VOICES OF THE SOUL
ANSWERED IN
GOD.
BY
REV. JOHN RE I D.
NEW YORK:
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS,
530  BR OADWAY.
1 6 6.




ebntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the
Southern District of New York.
Stereotyped by SMITII & MCDOUGAL, 82 & 84 Beekman Street.




NOTE.
THE manuscript of the present work was read
by Tayler Lewis, LL.D., and by William G. T.
Shedd, D.D. Their views in regard to it are expressed in the following statements:Prof. Lewis says: "I am glad that I retained
your manuscript until I had read the second half.
My interest in the work increased at every page,
and I can sincerely express to you my opinion that
it has a substantial value, both of thought and
style, that ought to commend it to all thoughtful
readers. The charm of your book to me is its
continuous flow of most serious and impressive
thoughts. I would not hesitate to compare the last
chapter with anything I have read from Bushnell
or Isaac Taylor; thoughts of the highest order are
expressed in a fitting style of language. Your
work cannot fail to be popular in the best sense of
the word, because it so reveals each reader's mind
to himself."




Vi                 NOTE.
Professor Shedd thus writes: "I return your
manuscript to-day by express, and am much
obliged to you for the opportunity of perusing it.
It is a work of originality and power. This is the
impression which it has made upon me, and made
with energy. I have rarely perused"a treatise
which has issued so evidently as this has from prolonged searching reflection, and strong earnest
conviction. You have discussed the serious themes
of evangelical religion in a manner that invests
them with fresh interest for the believer and also
for the unbeliever. For your method is psychological. The appeal to consciousness is direct, continual, and. penetrating; so that both the natural
and spiritual man will be interested, each in his
own way. No educated person, be he Christian or
skeptic, will fail to read your book through, if he
begins it. Without committing myself to every
particular in the work, it is my belief that it will
prove to be a valuable addition to our religious lit.
erature."




PREFACE TO THIE THIRD EDITION.
WITH the exception of a change in a few words,
the third edition is the same as the first. A hint
respecting the plan of the work, we simply offer in
this place.
The soul needs a way to reach God; a way to become holy, a way to become happy. Hence the book
is divided into three parts; and it is shown how the
wants of the mind can be met in a Redeemer, Restorer
and Satisfier. Mediation must come first, then restcration, then satisfaction.  This is the order of nature,
and this we have followed. The treatise is to be
taken as a whole, and is to be read from the beginning to the end, in order to receive the impression
that is aimed at. Although the immediate aim is to
connect the soul and God together, yet every one can
see that that revolves itself into another thought, vii.,
that the doctrine of the book being true, the Christian
religion is the only hope of man. By that he finds a
complete ransom, a complete cure, and a complete
blessedness. The work, therefore, is really an indirect argument for the truth of Christianity.
I may be asked whether the VOICES OF THE SOUL
be those of simple nature, or nature as touched by that
which is Divine?  To answer this, in every case, is
not easy. To what extent redemptive agencies affect
19)




X        PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.
the souls of the entire race, no one can tell. It may
}le that broken and bent rays from a higher world
glimmer in the darkest human spirit that is to be
found upon this earth.  An abstract, natural rmain
may not exist; one whose development is carried forward outside of any influence from Calvary may not
be found.  However this may be, the men where
Christianity is known are manifestly moved by it to
a greater or less extent. What I would say, then, is
this: the rudimnents of the VOICES OF THE SOUL are
found in all; but their strength and peculiar form
are the result of redemptive forces. Apart from any
change of heart, and before any change of heart,
there is a work performed by Divine truth and the
Divine Spirit. God leads men to cry and lament,
and then he places before them the remedy they need.




PREFACE.
THERE are two words that are much used at
present-the words infinite and finite. These may
be said to characterize modern thinking. The
people as yet are content with the words God
and man. They sometimes, however, speak of the
human and the divine, or the natural and the supernatural, catching these words from a class of minds
that are wont to fence with them. It is evident that
we are in the midst of a great discussion,-a discussion that touches upon the highest and holiest
themes of existence. Whether we have a Christian
redemption and a Christian God are the points that
are to be settled. No good man need be afraid
that the religion in which he has trusted is about
to slip away from beneath him, as if it were like
some island of the deep that had been carefully
surveyed and its exact place set down in the chart,
while all at once it sinks to rise not again. We
have no fears respecting the fate of Christianity.
Almost are we thankful for the assaults that are




V1ii              PREFACE.
made upon it, as these tend but to make manifest
its divine durability. The fiercer the attack, the
more complete and successful the repulse.
Calm, considerate thinking is just now much
needed. Many are earnest, warlike, but not sufficiently awed and controlled by the tremendous
issues of life. A deeper insight into human nature
and a more profound conception of the Godhead
are the wants of the time. As it respects the ultimate bearing of the present treatise, that will be
perceived by an attentive perusal of it. The soul
is taken as it is, and the attempt is made to find
that in God which will meet and match it.




CONTENTS.
PART I.
VOICES    OF   THE   SOUL ANSWERED         IN  GOD    THE
REDEEMER.
CHAPTER I.
AN INCARNATION OF GOD A WANT OF MIND.
PAGA
If God can create, he can become incarnate.-The soul views
God in two ways,-as an infinite Spirit, and as human-like.Man wants a person.-Old Testament theophanies.-Mediation in nature a prophecy of mediatorial movement in the
Godhead.-Tendency in the Deity to become incarnate.Man a want; God a filness.-All intelligences need an incarnation.-Would there be an incarnation if no sin?-Sin an
additional call for an incarnation.-The incarnation of God a
fact.-Originality of the New Testament idea of a God-man.
-Problem   of Christ's life.-Was Jesus always conscious of
his divinity?-Will the incarnation be eternal?............ 19
CHAPTER It.
DEEP CONVICTION OF SIN: NEED OF A DIVINE SAVIOUR.
Small sin, small redemption: great sin, great redemption.Deep consciousness of sin by Edwards.-Theology of Augustine had a subjective grounding.-Feeling an aid to faith.1*




