers ! And this is the ' rational ' 
 mode of reforming the world ! These ' rational ' re- 
 formers are wont to treat, with no small disdain, the 
 prospect of future reward which religion presents to its 
 followers. ' We will make the present world happy,' is 
 the taunt of Socialism, ' and willingly leave to the Chris- 
 tian the contingency of future bhss.' Now, would it 
 not be more consistent, and quite as rational, if it would 
 concern itself with improving the actual condition of 
 domestic life, rather than weave the gossamer web of 
 fancy on behalf of future generations ? 
 
152 
 
 But when the world has attained perfection, I see not 
 that it will greatly matter whether its domestic system 
 be that which now prevails or another. A perfect world 
 will either find or make its institutions perfect. Posi- 
 tive law, indeed, as it implies, so is it designed and 
 fitted for, an imperfect state of society ; and those who 
 know aught of civil history, are perfectly aware that 
 social institutions do not lag far behind the civilisation 
 of the day. Certainly we have no occasion to give our- 
 selves trouble to legislate for our superiors ; and if we 
 undertake so gratuitous a task, we shall but spend our 
 strength in vain. Institutions do not spring from mere 
 speculations, but from experience, and a sense of want 
 and of obvious utility ; of which each age is at once the 
 only competent judge, and the sole and supreme arbiter. 
 When perfection comes, perfection will provide for it- 
 self; and it would be far more ' rational' for those who 
 aspire to the character of Social reformers, to employ 
 their whole, their undivided energy, after the example 
 of Jesus Christ, in ministering to tlie actual necessities 
 of the times in which they live. 
 
 These remarks would remain substantially correct, 
 even if the postponement in question was not so remote 
 as till ' the perfect day' of our social condition. 'Sufil- 
 cient for tiie day is the evil thereof.' Study and labor 
 to supplv our present wants. There is work enough at 
 hand to employ all your faculties ; and be assured, that 
 the only guarantee you can have of the coming of better 
 and happier times, is in making those in which you live 
 as good and as happy as you can. At least, if in the 
 comprehensiveness of your mind, you nuist aim to be- 
 nefit the future, take special care you do not employ 
 means which will injure the present ; but rather — hero, 
 too, imitating the example of • The Great Tcaclier,* of 
 him who spake as never man spake — let the principles 
 you adopt be such as will contain the germ of present 
 and the fruit of future good. All the divine plans for 
 
153 
 
 man's improvement bear the character of a growth, not 
 merely in being slow and gradual, but also in their 
 power of continual developement, — first the shoot, then 
 the ear, then the corn, and then the harvest. 
 
 Socialism, in its rationality, reverses the process, 
 and does ill that good may come. Am I not warranted 
 in saying so by the very fact, that it has been led to post- 
 pone, to the Greek calends, the adoption of its new 
 domestic system ? What is this postponement but 
 either a dereliction of principle, or a confession that it is 
 unfit and would prove detrimental in the actual condi- 
 tion of society ? If the principles propounded are true 
 and of universal utility, why abandon them to the mere 
 outcry of prejudice ? Is this your conduct in regard to 
 other fundamental parts of your system ? Is this con- 
 duct worthy of men who have announced themselves, in 
 every form of emphasis, the only ' rational' members of 
 society ? If, then, after having gone so far as to de- 
 clare, to teach, to publish ' the New Marriage System,' 
 you shrink from the enforcement of it, and put off its 
 adoption to some part of the eternity yet to come, how 
 can we fail to infer that you have yourselves a lurking 
 doubt of its truth and usefulness ; and you can scarcely 
 think that we go too far, if we add that you have your- 
 selves found evil instead of good to result from your 
 efforts in its behalf. At all events, you are convicted 
 of having thrown before the world the details of a sys- 
 tem, which, by your own confession, would prove inju- 
 rious to society in its actual condition. 
 
 But I go farther than this. I accuse Socialism of 
 absolute wickedness, on the ground that it has assailed 
 our existing domestic system, without having a better 
 capable of being immediately substituted in its place ; 
 and propounded ideas, which, while they tend to disor- 
 ganise our actual institutions, cannot, by its express 
 admission, take effect till the world has become its con- 
 
154 
 
 rert, and reached the perfection which it promises. 
 Whatever Socialism may think or do in the case, no 
 true friend of his kind would destroy existing modes of 
 thought and social institutions, except he had the means 
 of replacing them by something better. The real bene- 
 factors of man have always thought it a prime duty to 
 look at what was practicable, as well as what was 
 desirable or contingently useful ; and it is only when 
 they have seen their way clear to the substitution of a 
 better order of things, ihat they have taken means for 
 breaking in pieces the actual institutions of society. 
 But Socialism assaults what it is pleased to consider bad, 
 without having a good to put in its place. It smites 
 the wound, it professes its inability to heal. 
 
 It is, however, not only in relation to its * New 
 Marriage System,' but other of its essential doctrines, 
 that Socialism requires a state of perfection, as well as 
 an uniformity of opinion. In ' community,' it would 
 appear, from its reasonings, there are to be no bad 
 passsions. AH will think and feel alike. The interest 
 of each will be felt to be the interests of all, and men 
 will be so comprehensive in their love, as to undevia- 
 tingly study and seek the general good. Fathers will 
 not cease to love their children, but they will love their 
 own and the oflfspring of others with an equal affection. 
 And men of more active energies and superior talents, 
 will be content to take an equal share of good, with 
 persons whose endowments and ability bear no com- 
 parison with their own. Self is to be annihilated, 
 universal benevolence is to take its place. No vanity, 
 no pride, no grudging, no anger; 'community' is a 
 *|paradise' on earth. Then, and not till then, 'The New 
 Marriage System' is to come into operation. Youth 
 and the first age of manhood will alone do the work 
 which will have to be done, which in itself will bo 
 rather recreation than labor. When tvUI — rvhen cah 
 
155 
 
 thisr be ? You have heard of the Millenium, and 
 Socialists have not failed to lau^h its visions to scorn. 
 By what right ? Was ever enthusiasm more illusory 
 than their own ? Did ever sober philosophy array itself 
 in colors so gaudy and evanescent ? You have heard 
 of the golden age of the heathen poets — 
 
 ' Soon as the deathless gods were born, and man, 
 A mortal race, with voice endow'd, began. 
 The heavenly powers from liigh their work behold. 
 And the first age they styled an age of gold ; 
 Men spent a life like gods, in Saturn's reign, 
 Nor felt their mind a care, nor body pain : 
 From labor free, they every sense enjoy. 
 Nor could the ills of time their peace destroy ; 
 In banquets they delight, remov d from care ; 
 Nor troublesome old age intruded there : 
 They die, or rather seem to die ; they seem 
 From hence transported in a pleasing dream. 
 The fields as yet untill'd, their fruits afford, 
 And fill a sumptuous and unenvy'd board : 
 Thus, crown'd with happiness their every day. 
 Serene and joyful, pass'd their life away.' 
 
 Cooke's Hesiod. 
 
 But Socialism not only promises more than this, but 
 effects it with a less instrumentality. Its golden age is 
 to be brought about without the aid or acknowledgment 
 of any ' heavenly powers,' and in spite of the many 
 direful evils with which it affirms the world is infested. 
 And these are the fairy visions which working men — 
 men of a class who are generally reputed to possess 
 strong, if not cultivated minds — working men, who 
 declare them and theirs the only ' rational' part of our 
 race — hurry hither and thither in the pursuit of, like a 
 boy eagerly chasing a butterfly ; and meanwhile divert 
 no small portion of their energies from their employ- 
 ments, and leave their homes unguarded, uninstructed, 
 in the midst of what they consider ' a wicked and per- 
 verse generation.' I ask again what opinion sober com- 
 mon sense can entertain of the practicability of these 
 theories ? 
 
156 
 
 But I will put the matter in a rather different light. 
 And I dwell on it because it meets the enquirer at every 
 turn in his investigation of Socialism. The whole issue, 
 indeed, between Socialism and its opponents, depends, 
 in no small degree, on the possibility of its visions being 
 converted into realities. Let this bubble burst, and 
 Socialism has vanished. 
 
 You may fairly and safely judge of the possibility of 
 any system's being brought into operation, when you 
 have become acquainted with the persons who undertake 
 to give it effect. If they are true to the principles they 
 profess, they may reap some success ; but if they are 
 unfaithful, they cannot do otherwise than fail. Prin- 
 ciples in themselves have little power ; it is in their con- 
 sistent exposition and maintenance, in their practical 
 exhibition in the life, that they gain that influence 
 which carries them in triumph into the minds and con- 
 duct of those who are cither indifferent or hostile to 
 them. What Socialists may be in tlieir private conduct, 
 how far faithful or unfaithful to their professions, I am 
 not about to enquire ; but their writings are open to all, 
 and present what, by the very fact of their being 
 published, they themselves must consider a favourable 
 aspect of the spirit they breatlie. Now there is no one 
 feeling which Socialists more earnestly inculcate by word 
 than charity ; — the universal prevalence of charity they 
 predict as the inevitable result of tlie prevalence of their 
 system. On this ground, tlierefore, they cannot refuse 
 to be judged. Well, then, I declare, with a painful 
 assurance that I cannot overstate the fact, that a more 
 uncharitable spirit than their publications display was 
 never presented to the world. Their opinions they 
 assert as if with a sense of infallibility equal to the claim 
 of the Pope himself. And for the opinions of others, 
 for their practices, for their worship of God, their love 
 of Christ, for their affection for home, for their efforts 
 
157 
 
 to do good — they have nothing but terms of condemna- 
 tion. Every class of society is in the wrong, and all 
 the more cultivated professions are filled with the 
 cheating or the cheated, and the disciples of Christ are, 
 with scarcely an exception, one mass of hypocrites. 
 Socialists state their views and assail the views of others, 
 as if their motto were, 
 
 ' Such is my creed, and whoso likes it not, 
 Is blockhead, coxcomb, puppy, fool, and sot/ 
 
 What then can be expected ? If their hand is against 
 every man, will not every man's hand be against them ? 
 And in the contest which will prevail, — their prediction 
 of charity, or their practice of uncharitableness ? Are 
 persons of this spirit likely to bring peace on earth and 
 good will among men ? Are the means they employ in 
 unsparing and general condemnation, the way to convert 
 the world, or to establish the reign of universal love ? 
 As is the seed sown, so is the harvest. He who sows 
 uncharitableness, will reap ill-will. At all events, 
 whether men take the pains or not to repay Socialism 
 in kind, it is but too obvious they cannot learn universal 
 benevolence of those who profess it in word, but subvert 
 it in fact. And if there is one class of men which, more 
 than another, falls under the severity of their scourge, 
 it is the clergy of all denominations. Are they likely 
 to prefer the gadfly of Socialist intolerance, to the 
 spirit of Him who was meek and lowly in heart ? Or 
 will any one who has felt the kindly and refining influ- 
 ence of the Christian temper, resign and renounce it, 
 in order to sit at the feet of those whose tongue is full 
 of venom ? The gospels must perish, the example of 
 Christ must prove impotent, before Socialism can pre- 
 vail among men. 
 
 And therefore its prevalence is an impossibility. 
 Socialism will have its reward in the neglect which it 
 has earned by its fierce spirit of proscription. For a 
 
 o 
 
158 
 
 time, and within narrow limits, it may live, supporting 
 a ]trecarious being, on the corruptions of our social con- 
 dition ; but it has not the health, soundness, and vigor, 
 which are indispensable to a long, flourishing, and 
 widely-spread existence. 
 
 I return, then, to its matrimonial theories; and I say 
 that it is no less than wicked to throw notions into the 
 very heart of society which must tend to make existing 
 connnoxions irksome ; to sever existing bonds ; to ex- 
 tinguish even the relics of domestic afiection, at the 
 very time that you have no chance whatever of realis- 
 ing the condition, on the realisation of which alone, you 
 yourself declare, depends the adoption of your necessa- 
 rily disorganising doctrines. This is not merely to do 
 evil that good may come, but it is to do evil without the 
 remotest possibiUty of doing good. At the very least, 
 and on your own confession, you anticipate no good 
 from your domestic theories till the present race of mo- 
 thers have passed off the stage of life ; but, in reality, 
 you injure one generation without the possibility of be- 
 nefitting the next. You upturn the foundations of do- 
 mestic life, but cannot constitute it afresh ; and if you 
 did succeed in re-constructing the social frame accord- 
 ing to your own model, and made wiiat you term ' na- 
 ture * the only impulse and guide in ihe formation and 
 dissolution of domestic connexions, the sole result would 
 be, that with a greater licence and every possible scope 
 for the unrestrained operation of caprice and passion, 
 you would multiply, a thousand times over, the evils 
 which we now deplore, without securing the iuestimablo 
 advantages of our actual condition. Every sensible 
 man, therefore, would rather bear the ills he has, tlian 
 fly to others that he knows not of. Upon your heads, 
 however, will rest the serious responsibility of having 
 aggravated, in many families, the discomforts which 
 they have to endure; and I see not how you can plead 
 
159 
 
 in extenuation, any compensating* advantage of which 
 you have put them into possession. If the heart of the 
 husband is in any case cankered by your doctrines, and 
 what still remains of affection towards his partner de- 
 stroyed ; if he has come to look on his children as a 
 burden and an annoyance ; if, in consequence, he shuns 
 his home and seeks his pleasures — pleasures which have 
 the zest of novelty — in other societies than the one 
 w^hich he is bound to tend and cherish by every manly 
 feeling, to say nothing of higher considerations ; — if 
 she who was once the friend of his bosom, and might 
 perhaps have remained so, or again have recovered her 
 lost position, but for your alienating doctrines — if she 
 has to complain of coldness and desertion; if she pines 
 away in neglect, or but too pardonably gives loose to 
 anger, nay, should even study revenge; if her children — 
 still hers, if not his, she will not abandon them — should 
 grow up in ignorance, and suffer the other inevitable 
 and deadly consequences of their father's estrange- 
 ment, and of the heartburnings and disturbance of their 
 home : — if these lamentable evils — evils which in them- 
 selves and their results it makes one shudder and weep 
 to think of — should in any case ensue from your teach- 
 ing that the marriage tie is dissoluble at will^, and the 
 whole of our domestic arrangements a compound of 
 folly, fraud, and calamity — then, you who have thrown 
 out ideas which you dare not stand by, and propounded 
 positions whose adoption you are compelled to postpone 
 indefinitely ; you, and not least he who originated the 
 destructive theory, will be justly chargeable with this 
 baneful invasion of the hearths of Englishmen. And 
 should your fancied irresponsibility deaden your con- 
 science against the contrition you ought to feel, you 
 will not fail to reap your just recompense of reward, in 
 the condemnation which every virtuous and right- 
 minded head of a family will feel, if not pronounce, 
 
160 
 
 against you. If anj^ doctrines can, such as those you 
 teach on this vitally-important topic would justify every 
 father in denying you access within the sacred precincts 
 of his home. And much do I misunderstand the work- 
 ings of their bosoms, and the tone of feeling which 
 they cherish and breathe, if the daughters of our British 
 peasantry do not make you practically feel that they 
 have no part or lot with you ; nor will allow their purest 
 and strongest affections and their fondest hopes to be 
 trifled with, nay, to be fatally undone. Whoever 
 broached this theory, whoever maintains it, is a stranger 
 to the heart of woman — to the strength, depth, and en- 
 duringness of its affections — to the tenacity with whicli 
 it clings to the object to which it has once given its 
 love — to the refinement, delicacy, and sacredness which 
 characterise the feelings of a wife and mother. Men, 
 for aught I know, there may be, who have but tran- 
 siently felt, and never encouraged, that strong and deep 
 individual attachment which the trials and the ills of life, 
 and the decay of bodily vigor, do but render more near, 
 sacred, and pleasurable; but woman's heart clings to 
 the one object round which its affections originally 
 twined. 
 
 But I deny the assumption on which you base the 
 necessity for the change you propose. Doubtless, 
 indeed, many deplorable evils are connected with our 
 present domestic svstcm. There are many, very many 
 unhappy homes, and to many a sin does the unhappiness 
 give rise. But yours is not a remedy — it is an aggra- 
 vation of the disorder. And you have not shown, you 
 cannot show that existing evils are of a necessity inhe- 
 rent in the actual system. Remember, assertions are 
 not proofs, nor declamatory vituperation anything better 
 than reprehensible extravagance. He who takes tho 
 mere accidents of a system for its essential qualities, 
 and proceeds thereupon to pour out upon it the vials 
 
161 
 
 of his wrath, may mislead the unwary, but cannot fail 
 to make the tliinking- smile, and the judicious grieve. 
 Nor has he any claim to be considered an impartial or a 
 trust- worthy judg-e, who has an eye and a tongue 
 only for the faults and misdemeanors of the accused. 
 And the very depth of the colors in vvhich you describe 
 our actual domestic condition, shows that if you are 
 honest, you have never seen but the dark side of tJie 
 picture. The fact, however, I take it, is, you have 
 brooded so long and so profoundly over the dire chimeras 
 of your beclouded fancy, that you have lost the power 
 of seeing objects in any other hue than its. Certainly 
 the judgment of society is against your black and revolt- 
 ing description. You may easily make the experiment 
 for yourselves. Go into any one of our cottages, pro- 
 vided it be not already chilled and distracted by your 
 doctrines, and simply declare to the father and the 
 mother, one half of what you have ventured to put in 
 print, and you will quickly be made to feel the extent 
 of the outrage of which you have been guilty. There 
 may not be entire concord in the house ; there may even 
 be a great falling off from the fulness of the blessing 
 which pure, enlightened, and religious wedlock brings ; 
 there may be many a care about the means of subsistence, 
 and but a gloomy prospect for the proper education and 
 suitable placing out of the children — but there is love 
 enough, and a sutFiciently strong sense of domestic happi- 
 ness, to cause your doctrines to be met with the scorn 
 which they deserve, and which they cannot fail to excite 
 in any unpoisoned mind. 
 