t~~X ~            CONTENTS.
PAGB
Characteristics of deep conviction, and how they reach out
for the Divine:-Sadness-Tntensified aspirations-FearPain-Sense of weakness-Tendency to despair-these mental states demand an Almighty Saviour................... 43
CHAPTER III.
CONSCIOUSNESS OF GUILT: NEED OF DIVINE ATONEMENT.
SECTION I.
THE WORKING OF GUILT.
Guilt connected with a sense of sin and justice.-Guilt retrospective-Prospective-Tlhe past and the future meet in a
present.-Guilty mind afraid of God..................... 61
SECTION I.
A DIVINE ATONEMENT NEEDED TO MEET THE CLAIMS OF GUILT.
Atonement must be viewed with reference to guilt as well as
government.-First, as guilt arises because of a broken law,
law must be kept before conscience can be quieted.-Secondly, as man fears the future because justice is against him, he
can only have peace by the satisfaction of justice.-Thirdly,
as God is feared, God must be appeased.-A three-fold attempt
of man to meet these demands: Makes confession-Tries to
make restitution-Offers sacrifice.-These not sufficient;
hence the need of a divine atonement..................... 74
CHAPTER IV.
LAW   BROKEN: THE DIVINE SUSTAINER OF LAW.
SECTION I.
MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.
Implied that man is a subject of moral law.-Conscience not
character.-Approbation of conscience not the same as appro



CONTENTS.                        Xi
PAGE
bation of the heart.-Laws of conscience.-Man under obligation to keep the law.-Laws of obligation.-Man has broken the law.-Mau therefore demeritorious................ 85
SECTION II.
THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW.
Law must be sustained by love. All that the God-man did and
suffered was at the bidding of love. Its peculiarities: First,
was unique.-Secondly, no finite being could demand the
manifestation of this love.-Thirdly, the love is inimitable.How the righteousness of Christ meets the wants of the
sinner...............................................  101
CHAPTER V.
PUNISHMENT APPREHENDED: THE DIVINE SUFFERER.
SECTION I.
THE SOUL S PROPHECY OF FUTURE MISERY.
Divine punishment in eternity that the soul fears; not conscience.
-Proofs that there is another punishment besides conscience:
1. Belief in divine rewards. 2. In divine punishments. 3. If
conscience all, no positive government. 4. Also no accountability to God. 5. Premium offered to crime.-Statement of
natural punishment....................................  114
SECTION II.
THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.
An innocent person has suffered.-How this when God is just?
-That Christ suffered to show an example does not meet the
problem.-The depth of his sufferings.-Must have suffered in
the room of the guilty.-Sufferings of the God-man as related
to the punishment of man: 1. Most of punishment held back
from all upon earth. 2. Faith cancels future punishment. 3.
Finally  impenitent not saved............................  129




Xii                      CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VI.
HUMAN SORROW: TIHEl DIVINE SYMPATHIZER.
SECTION I.
THE VOICE OF SORROW.
rPou
Import of sorrow seldom reached.-Belongs to the higher nature of man.-Bad circumstances do not cause it: good circumstances do not remove it.-Solitude in sorrow. —-Unconscious sorrow.-Affinity of sorrow for soft sounds.-Joy as
connected with sorrow.-Discipline of sorrow............. 14'7
SECTION II.
THE GOD-MAN A, SYMPATHIZER.
Sympathy of Christ due to a certain delicacy of soul.-Inviting
quality of his sympathy.-Manly and womanly elements of
Christ's character as affecting his sympathy.-Symbolism  in
the life of Christ in its bearings upon the general subject.-  163
His temptation.-Solitude of Jesus.-Man of sorrows.-His
serenity......................................,  163
PART II.
VOICES    OF   THE   SOUL   ANSWERED      IN   GOD   THE
RESTORER.
CHAPTER I.
VESTIGES OF THE DIVINE IN MAN NOT SUFFICIENT TO
DEVELOP HOLINESS APART FROM THE SUPERNATURAL.
Divine relics implied in the following: 1. Craving for rest. 2.
Love of truth. 3. Delight in order. 4. Admiration of greatness. 5. Conception of the beautiful. 6. Limitless aspirations.
7. Idea of Religion. 8. Intuitions of right and justice. 9. Call




X..
CONTENTS.                        XlI
PAGE
of the soul for benevolence. 10. Attempts at self-reformation.
11. Remorse. 12. Phantoms of goodness associated with certain sins.-The most finished villains have these germs.Moral deterioration among the cultivated nations of antiquity.
-Why have men become savages, if the divine that is in them
has such power?-Power to reform man must come from
without...........................................  183
CHAPTER II.
NATURAL BENEVOLENCE         NOT SUFFICIENT TO       CONSTITUTE HIOLINESS APART FROM THE SUPERNATURAL.
Traits of natural benevolence: 1. Family affections. 2. Sympathy. 3. Amiability. 4. Ionor. 5. Patriotism. 6. Friendship. 7. Philanthropy. 8. Gratitude.-No holy quality in
natural benevolence.-The most wicked men have it.-Natural benevolence frequently corrupted.-A. lost feeling.-A
divine life needed.-Howard not a specimen of natural benevolence, but supernatural...................... 206
CHAPTER III.
SIN  DEVELOPED, NOT      HOLINESS, BY     FIXED   LAWS OF
THE FEELINGS: THE SUPERNATURAL NEEDED TO GIVE
A NEW    DIRECTION TO THE HEART.
Laws of sin: 1. Attempt to justify self when wrong has been
done. 2. Good feelings excited, but not acted out, increase
depravity. 3. Bad feelings awakened by good objects. 4. A
guilty man unwilling to do good is irritated when his duty is
pressed upon him. 5. Sympathy in wickedness unites enemies. 6. False zeal opposed turns to rage. 7. When one
hates another, he takes pleasure in hearing the object of his
dislike spoken against. 8. When a man is hated, it is natural
to oppose his measures. 9. If we would injure a person, we
first blacken his character. 10. A favor frequently bestowed