 I am not about to offer myself as the eulogist of the 
 Christian homes of our land, — eulogy they need not ; — 
 but I should consider myself unworthy of the task I 
 have undertaken, if I did not, in the actual circum- 
 stances, express the belief with which I am penetrated, 
 that a Christian home is a truly happy spot — the safe 
 
 o 2 
 
162 
 
 resting-place of the heart — the fertile soil of the highest 
 qualities of humanity — the nurse of those sanctities of 
 earthly and spiritual love which are our best and noblest 
 property in this state, and the only sufficient educators 
 for the life to come. And, in my opinion, the very 
 essence of this priceless good consists in the invio- 
 lability of the conjugal relation. Make it terminable in 
 this state by any thing but death or crime — abrogate 
 the Christian law of domestic connexion — destroy its 
 religiousness, — you, at the same time, remove its secu- 
 rity — you do away with its sanctity — you give latitude 
 and encouragement to temper and caprice — you allow 
 full play for a passing misunderstanding to grow into 
 deep alienation and perpetual enmity — you aflford 
 licence for still greater inconsideration and rashness in 
 the formation of connexions, by the ease with which 
 you permit them to be dissolved — you create a fearful 
 and suspicious restlessness on the one part or the other — 
 and you leave children a prey to all the evils which 
 could not fail to ensue from the relaxation and fragility 
 of the bonds by which they stand related to their pa- 
 rents. And then, who that knows aught of the comfort 
 which it brings, would think of resigning the privacy of 
 home, in exchange for a domestic condition which has not 
 less publicity than a hamlet or a village : — 500 or '2000 
 individuals living together under one roof and the same 
 domestic arrangements, give one the idea ratlior of a 
 regiment, a camp, a poorhouse, than tbat of a family. 
 And except the perfection had been attained of which I 
 have spoken — and the absurdity of tlie expectation of 
 which is too great to require serious argumeht, — except 
 perfection were attained, what, at the best, could the 
 moral condition of such a canton be, but a scene of di- 
 yersified, and, therefore, of more or less conflicting 
 tastes, wishes, tempers, enjoyments, and pursuits ? 
 Now, when you are tired, annoyed, or harassed by the 
 
163 
 
 world, by caprice or passion, by the bad dispositions or 
 the infirmities of your associates, you have a retreat in 
 your own home ; and by your own fireside, and in the 
 confidence of indissoluble affection, can find comfort, 
 satisfaction, and support. Take away the privacy of our 
 homes, you destroy their charm, you destroy their 
 worth. Abolish the perpetuity of the matrimonial tie, 
 you remove all g-round for that entire confidence, that 
 pleased and unquestioning trust, which, in actual cir- 
 cumstances, a Christian couple may, and in numberless 
 cases do, repose in each other. As it is, every Chris- 
 tian home, in the degree in which it is Christian, fur- 
 nishes the most rational and solid delights — the most 
 refining and elevatmg influences — the best school for 
 the cultivation of patience, forbearance, long-suffering, 
 gentleness, truth. What more heroic, yet what so 
 tender, as the love of a Christian mother ? What more 
 chivalrous, and what more steady, than the devotion of 
 a Christian husband ? — \vh at dearer tie on earth, what 
 more pure, than that which binds the Christian father 
 with his daughter ? And what so sweetens toil — what 
 makes every needful sacrifice seem light — what brighter 
 visions delight a father's heart — than the sight of his 
 happy children, — their fond embrace in his own home — 
 their glad welcome on his return from labor or care — 
 their growing virtues, the promise they give of rising 
 to useful and happy maturity ? And a sacred gladness 
 there is in the thought, which cannot even be ima- 
 gined by those who would have the bond to be as frail 
 as tow, — in the thought, that when the sight grows dim, 
 and the ear dull, and even the grasshopper is a burden — 
 when the sands of existence have ebbed to their last, 
 and the parent waits for his final dismissal, — that then 
 will the same arm which sustained her from youth, sus- 
 tain the wife and mother still, and none but her own boy's 
 
164 
 
 hands perform the pious office of smoothing her last 
 pillow. Nor here is the termination of these cherished con- 
 nexions. The bonds which religion has sanctified are 
 sundered but in appearance; and father, mother, and child 
 will resume their intercourse where affection is without 
 alloy, and the bond of kindred minds remains unbroken. 
 Were this even a theory and a vision, it would be not 
 only far more acceptable to the heart, but far more use- 
 ful and ennobling', than the low and disorganising 
 theory which you expound. But as it is a hope and an 
 assurance which Jesus has given and God ratified, and 
 human nature welcomed and cherished, you must not 
 be surprised if Christian families cling to it, and trans- 
 mit it from fathers to sons as their best and holiest 
 heritage. 
 
 I have too nnich respect for my audience, and too 
 much respect for myself — to those feelings which this 
 reference to the endearing bonds of Christian love has 
 aroused — to enter into a particular examination of the 
 distinct charges which Socialism has brought against the 
 farttilies of our land ; nor less to undertake the express 
 exposure of the revolting plans which it has been hardy 
 enough to propose. There is a less displeasing, I hope 
 as useful a course before me ; and for Socialists thom- 
 selvcs there is a more excellent way than tbat which 
 they now pursue, in promulgating ideas which confessedly 
 neither they nor theirs can carry into practice. It is 
 simply this — make the best you can of the good which 
 you have in possession. Consider your homes each as a 
 little garden-plot, which it is your duty and your interest 
 to till and make productive in the highest possible degree. 
 
 Some, perhaps, may have the reply rise in thoir 
 minds, that it is a barren soil, or over-run with weeds, 
 if it is so — why ^ Is no part of the evil chargeable on 
 vour own neglect "^ Well may the return of tlit- husband 
 
165 
 
 home be late and unwilling, if the wife is neglectful of 
 her womanly and motherly duties ; if she is uncareful to 
 have the hearth quiet, and clean, and bright ; and if, 
 instead of offering a ready and cheerful welcome, she 
 presents a lowering countenance, and is voluble with 
 words of anger and reproach. Rarely, however, will 
 she so far sink below the instincts of her nature, unless 
 she has first.been degraded by her husband. I am fully 
 aware, and I deeply lament the fact, that the education 
 of the females of the working classes especially, has 
 been most defective. Still the heart of her who is a 
 wife and mother has a fund of goodness and kindness in 
 it, which nothing but most blameworthy conduct on the 
 part of her husband can entirely and permanently 
 destroy. And great as I hold the wrong to be of which, 
 in some instances, mothers are guilty, I am of opinion 
 that the chief cause of domestic discomfort is found on 
 the part of the father. I wish I could induce even but 
 one Socialist to put my opinion to the test of experiment, 
 — harm there could not be in the trial — good, I am sure, 
 must ensue. Let him show the attention and the kind- 
 ness which he expects. Let him devote, steadily and in 
 good earnest, his best efforts to the improvement of his 
 own home, but for one year, and if he reap no fruit, I 
 will then allow that the tree is barren ; and time enough 
 will it be, after the trial, to yield to his Socialist theory, 
 and cut it down as a cumberer of the ground. But I 
 have no fear of such a result. His efforts will be repaid, 
 if in nothing else, yet in the love and improvement of 
 his children, and the general increase of the comforts of 
 his home. 
 
 There are two great leading faults which stand in 
 the way of the course I recommend; and they attach to 
 persons of very different characters. One plentiful 
 source of domestic unhappiness is found in the intel- 
 
166 
 
 loctual, if not moral inequality, which subsists between 
 husband and wife. When the union first took place, 
 they were, on the whole, nearly on a par. The husband, 
 however, possessing- strong intellectual aptitudes, pursues 
 his own improvement and rises to the enjoyment of 
 intellectual pleasures. Meanwhile the mother has, of 
 necessity, among the working- classes, been exclusively 
 engaged in tlie absorbing duties of her household. 
 Early and lute, she has been obliged to toil, to eat the 
 bread of carefulness, and to contrive, in every way, nor 
 least by her own ceaseless industry and self-denial, to 
 make her small resources meet the continually growing 
 wants of the family. What time or energy has she had for 
 the cultivation of her mind ? What wonder if her toils, 
 and pains, and cares, should have disturbed her temper? 
 Thus those who were once near, arc now most distant, 
 intellectually, one from another? Rut is it towards a 
 being who has thus labored and suffered, that a husband 
 can be justified in encouraging, or even tolerating, a 
 feeling of alienation ? Is there no blame to him, that 
 he has not striven to carry her, in some degree, along 
 with him, in the path of self-cultivation? And can he 
 now consider himself in the way of duty, if he does not 
 pause, and try to n»ake amends for past omissions ? 
 Kind, gentle, and persevering efforts can never fail. 
 Even if they do not enlighten, they will soften and 
 refine. Let the husband be less selfish in his pleasures, 
 less solitary in his recrer.tions, more alive to the claims 
 which his partner has on his hours of relaxation, and he 
 will soon find that no small portion of the charm wifl 
 return, which briglitcnod the days of his early and yet 
 unsullied attachment. 
 
 A far loss hopeful case is that of those who have 
 given way toiiabits of intemperance. Evil, alas ! is but 
 too prolific ; and when the husband has so far lost the 
 
167 
 
 feelings of a man, as to allow himself in guilty pleasures, 
 he too often meets with a terrible reward in the guilt 
 and misery of his cottage. Yet, even in these instances 
 — such is the essential worth of woman's heart, there 
 are no few mothers, who only strive the more to secure 
 the happiness of their family. Nor is there a nobler 
 spectacle than a mother presents, who, with an abandoned 
 husband, still struggles to keep her first love, to bear 
 and forbear, to put the best construction and the best 
 appearance on adverse circumstances, and to shield her 
 children from the consequences of the father's misdeeds. 
 Her's is the best influence, perhaps the only influence, 
 to win him back to virtue and peace ; and she has the 
 merit of nobly performing what I recommend, and labors 
 to make the most of the resources for happiness which 
 lie around her. 
 
 Would that all mothers so circumstanced were en- 
 dowed with similar dispositions, and dignified by similar 
 virtues. But when the reverse is the case, still let not 
 the husband think he has a right to complain, till he has 
 not only reformed himself, but taken assiduous pains to 
 blot out the consequences of his own folly. And were 
 he in earnest in seeking his own highest good, and the 
 highest good of those whom he is bound, by every con- 
 sideration, to protect, cherish, and improve, he w^ould 
 act far more consistently, and far more usefully, by 
 turning his chief attention to the cultivation of his own 
 home, rather than pursuing the airy and vanishing 
 castles of any Socialist or political architect. At all 
 events, no man, whether in himself virtuous or vicious, 
 has any right to deal severely with our present domestic 
 arrangements, till he has put it fairly to the trial by his 
 own conduct, whether or not it is in his power to 
 make, even as things are, one happy home. Nor so 
 long as he allows himself to be drawn away from his 
 
168 
 
 primary duty, can he have any reason to hope that 
 he will succeed in convincing those who themselves 
 possess a happy home — that first of earthly blessings — 
 that a thorough change, nay, an utter subversion, of all 
 our ideas, plans, and hopes, is indispensably requisite. 
 When the good, the kind, the attentive, fail to find 
 their homes happy — when Christian principles and 
 Christian affections are proved by fact to be powerless 
 to impart domestic happiness — then will it be time 
 enough for us to think of changes. But even then, nor 
 $0 long as the human heart is not thoroughly corrupt, 
 will the discreditable ideas of Socialism meet, in the 
 bulk of society, with any other feeling than that of 
 aversion. 
 
LECTURE VIII. 
 
 However grateful and salutary it may be to the Christian 
 to dwell in contemplation on the numerous and powerful 
 claims which Jesus Christ prefers to his love and reve- 
 rence, yet he cannot but deeply regret, that after so wise 
 and benevolent a character has been before the world for 
 nearly two thousand years, it should still be necessary 
 to maintain these claims in the way even of enforce- 
 ment, much less of polemical proof. The necessity, 
 however, of the task imperatively arises from the pain- 
 ful fact, that even in what is called a Christian country, 
 there are very many who have scarcely any sympathies 
 with his character, and some who are daring enough to 
 depreciate and impeach it. 
 
 The reason of this indifference or hostility may in part 
 be found in the dulness, and in some instances, the in- 
 sensibility of the human heart to the purer and finer 
 sentiments of religious excellence. Wherever the infe- 
 rior passions of humanity have had the chief influence in 
 the formation of the character, we can expect no other 
 result than an inability to perceive and appreciate what 
 is refined, exalted, and holy. Partly, however, and in 
 no small degree, does this indifference or antipathy re- 
 sult from the lamentable inconsistencies, and, compared 
 with that of their master, the low tone of morality of 
 Christian professors themselves. The judgments of 
 most men are superficial ; and when a mind which cir- 
 cumstances have inclined to unbelief, adverts to the lives 
 of those who call themselves the disciples of Christ, and 
 finds them, in many cases, but little superior to the lives 
 of others, in some instances even worse, it but too easily 
 contracts a general feeling of aversion which prompts it 
 to disallow religion altogether, and to brand it as a 
 
 p 
 
170 
 
 cunningly-devised fable. The impropriety of so rash 
 and sweeping a conclusion, has been again and again suc- 
 cessfully exposed. Still, however, is the influence not 
 only tolerated but fostered. But there is a mode of 
 argument, which, in most cases, would prove effectual — 
 a mode difficult, indeed, of adoption, yet possessing im- 
 perative claims on every one who would see the spirit 
 of Jesus welcomed and honored in the hearts and lives 
 of those who now disown him. Let Christians be 
 Christians indeed, let them be faithful to their trust 
 and their principles ; let them be noticeable for the 
 gentleness, meekness, and active benevolence of their 
 characters ; thus, let Christ, instead of being crucified 
 afresh, be continually exhibited and silently preached 
 to the world, and the result would be the speedy sub- 
 jugation of all the strongholds of actual infidelity, and 
 men would be even unconsciously won to the truth and 
 spirit of gospel purity. And why, my Christian brother, 
 do you think that the evils of scepticism are permitted, 
 but to arouse the Christian world to a sense of their 
 duty, to make them aware of the value of their principles, 
 and true to the requirements which they impose. It is 
 comparatively of little use that we profess and incul- 
 cate, except we practise, the wide, tender, and self-deny- 
 ing benevolence of Christ. One act of pure philanthropy 
 will bo of more avail than any exposition whatever of 
 the claims of Christ to love and reverence. And you, 
 I have no doubt, feel with me, when you survey the 
 actual condition of tliousands of our fellow-countrymen, 
 that the Christian church, in general, has not proved 
 faithful to the mission with which it is entrusted ; and 
 when you come to learn that the baneful system, which 
 in these lectures I have been occupied in confuting, 
 finds the chief basis of its support in social evils, whose 
 existence cannot be denied, and ought not to be palli- 
 ated, you will also feel that the lesson which we should 
 find in these unhappy circumstances, is to apply our 
 own energies with steady and devoted perseverance to 
 
171 
 
 the performance of our Christian duties, in judicious 
 endeavours to enlighten and inform the ignorant, the 
 erring, and the vicious. 
 
 It must, however, be also admitted, that the anti- 
 Christian spirit of which I have spoken, owes much of 
 its prevalence to the circumstance, that it is not a mere 
 vague admission to the claims of Jesus that is required, 
 but the surrender of the heart. It might at first sight 
 appear strange, that the excellence of Jesus should re- 
 quire proof and enforcement, any more than the virtues 
 of Titus or Howard. But remember, the latter may be 
 allowed, without any corresponding change of character. 
 The state of mind which such an allowance requires, 
 is a mere assent, a yielding of the intellect to an histori- 
 cal fact. But such an admission is morally inoperative, 
 and will not satisfy the demands of religion. The great 
 aim of Jesus was to renew the human soul : and there- 
 fore his character, which is the great means to that 
 great end, must be transfused into our own. It is by 
 no means enough to call him, ' Lord, Lord,' we must 
 also do the things which he commanded. It is the pos- 
 session of his spirit which constitutes the true, the only 
 sufficient test of discipleship. This is the work, this 
 the labor, and this also the difficulty. An historical 
 faith is, in regard to the great work of religion, no faith 
 at all. It is only the first step towards the temple of 
 Christ, to acknowledge that he was an eminently good 
 and pious man ; — a step not, indeed, to be despised, but 
 of value, chiefly, so far as it leads the disciple into the 
 holy of holies of the Christian life. There is, therefore, 
 a vast diiference between the admission of the virtues of 
 others, and the felt and practical acknowledgment of the 
 claims of Jesus to love and reverence. The first is easy, 
 the second is the labor of a life. Multitudes may yield 
 the first, who, in their actual condition, are wholly inca- 
 pable of the second. And a feeling of their inability 
 perhaps an unrecognised, if not unconscious feeling of 
 their inability, may but too readily lead them to the 
 
172 
 
 entire renunciation of religion. But the human heart 
 is prone to self-justification, and he who has gone so far 
 as to disown, is easily prompted to depreciate Christ. 
 There is but one step, frequently, from denial to vitu- 
 peration. If, however, by any legitimate means within 
 our power, we can reverse the process ; if we can turn 
 but one person out of the broad way, which leadeth to 
 destruction, and set him on the narrow road which 
 leadeth unto life ; if we can induce the unbeliever to 
 admit the pre-eminent excellence, the claims to love 
 and reverence of Jesus Christ, we are under the most 
 sacred obligations to employ our ability ; and although 
 we may not thus make him a Christian — that must be 
 his own work — yet it is something to have turned his 
 face toward Zion, and to have planted in his mind an 
 acknowledgment of the worth of the character of our 
 Lord. That acknowledgment, once there, may, under 
 the blessing of our heavenly Father, work and operate 
 in secrecy, till it has made its possessor a child of God 
 and an heir of eternal life. It is under this conviction 
 that 1 now ask attention to the subject of the claims of 
 Jesus to love and reverence; and shall, in my concluding 
 lecture, address myself to a consideration of the benefi- 
 cial influence which Christianity has actually exerted 
 on the world. For both topics I am deeply penetrated 
 with a sense of my insutliciency ; but I have no alterna- 
 tive^ for 1 should think I had left undone the better half 
 of my duty, did I not, while I expose error, do what in 
 rae lies to expound truth, and to offer to the misguided, 
 the option of something less chimerical and more bene- 
 ficial than the system they uphold, and the illusions of 
 which they are in pursuit. 
 
 It may not, impossibly, prepare the way for the more 
 direct exposition of some of the claims of Jesus Christ 
 to love and reverence, if I first show that avowed Chris- 
 tians are not alone in the opinion which they entertain 
 of the excellence of his character. There are admissions 
 on the part of the enemies of his religion which go to a 
 
173 
 
 considerable length, and from which, with no great ex- 
 penditure of time or argument, we may evince the ne- 
 cessity of other admissions which would lead to the re- 
 cognition of him as the Christ of God. I could easily 
 adduce the testimony of men of his own day, who did 
 not enter his fold, the direct and the indirect evidence 
 of tlie common people and the authorities of the land of 
 Judaea. I could summon before you, as witnesses in my 
 case, some of the bitterest enemies whom Christianity 
 had to withstand in the early periods of its history. I 
 could cite the spontaneous declarations of many modern 
 unbelievers ; but the full presentation of this evidence 
 would detain me too long away from the great merits of 
 the case. Let it, therefore , suffice to name Lucian, Chubb, 
 Rousseau, Paine, and Shelley,* as persons who have 
 more or less distinctly concurred, not only with Pilate, ' I 
 find no fault with this man,' but also with the centurion at 
 the cross, * Verily, this was a righteous man;' while in ad- 
 dition to these more commonly known authorities, I ad- 
 duce one or two, at once sufficient in themselves, and pro- 
 bably not so easy of access. Lequinio speaks of Jesus 
 as * one who was actuated by the most sincere good-will 
 to all the human race, teaching the great principles of 
 moral equity and the purest patriotism ; braving all dan- 
 gers, opposing the great, despising alike glory and for- 
 tune, equally temperate with respect to himself, benefi- 
 cent to others, and sympathising with all ; hated by the 
 powerful whom he provoked, persecuted by the intrigu- 
 ing, whose artifices he exposed, and put to death by a 
 blind and deceived multitude, for whom he had always 
 lived. This generous philanthropist, (he concludes,) who 
 wholly sacrificed himself to the public good, who gave 
 his whole existence to the unhappy and even to his per- 
 secutors, never lied but to teach virtue. 'f The autho- 
 rities whofpresided over the compilation and the issue of 
 the French Ejict/clopedie, which has been termed ' the 
 
 * See ' Christianity Unassailable,' by J. R. Beard, pp. 123, 134, &c. 
 t Prejuges Detruits. 
 
 p2 
 
174 
 
 Bible of infidelity,' will not be suspected of any undue 
 bias in favour of Christianity ; the ensuing passage, how- 
 ever, I find in the work under the article ' Christ :' 
 
 * The legislator of the Christians, animated by a spirit 
 far different from that of all the legislators of whom I 
 have spoken, began by destroying the errors which tyran- 
 nously ruled the world, in order to render his religion 
 more useful. In giving to it for its primary object the 
 happiness of another life, he wished also that it should 
 be the cause of our happiness in this. On the ruin of 
 idols, whose superstitious worship entailed a thousand 
 disorders, he founded Christianity, which adores, in spi- 
 rit and in truth, one sole God, the just remunerator of 
 virtue. He established, in its primitive splendor, the 
 law of nature, which the passions had obscured ; he re- 
 vealed to men a morality till then unknown in other 
 religions ; lie engraved on the human spirit that deep 
 humility which destroys and annihilates all the resources 
 of self-love, by pursuing it into the most hidden folds 
 of the soul ; he did not enclose the pardon of injuries in 
 a stoical indifference, which is only a proud contempt 
 of the person who has inflicted them, but he carried it 
 out even to the love of our most cruel enemies ; he placed 
 continence under the guard of the most austere chastity, 
 in obliging it to keep even the eye under restraint ; he 
 ordered us to ally modesty with the rarest talents; be 
 repressed crime by a judicious severity over even the 
 tlioughts, in order to prevent it from manifesting itself 
 in the outward life ; he brought back marriage to its pri- 
 mitive institution, in forbidding polygamy ; he had in 
 view the eternity of that sacred bond, in proscribing re- 
 pudiation.' 
 