siv                     CONTENTS.
PAGB
produces the feeling in the receiver that he is entitled to it.
-Truth cannot change a depraved nature.-Man needs a law
of being.............................................. 24
CHAPTER IV.
THE SOUL IN RUINS: A        SUPERNATURAL RESTORATION
REQUIRED.
Ruin seen by the conflict of mental powers.-Strife between
conscience and the heart.-Propensities and appetites oppose
conscience.-Reason and the will clash.-So the intuition of
the divine and self-idolatry.-Misery of mar.-Sin a principle
of disharmony.-Another stand-point.-The globe an image
of the fall of souls.-Human body.-Strange conduct of man.
Imperfect views of human destiny.-Soul like a palace in
ruins.-Argument from analogy to show the need of supernatural aid..............................................  239
CHAPTER V.
NEED   OF   REDEMPTION: THE SUPERNATUAL REMEDY
FOUND.
1. When no need of redemption. 2. A sense of want generated by the changeable events of life. 3. The higher philosophy as tending to produce a sense of want. 4. Need
of redemption developed by the law and Spirit. 5. This need
of redemption leads to the Redeemer. 6. Christ the great
animating  Presence....................................  261
CHAPTER VI.
MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD: THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE
SUPERNATURAL CURE.
1. The initial movement of estrangement back of consciousness.
2. A state of mind.  3. Implies self-dependence.  4. Estrangement eternal.-The cure shadowed forth in the disease.




CONTENTS.                       XV
PAGE
-First, the initial movementof divine life must be back of
consciousness.-Secondly, a new state of mind must take the
place of estrangement.-Thirdly, dependence on the Redeemer must take the place of self-dependence.-Finally, union
with God through Christ is eternal....................... 271
PART III.
VOICES    OF  THE   SOUL    ANSWERED      IN  GOD   THE
SATISFIER.
CHAPTER I.
HINTS RESPECTING A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL,
AND ITS RELATION      TO THE FUTURE DEVELOPMENTS
OF GOD.
Unconscious knowledge.-Soul in its infancy.-May be undeveloped germs of eternal ideas in the soul.-Generic longings
mingling together.-Doubt.-Movements of mind that cannot
be expressed in human language.-Ideas of the future and
eternal partly dim. Transcendental element.-The mysterious.-These may form a nebulous region in the soul.-Its relation to the future developments of God.-Latent powers
may appear in eternity.-Must ever be a degree of dimness in
finite  mind........................................  299
CHAPTER II.
THE FINITE    DISSATISFIED   WITH    LESS THAN    THE INFINITE.
Vast scenes of nature, music, eloquence, awaken the idea of the
infinite.-Soul dissatisfied with less than the infinite because




Xvi                       CONTENTS.
PAGB
made in the divine image.-Vestiges of God In the soul.Tendency to change shows that man is dissatisfied.-A capacity in the soul which nothing earthly can fill. —Melancholy,
dejection, despondency, despair, show that the soul is unhinged.-Significance of guilt-Anxiety-Fear.-The unbeliever believes........................................  311
CHAPTER III.
THE SOUL A PRAYER WHOSE ANSWER IS GOD.
rhis prayer seen from the restlessness, thirst, and sense of vacancy of the soul.-The feeling of insecurity points to the Allsufficient.-Ideas of fate and destiny look Godward.-All nature points upward.-Underneath the common movements of
men see hints of God.-Our very sin and misery point to the
skies.-The sense of weariness even in the good is a broken
prayer for God.-The attempt to live a moral life brings a degree of rest.-Unconverted men upholding Christianity suggests the divine.-The inner life a prayer................. 337
CHAPTER IV.
GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.
The earthly home a type.-But one home, and that for the soul.
-The race have had glimpses of it.-Idea of a home in the
past from which the soul has strayed.-A good in the future
also thought of.-Satisfaction in immutable truth.-Man goes
through life with a sense of uncompleted being.-Souls in
their eternal exile will think of home.-Unity in its higher
theological aspect.-Rest and blessedness as ultimate states.
-These realized by perfect order in the soul, perfect activity,
a sense of perfect safety.-Whole being now satisfied, God is
reached, and the soul is at home......................... 352




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CHAPTER I.
AN INCARNATION OF GOD A WANT OF MIND.
I DO not know but that it is the usual fate
of mortals to pass through the most momentous periods of history without any due realization of the magnitude of the scene that is
about them, or any correct conception of a
future that is always more or less clearly foreshadowed by a present, even as the sun paints
and illumines the eastern sky while as yet he
is beneath the horizon.  The disciples slept
while Jesus was in an agony for a fallen race,
-a type of all the races of men standing unconsciously in the presence of mighty events
and an infinite God. There are divine doctrines that equally fail to awaken interest and
emotion corresponding to their nature. The
incarnation of God is one of these. No human
soul is all intent to witness those great movements of the Deity, which, like waves of love,
roll onward to bless mankind.  There is a
lethargy of soul touching the whole sphere of




20         A DIVINE INCARNATION
divine realities. This lethargy in many cases
seems to have taken form, as if it had become
a dark prison of unbelief, in the midst of
which the human spirit is attempting to live
without the eternal Light, and the friendly
visitations of eternal Goodness.
It will not do to say that an incarnation
of God is impossible. That point cannot be
proved. If God can create, he also can become incarnate. Creation shows that the Timeless has entered into time, that the Infinite
has connected himself with the finite. If he
can thus act, why may he not also assume
human nature? That there is mystery here
is admitted. Creation is a mystery; the incarnation of a divine person is a mystery. It
makes no difference whether we trace back
matter to the time when it may have been a
fiery cloud covering space, as if it were a curtain to the tabernacle of God. Go back as we
may, creation had a beginning. Science and
Scripture make that certain. How God could
begin to create is the puzzle. We take the
fact; we leave the mystery. If one should
affirm that the whole universe came out of
God as vapor from the sea, the difficulty is
only increased. This is the same as putting




A WANT OF MIND.           21
to death the Divine Being, and then making
the universe his tombstone. The creation of
the first man is really a prophecy of the Godman. In that first man is seen the Creator in
the creature, the Divine in the human. The
first man was supernatural-he was a miracle.
Let God become man, and the act would be no
more than supernatural, no more than a miracle.
Man really thinks of God in two ways. On
the one hand, he is thought of as an infinite
Spirit; on the other hand, he is made to appear
human-like. Whatever objections some may
have against the doctrine of an incarnation of
God, these objections really avail nothing, because every man, who thinks of God at all,
throws around him a human drapery. Language is proof of that. Let an essay be written respecting the Divine Being, and that essay
will have words which imply the human; there
is a figurative incarnation. Those who cannot
bear the thought of an incarnation, sometimes
run to the utmost length in their figures of
speech.  Take the following: "The Infinite
Mother spreads wide her arms to fold us to
that universal breast, ready to inspire your
soul."* Here is a figurative God-woman! This
* Theodore Parker's " Sermons of Religion," p. 392.




22         A DIVINE INCARNATION
is metaphor run mad. The human reason may
affirm that God is formless, yet the common
working of the mind will bring him down into
a sphere of being where he is made to assume
form. Whether this be right or wrong, it is a
fact of mind.  God does appear as divinehuman; mentally there is a God-man. This
two-fold method of viewing the Deity is seen
in the Bible. With one utterance, " God is a
Spirit;" with another, "the Lord is a man of
war."   L Ie is the high and lofty One that
inhabiteth eternity," yet "he is not far from
every one of us." Now the statement is, "I
am the Lord, I change not;" and again, "it
repented the Lord that he had made man on
the earth." Indeed, while the Bible gives us
the most exact ideas respecting God, yet a
cold, abstract Deity is not to its taste. God
is brought near to us in everything.  The
highest theology is made practical, and it appears in a human dress.
We sometimes say that man wants a person.
The thought is correct. There is not a man
that lives but that inclines to a person. The
child leans on the bosom of the parent, and
the parent lives in the advancing life of the
child. The scholar looks to the teacher, the




A WANT OF MIND.           23
subject to the ruler, and the friend to the
friend. But after all, a mere human person
does not match the totality of man's nature.
There are divine wants that are not satisfied.
To satisfy these, sometimes man has gone to
men, thinking of them as great, as wise, yea,
as divine. Hence nations and races have had
their heroes, poets, orators, statesmen, philosophers, priests and prophets.  The hunger of
souls not yet appeased, they have deified the
dead. Driven to desperation, not willing to
go where they ought to go, nor do what they
ought to do, they have even made the whole
universe divine. Reaching this height, personality is lost, God is lost; and a vast Something
to take the place of God is all that remains.
But all have not acted in this way. Wanting
a person of matchless worth, some have thought
of the Eternal One himself. There is great
power here. The fact cannot be questioned.
Yet God standing alone and man standing
alone, the soul falters, trembles, turns pale.
The vastness of the Deity is oppressive. The
purity of an infinite Presence strikes souls
dumb.   Direct and absolute Divinity has a
tendency to consume the creaturely mind. The
glory needs to be softened, shaded, lessened




24         A DIVINE INCARNATION
and lowered to meet man. One who is divine
and human is the central demand of the soul.
As we look through the Old Testament, we
are arrested by what seems like an appearance
of God in human form. After Adam and Eve
had sinned, "they hear the voice of the Lord
God walking in the garden," and they make
an attempt to hide themselves from his presence.  The fair inference here is, that the
Divine had a human dress. Three persons
appear to Abraham. They all have the human
form, so that they are supposed to be three
men. One of these differs from the other two.
This one is called Jehovah. Here is Jehovah,
then, in the form of man. Again, while Jacob
is returning to his father's house, a mysterious
visitor draws near to him on a certain night.
This strange being is called a man; and Jacob
wrestles with him till daybreak. It is evident,
however, that he was more than man; for
Jacob says, "I have seen God face to face,
and my life is preserved." At another time,
a lofty personage appears to Moses. He is
styled "the Angel of the Lord." He is also
called Jehovah, God, the Lord.God, I Am.
An Angel is spoken of as the leader of the
children of Israel. This was doubtless the




A WANT OF MIND.          25
same. divine person that appeared to Moses;
for the people are charged to obey his voice,
not to provoke him, inasmuch as he will not
pardon their transgressions. To pardon sin is
an act of God. Still, again, Daniel saw in
vision "one like the Son of man."  "And
there was given him dominion, and glory, and
a kingdom, that all people, nations, and languages, should serve him."  The implication
here is that this was a divine man. Thus,
without farther specification, we meet with the
human element in connection with God.
But let us just glance at what may be called
the medial principle in nature. What is the
universe but a medium through which we learn
something about God.   Indeed, everything
seems to be carried forward upon the medial
principle. What is there that we reach directly? Man himself is mediatorial: the type of
what is above him; the culmination of'what is
beneath him. The soul reaches the outer world
through the medium of the body; while the
body itself in its whole working is dependent
upon a most intricate system of medial relations. Mediation is linked to mediation, running through the entire being of man. There
are wheels within wheels to such an extent