 I have collected the following testimony from the 
 writings of Voltaire : — ' We reverence in b.im an Israeli- 
 tish theist, as we praise Socrates, who was an Athenian 
 theist. If you take away from the gospels all tliat is 
 foreign to Jesus, all that has at different times been 
 ascribed to him in the midst of the most scandalous 
 
175 
 
 disputes, and of councils which anathematised each other, 
 what remains? A worshipper of God who taught virtue, 
 an enemy of the Pharisees, a just man, a theist, whose 
 religion embraces all the universe at all times, and which, 
 consequently, is the only true one.'* 
 
 * He instituted neither cardinals, nor pope, nor inquisi- 
 tors ; he had no one burnt ; he enjoined only the obser- 
 vance of the law, the love of God and one's neighbour, 'f 
 
 * Jesus was not a superstitious person ; he was not 
 intolerant ; he had intercourse with the Samaritans. 
 Let us imitate his indulgence, and deserve to have in- 
 dulgence showed to us.'| 
 
 ' Jesus adored one God, and we adore him. He 
 despised vain ceremonies, and we despise them.'§ 
 
 ' You know better than I, what a fatal contrast every 
 age has seen, between the humility of Jesus and the 
 pride of those who have adorned themselves with his 
 name ; between their avarice and his poverty, between 
 their debauchery and his chastity, between his meekness 
 and their sanguinary tyranny.' ' Of all the speeches of 
 Jesus, I avow, that nothing has made more impression 
 on me, than what he replied to those who had the 
 brutality to strike him before he was conducted to death. 
 *' If I have said evil, bear witness of the evil, and if 1 have 
 said well, why strike ye me?" This is the reply which 
 should have been made to all persecutors.' || 
 
 * Jesus was persecuted ; whoever shall think as he, 
 will be persecuted as he. He was a good man, who, 
 born in poverty, spoke to the poor against the super- 
 stition of the rich Pharisees and insolent priests. 'H 
 
 * Jesus was more than a Jew, he was a man ; he 
 embraced all the world in his charity. Look at the 
 
 * Profession dufoi des Theistes. 
 
 •f" Sermon du Rabbin Akab. 
 
 X Homilie sur la Superstition. 
 
 § Homilie sur V interpretation du Nouveau Testameni. 
 
 H Idem. 
 
 ^Idem. 
 
176 
 
 beautiful parable of the good Samaritan. This is 
 the doctrine, this the morahty, this the religion of 
 Jesus.'* 
 
 Let us sum up the qualities which are here attested by 
 the unwilling voice of unbelief. According to the attes- 
 tation, Jesus was a generous philanthropist, a distin- 
 guished moralist, a self-devoting reformer, a pure patriot ; 
 an enemy only of error, hypocrisy, fraud, superstition, 
 priestcraft; he taught the worship of one God, and the 
 love of humanity; he practised justice, tolerance, general 
 benevolence, humility, forbearance; he meekly endured 
 poverty, persecution, and death, in his righteous efforts 
 to enlighten and improve his fellow-countrymen. 
 
 Now, if this testimony of unbelief is worthy of trust, 
 I cannot see how the claims of Jesus to love and reve- 
 rence can be denied. Go over the import of these 
 passages in your minds, and ask yourselves whether he 
 of whom this is true — he who thus taught, lived, and 
 died— does not deserve to be ranked among the best be- 
 nefactors of mankind, and is not worthy to have his me- 
 mory enshrined in tlie heart of every good aud benevo- 
 lent man. Say nothing of his purely religious charac- 
 ter, put it for a moment out of your thoughts, and then 
 tell me if his mere earthly virtues are not such as to 
 merit and excite your warm and affectionate admiration. 
 Admit this — as admit it you nmst, or deny the credibi- 
 lity of history — and then how can you stop here ? — how 
 can you refuse to go forward to the admission of his 
 claim to a divine mission ^ But tliis claim, I presume, 
 is the lie of which Lcquinio speaks, when he says that 
 Jesus * nevor lied except to teach virtue.' What a 
 monstrous assertion is this ! What a striking and pain- 
 ful evidence have we here of the force of prejudice— of 
 the perverting influence of a foregone conclusion — of 
 the depravating power of a spirit of scepticism ! Who 
 but one in whose mind the distinction between right and 
 
 • Ilomilk du PcuUur Bourn. 
 
177 
 
 wrong had been in some way darkened and defaced, 
 could have in the same breath proclaimed the excellence 
 of the person to whom he broadly imputes the debasing 
 practice of falsehood ? In reality, however, some such 
 vain imagination as this possesses the mind of most un- 
 believers, who, at the same time that they admit the 
 virtue of our Lord's character, are prevented from be- 
 coming his docile disciples by the idea, that so far as 
 his religion was concerned, Jesus practised an imposi- 
 tion. Were this, however, the fact, the features of 
 truth, honesty, and sincerity of which they speak, could 
 not have stood out, as they now do, in bold relief — could 
 not have been exhibited, in the utmost consistency and 
 without one single exception, in circumstances themostdi- 
 verse, in junctures the most perilous, and amid desertion, 
 treachery, ignominy, and death. Nor is it possible to 
 suppose that Jesus would have possessed the moral cou- 
 rage, the unquailing and unvarying strength of character, 
 which carried him through the very incidents, from his 
 bearing in which the existence of his admitted virtues is 
 deduced, and led him, in a high moral triumph, through 
 the long and bitter train of sufferings which injustice, 
 brute force, and prostituted legal authority inflicted on 
 him. The practice of deception leaves consequences in 
 the heart and life, too many and too obvious to escape 
 the eye. And especially in the hour of trial and endu- 
 rance — when life is at stake, or may he purchased by 
 confession — can it be easy to avoid the betrayal of some 
 symptoms of the baseness of the heart, if only in hesita- 
 tion as to your course, and a momentary quailing before 
 the just avengers of your crime. In a crisis, however, 
 not less severe than this, Jesus remained true to him- 
 self, true to his professions, nay, practised, if even he 
 did not exceed, the very patience, equanimity, gentle- 
 ness, and placability which he had inculcated in the 
 calmer moments of his life. I see not, for myself, how 
 the conclusion c'an be resisted, that, as he was faithful 
 unto death, even the death of the cross, so was he pre- 
 
178 
 
 eminently, and in every particular, an honest and a 
 righteous man, true in thought and feeling as well as in 
 action. If so, then he neither asserted without reason, 
 nor believed without sufficient evidence, that he came 
 from God. This inference you must make, or allow 
 that of all impostors he was the greatest, for who like 
 him ever inculcated the virtue of sincerity ? — who was 
 ever more severe in the denunciation of hypocrisy ? — 
 who ever laid an equally distinct and an equally high 
 claim to the special favor, presence, and aid of the 
 Deity ? And who, with any approach to his practice, 
 had the name of the God of truth so constantly on his 
 lips, or professed so habitually to be entrusted with his 
 delegated power ? It is the idlest inconsistency to ad- 
 mit the excellence of Christ at the very time you charge 
 him with falsehood ; and to my mind, the inconsistency 
 is scarcely less, if, in conjunction with that admission, 
 you deny his claims to a divine commission, and to su- 
 pernatural aid. The features which constitute his cha- 
 riicter — the incidents whence those features are deduced, 
 or in which they are plainly exhibited — are all so inti- 
 mately blended with the train of miraculous operation 
 through which he went, as to admit of no severance the 
 one from the other, — as they exist, so must they stand 
 or fall together. You may as well think of removing 
 the warp from the woof without destroying the cloth, or 
 of resolving water into its constituent gases, and yet 
 preserve its essential qualities, as of separating the 
 supernatural from the natural in the history of Christ, 
 so as to leave his mere human character in possession of 
 its acknowledged virtues. I would, then, that the un- 
 believer should be consistent ; — let him cither deny the 
 existence or disown the excellencies of our Lord ; or if 
 the hardihood of this invasion of history is too great for 
 him, then, in admitting the virtues of Jesus, lot him 
 not think of rejecting the divinity of his mission. The 
 authority which assures us he was holy, harmless, and 
 undefiled, assures also, not merely in word but in fact, 
 
179 
 
 but in implications which are stronger than assertions, 
 but in incidents that are inwoven with the very texture 
 of his history, that he was sent of God. 
 
 We will not, however, rest satisfied with the direct 
 admissions of unbelievers. Jesus has left a memorial of 
 himself in the mind of the world. You want to know 
 what Christ was; look around, look within. His image, 
 marred it may be, but not robbed of its essential features, 
 exists in the apprehensions of all civilised nations. It 
 is so, more or less, in the case of all the distinguished 
 men of former days — only, that the Xhrone of the image 
 of Christ is the heart of humanity, while others have 
 impressed an idea of themselves but on one or more of its 
 portions. When you think of Caesar, the thought of a 
 distinguished warrior arises in your mind. Demosthenes 
 is, with you, the model of perfect eloquence. ' What 
 think ye of Christ ? ' What image of himself has he 
 left graven on the tablets of men's minds ? Is it not the 
 image of perfect goodness, tender benevolence, heroic 
 self-devotion, gentleness and truth ? Take a little child 
 whose acquaintance wath Jesus has been solely in the 
 narratives of the Gospel histories ; no infusion of the 
 prejudices of the w^orld, no indoctrinating with the chaff 
 of human opinions ; — what is its idea of Christ ? A con- 
 ception of a loving, kind-hearted, and suffering son of 
 man. This idea of Jesus is universal ; whatever opinions 
 may be entertained of his nature, of his mission, of his 
 sacrifice, of the extent of his mediatorial influence, — 
 amid all the varieties of belief on these and other points, 
 the one central conception, the idea of Jesus — that idea 
 which is never lost, with whatever ' hay, straw, and 
 stubble' it may be mixed and obscured — the idea of 
 Jesus is that of the man of sorrows, and the friend of 
 humanity. And is not such an idea worthy to be enter- 
 tained in every breast with love and reverence ? Were 
 it hut an idea — could we not trace up the conception to 
 its original — what good man, what father of a family, 
 what philanthropist would wish to obliterate it ? But 
 
180 
 
 whence the idea ? A portrait points to a living subject. 
 A conception we first analyse into its elements, and 
 then seek their origin. Whence, then, the idea of 
 Christ? An origin it must have had. Say that our 
 accounts are not true ; — what do you gain by the denial ? 
 The idea is in the world, cannot be erased, and must be 
 accounted for. If it be an invention, he who invented 
 it must have felt the qualities which he put together 
 with a truth to nature never surpassed. He, therefore, 
 was the Christ. He drew his own portrait, and proved 
 himself thereby one of the greatest benefactors of his 
 race. The notion of a mere invention, of a pure fabri- 
 cation, will not for a moment be entertained by a com- 
 petent judge. The image of Jesus is obviously from the 
 life. A life like his, then, there once must have been ; 
 and you do but raise a passing cloud, when you affirm 
 that the gospel histories do not assign the true origin of 
 the idea of Jesus Christ. Or should you resort to the 
 most improbable of all suppositions, that this idea is the 
 work not of one mind but of many — the complex con- 
 ception of perfect excellence, of which the outline was 
 sketched by one artist of old, and which a thousand hands 
 had since concurred to work into its actual beauty and 
 sublimity, — should you advance this position, who that 
 knows any thing of the history of man, or the mode in 
 which a moral portrait — one true in every feature to na- 
 ture — is executed, who would believe you ? However 
 this may be, still you have not got rid of the image itself. 
 Tlie name 'Jesus' remains as the representative of 
 the purest piety to God, and the most generous love to 
 man ; and prefers a claim which I should think would 
 be irresistible to your love and reverence. The greatest 
 obligation which we owe to the past, is in the treasury 
 of sublime thoughts, generous impulses, and pure affec- 
 tions which we have received from it. This is tho best, 
 as it is the great heritage of humanity. Among these, 
 why single out the idea of Christ for reprobation and 
 proscription? Who would bo so infatuated, that knew 
 
181 
 
 wherein lie the highest interests of his race, his family, 
 and himself ? Would you strip the earth of the lovely 
 associations with which many of its spots are covered ? 
 Would you lose the pleasing memories of your boyish 
 days, and the haunts of your childhood? Would you 
 be content to part with the feelings which make your 
 country dear to you ? Would there be any good in the 
 ability to look on the heavens and the regions of bound- 
 less space with the bare and dreary eye of a heartless 
 science ? Even the severest astronomer has his poetry, 
 otherwise he would never have earned his distinction. 
 But none of these losses would prove so great, so detri- 
 mental, so withering, as the loss of the sense of moral 
 beauty. The great Bacon has somewhere said, that he 
 would rather believe all the fables of antiquity, than 
 hold that the universe was without a creating and pre- 
 siding mind. It is the remark of one who had sounded 
 the depths of the human heart, knew what were its 
 wants, and what its best instructors and guides. And 
 so will every one say who is not dead to the value of 
 ideas of moral grandeur; — 'I would rather part with 
 every grateful association I have with midnight or mid- 
 day, the morning and the eventide, with hill and forest 
 and vale, with the ocean and the streamlet, than lose 
 from my mind one feature of that excellence and perfec- 
 tion of character which I connect with the idea of Jesus 
 Christ.' A circumstance is on record which will serve 
 to show how deep a feeling of reverence is associated 
 with the idea of our Lord, even by persons who would 
 prefer the distinctions which literature confers to the 
 honour of being called by the name of Christ. A com- 
 pany of eminent authors of the last generation were dis- 
 coursing with each other on the personages whom they 
 would wish to have seen, when one of them, with a suf- 
 fused eye and quivering lip, stammered out a reference to 
 a name which he could not utter, and said — ' If Shakspeare 
 were to come into the room, we should all rise to meet 
 
182 
 
 him ; but if that person were to come into it, we should 
 all fall down, and try to kiss the hem of his garment.** 
 For the elements of which the general idea of Jesus 
 consists, I have appealed to the general apprehen- 
 sions of civilised society; I might appeal, not without 
 some success, to the minds of Socialists themselves. 
 Labour as they may have done to put away the concep- 
 tion, they still retain fragments of it enough to show 
 how morally sublime the image itself is. Whence do 
 they borrow the terms which, of all others, they judge 
 most competent to express their sense of the worth of 
 their system, and of its originator? The Christian 
 cannot do otherwise than feel that these terms are dese- 
 crated by their application ; but forgetting this evil for 
 a moment, he will find that the enemies of Christ are 
 of a necessity, however unthinkingly, compelled to admit 
 in fact, the peerless excellence of Jesus Christ: thus 
 Mr. Owen, in a spirit of adulation which savours little 
 of rationality, is designated ' the Social Saviour,' * tlie 
 true Saviour of man,' and community is ' a paradise.' 
 Why is the term * Saviour' thus employed, but because it 
 stands for what is highest and best in human character ? 
 No word brings with it associations so comprehensive, 
 so inviting, so endearing ; and on this account it is 
 abused by this gross misapplication. And what, too, is 
 there but a tacit admission of the superiority of the 
 morality of Christ, in the charge of hypocrisy which 
 Socialists are wont to level against all his followers ? 
 It will not be pretended that, taking Christians as a 
 whole, they are worse than other men; worse citizens — 
 Avorse fathers — worse children. But Socialism judges 
 them by their own standard ; that is high ; — they do 
 not excel their fellow-men, therefore they are hypocrites. 
 The implication that the Christian standard of morality 
 is high, is thus inevitable. But that standard, so far &• 
 
 ♦ HaiUtt's Literary Remains, vol. 2., p. 357. 
 
it is correct, is only the complex idea of the character 
 of Christ. You thus admit its superiority ; you are 
 found confessing the excellence of Christ. Would that 
 you would yield your hearts to its influence, — that you 
 would cherish the love and reverence which the idea 
 of him justly claims. 
 
 But, for a moment, go with me in thought to the 
 land of Judaea, and contemplate the character of Jesus 
 Christ. What do you see^ You are in the midst of a 
 narrow -minded, intolerant, and bigoted people, — a people 
 whose national wickedness had gone up to heaven as a 
 memorial against them, and who are enslaved to worn- 
 out modes of thought, to effete institutions, and to a 
 foreign and a galling yoke. On the banks of a petty 
 lake, in a despised part of this unsocial and narrow 
 tract of country, a voice of the tenderest benignity and 
 the most comprehensive benevolence makes itself heard. 
 It is the voice of a carpenter's son — of a man of imma- 
 ture years, who has enjoyed none of the advantages of 
 a superior education, and to whom the civilisation of 
 Greece and Rome, the wisdom of its sages, the eloquence 
 of its orators, the imaginings of its poets, are as if 
 they were not. Cut off by the accidents of birth and 
 training from the philosophy of his own, or of previous 
 ages, — cut off by the same circumstances from the 
 higher civilisation, such as it was, of his own country, 
 with none of the advantages of family or station, he 
 utters words, which, in a few centuries, give law to the 
 human mind in its then highest condition, and which 
 still exert a supremacy over the most cultivated nations 
 of the earth, and are most prized and cherished by 
 those individuals among them who have reached the 
 highest style of man. How is this ? Perhaps he has 
 spent the morning and the meridian of his days in pro_ 
 found meditation. That would not be an explanation. 
 But the probability is, that he himself had pursued one 
 of the lowliest handicrafts. Can you — I cannot — 
 
184 
 
 account for this unquestionable fact on any mere earthly 
 grounds ? Perhaps he spends a long life in attaining 
 the perfection of his public character ? That is no 
 explanation. But he survived, at the longest, not more 
 than to the end of the third year of his ministry ; and 
 his morality is as pure and wide, his spirit as gentle, 
 forbearing, and affectionate when he first opens his com- 
 mission, as when he ends it on Calvary. Perhaps he 
 conciliates the favour and secures the aid of the wise, 
 the good, thegreatof the land. That is no explanation. 
 But his associates are simple-minded, ignorant, and 
 prejudiced fishers ; and with a boldness and an authority 
 which are inexplicable by any ordinary considerations, 
 he sets his face against the Pharisee, the Sadducee, the 
 Essene, the Priest, and the heathen conqueror. They 
 all, each in his own way, act as his enemies, not his 
 friends ; for he had put their craft in peril : he had 
 assailed the prejudices and smote the ignorance and 
 denounced the wickedness on which they severally sub- 
 sisted. Mis death they therefore compass ; and in 
 the destitute state in which he was, so far as earthly 
 power is concerned, by what means, if God were not 
 with him, did he preserve his life and prolong his 
 ministry to the brief period to which it extended ? The 
 common people, indeed, heard him gladly, but with 
 a fickleness and impetuosity for which, in all ages, they 
 have been but too remarkable, they more than once put 
 even his life in jeopardy, and at last swelled the insane 
 cry, * Crucify him ! crucify him I' Nay, when he in 
 whom wns vested the supremo power of life and death, 
 made an effort to save Jesus from the fury of the rabble, 
 declaring, ' I have found no fault in him ; I am innocent 
 of the blood of this just man ;' — their only answer wns, 
 ' his blood be on us and on our children.' Their cry 
 prevailed ; — Jesus is nailed to the cross. And there, 
 after enduring excruciating pains, how does he repay 
 his enemies ? how does he repay the self-convicted im- 
 
185 
 
 becility of the Roman governor — the indignities of the 
 judgment-hall — the mockings of the soldiers — the taunts 
 of the passing spectator, the scornful derision of the 
 priests and rulers ? * Father, forgive them, they know 
 not what they do!' In this spirit did he die the death 
 of a slave. Thus did his embittered foes consummate 
 their fell design. 
 
 Yet what evil had he done ? Enter into the details 
 of his history. Some of its particulars stand out too 
 prominently to be over-looked, and bear too deeply the 
 impress of eternal truth to be suspected. Towards this 
 same people, who preferred the life of a robber to his, 
 what had been his conduct ? When he saw the multi- 
 tudes scattered as sheep having no shepherd, he had 
 compassion on them, and taught them many things. 
 Towards his own immediate disciples who, in the hour 
 of darkness, all forsook him and fled, what had been hie 
 conduct? He strove to enlighten their darkness, to 
 convey to them a just idea of the spirituality of his king- 
 dom, to invest them with the most honourable function 
 on earth, that of teachers of truth, duty, and benevolence. 
 He bore with their waywardness, softened down their 
 mutual jealousies, promised them a full reward for the 
 sacrifices they had made, and actually gave them — had 
 they known the things which belonged to their peace — 
 the highest reward they could receive, in admission to 
 his own presence — to the sight and benign influence of 
 his example; and with what tender regard he held them 
 in his heart, the concluding hours of his life, as set forth 
 by him who lay in his bosom, and who caught most of 
 his spirit, manifested in the most marked and interesting 
 manner. Then observe the kind embrace with which 
 he welcomed the little children into his presence — the 
 little children whose mothers, with true maternal feeling, 
 — affording the purest evidence of human nature to his 
 claims to love and reverence — eagerly pressed forward 
 through the surrounding crowd ; and whom his uncon- 
 
 q2 
 
186 
 
 genial disciples — presenting an equally true sample of 
 a nature which, in being alien to it, disowns the worth 
 of Christ — had endeavoured to thrust away. And why 
 do the people from all quarters of the land bring the 
 sick and the infirm, to lay them at his feet ? Why do 
 the diseased themselves totter onwards, and imploringly 
 ask his aid ? Why does even heathenism, in the person 
 of the Roman centurion, beseech the exertion of his 
 power on behalf of a slave ? Some report of him must 
 have gone throughout the country, and the condition of 
 the applicants shows the benign character of his ministry. 
 I am not now affirming that his ability to heal was of a 
 miraculous kind. I adduce these instances to exem- 
 plify the idea of him which Judaea had formed — 
 formed within the space of a few brief months ; and at 
 least you must acknowledge that it was that of no 
 insignificant character, the good and generous physician. 
 But this is not all. It is not credible that this movement 
 of the maimed, the halt, the blind, the deaf, the dumb, 
 the insane, and those nigh unto death, could have taken 
 place, had there not been some sufficient ground for the 
 general impression ; and the nature of most of the cures 
 forbids any other supposition than that of divine aid 
 and co-operation. 
 
 I will ask you also to enter with him into the privacies 
 of the domestic circle — to mark the deep reverence nnd 
 confiding afifection which the family of Lazarus enter- 
 tained towards him. Here he appears in the light of a 
 gentle and tender friend. More ; — why, when Lazarus 
 was sick, did his sisters send for Jesus? The hour 
 wlien a beloved brother was on the point of death, was 
 not the time when the heart of a woman could play a 
 part. Yet when he comes near the house, with how 
 entire a trust do they hasten to meet him, and with what 
 undoubting assurance do they express their faith in his 
 power, and implore its exertion, to restore the deceased 
 to life ! Go witli him and tiicin to tlit- tomb where h» 
 
187 
 
 lay, and witness the agony of his spirit at the departure 
 of his friend, and the grief of his loving and bereaved 
 sisters. You may — if such be the perversity of your 
 wills — call this fiction ; but, then, never did fiction so 
 wear the garb of truth and nature, and never did friend- 
 ship appear in so attractive a form. And this I must 
 add, that if, after all, the family of Lazarus knew not 
 Jesus, knew not what were the features of his heart, 
 and what the powers with which he was entrusted of 
 God — if this chapter out of private life is but a delusion, 
 or a base fabrication, we have no criterion by which to 
 distinguish the morally true from the morally false, nor 
 to detennine what those qualities are which have a 
 legitimate claim on the love and reverence of man. 
 
 It was with him — it could not fail to be, a painful 
 consciousness, that the great work he came to effect 
 could not gain a footing in the world — such was the 
 wickedness and perversity of the age — without being the 
 indirect cause of bringing heavy calamities on the land 
 of his birth. He foresavv', in but too distinct outline, 
 the gathering storm which, in a few years, was to deso- 
 late the land, and make its inhabitants cry out to the 
 hills, ' fall on us,' and to the rocks, ' cover us.' This 
 he foresaw — with the hard heart and unmoistened eye 
 of our social reformers? With overflowings of the 
 softest pity. These are his words — when in the midst 
 of severest trial the only eyes that shed a tear over him 
 were ' a great company of women,' women ever true to 
 their nature, and in this case affording no unworthy 
 
 proof of the claims of Jesus to love and reverence these 
 
 were his words— and surely the eloquence of thought 
 and of feeling were never more happily blended — 
 ' Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep 
 for yourselves, and for your children ; for, behold, the 
 days are coming in the which they shall say. Blessed 
 are the barren, and the wombs that never bare, and the 
 paps which never gave suck.' And it was immediately 
 
188 
 
 after he had given utterance to the awful language in 
 which he condemned, with but too merited condemna- 
 tion, the wickedness in high places by which the ruin 
 of his country had been brought about, that his soul, 
 melting into its customary tenderness, prompted the 
 bitter lamentation of wounded patriotism and afflicted 
 benevolence ; — ' O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that 
 killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent 
 unto thee, how often would I have gathered thee together 
 as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and 
 ye would not. Behold, your house is left unto you 
 desolate. For I say unto you, ye shall not see me 
 henceforth till ye shall say. Blessed is he that cometh 
 in the name of the Lord ! ' Now one of these sayings — 
 there are many others — would have preserved in grateful 
 and deathless recollection the memory of any heathen 
 sage ; and from the mere man of literature, from the 
 lover of the sublime in thought, the tender and the 
 natural in feeling, the lover of simple, chastened diction, 
 from any one having a head to think and a heart to feel, 
 it could not fail to conciliate respectful and affectionate 
 regard ; — but to him who follows these outpourings of 
 eloquence to the sentiments whence they sprung, and 
 especially to the Christian, who feels that even they are 
 a manifestation of but a part of the divine emotions of 
 his Saviour, of that love which led him to lay down his 
 life for the world, they prefer a claim which can no 
 more be disowned than the claim of a mother to her 
 infant's love, for some return of gratitude, aflfection, 
 and reverence. 
 
 But instead of following out the more congenial train 
 of remark on which I have now fallen, it may be more 
 serviceable to beg your attention, for a moment, to the 
 patriotic sentiments which Jesus evinced, not only in 
 the last period, but through the whole of his public life. 
 You have a stern dislike of priests, and hence — for one 
 reason — you are led to reject Christianity. Even patrio- 
 
189 
 
 tism has appeared before you in so spurious a shape, 
 that you have learned to feel discomplacent at the word. 
 But form to yourself a correct idea of the relation 
 which Jesus bore to his age and nation, and thereby — in 
 no small degree — to the world at large. He was not a 
 priest. His followers were not priests. He presented 
 the rare, the solitary spectacle of a patriot without guile 
 or error. Jesus was not a friend of existing abuses, nor 
 a palliator of existing injustice, nor a panderer to vulgar 
 errors, nor a seeker of his own fortune in the ignorance 
 and vice of others. He was the great moral reformer 
 of his times, the teacher and friend of the people, the 
 enemy of priestcraft, and every form of spiritual and 
 social corruption. And he paid his life a penalty for 
 the faithfulness with which he executed his arduous 
 office. As he came to bear witness to the truth, and as 
 be could not otherwise have finished his work, so he 
 spared no errors, however honored by time, however 
 hedged round by prejudice or shielded by power; — so 
 also he spared no guilt, under whatever venerable forms it 
 hid itself, or by whatever fearful array it rose in oppo- 
 sition against him. You never find him conciHating 
 error in one rank, in order to gain power for attacking 
 error in another rank ; and above all, you never find 
 him turning to his own defence, much less to his own 
 aggrandisement, any one of the currents of social influ- 
 ence of the nation. God and humanity, truth and duty, 
 were the ideas which swayed his soul, made him nobly 
 forgetful of himself, and ever intent on the full execu- 
 tion of his most heroic task. And yet, there is no 
 assailing on his part of existing institutions. He him- 
 self frequented the temple, whose overthrow he foresaw 
 and predicted. In fact, his methods of reform were, of 
 all others, most effectual. He poured a stream of new 
 ideas into the mind of the nation ; Jie awakened and 
 braced their love of truth ; he promulgated great and 
 
190 
 
 everlasting principles touching man's highest nature and 
 highest interests ; he kindled into vivid existence new 
 and most powerful sympathies, — and then dying, left the 
 result to time and Providence, in the assurance that 
 when the leaven had worked its work, the needful 
 changes would ensue, and that though, in their first ope- 
 ration, these influences would bring sorrow on many, yet 
 would they also re-create the moral life of many more, 
 and eventually prove the regeneration of society, and tho 
 salvation of the world. 1 know not how such a course 
 of conduct may strike your minds, but certainly to me 
 it appears the height of wisdom and the height of bene- 
 volence ; and until I have found another social reformer 
 who, without special aid, has manifested these qualities 
 in an equal degree, I must be allowed to think that in 
 Jesus these are tokens of the finger of God ; nor even 
 then, however great and good the instance maybe, shall 
 I think that Jesus has a less claim to the love and 
 reverence of humanity. 
 
 Could I, however, induce you to lay aside the preju- 
 dices by which, as I fear, your understandings are 
 darkened, and the natural workings of your heart 
 diseased ; — would you but welcome and detain the sea- 
 sons of sober thought, and calm down your breasts from 
 the ajritations wliich existing* social evils, and the reveries 
 of system, have aroused and still 'sustain ; would you 
 take council of your better nature and follow its impulses, 
 I should not despair of convincing you that Jesus has 
 still higher claims than these to your reverential affection. 
 Have you no wants which Socialism, — which no mere 
 system of philosophy — cannot supply ? Is it satisfactory 
 to your heart to believe that the universe is without nn 
 intelligent Creator — society without a Providence — evil 
 without any but a mortal remedy — and death without an 
 issue or a meaning ? Were such the gloomy ideas which 
 crowded on your mind when * life, as opening buds, was 
 
191 
 
 sweet ' ? — when fond and grateful hopes broke forth from 
 your youthful, and yet untarnished heart ? Did you lay 
 your mother or your first-born in the tomb, contented 
 with the idea of their sleeping an eternal sleep ? Was 
 there not a period in your wedded love when a sacredness 
 attached to the ideas and anticipations which it kindled 
 in your minds ? Can you now calmly look on the eye 
 that beams forth affection on yours, and calmly think of 
 the kind heart that throbs more quickly at your approach, 
 and meanwhile reflect that they are but animated clay, 
 and will soon pass from your hearth and your bosom into 
 dreary and everlasting night ? Can you look forward to 
 your own departure out of life, and think of the weeping 
 hearts that will stand around your bed, and of the dark, 
 not to say perilous, venture you are about to make into 
 the mysterious abyss of eternity, and yet feel no shrink- 
 ing of soul under a system which is without hope and 
 without God ; — which, in relation to the wants of our 
 higher nature, is as chilling to the heart, as it is barren 
 to the mind ? And has no misgiving ever crossed your 
 bosom of your own self-sufficiency ; no sense of need 
 for higher and better guidance, than a mind can give 
 which is often dizzy when it is not dark, and a heart 
 whose infirmities the wise feel and lament every day they 
 live ? And then if the cause of the universe is Intelli- 
 gence, and man, therefore, is held answerable to his 
 Maker, can you reflect on the past without a conviction 
 of sin, or look to the future without desiring a hope of 
 pardon ? Think not that these things are the imbecilities 
 of the weak, or the inventions of the fraudulent. The 
 highest natures that have adorned humanity, have 
 experienced the feelings and gladly cast themselves 
 on the guidance and refuge offered by Christ. And 
 would you but use the power you undoubtedly pos- 
 sess, whatever your system may assert to the con- 
 trary, and leaving on one side all the traditions of men. 
 
192 
 
 place yourself without pride of heart, place yourself as a 
 little child at the feet of Jesus, you would ere long 
 experience for yourself somewhat of that high, that 
 priceless good, which makes him the Saviour of all who 
 learn of him and breathe his spirit. The elements of a 
 new life would begin to arise in your bosom. New emo- 
 tions — emotions, as useful as they are benign and grate- 
 ful, would be awakened ; new principles would come into 
 being and gather strength — thence a new power, new 
 hopes, and a brighter and a happier destiny. The moral 
 world would no longer be without a sun. Eternity would 
 cease to be a blank and a dreary void. The pall which 
 darkens over your domestic affections would pass away. 
 And alike for the friend of your bosom, your departed 
 sires, and your cherished, guileless, and happy children, 
 for yourself and your kind, you would have a prospect 
 fraught with eternal good : you would entertain a hope 
 that, in the darkest passage of their life they were under 
 the eye of omnipotent love, and would be wisely and 
 gently conducted tiirough the transient scenes of this 
 feverish state of trial, into ' an inheritance incorniptible 
 and undefiled, and that fadeth not away.' 
 
 And this hope you may lay hold of without the sur- 
 render of one manly feeling, — without bowing the knee 
 to priestcraft, or bending tlie neck to the yoke of creeds. 
 ' Come unto me, all ye that laboui and are heavy laden, 
 and I will give you rest.* You need only to yield your 
 heart to the wisest, the gentlest, tlie most disinterested 
 of teachers, and you will find your wants satisfied, your 
 mind expanded and invigorated, and your breast filled 
 with the moral harmonies of earth and heaven. To 
 whom, then, ' will you go but unto Christ, for he hath 
 the words of eternal life ? ' Can you be content to turn 
 away from him, to a teacher and a system, the very 
 utmost of whose profession is, to make you ' the chief 
 of animals ' ? 
 
LECTURE IX. 
 
 I AM not surprised that Owenism should have set itself 
 ia determined hostility to the Christian religion. If 
 that is true, if there is truth in its fundamental princi- 
 ples, — if, as it teaches, there is a primary Intelligence ; 
 if that Intelligence is the Father and Guardian of the 
 universe ; if Jesus Christ came from him on a message 
 of mercy and love to man ; if man is held responsible 
 for his actions as having power to do justly, to love 
 mercy, and to walk humbly before his Maker ; if the 
 more intimate relations of domestic life are founded on 
 divine ordinations, and partake of the perpetuity of that 
 state for which they were mainly designed to prepare 
 man ; and if the human race are not destined to moulder 
 away as the leaves of autumn, but to rise to another, a 
 renovated and an endless existence, — then is Socialism 
 false ; and so far as any one of these suppositions is the 
 implication of a reality, so far is the ground narrowed 
 on which Socialism has taken its stand. Accordingly, 
 Socialists make it a chief part of their occupation, both 
 by speaking and writing, to bring Christianity into dis- 
 credit and contempt. They have fairly put the issue as 
 between its truth and the truth of Socialism. They 
 have staked the existence of their own system on the 
 destruction of the religion of Jesus Christ. And it is 
 fit that men should know the alternative, and especially 
 that those should know it who may feel any inclination 
 towards their doctrines. Owenism will not permit that 
 you should be at the same time Christians and Socialists. 
 It is a war of extirpation which it wages against every 
 form of Christianity. It denounces it as false, as 
 
194 
 
 having ' been tried for 1800 years and proved futile,'* 
 nay more, as being the csuse ' of most, if not all, the 
 evils which exist in the world. 'f And not only would it 
 wrest Christianity from society by the force of hardy 
 and dogmatical assertions, but in the moral, or rather 
 immoral atmosphere which it creates and throws around 
 all who come within its influence, it seeks to poison, by 
 the contagion of its scornful mockings, all those pure 
 and delicate sympathies v/hich constitute no small part 
 of the gospel life in the soul of man. Most seriously, 
 therefore, does it become every one who has found 
 Christianity a good, to ponder the grave exchange which 
 Socialism proposes; to sit down and soberly count the 
 cost before he passes over into the camp of Socialism ; 
 and it may admit of a doubt whether it is wise in the 
 professed follower of Christ, after he has become ac- 
 quainted with the doctrines, proposals, and spirit which 
 it presents, to venture near the precincts where its 
 influences are dispensed. The least injurious result of 
 even such an approacli would be a waste of time. 
 
 Owenism has itself, as I have intimated — put the 
 issue thus — Christianity is false, and, therefore, Owenism 
 is true; — Owenism is true, and, therefore, Christianity 
 is false. This, it must be admitted, is a bold and 
 chivalrous method of warfare ; but I am mistaken if 
 it is not more rash than safe. It thus lays itself open 
 to a double attack. Prove the religion of Jesus, you 
 disprove Owenism ; — or you may assail Owenism on its 
 own independent grounds. Challenged as one of those 
 Christian ministers, against whom and against whoso 
 teachings it levels its bolts, I have taken it in both its 
 ways of assault, and, so far as the occasion permitted, 
 proved that neither is Christianity false, nor Owenism 
 true. Indeed Owenism, with all its vaunted certainty, 
 
 • Clarke's CUi-ialion Lookinp Glasfl. 
 
 t Book of tH« New Moral Worlil. IRSR. 
 
195 
 
 consists in its fundamental doctrines of a series of pro- 
 positions, each of which de]»ends on the truth of its 
 precursor, so that if you strike away but one link, the 
 whole chain falls shivered to the ground ; yet each suc- 
 cessive link in the chain of argument depends for its 
 certainty on no surer support than the faithfulness of 
 the observation and accuracy of the reasoning, — where 
 reasoning is attempted — of the fabricator of the system; 
 while it is not merely allowed, but boldly proclaimed, 
 hat the apprehensions and convictions of the entire of 
 the civilized world, with a very few exceptions, are 
 in direct and open contrariety to the novelties which he 
 has expounded. Surely, if ever dogmatism was unbe- 
 coming, it is in such a case. But this is only another 
 proof that hardihood of assertion is generally found in 
 the inverse ratio of the goodness of a cause. 
 
 But amid the daring statements on which Owenism 
 has ventured, none exceeds, if any parallel, the declara- 
 tion that the influence of Christianity has been not 
 only nugatory, but purely and universally baneful. And 
 for myself, I am content to let the acceptableness of 
 the religion of Jesus go before any jury of impartial 
 men, on the simple question of the nature of its influence 
 in the world ; only I should require that the panel be 
 impartial. Socialists themselves are not fit to try the 
 case. They are pledged to its condemnation : their 
 verdict is already given and published. Besides, they 
 have, for the most part, succeeded in eradicating- from 
 their breasts those sympathies and charities to which 
 the most advantageous appeal would have to be made * 
 and no few of them must be left to a higher and a more 
 effectual, if also a more painful, species of instruction 
 than any mere human instrumentality can employ — the 
 instruction of Providence in the experience through 
 which it conducts each individual, and those by no means 
 the least, who put the thought of God, duty, and 
 eternity far from them. 
 
196 
 
 The question, however, of the nature of the influence 
 which the religion of Jesus has exerted on the world, 
 may in one view be considered as settled with the great 
 majority of men ; — so far as they have seen, and known, 
 and felt, they have found its influence beneficial. The 
 evidence of its worth is in their own grateful experience. 
 And when you remember that this evidence has come 
 down through nearly two thousand years, and been felt 
 and admitted by persons in almost every possible variety 
 of condition, of external and internal condition ; almost 
 every possible variety in regard to clime, country, 
 civilisation, age, and social position, you will feel that 
 it is entitled to no mean respect. Certainly it is not at 
 once to be set aside in the mind of the serious and the 
 thoughtful, by the bold assertions of a man who has never 
 made a personal trial of its eflicacy, but, as is alleged, 
 began what may, in courtesy, be termed his rational 
 existence, by abstract convictions adverse to its truth. 
 