26         A DIVINE INCARNATION
that the mind is baffled in its efforts to coinprehend such an intricate system of dependency. If we look to any creature, the same
fact of mediation is apparent. It interpenetrates the whole kingdom of creaturely existence, from the animalcule to the archangel.
Even the vegetable realm is arranged upon the
same principle; and simple inorganic matter
has the same characteristic. To a thoughtful
mind this principle of mediation is exceedingly
suggestive. Is it not possible that even in the
Godhead there may be found this medial arrangement? May not the all-connecting principle of mediation in nature be both an echo
and prophecy of a mediatorial movement in
the Godhead? To say the least, the thought
is reasonable.
May there not be a tendency in the Divine
Being towards an incarnation? We know that
there is a tendency in God to create, for he has
created; and the point is settled that the Infinite One will never exist without a creation.
To God it is better to have a universe than
not to have one. The divine ultimate end is
self-manifestation. Such a chief end is desirable; it is worthy of God. Since his design is
to manifest himself, why should he not becazme




A WANT OF MIND.           27
incarnate?  The treasures of the Godhead
could be unfolded in a more complete manner
by an incarnation than by any other means
whatever.  " The only true conception of God
is one which, so far from being incompatible
with, involves his being determined to an incarnation, by his own eternal moral inature;
and any conception of humanity is false, which,
either in a spirit of defiance or a spirit of pusillanimity, would regard the tabernacling of
God in man as a thing either unnecessary or
too lofty."*
The most characteristic conception of man
is, that he is a want; of God, that he is a
fulness. The one hungers: the other satisfies
the hunger. Man wants an incarnation: God
is eager to provide an incarnation. The idea
of Luther touching this matter, as expressed
by Dorner, is the following: " The deity is the
subject of a motion out of itself, which, without involving the loss of itself, desiderates
humanity as its goal or object: humanity no
less is the subject of a like yearning after God
or the Word. In the one case, humanity is the'forma' which God, as the'materia' lovingly
* Dorner, "Doct. of the Person of Christ," Divis. ii. vol. i.
p. 12.




28          A DIVINE INCARNATION
seeks: accordingly, God not merely has flesh
or humanity, but becomes and is man. In the
other case, humanity is the'materia,' which
longs for the deity as its goal, even as matter
desires and strives after its form; and, accordingly, man becomes God. Both, humanity and
deity, remain what they were, and yet they
become what they were not; but each, agreeably to its inner yearning, becomes that which
relatively to each is the other, so that the result in both cases is nothing else than the Godmanhood. Naturally the movement is conceived to originate with the deity, not with the
humanity." *
If the arguments from God and man alike
show the necessity of a divine incarnation, may
we not go a step further, and say, that an incarnation is a want of all intelligences throughout the universe? Do not all need an incarnation of God just because they are creatures,creatures who never can reach an absolute
Spirit?  This would seem to be so. It is not
merely finite man upon earth that calls for an
incarnate Deity, but it is finite mind everywhere. The training of all worlds prior to an
incarnation may be but the training of infancy.
"Doct. of the Person of Christ," Divis. ii. vol. ii. p. 75.




A WANT OF MIND.           29
When the fullness of time comes for the Godman to appear, then begins the period of manhood. The grand ideal of life in man is that
it be divine and human; and, perhaps, the
grand ideal of life in God is that it show itself
in one who is divine and human. The incarnation of God thus becomes the basis of a
universal theology; and that without which a
universal philosophy is impossible. It is the
central doctrine of the universe; the royal way
that leads to God.
Would there be an incarnation of God if
there were no sin? We are inclined to think
that there would. An incarnation is necessary
to bridge the gulf that separates the Infinite
from the finite, and equally necessary to form
the medium of a high divine manifestation.
It seems fit and proper that there should be
One at the very summit of creation who shall
be the exact counterpart of God, and who shall
at the same time represent in himself the highest form of creaturely life. All created intelligences could then look up to him as the
model; he would be the prince of spirits; the
crown and glory of the universe; the one great
archetypal Being.  "The question, whether
Christ would have assumed the nature of man




30         A DIVINE INCARNATION
if there had been no sin, was not discussed
until the middle ages, being started, as it appears, for the first time by Rupertus, Abbot of
Duitz, in the 12th century." lie says, that
"men and angels were created for the sake of
the one man, Jesus Christ; he, the head and
king of all elect angels and men, did not need
sin in order to become incarnate." Wessel
adopted the same view. "In his opinion the
final cause of the incarnation of the Son of
God is not to be found in the human race, but
in the Son of God himself. Hie became man
for his own sake; it was not the entrance of
sin into the world which called forth this determination of the divine will; Christ would
have assumed humanity even if Adam had
never sinned."  Raymund Lulli says, that " the
incarnation is indeed a work of free love; and
that we cannot say that it was only brought
about by. sin, but that God owed it to himself." "
There are two objections to the above, which
may just be glanced at. First, it is thought
that a theoplhany is necessary in a holy universe, but not an incarnation.  No doubt a
theophany has its place in the system of God.
* Hagenbach, "Hist. of Doctrines," vol. ii. pp. 53, 54.




A WANT OF MIND.           31
It forms a connecting link between the creature
and the Creator.  Still it is a question whether
it is not simply a preparatory measure, designed
to pass away when a more perfect method has
been adopted. A theophany has a degree of
vagueness about it.  A man seems to stand
before you, but no man is there. A theophany
is impersonal. This is one great objection to
it. What the kingdom of mind wants is an
exemplar to whom it may look, and a divinehuman head to complete the creation and connect that creation with God. A theophany
also lacks durability. To-day it may be in existence; to-morrow it may not. Besides, it
can never be more than a means to an end.
It is thus one-sided, and coldly instrumental.
A God-man is both means and end. He unfolds the glories of Deity; yet is worshipped
by all creatures, and is forever happy in the
exercise of a life that is divine and human.
Seconclly, it is said that an incarnation pre-supposes the humiliation of God, which cannot be
deemed a requirement of sinless mind. The
following things should be noted: A divine
man, in a perfectly holy system, would have
no weakness of bodily nature; the servantform would not be his; he would neither suffer




32         A DIVINE INCARNATION
nor die; the man simply he would be.  Certainly the stoop of Deity is not nearly so great
when these facts are taken into the account;
not nearly so great as when laying hold of a
lapsed and lost race in order to save them. Is
it possible for us to conceive of any objective
movement of God whatsoever without beholding in that a degree of condescension? I apprehend that the Supreme Majesty had to
humble himself when he called into existence
the first particle of matter that settled upon
the bosom of space. The fact of divine humiliation is written upon the whole face of nature,
and different degrees of it strike the mind that
attentively considers the infinite variety of
creation.  This very fact makes reasonable
any bending down of God that necessarily belongs to an incarnation. In so far as God will
never be able to show himself as he is, in so
far he is humbled. The objections, therefore,
do not break up the line of argument that has
been adopted.
But man is a sinner; and here is a new call
for an incarnation. The guilty mind is afraid
of God; dare not approach him; would, if
possible, plunge into some unknown depths to
escape from his presence.  The nature that




A WANT OF MIND.           33
sinned must be the nature that shall be assumed on the part of God. True it is that
man must save man, and equally true that
none but God can do this; hence a God-man
is needed. As man, by his fall, must suffer
and die, so human nature must be taken up
into connection with the divine, in order that
the God-man must suffer and die for him. If
an incarnation was needed independently of
the fact of sin, much more is it needed when
sin is a reality. For God to become man for
the sake of the fallen, requires a far greater
amount of moral power than to become man
for the sake of the holy. While sin, therefore, must have an incarnation, love alone can
provide it.
The incarnation of God is now a fact.
"Herein is love, not that we loved God, but
that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the
propitiation for our sins." The Word that was
with God and that was God, "was made flesh,
and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory,
the glory as of the only-begotten of the Father,
full of grace and truth."  Here we have a definite historical statement, which can admit of
no dispute. The peculiar form of the New
Testament idea of a God-man vouches for its




34         A DIVINE INCARNATION
truthfulness. There is nothing like it previous
to the advent of Christ. It was not possible
for any nation to develop the idea. It was
not in a line with the thinking of the ancient
world. How could a system of polytheism
with its millions of gods, terminate in the incarnation of the one God? How could a system of pantheism, which destroys the Divine
Personality, give us a personal God-man? And
how could a system of deism, which denies the
Divine Trinity, make known the truth that the
eternal Son of God was to become the Son of
man? To find a footing in such systems for a
God-man is impossible. That there were certain disfigured ideas throughout the ancient
world respecting incarnations is admitted; but
these never could resolve themselves into the
true idea.
"The opinion must seem well founded," remarks Dorner, that the entire vast region of
heathen religion contains nothing that can impeach the originality of the Christian groundidea; whilst, on the other hand, the whole of
Ileathendom strains after this idea, without
being able, from its stand-point, so much as
distantly to approach the conception of it in
its truth. And the blame, high above all, is




A WANT OF MIND.          35
due to what has not hitherto been adverted to,
viz., that heathenism utterly wants a profound
moral view of the world; a defect which also
shows itself in the confounding of the consciousness of the world and of God; for thereby also is the ethical idea physically conceived
and bedimmed.   Ethics includes chiefly the
rectitude by which man is put in relation, not
only with his fellows, but primarily with God,
and so arrives at personality.  Thus this idea
of rectitude, essential to the ethical, and ever
immanent in it, preserves the distinction between God and the world; and without it,
love itself would not be love. An idea, therefore, of the unity of the divine and the human,
not mediated by the idea of the ethical, can of
necessity be only of a physical kind, and superficial, such as we must pronounce that to
be which among the Hlellenes was consummated
in the idea of the beautiful, or of art." "Hence
in the whole heathen world the idea of the
God-man has never been even remotely approached in the sense in which it always lived
in the Church's consciousness."
" Neither does it appear presumptively probable that it is from the spirit of the Hebrew
people that such an idea could be derived.




36          A DIVINE INCARNATION
That Jehovah, he who is highly exalted above
all that is finite-who, in the sense of forming
a conception of him, cannot be seen, yea, the
very sight of whom would consume —that he
should come down to this world, should put on
a finite nature and become man, is an idea
which never could have come into the Hebrew
religion out of itself."' The truth is, the very
idea of the God-man is testimony in favor of
the fact, for the idea could have no existence
save as it sprung from the fact.
If Christ was not divine as well as human,
he is a perfect mystery. We sometimes compare one man with another, but Christ can be
compared with no one. He cannot even be
described. Our ideal of him is deficient. He
seems like some new flower that an angel has
brought from the skies; planted in the earth,
it is more lovely and fragrant than all others;
and besides, it never withers or dies, but
blooms and smiles with as much beauty amidst
the snows of winter, as amidst the finest surroundings of summer.   Yea, Christ is like
some new star that has appeared in the heavens; and so clear is its light and so radiant its
glory, that it stands forth among the stellar
* "Doct. of the Person of Christ," vol. i., pp. 10, 14.




A WANT OF MIND.           37
hosts as the central object; and because of its
exceeding beauty, men have come to call it
the morning star of God. Jesus grew up
amidst circumstances that were unfavorable;
yet no man, though surrounded with the best
circumstances, has made the least approach to
him. He was poor; lived among a rude people; had but few educational advantages;
was a simple mechanic; yet he stands alone
in history. He is a new character. All about
him is unique. His ideas of God astonish us
-so pure, truthful, perfect.  No one could
have taught them to him: none had them to
teach. He was not made by the past. He
seemed to live in a realm of being that was
outside of merely human causes. Mark his
conception of a religion for the whole world.
That is strictly a divine thought.  How he
speaks also of the soul and its sin, as none
could speak when he lived, as none have
spoken since he died. Touching the fate of
men hereafter, there is such a clearness of
statement that we seem to be listening to one
who had sojourned in the immortal regions,
and had come back to tell us what he had seen
and heard. And what is peculiar, he enters
into no argument. He utters truth as God