 I feel, however, little doubt that in his judgment of 
 Christianity, Mr. Owen lias, as so many others, been 
 misled by an erroneous method of considering the subject. 
 Unbelievers, as might easily be proved from their 
 writings, have mistaken the corruptions of Christianity 
 for Christianity itself; and thus led astray by the super- 
 ficiality of their view, have renounced the power of 
 godliness, because the accidental form in which they 
 regarded it proved repulsive. No institution, however, 
 whether of divine or human origin, not even Socialism 
 itself, could stand before so false a test ; and no man 
 would be knowingly guilty of so great a mistake, who 
 would wish to prove faitliful to his opportunities and to 
 his highest interests. 
 
 Another error has been to estimate Christianity solely 
 by what were considered its obvious and prominent re- 
 lults. The tendency to this mistake has been grievously 
 increased by the unhappy and prejudicial practice of 
 kistorians, in dwelling on, if not all but exclusively pre- 
 
197 
 
 senting in their pag'cs, the darker features of the human 
 character. For the most part, history, as it is commonly 
 offered to the reader, has been a painful chronicle 
 of v/ar, bloodshed, ambition, and treachery. The true 
 history of man has yet to be written. Where shall we 
 find a detailed description of the goodness and virtue 
 which have been the conservative power of society ? or 
 of the happiness of which it has been the creator and 
 the witness, and of the graces and charities by which it 
 has been adorned and blessed ? Yet it is of the essence 
 of the religion of Christ to call into being and sustain 
 those very qualities which history has left unrecorded. 
 The kingdom of God has ever come, and still comes, 
 without observation. Its operation and its triumphs are 
 within, in the gentleness, goodness, truth, and affection, 
 in all those softer and more sacred virtues which 
 naturally shun the public eye, and are too subtle, if they 
 are not too sober, for the rough and gaudy pencil of the 
 historian, but which have proved the very life and charm 
 of individuals, and poured into the homes of civilized 
 society, — into its cott:iges, its halls, and even in some 
 degree its palaces, a stream of pure, solid, and lasting 
 satisfactions. This is the great work and the great 
 triumph of the religion of Jesus. 
 
 A third error is this ; — not sufficient consideration 
 has been given to the antagonist principle. The lower 
 passions have ever stood, and still stand, in fearful array 
 against the religion of Christ. It is no theological 
 fiction, but a moral fact, that the human heart is prone 
 to wickedness. 1 do not deny its capabilities for good ; 
 I maintain them. But as little can I run counter to 
 experience, and deny its tendency to evil ; the one is 
 no less certain than the other. Now Christianity has 
 no alliance with the powers of darkness. It is their 
 enemy, not their associate; and consequently it has 
 to subdue thera ere it can exert its proper influence. 
 
 '2q 
 
198 
 
 But these powers begin with the dawn of life, operate 
 till its close, and are never known to have been entirely 
 subjugated ; and it must be remembered, that they are 
 individual in their influence. They come into existence 
 along with each successive human being ; so that their 
 subjugation has ever to be affected afresh. It is true, 
 that there is a general tone of morality which, improving 
 age after age, increases the power of society for good 
 over its individual members ; but it is also true, that 
 the power hence acquired is but small, compared with 
 the impulse with which the passions break forth in each 
 one's breast ; so that in the main Christianity has ever to 
 work its work ever and over again with each successive 
 mind. A work of such a nature must of necessity be 
 very gradual, as well as for the most part unobvious. And 
 when it is considered how much the evil powers have 
 received aid and co-operation from influences, for which 
 Christianity is in no way answerable — from the down- 
 fall of ancient civilisation, from the incursions of bar- 
 barians, and tlie ignorance, vices, and brutality, which 
 they brought with them, we shall have little reason to 
 wonder, that its influence on society at large has not 
 been more decided and prominent. But how unrea- 
 sonable is it to attempt to judge of the moral influence 
 of any system, without taking fully into account the 
 antagonist principles with which it has had to contend. 
 Of a necessity, that influence must have been modified 
 by hostile influences, with which, in working its work, 
 it came into conflict. In such a case, we are authorised 
 to expect not more than a medium result — a result com- 
 pounded at least in part of the uncongenial, the directly 
 conflicting influence of vice, ignorance, and barbarism. 
 Owenism may profess to slay its giants with a word, 
 and make a greatly imperfect generation educate its 
 successor in entire socialist perfection ; but such a 
 dream never entered into the mind of any rational 
 
199 
 
 reformer, and every one out of its pale knows that it i# 
 an impossibility. Arid as well might you expect an 
 entirely pure atmosphere to arise from the sun's rays, 
 and the mists of the earth ; or the streams to be as 
 limpid when they fall into the ocean, as were the 
 waters of the fountain whence they sprung, as to find 
 any moral influence whatever operating with unmodified 
 and unmingled power over the turbid and impure pas- 
 sions of the human heart, and the still more turbid and 
 impure institutions of society. 
 
 But the great error of socialism in this particular has 
 been in comparing the actual state of society with an 
 ideal condition of its own formation. It first erects a 
 standard of visionary excellence, and then condemns 
 Christianity, because it has not brought society up to 
 that: I should have said, down to that ; for assuredly, in 
 many respects, the standard of socialist perfection is low 
 enough. But whether high or low, this is a false method 
 of judging. In this way, every moral influence may be 
 condemned. The proscription can no longer be main- 
 tained exclusively against Christianity. Philosophy is 
 equally obnoxious to the charge. The human heart itself 
 must take its full share of reprobation. Morality will have 
 to abide the consequences of a verdict of guilty ; nay, even 
 Socialism will not appear blameless. In the person, the 
 character, and the efforts of its founder, it has had now, 
 for many years, a footing in the world. What has it 
 effected ? It has had a trial ; it has made experiments ; 
 from time to time it has risen to something more sub- 
 stantial than fairy visions ; but its palmy days are gone. 
 Having suffered shipwreck here and there, and been 
 denied a harbour in the metropolis of our own land, it 
 has floated its shattered bark down into the provinces, 
 and cast anchor among the quicksands of manufacturing 
 turbulence and discontent. But where are the gains of 
 its long and perilous voyage ? The very charity which 
 
200 
 
 it is, we are told, of the essence of its doctrines to cre- 
 ate, is found nowhere but in the dark pages which un- 
 fold its doctrines, side by side with ' all uncharitable- 
 ness' ; or, at all events, has scarcely found one receptacle 
 beyond the breast of him who gave the idea birth, and 
 who has himself but ill-treated his own offspring. 
 
 It is almost too obvious to merit a distinct statement, 
 that a better way than any of these errors presents, in 
 order to form a just opinion and pronounce an equitable 
 judgment of any moral influence, is to view it in its 
 historical relations — to pass in review the adverse powers 
 with which it had to contend — to take society as it 
 found it at separate periods, and estimate the effect 
 which in each case it produced. And if, in conjunction 
 with this method of enquiry, you will also, as you 
 ought to do, separate the religion of Jesus from the 
 corruptions which associated themselves with it, which 
 from time to time forced on it an uncongenial, nay, 
 an unnatural, and even hostile partnership, you will, 
 I feel no doubt, be led to see that that religion, so far as 
 it did operate, and so far as it could operate, has pro- 
 duced, instead of a complicated train of evils, nothing 
 but pure unmingled good. And indeed this conclusion 
 might be arrived at infercntially, for if, qs I have 
 shown, the spirit of Jesus, v^hich is the essence of his 
 religion, was, and is one of intellectual freedom and 
 moral power — one of power, and of love, and of a sound 
 mind — one of mercy, gentleness, truth, and philan- 
 thropy — then it must have proved a blessing to huma- 
 nity, so far as it could gain predominance ; and to say 
 that it has been a source of human wretchedness is to 
 affirm, that these are qualities which it is baneful for 
 mm to see, to feel, and to cherish ; or if you shrink 
 from so monstrous r^n error, then must you take up the 
 alternative, and dilate on the badnei5S and perversity of 
 that nature, which qualities so benign in their tcnd^m- 
 cies had been unable to reform. 
 
201 
 
 As however, it is of the nature of Christianity to pro- 
 duce its best and greatest effects in the secrecy of 
 individual and private life, so in order to do full jus- 
 tice to its claims, it is there that I ought to attempt 
 to trace its operation. But the very character of that 
 operation in being free from display, renders it less 
 appreciable by those whose moral vision is too dull for 
 the finer sentiments of our nature, and is more open to 
 the broad glare of facts. I shall therefore view the 
 religion of Jesus in the benefits it has conferred on 
 society at large. To do my duty by the subject would 
 require volumes. I can hope only to furnish one or 
 two brief and imperfect sketches. 
 
 I turn my attention to the condition of the world about 
 the time when Christianity was first proclaimed, and 
 what do I behold ? There is no occasion to dwell on the 
 condition of our own countrj'^ and that of the greater 
 part of Europe. The ordinary passions, the ordinary 
 vices, which agitate and disgrace a state of barbarism ; 
 the cruel fanaticism which has ever among ignorant na- 
 tions immolated human beings on the altars of ferocious 
 deities ; and the alternations of extreme indulgence and 
 extreme want which must attend on the wanderings and 
 precariousness of savage life, were but slightly miti- 
 gated in the case of our ancestors, by a certain generosity 
 of natural temperament and a slight advance towards 
 social improvement. I will at once ask you to take the 
 least unfavorable view, and place yourself amidst the 
 civilisation of ancient Rome. A superficial attention 
 will call up before you the splendor of its conquests ; the 
 triumphs which the resources of art enabled it to achieve 
 over nature ; the durable monuments which it has left in 
 its temples, arches, pillars ; and the yet more durable, 
 the everlasting monuments in which its discoveries, 
 thoughts, and emotions remain consecrated. But look 
 a little more deeply into its social condition. I wish 
 
202 
 
 not to depreciate its grandeurs, but I wish their real 
 value to be known. The civilisation of the Roman em- 
 pire lay, for the most part, on the surface ; — it was 
 dazzling, but not deep. It respected society rather than 
 the individual. And so far as it tended to the cultiva- 
 tion of individuals, t was pre-eminently a respecter of 
 persons, and showered its favors exclusively on a few. 
 The great mass of its subjects it held in all the debase- 
 ments and cruelties of slavery, or in moral degradation 
 and social contempt, v/hich was, perhaps, rather en- 
 hanced than alleviated by the false pride of Roman citi- 
 zenship. Its literary cultivation was attended by vices 
 which would now be held in horror by all but the very 
 dregs of society ; nor did the poet blush to celebrate 
 passions, at which unsophisticated nature revolts, and 
 which dry up all the channels of the heart. Its moral 
 civilisation, such as it was, had neither depth nor 
 strength, and was altogether unpenetrated by a spirit of 
 humanity. A gilded selfishness was not only prevalent 
 but approved ; and the most popular writer of the Augus- 
 tan age has given expression, more than once, to the 
 scornful arrogance with which the bulk of society was 
 regarded by the exclusive refinement of the day. Be- 
 yond the narrow limits of a self-seeking patriotism, no 
 generous feeling animated the breast even of the most 
 cultivated ; and on what a slender foundation that pa- 
 triotism was based, the morbid love of fame, the living 
 on the popular breath, seen in the writings of one whom 
 the senate hailed as 'Father of his country,' makes mani- 
 fest, in evidence the most ample, painful, and sickening. 
 Indeed, patriotism is a word which is in no way applica- 
 ble to most of the characters of the age, whom the canvas 
 of history presents to our view. The lust of power was 
 their exclusive inducement, self-aggrandizemcnt their 
 only aim; and in the means which they employed, there 
 were those who did not hesitate to delude Rome with 
 
203 
 
 the blood of its noblest citizens, and to debase the peo- 
 ple by every kind of social and political corruption. A 
 species of thinly-veiled sensualism prevailed throughout 
 the upper classes of society, which it would be most 
 offensive to characterise, and for whose gratification, 
 land and sea, east and west, were ransacked, and even 
 nature itself put to the torture. Nations and kingdoms 
 were conquered, not merely to extend the glory of the 
 Roman name, but to serve as prey to the rapacity of 
 statesmen, and enable the ambitious, by means of fo- 
 reign wealth, to keep in good humour the bulk of the 
 idle, turbulent, and vicious populace of the city. For 
 the same unworthy purpose, the chiefs and monarchsof 
 conquered nations were, together with their wives and 
 children, led, burthened with chains and covered with 
 indignity, through the thronging streets of the capital 
 of the world, up to the national temple, where religion 
 was dishonoured by being made the patron of cruel am- 
 bition. And equally for the same unworthy purpose, 
 thousands of victims were slain each by the other, in 
 conflicts with beasts of prey, as ' the playthings of a 
 crowd.' 
 
 I see before me the gladiator lie : 
 He leans upon bis hand — his manly brow- 
 Consents to death, but conquers agony ; 
 And his dropped head sinks gradually low — 
 And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow 
 From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, 
 Like the first of a thunder shower : and now 
 The arena swims around him — he is gone, 
 Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won. 
 
 He heard it, but heeded not — his eyes 
 Were witli his heart, and that was far away; 
 He reck'd not of the life he lost, nor prize, 
 But where his rude hut by the Danube lay; 
 There were his young barbarians all at play, 
 TJiere was their Dacian mother — he, their sire, 
 Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday, — 
 All this rush'd with his blood. 
 
204 
 
 * The Dacian mother' ; so was it at first ; captives, 
 slaves, and culprits originally furnished the arena: 
 then came citizens of Rome fighting for hire, or im- 
 pelled by a low ambition ; then knights and se- 
 nators; and lastly, dwarfs, and even women fought. 
 * Besides the torrents of blood which flowed at the 
 funerals, in the amphitheatres, the circus, the forums, 
 and other public places, gladiators Avere introduced at 
 feasts, and tore each other in pieces amidst the supper 
 tables, to the great delight and applause of the guests.' 
 There were other public amusements, the practices in 
 which, though performed by females — by the matrons of 
 Rome — decency forbids me to do more than allude 
 to ; yet were they a part of the legal institutions of the 
 state; and so far as I know, there is but one instance on 
 record of their being disapproved ; I refer to the cir- 
 cumstance, that the virtuous Cato withdrew in pain and 
 humiliation from the offensive spectacle offered by the 
 Floral Games. 
 
 Perhaps there were redeeming qualities. There were ; 
 but they are to be looked for mainly in the native and 
 indelible instincts of the human heart, and the influence 
 thereon of a bright and genial clime. If I go to philo- 
 sophy, I find its prevalence confined within the narrowest 
 limits ; 1 find its appearance stunted and sickly, as was 
 likely in a plant not indigenous, but brought into an 
 uncongenial soil from the parental lands of Greece. 
 And its operation was on the surface of the character, 
 shining over, without kindling the mind, and leaving 
 the heart unpenotrated, and the lite uninformed. If I 
 go to religion, 1 see its very ministers unable to restrain 
 the smile which the eye of one awoke on the face of the 
 other, when, jointly engaged in the sacred ceremonies, 
 they chanced to encounter each other's look. Philo- 
 sophy and social dignity took to themselves the oflices 
 of religion, and concealing atheistical sentiments under 
 
205 
 
 the sacerdotal robe, abused the popular superstition in 
 order to forward their own selfishness, instead of avail- 
 ing- themselves of their knowledge and power to en- 
 lighten and reform the public mind. And occasions 
 there were, w^hen, under the cloak or by the sanction of 
 religion itself, the low-est passions were gratified and 
 indulged; or even human blood w^as impiously shed.* 
 Nor were these crimes, which were studiously screened 
 from the eye of day as too abominable for the moral 
 feelings to endure. Public opinion — so far as such a 
 thing can be said to have existed — had no reprobation 
 to utter ; when it did not approve, it was acquiescent ; 
 and philosophy itself, though it might have suspected 
 ill, was too selfish or too cowardly to denounce it. 
 Domestic life then, as at every other time, doubtless 
 had its virtues, but they were virtues of a slave-holding 
 community, and for that, if for no other reason, could 
 not have been of superior excellence. There went 
 through the villages and homes of the land,t a stream of 
 degrading sensual corruption, which could receive but 
 little check from the shadowy notions entertained of a 
 futurity, and which the obscene stories that formed the 
 very substance of their ideas of the gods, tended to 
 swell and make turbid. But look at the power of the 
 Roman father. Even socialism could not so easily 
 disembarrass itself of the care of providing for offspring. 
 A child is born : it remained with the father to deter- 
 mine whether it should survive its first breath. Unless 
 he received it into his arms, it had not the rights of 
 legitimacy, and if it was his behest, it was exposed to 
 
 * B. Constant de !a Religion, vol. iv. chapitre 7me. But those 
 wlio wouM become acquainted with details respecting the state of reli- 
 gion at Rome during the first and second century, details to -which not 
 even an allusion could with propriety be made in the Lecture itself, 
 may consult the 2d chapter 1st book of tiie same Avork. 
 
 f Rites of Cybele and the Bona Dea, Juvenal, Sat. vi.. ; in which 
 is a frightful picture of the union of foulness and superstition. 
 
206 
 
 perish. Should it be permitted to grow up to youth, 
 all the while the father held over it the power of life 
 and death ; and for any grave act of disobedience, he 
 might imprison, scourge, or even slay his child: but 
 enough. 
 
 I pass on a few centuries. Meanwhile Christianity 
 has been at work in the bosom of society. True, the 
 corruptions of heathenism, and the corruptions of human 
 nature, had grown around, and even into its very heart. 
 Yet private life begins to appear more human, more 
 virtuous, more happy — the lower passions are subdued, 
 the higher and better affections are encouraged. Fide- 
 lity, affection, truth, and honour, are born and grow ; 
 individual power is called forth and fostered ; religion 
 begins to sway the breast ; — among its earliest effects 
 is a sense of brotherhood. The heart, now regenerated, 
 and conscious of the good, becomes desirous to commu- 
 nicate its blessings, and the very excess and abuse of its 
 feelings, in the undue anxiety manifested in favour of 
 proselytism, shows the strength as well as the benevo- 
 lence of the power that has been newly created. Nor 
 does it limit its efforts to the moral and spiritual wants 
 of others. Their physical condition, before utterly 
 disregarded, or contumeliously contemned, excites ten- 
 der concern, and awakens the most generous efforts; 
 and soon heathenism* is found making it a reproach to 
 Christians, that they support its poor as well as their 
 own. And onward does this stream of benevolence flow, 
 becoming wider and deeper with the lapse of time, till 
 not a human want is there, not a human malady, but is 
 supplied by the benign genius of the religion of Christ 
 with its appropriate balm and remedy. I say not, tliat 
 this spirit of charity has been always as wise as it was 
 intense ; but here again, the very misuse which human 
 weakness has made of the power, demonstrates its vita- 
 
 * 111 tlic person of Julian. 
 
207 
 
 lity and streng-th. This is also true, that Christianity 
 has given birth to an antagonist principle in the forma 
 tion of individual independence of character, which, so 
 far as the inferior passions have allowed it to operate, 
 has powerfully tended to abate and control the excesses 
 of the principle of charity, and will eventually, I 
 believe, bring it within its proper limits. Certainly, in 
 ancient times there was no occasion to complain of the 
 excess of benevolence, and as little scope among the 
 people for the growth of a manly independence. Phi- 
 lanthropy and individuality, the principle which cares 
 for the race, and that which constitutes the true dignity 
 and happiness of each human being, were rarely if ever 
 found ; or found only in forms of speculation. 
 