38         A DIVINE INCARNATION
would utter it. He speaks with authority,
and has no misgiving when he speaks. He
never makes any apology; the point that was
stated at one time is not corrected at another;
experience reveals no mistakes.  Respecting
his character, that is wonderful. Not in all
his life do we see any sign of repentance. IIe
weeps, but never for himself; he is sorrowful,
but not because of any lapse of his own.
Other men reach piety through penitence; but
he is religious without any turning from sin.
HIe is therefore unlike all human beings. Why
is he thus different from all other men? If he
was simply human, why was he holy? All
human beings are sinful-why this single exception? No answer to these questions can
be given, if Christ- was a man like other men.
Evidently he came from a higher sphere. He
entered the race from above. God has become
man.
Being thus compelled to believe that Christ
was divine as well as human, a question meets
us just here-was Jesus always conscious that
he was divine? It is certain that the human
nature of Christ had a beginning. At that beginning the divine was there, for it was the
divine that had assumed the human; yet we




A WANT OF MIND.          39
cannot think that the human nature was con.
scious that it had been taken up into connection
with the divine. The human nature at that
first moment had acquired no knowledge. There
was therefore no place for either consciousness
or memory to act. We have, then, a divine
child in existence, yet the child does not know
that it is divine. The infant Jesus having begun in this way, it lives and expands, thinking
not and knowing not that it has any personal
relation to the unbegotten. Son of God. It is
safe to say that the whole period of infancy
was passed in this manner. During what year
in the life of Christ the divine began to dawn
upon his mind, we cannot tell. Perhaps that
which arrested his attention the first, was the
fact that he was holy. Inasmuch as he was
holy, he was marked off from the entire race
of mankind; and in what way could this be
explained but upon the ground that he was
divine. When Christ had reached the age of
twelve, he seemed then to have a realization of
his divinity. Those pregnant words, "Wist ye
not that I must be about my Father's business?"
may teach as much as that.    But having
grasped the fact that he was divine as well as
human, may we not say that the consciousness




40         A DIVINE INCARNATION
of -the divine was gradual? This gradual consciousness of the divine would be in perfect
keeping with the fact of growth that was a
characteristic of his human nature. There was
therefore an hour in the mental and spiritual
life of Christ when the full glory of his divinity
touched his creaturely spirit at all points; so
that he had a sense of it more complete than
had been obtained at any previous time.
There is another question of interest to a
thoughtful mind, viz., this, will the incarnation
of the Son of God be eternal? From a proper stand-point, the incarnation must be eternal.
To say that there is a time coming when the
humanity of Christ will cease, is really to say
that he never had any humanity in the full
sense of that word. Such a view implies that
the Logos did not become man; he only took
to himself a human body. The body therefore
can be dropped when the proper time arrives
to do so. The incarnation in this way is only
a theophany. How very different is this from
the truth. Christ was a man in the fullest
sense of that word.  ile was born: men are
born, not bodies merely. IIe increased in wisdom: a human body and the divine nature
could not increase in wisdom. He was tempted:




A WANT OF MIND.          41
not God or an impersonal body, but the soul
of Jesus. He prayed: does God pray? do
bodies offer up supplication?  Christ therefore being a true man, there is no possible
reason why the incarnation should cease. If
all men will live forever, so the man Jesus will
live forever.
But some suppose that inasmuch as God became man only for the purpose of redeeming
man, so when the work of redemption is ended
the incarnation will end with it, there being no
further need for it. We do not believe, however, that the Logos assumed human nature
simply and only to redeem man. The object
aimed at extends beyond salvation; and there
is good reason to think that there would be an
incarnation even if sin had not existed at all.
The end to be gained by the incarnation is endless. The God-man is to be looked upon as
the Yrevealer and revelation of the invisible
Deity, necessary not only for one time, but for
the whole sweep of eternity. If the humanity of Christ will pass away at the close of redemption, less importance is attached to that
humanity than is attached to the individual
Christian; for he will live to enjoy God for
ever. The opinion has no good foundation.




42         A DIVINE INCARNATION.
The God-man will be the centre of heavenly
glory to the purified throughout eternity. As
he was the object of faith here, he will be the
object of praise and adoration hereafter.




CHAPTER II.
DEEP CONVICTION OF SIN: NEED OF A DIVINE
SAVIOUR.
THE emphatic thought in the present chapter
is not the necessity of a Redeemer, but the
necessity of a divine Redeemer. Unbelief respecting a doctrine of this kind does not spring
so much from the reason, as from the heart.
There are many truths which appear quite inexplicable to certain minds, because the affections are in no state to receive them. Yet
these same truths are gladly accepted by others,
because there is a spiritual want which craves
them. The short argument which we here
present is purely subjective in its nature.  It
springs out of the deep consciousness of sin.
I would make the oppressive sense of personal
sinfulness to be the great receptive state for a
divine Saviour.
As a general principle, I only want to know
what a man's views of sin are, in order to know
his views of redemption. If he has low views
43




44        DEEP CONVICTION OF SIN:
of the one, he will have low views of the other.
A whole system of tlheology will have its peculiar shape fromn the peculiar opinions held
touching the doctrine of sin. And this is
reasonable; for sin is the great moral disease
of the race, and Christian theology is the statement of the remedy with its antecedents and
consequents.  The consumptive who flatters
himself that his system is but a little injured,
will not be very anxious to obtain a remedy
suited to the nature of his complaint; while
another with the same disease, who feels truthfully about himself, will want the best medical
assistance he can find. lie who has had his
house repeatedly plundered feels the importance of having a secure lock for his door, and
fastenings for his windows: he who has experienced no trouble of this kind may think it
sufficiently safe to be without these. The man
who perceives that the ship in which he sails
is sinking, will cry for help: his companion
who is fast asleep, will be still, fearing no
danger. It is according to the same principle
that some feel the need of a divine Redeemer,
while others do not. Many have no true and
deep sense of sin. Themselves being judges,
they are not troubled as other men. They do