 As a consequence of the operation of these Christian 
 influences, slavery is first mitigated and then abolished. 
 Religious toleration, unknown even in theory hitherto, 
 is expounded as a duty, asserted as a right, and, for a 
 time, maintained in practice. The paternal power is 
 converted from an engine of brute force into the gentle 
 appliances of reason and love. And the great public 
 crime which, as I have intimated, made Rome a slaughter- 
 house of human victims, is first disallowed by public 
 opinion, and then abolished by law. This achievement 
 for humanity was, beyond a doubt, effected by the silent 
 influence on society of Christian principles ; but the im- 
 mediate cause assigned for the putting down gladiatorial 
 fights, is worthy of mention, not only as exemplifying 
 the power of Christian principle, but illustrating also 
 the change which had been wrought in the spirit of the 
 times. It was in the reign of the Emperor Honorius, 
 at the commencement of the fifth century, that an 
 eastern monk, by name Telemachus, travelled to Rome, 
 intent on the benign purpose of putting a period to these 
 disgraceful games. The combatants were engaged in 
 deadly conflict ; the people looked on with a lively, yet 
 subdued interest ; one of the highest magistrates presided, 
 
208 
 
 and sanctioned the scene not only by his presence, but 
 his warm approval ; when, in the midst of the strife, the 
 monk rushed in and strove to separate the combatants. 
 The Praetor, indignant at the interruption given to a 
 sport in which he delighted, ordered the gladiators to 
 turn their arms against the intruder. The Christian 
 hero was met with death ; but the triumph he sought 
 was achieved, for the Emperor immediately abolished 
 gladiatorial shows, and they were never afterwards 
 revived. 
 
 I direct my thoughts to a later period. I find that 
 barbarism has come in like a deluge over western and 
 southern Europe. It has swept away or covered ancient 
 civilisation, and even polluted the influences of Chris- 
 tianity. Feudalism is established everywhere, and its 
 symbols are absolutism, vassalage, slavery, and violence. 
 The will of one is law, whether that one be the great or 
 the petty tyrant, and that will is penetrated by benevo- 
 lence as lit tie as by wisdom. Brute force is the predomi- 
 nant secular power. The sword is the solo arbiter of 
 riglit and wrong. Indeed, all rights are sunk in the 
 right of the strongest. In each nation you behold on 
 one side the monarcli and his nobles in union or in con- 
 flict, and on the otlier, the people at largo, groaning 
 under the oppressive yoke of personal and domestic 
 slavery. War rages in unmitigated fury, and every 
 district is fiercely agitated by the broils of envious 
 nobles, or the deadly hatreds of rival clans. The mind, 
 as well as the heart, suffers universal neglect at the 
 hands of the dominant power. It is the reign of igno- 
 rance ; darkness covers the land, and gross darkness the 
 people. Where was there a remedial power ? what light 
 pierced the gloom ? There is no earthly resource. The 
 principle of civilisation is crushed or overlaid. The 
 elements of civil liberty scarcely appear in embryo. No 
 taste for knowledge, and none of its fruits. The earth 
 is * void and without form.' But there 7vas a sun, how 
 
209 
 
 obscure soever its shining in an atmosphere so dense 
 and troubled. The religion of Christ was the morning 
 star of modern European civilisation. That the religion 
 of Christ then existed in a corrupted form, I readily 
 admit; and it is by no means easy, nor in the present 
 instance is it necessary, to distinguish in their operations 
 the germ of truth from the corruptions with wliich it 
 was encrusted. It has been not unusual to utter an 
 entire proscription of the Catholic Church, as it existed 
 in what are termed * the dark ages' ; but in this warfare, 
 as is not uncommon, more zeal than knowledge has 
 been exhibited. I indeed deplore the corruptions and 
 the evils they engendered ; but I am also convinced that 
 they were not without their benefits. However this may 
 be, it is beyond a question that the only, to speak in 
 general terms, the only corrective and reformative power 
 lay in the influence of a degenerated Christianity. It 
 might have been better for the pure influence of Christian 
 principle itself to have furnished the antidote. It is 
 also not impossible that some admixture of earthly in- 
 fluence was requisite to secure for religion a seat and a 
 throne in grossly sensual bosoms. To take the religion 
 of Jesus, however, as we find it, wrought, together with 
 much corruption, into a spiritual organisation, designated 
 the Church. In its movements, this corporate body was 
 at the first actuated by principles and impulses which 
 no Christian need be ashamed to avow ; — soon, however, 
 inferior passions gained a predominance, and a lust of 
 power became the ruling passion. But what can more 
 strikingly illustrate the benign tendency of Christianity 
 than that its very abuse should, in many cases, prove 
 of service to mankind ? Even in seeking the further- 
 ance of their own low designs, men have been compelled, 
 churchmen, princes, have been compelled to enunciate 
 principles, and to avow purposes, which, by an indirect 
 operation, have tended not only to benefit the many, but 
 to retard and eventually to bring to an end the very evils 
 
 2s 
 
210 
 
 which the ambitious and the selfish committed in its 
 name. 
 
 There were three channels in which the Christian 
 Church rendered, directly or indirectly, intentionally or 
 unintentionally, important services to modern Europe, 
 anterior to the Reformation. First, it was a principle 
 of organisation. The civilisation of the ancient world, 
 together with its forms of government, were broken in 
 pieces by the collision with it of the barbarous hordes. 
 Europe became the domain of anarchy. But in the 
 Christian Church there was a regular and systematic 
 government, a gradation of orders subordinated to a 
 central power. This organisation became an example 
 and an impulse. It proved a constituent power; — it 
 served as a nucleus around which ideas of social go- 
 vernment might gather, which, afterwards germinating, 
 brought forth the first shoots of social organisation. It 
 thus collected the scattered forces of society, moulded 
 the individual power of barons and petty princes into 
 one organised body, and rescued country after country 
 out of the evils of social anarchy. Government again 
 existed, in an imperfect form indeed, )'et not much 
 inferior to the gilded tyranny of Augustus, — better than 
 the cruel and bloody domination of a Marius and a 
 Sylln, and far preferable to the enfeebling and devastating 
 sway of later Roman Emperors. Government again 
 existed, acquired stability, developed a power of self- 
 improvement, and thus laid the foundation and paved 
 the way for the continual progress of civilisation. And 
 when the heads of the several organised states of Europe, 
 yet not more advanced, than at the furthest, midway be- 
 tween barbarism and civilisation, gave a loose to their 
 brutal passions, it was the voice of religion that arrested 
 their hands of violence, and stayed their wasteful career. 
 A diobedient city is sacked, and its inhabitants put to the 
 sword. The perpetrator of the crime is summoned before 
 » tribunal, at the mere thought of which he trembles, 
 
2H 
 
 and is compelled to offer, in the severity of the penance 
 he is made to undergo, an example and a warning which 
 speak to the most absolute monarchs of the world. In 
 the midst of the broken elements of social organisation, 
 and before they had again coalesced, war, under the goad 
 of revengeful passions, rages between rival chiefs in 
 every district ; religion interposes her voice, and what 
 she cannot put an end to, she mitigates, and in the name 
 of God, establishes and succeeds in enforcing brief but 
 most useful intervals of peace. A crowned tyrant 
 proves treacherous to his most solemn engagements, 
 and his subjects, now beginning to rise out of the depths 
 of ignorance, appeal to the Church ; — the imbecile and 
 cruel despot is divested of his crown, and made to receive 
 it again on his knees with lowly promises of a more 
 righteous course. And should any monarch, in the pre- 
 sumption of mind engendered by his power, venture to 
 resist the spiritual arms of the Church, his only reward 
 is a heavier infliction, and he is driven to sue barefoot 
 for days together in the depth of winter at the gates of 
 the papal palace, for pardon of his offences and restora- 
 tion to favour. These things are not mentioned as 
 instances of abstract good, but as proofs of the mitiga- 
 ting influence which religion exerted over depositories of 
 civil power, whose career otherwise would have been 
 purely disastrous. But so far as the Church tended to 
 lay the basis of social institutions, to weaken the arm of 
 oppression, to alleviate the hardships of the people, to 
 abate the horrors of war, and thus to prepare the way 
 for constitutional governments, the arbitrament of reason, 
 the practical acknowledgment of social rights, so far — 
 and these, its deeds, are of high importance — so far it 
 deserved well of mankind, and should meet v;ith a just 
 award of approbation. 
 
 But secondly, — the institutions of the Church were of 
 a popular character. In ancient times, and under the 
 sway of feudalism, the people w^ere nothing ; nothing. 
 
212 
 
 at least, but victims or tools. But popular elections 
 prevailed in the first germs of the organisations of the 
 church, and continued, though with diminished obser- 
 vance, down through many centuries. When, how- 
 ever, the people even ceased to have in their own hands 
 the choice and the support of their religious teachers, 
 they still retained the full right of admission to all the 
 orders of ecclesiastical power. Indeed, the Church, well 
 knowing where its strength lay, constantly recruited 
 its ranks from the humblest classes ; and thus called 
 forth an ambition to rise, and those eftorts and powers 
 on which an elevation in society depends. In conse- 
 quence, a feeling of moral equality, ideas of liberty, a 
 love of liberty, a striving for liberty, were diffused 
 throughout the social system. The father, the brothers, 
 the neighbours of a youth, who, from the sheepfold had 
 been raised to a rank where the priestly office communi- 
 cated a sanctity at which nobles and kings reverently 
 bent the knee, could not long continue to grovel in the 
 debasements of slavery, nmst certainly have gathered 
 ideas and feelings which would in time assume a definite 
 shape, grow into individual and social power, and be- 
 come, in their general operation, the ground-work of 
 improved political institutions. The individual power 
 thus called forth would conduce to social efficiency ; 
 lience wealth, — wealth would favor tlie spread of intelli- 
 gence, and intelligence, supported by wealth, would lead 
 to social distinction. The powers that were must have 
 felt this new-born and growing intluence, muJt have 
 received modifications from it ; and at last they began 
 to assume that shape which, in admitting representatives 
 of the people into partnership with themselves, has 
 wrought out a good for Europe, of which, what has yet 
 been experienced, large as comparatively it is, will prove 
 but a slight foretaste eventually. 
 
 The third beneficial intluence of the Church, to which 1 
 alluded, consists in the diffusion of knowledge, of which 
 
213 
 
 it was the parent. Unhappily, in recent times, ecclesi- 
 astical corporations have universally sought to narrow 
 and check the stream of enlightenment, and therefore 
 men have come to regard them as the necessary, as well 
 as the open, enemies of human improvement. In the 
 times, however, of which I speak, the Church was com- 
 pelled to further the diffusion of knowledge, even when 
 it was not prompted thereto by a spontaneous movement 
 of benevolence. Its power was essentially intellectual 
 and moral. By the nature of its mission, and more by 
 the very condition of its existence, its work was to favor 
 liberty and diffuse light. Hence universities founded 
 in every nation and many of the cities of the least dark 
 portions of Europe ; hence schools in connexion with 
 the palace of the bishop and the abbey of the monk ; 
 hence those collections, and that perpetual transcription 
 of manuscripts, by which the relics of ancient civilisa- 
 tion were preserved and floated down to modern days. 
 With all its faults — and they were many — the Christian 
 Church proved the ark of the higher learning, as well as 
 the palladium of liberty. It kept alive the sap of hu- 
 man improvement during the long and severe winter 
 through which Europe passed, till the springtime and 
 summer should call forth leaves and elaborate germs 
 into fruit. 
 
 If there is truth in these remarks, then, at and since 
 the revival of letters and the Reformation, you cannot 
 deny that the religion of Jesus justly claims no insigni- 
 ficant award of praise. At least it sowed and watered 
 the seed of the harvest which we have reaped, are reap- 
 ing, and shall reap. And could we succeed in separat- 
 ing from the religion of Jesus the unholy passions and 
 influences which were blended with it in the organised 
 form it assumed under the shape of the Catholic Church, 
 you would, I feel no doubt, discover that its own una- 
 dulterated operation had been both purely and largely 
 beneficial. 
 
214 
 
 But for a moment call to mind a few plain facts. The 
 greater part of Europe has been delivered out of the 
 chains of personal thraldom. It is a mere abuse of 
 words to talk of ' white slavery.' I admit, and I deplore, 
 the degraded and unhappy lot in which large portions of 
 the working classes still remain. But they are free to 
 think, to speak, to act, to go whither they will, to carry 
 their labour to the best market, and to rise to any posi- 
 tion which their abilities may enable them to command. 
 Then look at the general diffusion of knowledge, at the 
 immense circulation of cheap literature. The very 
 ability to assail Christianity, has been born of the influ- 
 ences of which Christianity is the parent. Look also at 
 the general spread of the comforts, and what were 
 formerly the luxuries of life. On the table of the day 
 labourer, and around his cottage, the four quarters of 
 the globe come and lay their choice productions. Look 
 at the schools which stand in every hamlet in Europe, 
 and in the case of no few of its lands, effect much of 
 what the philanthropist could most ardently desire. 
 Think how many streams of private benevolence steal 
 forth from our homes to water, refresh, and invigorate 
 our barren spots. Benevolence standeth in our streets, 
 and crieth to the destitute, the ignorant, the sick, the 
 maimed, the blind, the deaf, the dumb ; ' Ho, everyone 
 that thirsteth come, even he that hath no money ; Come, 
 buy wine and milk, without money and without price.' 
 See how the love of human kind, called forth and sus- 
 tained by the love of Christ, is sending, and has sent 
 devoted men and women into all parts of the uncivilised 
 world ; and though you should have no fellow-feeling 
 with the exertions they make on behalf of religion, you 
 cannot deny that they have been the advanced guard of 
 civilisation ; nor that in the abolition of cruel rites, the 
 extinction of barbarous superstitions, the putting an end 
 to the exposure of the aged, the mis-treatment or the ill- 
 treatment of the sick, the immolation of the widow, to 
 
215 
 
 infanticide, to wars of extermination; and in the intro- 
 duction of the arts and sciences of civilised life, of a 
 taste for knowledge, of an idea and a want for the com- 
 forts of home, they have rendered services to their race, 
 and manifested a spirit of humanity, to which there is no 
 parallel nor approach in the previous history of mankind. 
 But of details on this point there is no end : the man must 
 be ignorant, or wilfully blind, who would assert, that 
 Europe is not far advanced in those things which bless 
 and adorn humanity, beyond what it was at any anterior 
 period. As futile is the attempt to deny or disown the 
 influence of the religion of Christ in these grand 
 achievements. What was the revival of letters, but the 
 bringing forth to light of those germs of intelligence 
 and refinement which Christianity had fostered in its 
 bosom ? And who but Christians drew the remains of 
 ancient letters from the cloister, and diffused them 
 throughout the world ? The Reformation was the first 
 great result of the revival of letters, and the Reforma- 
 tion was the offspring of the Bible, and the work of a 
 monk. In these two grand events lay the impulse of all 
 our subsequent triumphs. They were the epochs of the 
 new birth of Europe. The invention of printing, the 
 discovery and colonisation of the New World, the disco- 
 veries of science, the application of science to the arts, 
 the improvements in medicine, the increased value of 
 human life ; thie intellectual and moral power, before 
 which the blaze of diadems grows dim, and the sceptre 
 of monarchs is changed from a rod of oppression into a 
 bauble of office, and by which — a higher triumph — indi- 
 viduals become conscious of their rights, their duties — 
 conscious of the worth and dignity of their nature, and 
 home is made the abode of happiness, and the nursery 
 of sterling principle, and of the purer virtues and more 
 refined graces of life ; — all this multiplicity of good ha» 
 ensued from the impulse which Europe received some 
 three centuries since, and from the quiet but efficacious 
 
216 
 
 operation on its condition of the great principles of the 
 religion of Jesus. 
 
 You have now before you some means of determining 
 whether the socialist charge against Christianity, of 
 having proved baneful to man, is just or unjust. 
 
 I have in this instance, as in some others, during this 
 course of lectures, given Socialism the advantage of 
 stating its position in a mitigated form. Its customary 
 declaration has been that Christianity is the cause of all 
 our social ills. In the words of one of its writers,* ' it 
 never has done good, has always done harm, and ever 
 will so long as it exists.' ' Christianity has been the 
 harbinger of discord, plunder, and bloodshed wherever 
 she has extended her devastating influence ; and no 
 countr}'' exists on the face of the globe where the attempt 
 to Christianize the inhabitants has not been attended 
 with, at least, the partial loss of freedom and of happi- 
 ness to those inhabitants.' * Tlie Christian rehgion is 
 nothing more than a fashion, that can only exist 
 with ignorance ; it has been productive of hypocrisy 
 and superstition ; it will be the duty, business, and ten- 
 dency of superior intelligence to uproot this gigantic 
 scourge.' 
 
 \Vherever there is any knowledge of ihe history of 
 the world, such extravagancies confute themselves. But 
 in ignorance they find a prepared and a rank soil. The 
 Christian, then, cannot fail to see his duty. His motto 
 must be ' Educate, educate, educate.' Thus, and thus 
 only, can the evil tendencies of Owenism be elTectually 
 encountered. Let the system only be met by the 
 diffusion of knowledge, its existence will be of short 
 duration, and that religion which it has made the special 
 object of its assaults, will prove a rock on which it will 
 bo ground to pieces. 
 
 * llorton'g Sv'.rvcv of the ElFccti of ChnitianitT. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Note 1. 
 
 Page 5 — ' The economical arrangements proposed for adoption in the 
 New Moral World: 
 
 Socialists are wont to affirm, that in respect of com- 
 munity of property, they do hut propose to imitate the 
 first Christians. I, therefore, translate the following 
 from a very respectable and an impartial authority : — 
 
 " *And they had all things common/ 
 
 ** Many writers have before remarked that these words 
 should not be too much insisted on, nor interpreted as 
 intimating an absolute communion of property; and 
 have supported their position by suitable arguments. 
 For, from the circumstance that the richer Christians 
 are said, in order to aid the poverty of their companions, 
 to have sold their houses and lands, and deposited the 
 price in the hands of the Apostles for the use of the 
 poor, it by no means follows that they stripped them- 
 selves of all their property: in fact, the meaning of the 
 words is this, — the richer, that they might confer more 
 abundantbenefits on their fellow-Christians of a slenderer 
 fortune, used to dispose of a portion of their property 
 which they could without great detriment do without, 
 in order that they might supply, by means of the sale 
 of possessions, aid which the annual income did not 
 furnish. It is sufficiently clear, from many other pas- 
 sages of this book, that the words of the writer are to 
 be understood in this sense, and thaiiio idea is contained 
 
218 
 
 in them of a contribution made by private persons of 
 their whole property. For we read, Acts iv., 32, ' Nei- 
 ther said any of them, that ought of the things which 
 he possessed was his own, but they had all things com- 
 mon;' which words plainly enough declare that the 
 produce only of the possessions was common, not 
 the possessions themselves. Further, Peter is said to 
 have addressed Ananias thus — * Whiles it remained was 
 it not thine own ? and after it was sold, was it (the 
 money) not in thine own power V How could Peter 
 truly say it was in the power of Ananias not to sell the 
 land, or to keep to himself the price of the land when 
 sold, if, of necessity, by the laws of the society, all things 
 were to be distributed in common? It is evident, there- 
 fore, from this place, that there were individuals among 
 the Ch ristians who had possessions , properly tlieir own , and 
 who retained their property. Besides, mention is made of 
 Mary having a dwelling-house at Jerusalem. Nor had 
 community of property any place in the other Christian 
 societies. No traces of this custom are to be met with 
 in the letters of the Apostles. By the advice of the 
 Apostles money was collected for the use of the poor. 
 Paul exhorts the Corinthians, every one of them on 
 the first day of the week to lay in store something in 
 his own house for the use of the poor. The Corinthians, 
 therefore, retained their property. The same Apostle 
 tells the Thessalonians, to earn their subsistence by 
 hand labour, and places before them his own example 
 for imitation in that he did not desire to obtain subsist- 
 ence from any person for nothing, but procured it by his 
 own labor. So that the words * and they had all things 
 commoii are to be understood popularly, and in the same 
 sense as the old proverb in Plato, * friends have all 
 things coynmon: — that is, as Seneca writes, * Whatever 
 my friend has is common to us. but is properly his who 
 
219 
 
 possesses it ; without his consent 1 cannot make use of 
 it/ By the words in question, therefore, is signified 
 the zealous and pre-eminent practice of beneficence and 
 liberality." — Kuinoel on Acts it. 44. 
 
 Note 2. 
 
 Page 15 — * It is an historical fad, that be/ore the end of the first 
 ceniun/, its prevalence became an object of earnest solicitude to the Em- 
 perors of Rome themselves, and thai its professors toei'e subjected to 
 penalties and persecutions at the Jiands of Roman gofloei-nors^ 
 
 Suetonius, in his life of the Emperor Claudius, who 
 reigned from 41 to 54 A.D., says of him—* He banished 
 the Jews from Rome, who were continually making 
 disturbances, Chrestus (Christ) being their leader.' (See 
 Acts xviii., 2.) 
 
 In his life of Nero, whose reign began in 54 and 
 ended in 68, the same writer says,—* The Christians 
 were 'punished^ a sort of men of a -mw and magical (mi- 
 raculous) superstition.' 
 
 On account of its full and explicit statements, as 
 well as because it exhibits the spirit and extent of per- 
 secution, of which I discourse in the third lecture, I 
 transcribe several parts of Pliny's letter to Trajan. 
 Pliny was born in the year 61, A.D., was Consul in 
 100, A.D. ; and being governor of Pontus and Bithynia, 
 wrote, in the year i06, to the Emperor Trajan, for 
 directions as to the measures he should pursue towards 
 Christians, fl/*/er, let it be noticed, he had persecuted 
 them. 
 
 * I have never been present at any trials of Christians' 
 (trials then had been customary), * so that I know not 
 well what is the subject matter of punishment, or of 
 inquiry, or what strictness ought to be used in either. 
 Nor have I been a little perplexed to determine whether 
 any difference ought to be made upon account of age, 
 or whether the young and tender, and the full-grown 
 and robust, ought to be treated all alike : whether re- 
 
220 
 
 pentance should entitle to pardon, or whether all who 
 have once been Christians ought to be punished, though 
 they are now no longer so : whether the name itself, 
 although no crimes be detected, or crimes only belong- 
 ing to the name, ought to be punished.' (It is a fair 
 presumption that all these rigid measures of persecution 
 had been pursued.) * In the meantime, I have taken this 
 course ; — I have put the question to them, whether they 
 were Christians. Upon their confessing to me that they 
 were, I repeated the question a second and a third time, 
 threatening, also, to punish them with death. Such as 
 still persisted, I ordered aivay to be punished, for it 
 was no doubt with me, 7vhatever might be the nature of 
 their opinion, that contumacy and inficxible obstinacy 
 ought to be punished.' 
 
 * In a short time, the crime spreading itself, divers 
 sorts of people came in my way.' * An information was 
 presented to me, without mentioning the author, con- 
 taining the names of many persons.' * Others were 
 named by an informer ; — some said they had been 
 Christians three years ago, some longer, and a iev: above 
 twenty years.' * I have examined, and that by torture ^ 
 two maid servants, who were called ministers ; but I 
 have discovered nothing besides a bad and excessive 
 superstition.' * Suspending all judicial proceedings, I 
 have recourse to you for advice ; for it has appeared to 
 7ne a matter highly deserving consideration, especially 
 npon account of the great number of persons who are 
 in danger of suffering. For many of all ages and 
 every rank, of both sexes likewise, are accused, and will 
 be accused. Nor has the contagion of this superstition 
 seized cities only, but the lesser towns also, and the open 
 country. Nevertheless, it seems to me that it may be 
 restrained and corrected. It is certain that the temples, 
 which were almost forsaken ,he^'\n to be more frequented, 
 and the sacred solemnities, after a long intermission. 
 are revived. Victims likewise are every where bought 
 
221 
 
 up, whereas ybr some time there were few purchasers.' 
 (The Pagan religion could scarcely have been brough t 
 to this condition under half a century, which takes 
 back the origin of Christianity in Asia Minor to within 
 twenty years after the death of its founder.) 
 
 The Emperor answers : — ' You have acted as you 
 ought to do. If any are brought before you, and are 
 convicted, they must be punished. However, he that 
 denies his being a Christian, and makes it evident in 
 fact, that is, by supplicating our gods, may, on repen- 
 tance, be pardoned, though suspected to have been a 
 Christian formerly.' 
 
 Note 3 — p. 53, 
 
 I subjoin the following authorities on the persecutions 
 of which heathens were guilty. 
 
 ' The passions which mingle themselves with opinions 
 made the Pagans very often intolerant and persecutors ; 
 witness the Persians, the Egyptians, even the Greeks 
 and Romans. 
 
 * 1st. — The Persians. — Cambyses, conqueror of the 
 Egyptians, condemned to death the magistrates of 
 Memphis, because they had offered divine honours to 
 their god. Apis : he caused the god to be brought before 
 him, struck him with his dagger, commanded the priests 
 to be scourged, and ordered a general massacre of all 
 the Eg}'ptians who should be found celebrating the fes- 
 tival of Apis ; he caused all the statues of the gods to 
 be burnt. Not content with this intolerance, he sent 
 an army to reduce the Ammonians to slavery, and to set 
 on fire the temple in which Jupiter delivered his oracles. 
 
 * 2nd. — The Egyptians. — They thought themselves 
 defiled when they had drunk from the same cup, or 
 eaten at the same table, with a man of a different belief 
 from their own.' * He who has voluntarily killed any 
 sacred animal is punished with death ; but if any one, 
 
 2 T 
 
222 
 
 even involuntarily, has killed a cat or an ibis, he cannot 
 escape the extreme penalty ; the people drag him away, 
 treat him in the most cruel manner, sometimes without 
 waiting for a judicial sentence. Even at the time when 
 king Ptolemy was not yet the acknowledged friend 
 of the Roman people, while the multitude were paying 
 court with all possible attention to the strangers who 
 came from Italy, a Roman having killed a cat, the 
 people rushed to his house, and neither the entreaties 
 of the nobles, whom the king sent to them, nor the 
 terror of the Roman name, were sufficiently powerful 
 to rescue the man from punishment, though he had 
 committed the crime involuntarily. "-D/orf. Sic. Juvenal, 
 in his 13th Satire, describes the sanguinary conflict be- 
 tween the inhabitants of Ombos and of Tentyra from 
 religious animosity. The fury was carried so far, that 
 the conquerors tore and devoured the quivering limbs of 
 the conquered. 
 
 * 3rd. — The Greeks. — " Let us not here," says the 
 Abbe Gucnoe, "refer to the cities of Peloponnesus and 
 their severity against atheism ; the Ephesians persecu- 
 ting Heraclitus for impiety; the Greeks armed one 
 against the other by religious zeal in the Amphictyonic 
 war. Let us say nothing either of the frightful cruelties 
 inflicted by three successors of Alexander upon the Jews, 
 to force them to abandon their religion ; nor of Antiochus 
 expelUng the philosophers from his state. Let us not 
 seek our proofs of intolerance so far ofl:'. Athens, the 
 polite and learned Athens, will supply us with sufficient 
 examples. Ever>" citizen made a public and solemn 
 vow to conform to the religion of his country, to defend 
 it, and to cause it to be respected. An express law 
 severely punished all discourses against the gods ; and 
 a rigid decree ordered the denunciation of all who 
 should deny their existence. The practice was in 
 nnison with the severity of the law. The proceedings 
 
223 
 
 commenced against Protagoras ; a price set upon the 
 head of Diagoras ; the danger of Alcibiades ; Aristotle 
 obliged to fly ; Stilpo banished ; Anaxagoras hardly- 
 escaping death ; Pericles himself, after all his services 
 to his country, and all the glory he had acquired, com- 
 pelled to appear before the tribunals, and make his 
 defence ; a priestess executed for having introduced 
 strange gods ; Socrates condemned and drinking the 
 hemlock, because he was accused of not recognizing 
 those of his country, &c. ; these facts attest too loudly, 
 to be called in question, the religious intolerance of the 
 most humane and enlightened people in Greece." 
 
 * 4th. — The Romans. — The laws of Rome were not 
 less express and severe. The intolerance of foreign 
 religions reaches, with the Romans, as high as the laws 
 of the twelve tables ; the prohibitions were afterwards 
 renewed at different times. Intolerance did not discon- 
 tinue under the Emperors ; witness the counsel of 
 Maecaenas to Augustus. This counsel is so remarkable 
 that I think it right to insert it entire. "Honour the 
 gods yourself," says Maeccenas to Augustus, " in every 
 way according to the usage of your ancestors, and 
 compel others to worship them. Hate and punish those 
 who introduce strange gods, not only for the sake of 
 the gods (he who despises them will respect no one), 
 but because those who introduce new gods engage a 
 multitude of persons in foreign laws and customs. From 
 hence arise unions bound by oaths, and confederacies 
 and associations, things dangerous to a monarchy." 
 
 * Even the laws which the philosophers of Athens and 
 of Rome wrote for their imaginary republics are 
 intolerant. Plato does not leave to his citizens freedom 
 of religious worship; and Cicero expressly prohibits 
 them from having other gods than those of the state.' 
 
 (Milman's Notes to chapter xv. sec. 1. of Gibbon's Decline 
 and Fall.) 
 
224 
 
 ' Cicero (de Legibus, c. ii., 8. 8.) gives us the follow- 
 ing extract from the most ancient laws of Rome. " Let 
 no one have any separate worship, nor hold any new 
 gods ; neither to strange gods, unless they have been 
 publicly adopted, let any private worship be offered ; 
 men should attend the temples erected by their ancestors, 
 &c." From Livy (b. iv., c. 30) we learn that about 430 
 years before Christ orders were given to the (Ediles to 
 see ** that none except Roman gods were worshipped, nor 
 in any other than the established forms." Somewhat 
 more than 200 years after this edict, to crush certain 
 external rites which were then becoming common in the 
 city, the following edict was published: — "that whoever 
 possesses books of oracle, or prayer, or any written act 
 of sacrifice, deliver all such books and writings to the 
 Praetor before the calends of April ; and that no one 
 sacrifice on public or sacred ground after new or 
 foreign rites." But it may seem needless to produce 
 separate instances, when, from the same historian, 
 (b. xxxix. c. 16) we learn that it had been customary in 
 all the early ages of the republic, to empower the magis- 
 trates " to prevent all foreign worship, to expel its 
 ministers from the forum, the circus, and the city, to 
 search for and burn the religious books (vaticinos Hbros), 
 and to abolish every form of sacrifice except the national 
 and established form." 
 
 The authority of Livy is confirmed by that of Valerius 
 Maximus, who wrote under the Emperor Tiberius, and 
 bears testimony to the jealousy with which all foreign 
 religions were prohibited by the Roman republic (b. i., 
 c. 3). That the same principle, which bad been conse- 
 crated by the practice of seven hundred years was not 
 discontinued by the Emperors, is clearly attested by the 
 historian, Dio Cassius (p. 490 — 2). It appears that 
 Maecaenas, in the most earnest terms, exhorted Augustus 
 " to hate and punish" all foreign religions, and to compel 
 
225 
 
 all men to conform to the national worship ; and we are 
 assured that the scheme of government thus proposed, 
 was pursued by Augustus, and adopted by his suc- 
 cessors. 
 
 Now, from the first of the passages before us it ap- 
 pears, that all right of private judgment in matters of 
 religion was expressly forbidden by an original law of 
 Rome, which was never repealed. We know not what 
 stronger proof it would be possible to adduce of the in- 
 herent intolerance of Roman Polytheism. The four 
 next references prove to us that the ancient law, 
 subversive of the most obvious right of human nature, 
 was strictly acted upon during the long continuance of 
 the commonwealth.' 
 
 Rev. G. TVaddington's Histoiy of the Church, chapter iv. sub 
 init. (In the Library of Useful Knowledge.) 
 
 Note 4. — p. 61. 
 
 That persecution is the result of an evil spirit, rather 
 than of any particular opinions, may be still further 
 illustrated by the following remarks. 
 
 An authority which will not be suspected of any leaning 
 towards Christianity, UEnci/clopedief under the article 
 Intolerant, justly says, ' The intolerant person ought to 
 be regarded in every place of the world as a man who 
 sacrifices the spirit and the precepts of his religion to 
 his pride ; he is the rash character who thinks that the 
 arch must be sustained by his hands ; persecutors are 
 generally meti without religion, and who find it more 
 easy to manifest zeal, than to acquire excellence.* 
 
 There is reason to believe that in many cases persons 
 holding infidel opinions have, under the cloak and pre- 
 text of religion, manifested a persecuting spirit. It is 
 of the philosophers of the age of the Antonines — an 
 age in which philosophy itself was seen associated with 
 
226 
 
 the practice of persecution, that Gibbon speaks in the 
 following passage — a passage which, with but too many 
 others in his celebrated work, will perpetuate the dis- 
 honesty of the writer's mind, as long as his genius shall 
 secure the popularity of the work : — ' Viewing with a 
 smile of pity and indulgence, the various errors of the 
 vulgar, they diligently practised the ceremonies of their 
 fathers, devoutly frequented the temple of the god«; 
 and sometimes condescending to act a part in the theatre 
 of superstition, they concealed the sentiments of an 
 Atheist under the sacerdotal robes' So then, Atheists 
 themselves have been persecutors. If the criminality 
 of persecution can be enhanced, it is, surely, in the case 
 of those who have no religious convictions for the fur- 
 therance of which to be solicitous. 
 
 I am not ignorant of the services which Voltaire and 
 others of the French philosophical school of the 18th 
 century, rendered to the cause of religious toleration, 
 by the exposition and enforcement of many of its most 
 important principles. For this work— a work specially 
 needed in their day and country, I yield to no one in the 
 meed of praise which I award to them. But it is possi- 
 ble to defend toleration in an intolerant spirit, and to 
 persecute with the very pen with which you assail per- 
 secution. And that several of these philosophers acted 
 in this way, the reader may easily learn by reference to 
 their writings, and especially to that more intimate and 
 confidential expression of their feelings which their 
 correspondence with each other exhibits. See Diderot, 
 Correspondence; and Grimm, Correspondence litteraire. 
 Extracts from the correspondence of Voltaire with 
 jyAlcmhcrt and others, may be found in the 17th vol. 
 of Priestley's Works by Rutt, where that true Christian 
 and eminent philosopher has rightly characterised the 
 scoffing, disdainful, not to say inhuman spirit which these 
 men frequently displayed. Of the nature of Voltaire's 
 
227 
 
 attack on religion, some idea may be formed from the 
 following passage, translated from a work in which he 
 is highly eulogized— De I' influence de la phUosophie du 
 18^ sieclej by E. Lerminer. * Voltaire felt that it was 
 necessary to conquer or die; he courted kings and 
 nobles, but was implacable towards his literary adversa- 
 ries, and the knights of the Church, and of darkness. 
 He gave them neither quarter nor mercy ; he cut their 
 throat in the breach. The moment he has overthrown 
 the imprudent person who has offered himself to his 
 blows, he insults and degrades him, strips him of his 
 dignity, even if in the struggle he loses some of his 
 own. He rallies in every tone and in every style. He 
 mocks and outrages his adversary ; he stuns him by his 
 bitter and discordant clamours ; he astounds, and stupi- 
 fies him, and tortures him by the inexhaustible abundance 
 of his insulting mockery. Still more closely does he 
 press his enemy : grapples and chokes him, throws 
 him in the dust, and rolls about with him ; a mortal 
 struggle ensues. Sometimes Voltaire appears van- 
 quished, but he rises again ; he thrusts into the very 
 depth of the wounds he has given, his pitiless irony, as 
 a cutting sword ; he sings the pcean of victory, and 
 increases by his vengeance his titles to immortality. 
 Montesquieu carried, even into his pleasantry, a native 
 majesty; Voltaire triumphed by his cynical spirit, by his 
 fury, and by his revolting mockery, which is a corrod- 
 ing and deadly poison.* 
 
 The author of the article, D 'Akmhert in the Penny 
 Cyclopwdia, remarks — ' When we blame the two latter 
 (Diderot and Voltaire), it is not for the opinions they 
 held, but for their offensive manner of expressing them, 
 and the odious intolerance of all opinions except their 
 own which runs through their writings. Men of the 
 best and of the worst Hves appeared to be equally offen- 
 sive to them, if they professed Christianity.' 
 
228 
 
 * Neither Voltaire, the master, nor D^Alemhert, the 
 disciple/ says Priestley, * would have been much dis- 
 pleased if some mischief ^had befallen their enemies, and 
 it would have given them some pleasure to have pro- 
 moted it.' He then gives an illustration or two of this 
 remark. * There is,' says Voltaire, * a friar, who has a 
 farm on my estate at Tournay. He comes hither some- 
 times. I promise myself the pleasure of putting him in 
 the pillory as soon as I am well ; a pleasantry which 
 philosophers may take with such priests, without being 
 persecutors, as they are.' J) '^ZemSer/ manifests a not 
 dissimilar disposition. Of a letter by Voltaire^ he says, 
 ' I shed tears over it; I read it again and again, and 
 concluded with wishing to see all the fanatics in the fire 
 into which they wished to throw other people.' And 
 the infidel King of Prussia, Frederic, says, in a letter 
 to Voltaire, * I would make the tonsured executioners 
 who persecute you, disappear from the face of the earth, 
 if it was in my power to efiect it.' * This,' adds Priest- 
 ley, * was not the sentiment of Christ or the apostles. 
 Jesus exhorted his disciples to bless them that curse 
 you, and to pray for them that despitcfully use you and 
 persecute you. And Paul advised his converts not to 
 render evil for evil, but to overcome evil with good.'— 
 Priestley's Works, vol. xvii. pp. 64-5. Voltaire him- 
 self has expressly declared what would bo the nature of 
 the toleration which philosophers would allow were they 
 in power ; — * they will render the fanatics abominable, 
 and the superstitious ridiculous.'— Quoted in Priestley, 
 ut supra. 
 
 * At the very commencement of his (Tycho Brahe) 
 journey, however, an event occurred in which the impe- 
 tuosity of his temper had nearly cost him his life. At a 
 wedding-feast in Rostock, a questionable point in geo- 
 metry involved him in a dispute with a Danish noble- 
 man of the same temperament with himself; and the two 
 
229 
 
 mathematicians resolved to settle the difference by the 
 sword. Tycho, however, seems to have beea second in 
 the conflict, for he lost the greater part of his nose, 
 and was obliged to supply its place by a substitute of 
 gold and silver, which a cement of glue attached to his 
 face.' 
 
 Sir D. Brewster's Life of Sir Isaac Newton, cliap. x. 
 
 Note 5. — p. 96. 
 
 After this Discourse was written, my attention was 
 more forcibly directed than it had been, to what is called 
 ' The Religion of the New Moral World' ; and I looked 
 with considerable interest into it, as being a professed 
 exhibition of the religion of Socialism ; not without a 
 hope that I might find, at least, an indirect recantation 
 of some of Mr. Owen's grossest errors. There is, how- 
 ever, no brightening of the dark picture. The very title, 
 'Religion of the New Moral World,' is a misnomer. 
 Religion is either the sentiment which binds the human 
 heart to a Primary Creative Intelligence, or it is * The 
 Whole Duty of Man,' deduced from the relations which 
 he sustains to that Intelligence. Of neither of these 
 things is one word said in the piece. Its ' Religion' is 
 nothing more than a transcript of Socialist morality — a 
 transcript, designated by the name of religion, for rea- 
 sons best understood by the party whence the confession 
 oi faith (!) proceeded. 
 
 From this publication I learn, that the existence even 
 of an * unknown cause* is nothing but a * probable con- 
 jecture,' for I read in it — ' Human knowledge is not 
 sufficiently advanced to enable the children of the New 
 Moral World to express more than probable conjectures 
 respecting the Supreme Povv^er of the universe.' Among, 
 however, the modest * conjectures ' of this exposition, 
 one is, that the * attributes' of the ' unknov/n cause' are 
 probably * those laws of nature by which, at all times, 
 
 u 
 
230 
 
 in all places, the operations of the universe are inces- 
 santly continued.' The knowledge which Socialism ex- 
 hibits of the nature of evidence, and the grounds of our 
 intellectual and moral know^ledge, may also be gathered 
 from the profound remark, that *■ man knows the forms 
 and qualities of those existences around him, only so 
 far as his senses have been made to perceive them.' 
 AVhat form or what quality of ' the existences around 
 him' did Mr. Owen ever learn from the exclusive ope- 
 ration of his senses ? Such a writer requires to be put 
 into the Horn Book of intellectual science. And yet 
 this is the person, who is to overturn and re-construct 
 society all over the world ! Surely, however, the 
 Socialist doubter departs from the modesty of ' pro- 
 bable conjecture,' and rivals the dogmatic assumption 
 of the boldest a priori sophist of ancient and modern 
 times, when he says — ' That if this Power had desired to 
 make the nature of its existence known to man, it would 
 liave enabled him to comprehend it without mystery or 
 doubt.' Yet Mr. Owen, in other publications, declares 
 it to be an impossibility for the finite to comprehend the 
 infinite. Now, however, not only is this impossibility 
 denied by implication, but Mr. Owen, in some way, 
 has got to know what the unknown Power — * it is of 
 no importance whether men call it matter or spirit'— to 
 know what this unknown matter or unknown spirit, 
 ' would have' done, had it * desired' a certain result,— 
 ' tanquam mode ex deorum concilio, et ex Epicuri 
 intermundiis descendisset,' as if, like IMaliomet, he had 
 just come down to earth from tlie council-chamber of 
 his unknown power, whose attributes arc the laws of 
 nature I 
 
 But the writer is by no means sure — it is unbe- 
 coming a Socialist philosopher to be sure of any thing, 
 but of the omnipotence of circumstances, and that man 
 is * the chief of animals'— whether there be one or more 
 
231 
 
 unknown causes, for I read, * the creating power or 
 powers (how many?) will be universally called God in 
 the New Moral World.' This looks like an approach 
 to the * superstition/ of ' the old, irrational world,' — 
 but why will it or they be so designated ? Has, then, 
 Socialism 'found out' the Deity? By no means. 
 The designation is a mere conventionalism ; and surely 
 such a resource is unworthy the dignity of a philosophy 
 which is so strict in its modes of enquiry as to abjure 
 every thing but what man's ' senses have been made to 
 perceive.' As, however, * names alter nothing' — so may 
 the name God be used if convenient (for what? to 
 allure the unwary ?). These are the assigned reasons for 
 adopting the name without the idea, — ' for the conve- 
 nience of discourse' — (why discourse about the un- 
 known ?) and ' the term God is, perhaps, as unexcep- 
 tionable for this purpose as any that can be employed, 
 because it has the recommendatioji of general use in its 
 favour.^ 
 
 It has been asserted by Socialists that their system is 
 independent of any particular opinions as to religion, 
 and, consequently, that it should be considered apart 
 from any reference whatever to the subject. Some of 
 Mr. Owen's adherents may be of this way of thinking ; 
 others boldly proclaim themselves the unsparing foes of 
 religion, especially of Christianity ; but respecting Mr. 
 Owen's own ideas in this matter there is no room for 
 doubt. It w^ould be easy to increase the evidence sup- 
 plied in the Lectures themselves, — but the following 
 will suffice : — In 1820, Mr. Owen gave a challenge ' to 
 the Clergy of New Orleans,' in which he says ' I have 
 now finished a course of lectures in this city, the princi- 
 ples of which are in direct opposition to those which 
 you have been taught it your duty to preach.' * I pro- 
 pose to prove (in the discussion), as I have already 
 attempted to do in my lectures, that all the religions of 
 
232 
 
 the world have been founded on the ignorance of man- 
 kind ; that they are directly opposed to the never- chang- 
 ing laws of our nature ; that they have been, and are 
 the real source of vice, disunion, and misery of every 
 description ; that they are now the only real bar to the 
 formation of a society of virtue, of intelligence, of 
 charity, in its most extended sense, and of sincerity and 
 kindness among the whole human family ; and that they 
 can be no longer maintained except through the igno- 
 rance of the mass of the people, and the tyranny of the 
 few over that mass.' 
 
 Note 6.— p. 120. 
 The Five Fundamental Facts which constitute the 
 Social philosopliy of the formation of character, are as 
 follows : extracted from ' The Social Bible^ by Robert 
 Owen.' 
 
 ' 1st. That man is a compound being, whose character is 
 formed of his constitution or organisation at birth, and 
 of the effects of external circumstances upon it, from 
 birth to death; such original organisation and external 
 influences continually acting and re- acting each upon 
 the other. 
 
 ' 2nd. That man is compelled by his original constitution 
 to receive his feelings and his convictions independent 
 of his 7vilL 
 
 ' 3rd. That his feelings, or his convictions, or both of them 
 united, create the motive to action called the wi//, 
 which stimulates him to act, and decides his actions. 
 
 ' 4th. That the organisation of no two human beings is 
 ever precisely similar at birth, nor can art subsequently 
 form any two individuals, from infancy to maturity, 
 to be the same. 
 
 * 5th. That nevertheless the constitution of every infant, 
 except in case of organic disease, is capable of being 
 formed or matured either into a very inferior or a icry 
 
233 
 
 superior being, according to the qualities of the ex- 
 ternal circumstances allowed to influence that consti- 
 tution from birth.' 
 
 By the first it appears that character consists of the 
 
 * organisation at birth,' and of * the effects of external cir- 
 cumstances,* which two influences the second and third 
 fact represent as giving rise to all that man is, namely, 
 his * feelings,' his * convictions,' his 'will,' and his 
 
 * actions.' Man, then, is formed of his * organisation 
 at birth/ and ' external circumstances.' It must be 
 noticed that no influence whatever is ascribed to his 
 organisation at any other period. It is ' organisation at 
 birth' on which circumstances act, and it is this same 
 
 * organisation at birth' which reacts on * external circum- 
 stances.' What is this but to make * external circum- 
 stances' the sole creator of the lot of man ? At birth 
 there is no mental or moral development. The mental 
 and moral capacities are latent. Even the senses are 
 unopened and uneducated. The new-born infant, in 
 regard to actual power, is in a condition inferior to that 
 of the young of animals, alive only to the sensations of 
 internal pleasure or pain, and the influence of ' external 
 circumstances.' Whatever, therefore, the child becomes 
 is not owing in any degree to internal capabilities, but 
 to * external circumstances.' They make him all that 
 in any future period of his life he may prove to be, and 
 they make him such by an irresistible necessity, for 
 man ' is compelled by his original constitution' — by this 
 
 * organisation at birth' — ' to receive his feelings and 
 his convictions' — and * his feelings or his convictions, 
 or both of them united, create the motive to action, 
 called the will, which stimulates him to act and decides 
 his actions.' Could a lower description be given of the 
 origin and formation of the powers of any brute animal '( 
 Mind, in this system, goes for nothing. It is not taken 
 into the account : it has no independent existence. Can 
 
 2u 
 
234 
 
 it be said to have any existence at all ? Whatever en- 
 sues is the creation of circumstances acting on his 
 merely animal ' organisation at birth.' Whether or not, 
 however, mind is admitted by this sage philosophy, it is 
 obviously nothing more than the blind, passive subject, 
 offspring, and slave of ' external circumstances.' 
 
 These remarks are made, not merely to add another 
 exhibition of the absurdity, the low and degrading sensu- 
 alism of this revolutionising doctrine, but also to show 
 that in the lecture on the subject, I have not confuted a 
 shadow of my own imagination. My belief is, indeed, 
 that in placing the main issue on the question as to 
 which is the predominant influence in the formation of 
 man's lot, matter or mind, the world within or the world 
 without the breast, I have rather given Socialism an 
 undeserved advantage. 
 
 As Mr. Owen assumes the character of a philosopher, 
 he must not be dissatisfied if I add that, in his second 
 * Fact,' he would have stated his own doctrine more 
 correctly, if, instead of ' independently,' he had said 
 that man * is compelled to receive his feelings and his 
 convictions' anteriorly * to his will ' ; for it is obviously 
 his notion that man's will is not independent, but the 
 result, the creation of his feelings and convictions. But 
 this is only one among many proofs of Mr. Owen's ina- 
 bility to write with precision on his favorite topics. 
 
 I have had occasion to remark, more than once, that 
 Mr. Owen states, but does not prove, his ' Facts and 
 Laws.' The fourth ' Fact' presents as clear an instance 
 of gratuitous assumption, taking him on his own prin- 
 ciples, as the most dogmatic school of philosophy, or 
 the most implicit superstition can present. ' Tlie orga- 
 nisation of no two human beings is ever precisely the 
 same at birth.' How can Mr. Owen know this ? Ap- 
 pearances, at least, are against liim, even if by orga- 
 nisation he should be pleased to mean nothing more than 
 
235 
 
 the outward members of the body ; in all cases they are 
 substantially the same. As to the internal organisation, 
 who knows or can know any thing of it;, except, indeed, 
 the anatomist. But what can he teach Mr. Owen in 
 regard to the latent elements of character? In respect 
 of these there is ' at birth' no manifestation whatever. 
 The time, then, has not come to judge of what they are ; 
 and when the time has come for other men to form an 
 opinion, Mr. Owen is without the means, for every 
 thing but ' the organisation at birth,* has, according to 
 him, been created by circumstances in such a way that 
 the human being has been ' compelled to receive' all 
 that has been superadded to his ' organisation at birth.' 
 
 If any doubt could after this remain of the nature and 
 extent of the power which Owenism ascribes to ' exter- 
 nal circumstances,' a reference to the fifth ' Fact' would 
 dissipate it, for there the formation of the character, 
 whatever it prove, whether * a very inferior or a very 
 superior being,' is exclusively ascribed to the operation 
 of ' the external circumstances allowed to influence 
 that constitution from birth.' For myself, therefore, I 
 cannot see, so far as Owenism goes, why its * Father' 
 should not form a superior being out of an idiotic, as 
 well as any other infant. It has its organisation at 
 birth for external circumstances to act upon, and, as 
 Owenism takes the organisation at birth for one element 
 of character, it has no means of knowing whether the 
 rudiments of mind are in the infant or not ; idiotcy does 
 not always show itself at birth by signs of * organic 
 disease,* and ' organic disease,' is the only exception 
 made to the universal ' Fact.' 
 
 Note 7.— p. 173. 
 To the instances given and referred to in the text, of 
 the esteem in which unbeHevers have held the character 
 of our Lord, I add the following, taken from ' An 
 
236 
 
 Enquiry concerning the origin of Christianity ^ hy 
 Charles C Hennell,' — a work which serves to show that 
 all the resources of a perverted ingenuity can do little 
 more than display the wish to injure the basis on which 
 the Christian's faith and hopes repose. As a ielum 
 imbelle sine ictu, the book is not unworthy of the theo- 
 logical student's notice. 
 
 * Whatever be the spirit with which the four Gospels 
 be approached, it is impossible to rise from the attentive 
 perusal of them without a strong veneration for Jasus 
 Christ. Even the disposition to cavil and ridicule is 
 forced to retire before the majestic simplicity of the 
 Prophet of Nazareth. Unlike Moses or Mahomet, he 
 owes no part of the lustre which surrounds him to his 
 acquisition of temporal power : his is the ascendancy 
 which mankind, in proportion to their mental advance- 
 ment, are least disposed to resist — that of moral and 
 intellectual greatness. Besides, his cruel fate engages 
 men's affections on his behalf, and gives him an additional 
 hold upon their allegiance. A virtuous reformer and 
 sage, martyred by crafty priests and brutal soldiers, is a 
 spectacle which forces men to gaze in pity and admira- 
 tion. The precepts from such a source come with an 
 authoritv which no human laws could give ; and Jesus 
 is more powerful on the cross of Calvary, than he would 
 have been on the throne of Israel !' 
 
 Note 8.— p. 148. 
 
 It may serve to throw light on the language and 
 tone which I have occasionally employed, in describing 
 the anti-religious and anti-social tendencies of Social- 
 ism, if I here collect a few of the flowers of speech 
 which Socialist writers scatter abundantly in their 
 writings : — 
 
 ' Now almost all who are in the married state are 
 daily and liourly practising the deepest deception, and 
 
237 
 
 living in the grossest prostitution of body and mind,* 
 * The marriages of the world — this accursed thing— are 
 the sole cause of all the prostitution, and of more than 
 one half of all the vilest and most degrading crimes known 
 to society.' * It is a Satanic device of the Priesthood 
 to place and keep mankind within their slavish super- 
 stitions/ * Real genuine chastity is a sentiment and a 
 feeling far too elevated and refined for their (the Priest- 
 hood) ignorant and gross conceptions, or they could 
 never have artificially tied bodies in their bonds of 
 wedlock, and then said — " Be you united, mind and 
 body for life, or be miserable in this world, and ever- 
 lastingly damned in the next." ' ^ The children within 
 those dens (* single families') of selfishness and hypo- 
 crisy.' * The whole of these single family proceedings, 
 from their commencement to their dissolution by the 
 death of the parent, are one continued compound of 
 absurdity, folly, and wickedness, daily added to wicked- 
 ness, absurdity, and folly.' * The consequence of the 
 doctrine that man has the power to believe and feel as 
 he pleases, has kept the human race in a state of barba- 
 rism under different forms, more or less brutal, and 
 made the earth one scene of deception, hatred, and 
 violence, a place of torment, a pandemonium.' * The 
 books, made to contain these so called revelations, 
 from an unknown supreme power, although written, 
 some by cunning, and others by very ordinary-minded 
 men, were called sacred and divine ; terms invented to 
 impose on the ignorant multitude by those more learned, 
 who first used them to deceive, and, if possible, to 
 enforce a blind belief upon all succeeding generations 
 in these infantine tales, that they might be received, 
 without thought or reflexion, as unerringly true.' 
 * These so called civil professions (* divines, lawyers, 
 and medical men') are real enemies, and formidable 
 ones too, to the human race. They destroy the minds 
 
238 
 
 and morals of all, and materially injure the health of 
 all ; they are, in fact, the cause of all the deception 
 and hypocrisy which spoil the human character, and 
 make the earth a pandemonium.' ' Religion and war 
 have not only existed together, but they have mutually 
 supported each other/ * Servants and slaves, or opera- 
 tives, are, under existing arrangements, the efficient 
 producers of all that is usefully produced, and doers of 
 all that is usefully done.' ' Religion — a name under 
 which are daily perpetrated the most melancholy and 
 horrid evils throughout all the nations of the earth.' 
 
 All these — it would be easy to multiply instances — 
 some too revolting to be transcribed — are the words of 
 Mr. Owen himself. Repeatedly does he charge the 
 world with insanity ; — who is insane ? If numbers are 
 to determine, Mr. Owen's chance of acquittal is not 
 very great. Yet monstrosities like the foregoing, are 
 propagated with a burning zeal, and received with 
 implicit credence. We proceed with our Fhrilcgium 
 O/vense. ' Now, if I prove that there is no wisdom in 
 it (tlie Bible), neither finite nor infinite ; that so far 
 from wisdom it is a mass of gross ignorance and despi- 
 cable nonsense — if, I say, I prove tliis, then it must fol- 
 low that it is not the word of God ; that it is not a pro- 
 duction of infinite wisdom ; and that therefore you (the 
 Clergy) in telling the human race that it is, are telling 
 them a downright falsehood.' — Ilaslam. ' The Bible is 
 a mass of dirty trash and blasphemous nonsense.' — Id. 
 It (the sale of his Letters to the Clergy) shows to me that 
 human beings are at last disposed to cleanse tlieir minds 
 from the grossness and filth which have so long filled 
 them, and that they will no longer submit to the delu- 
 sions of men calling themselves ministers of the gospel, 
 nor to the impositions and plunderings of men calling 
 themselves governments.' — Id. 
 
 * But thanks to the Sovereignty of Knowledge, we 
 
239 
 
 have no fear that these spiritual houses— these artificial 
 nuisances — will continue, when ignorance, or the neces- 
 sity that gave birth to them, has ceased to exist. Al- 
 ready has the fiat gone forth, and the fabric of folly and 
 of superstition totters to its base.' — Horton, * Communi- 
 ty — the only real and substantial salvation. And it will 
 be eternal too, for when once it begins, there will be no 
 end to it.* — Id. * But, says the pious maniac — " look 
 not to the things that are seen and temporal," ' &c.— . 
 Id, * They (Socialists) would die as they had lived, 
 happy in the proud consciousness of their own worth,* 
 (Yet merit and demerit are denied !) — Id, ' If we refer 
 to the annals of this, or any other Christian community, 
 we shall find that all the evil, bloodshed, and confusion, 
 by which the page of history is stained, are easily trace- 
 able to the domination of the Christian church.' — Id, 
 ' It never has done good, and has always done harm, 
 and ever will, so long as it exists. Wherever Chris- 
 tianity has found its way, slavery and oppression have 
 followed in the rear.* — Id. * The nonsense contained 
 in the book called the New Testament.' — Id. * And if 
 even there should be a future tribunal, I would rest my 
 claims on the favour of heaven on the fact, that I had 
 spurned that absurd, unjust, and immoral book as a libel 
 upon the immutable Godhead.' * If men are either dis- 
 honest or poor, it is the operation of the monstrous and 
 iniquitous Christian system of religion, morals, and poli- 
 tics that has made them so.* — Id. ' That man (Mr. Owen) 
 who, above all others, seems worthy of being called the 
 benefactor and real saviour of the human race.' — Id. 
 ' After an inquiry into their (the Christian world) acts 
 and deeds, past and present, the inevitable answer is, 
 that they are rank hypocrites and practical scoffers ; 
 shepherds and flocks alike proving themselves to be, in 
 the lump, as free from Christianity as Pagans, who never 
 heard the word Christ uttered.' — New Moral World, 
 
240 
 
 No, 208. * Wlnt docs it avail to tell the clergy that 
 tlicy teach pestiferous and impoverishing errors ? They 
 know it better tlian it can bo told tlioni. What docs it 
 avail to tell them that they are a besotted, voluptuous, 
 carnal-minded set of *' miserable sinners"? They to 
 vvlioni these epithets apply, make a merit of the ac- 
 knovvlodginent; it is one of the tricks of their trade/-/(f. 
 ' And in this new world there will bo no marriages of 
 the priest, or giving in marriage.*— Ow^n. * It will be 
 more in accordance with common sense and witli virtue, 
 for Natuue, when man and woman shall be trained to 
 bo rational creatures, to direct her own proceedings, and 
 to decide upon her own operations' (in regard to the con- 
 tinuation of the human species). — Id. * Then will 
 Nature not bo interrupted in her wise course by man's 
 inexperience, and the intercourse of the sexes will be 
 solely under the guidance of Nature, and not of the 
 priests' irrational devices and laws.' — Id. * There are 
 many parties in the country \\'aiting anxiously for our 
 couunencing operations; but it would bo quite useless 
 for us to begin, until the subject of maninij^c, private 
 property, and rr/ii^jon bo properly understood by those 
 about to enter upon a rational state of society. Many 
 persons conceive that nothing can bo easier than to 
 establish a commimity ; but no community has yet been 
 begun which did not consist of married couples. I hive 
 known from the first that no such practice could succeed , 
 as the interest of private families is quite opposed to 
 that of a number of equally free and intellig^ent indi- 
 viduals.' — Id. Yet with this knowledge Mr. Owen is, 
 at the present moment, inducing persons to 'go into 
 community.* Are * married couples* to be altogether 
 refused, or is the wife to bo previously dismissed ? 
 riMS. 
 
 Forrat and IWf. rrinUrt.