NEED OF A DIVINE SAVIOUR.     45
not cry out like the Philippian jailer, "Sirs,
what must I do to be saved?"
And it is not a little remarkable, that the
sacred theology of conviction has been found
chiefly among those who believed that the
Saviour is divine. This, be it understood also,
not simply among illiterate people, but the
educated as well.  See what President Edwards says respecting himself: " My wickedness as I am in myself, has long appeared to
me perfectly ineffable, and swallowing up all
thought and imagination; like an infinite deluge, or mountains over my head. I know not
how to express better what my sins appear to
me to be, than by heaping infinite upon infinite,
and multiplying infinite by infinite.  Very
often, for these many years, these expressions
are in my mind and in my mouth,'Infinite
upon infinite-Infinite upon infinite!' When
I look into my heart, and take a view of my
wickedness, it looks like an abyss infinitely
deeper than hell. And it appears to me, that
were it not for free grace, exalted and raised
up to the infinite height of all the fulness and
glory of the great Jehovah, and the arm of his
power and grace stretched forth in all the
majesty of his power, and in all the glory of




46        DEEP CONVICTION OF SIN:
his sovereignty, I should appear sunk down in
my sins below hell.itself; far beyond the sight
of everything, but the eye of sovereign grace,
that can pierce even down to such a depth.
And yet it seems to me, that my conviction of
sin is exceeding small, and faint; it is enough
to amaze me, that I have no more sense of sin.
I know certainly, that I have very little sense
of my sinfulness. When I have had turns of
weeping for my sins, I thought I knew at the
time that my repentance was nothing to my
sin."* Now, it must be noticed that this is
not the experience of a simpleton. The person
who thus speaks of his depravity had a mind
which, for logical keenness and masterly power,
has seldom been equalled. What kind of a
Saviour, then, does this profound conception
of sin call for? Will a human being answer?
Is it possible, from the facts of the case, that
Jonathan Edwards would have been satisfied
with less than an Almighty Redeemer? No:
it would have been perfect mockery to have
offered him less.  The God-man, he would
have said, is alone able to help me out of that
abyss of sin into which I have plunged. What
is thus true of Edwards is equally true of
* Works, vol. i. p. 22.




NEED OF A DIVINE SAVIOUR.     47
many other leading minds of history. The
entire theological system of Augustine had a
subjective grounding.  In the language of
Neander:   Augustine had learned from his
own experience, that, in reference to the know
ledge of divine things, the life must precede
the conception; that the latter could only come
out of the former; for, in truth, the reason
why the simple doctrines of the gospel had, at
the beginning, appeared so foolish to him, and
the delusive pretensions of that boastful mockwisdom of the Manicheans had so easily drawn
him into its current, was, that those truths
had as yet found no point of union whatever
in his inner life. It was from the life within
that he had learned to believe in these truths,
and to understand them."*
It is a significant fact that feeling is an aid
to faith. While we fully admit that the objective evidence for the divine in Christ is
amply sufficient, we yet know that a thorough
conviction of sin has great power to extend
the common thinking that relates to his person.
No feeling has such a healthy influence as the
feeling touching the nature and extent of sin
in the soul. With this, man begins to com* Ch. Hist. vol. ii. p. 358.




48        DEEP CONVICTION OF SIN:
prehend his relation to the Supreme; which
fact announces the need of an infinite Redeemer. Wherever there is a dull consciousness of personal guilt, there is always a feeble
apprehension of the Divine. Let the moral
nature be but once awakened, then the high
verities of the God-head appear to the soul.
The sin-stricken spirit then looks round imploringly for a divine Mediator. All prejudices
and objections flee away, there being nothing
for them to feed on. "The practical inquirer,"
remarks Coleridge, " hath already placed his
foot on the rock, if he has satisfied himself
that whoever needs not a Redeemer is more
than human. Remove from him the difficulties
and objections that oppose or perplex his belief of a crucified Saviour; convince him of
the reality of sin, which is impossible without
a knowledge of its true nature and inevitable
consequences; and then satisfy him as to the
fact historically, and as to the truth spiritually,
of a redemption therefrom by Christ; do this for
him, and there is little fear that he will permit
either logical quirks or metaphysical puzzles
to contravene the plain dictate of his common
sense, that the sinless One who redeemed
mankind from sin, must have been more than




NEED OF A DIVINE SAVIOUR.     49
man; and that he who brought light and
immortality into the world, could not in his
own nature have been an inheritor of death
and darkness. It is morally impossible that a
man with these convictions should suffer the
objection of incomprehensibility, and this on a
subject of faith, to overbalance the manifest
absurdity and contradiction in the notion of a
Mediator between God and the human race, at
the same infinite distance from God as the race
for whom he mediates."*
But our argument will be more specific, if
we notice the several painful emotions that
arise in the mind of a convicted sinner.
True conviction of sin has generally connected with it the feeling of sorrow; and the
more bitter this is, the more urgent the demand
for a great Deliverer. The strange solitude
and sacredness of penitential grief cry for a
divine Helper. Although all sorrow is human,
yet somehow or other, it points to the need of
the Divine. An argument of this kind can be
more easily felt than stated. In so far forth
as sorrow is subjective, agitating the deeper
heart and deeper soul on account of sin against
the Infinite, in so far is there a craving for an
* Works, vol. i. p. 266, Harper's ed.
3




50        DEEP CONVICTION OF SIN:
infinite Saviour, and a shrinking from a mere
human one. I scarcely know of a finer or
more beautiful argument for the divine in
Christ and Christianity than that of sorrow
generated because of sin against God.  The
religion of sorrow is not human: the Redeemer
from sorrow is assuredly divine. This element
of grief, which takes up its abode in the very
centre and soul of human guilt, and which
sways to and fro the sin-oppressed spirit of
man, is not in general found among the people
who live where Christianity is unknown, and
is not a common characteristic of the native
religions of the race. Natural sorrow springing from the sympathies is universal; mental
suffering resulting from sin is found everywhere; self-inflicted torment is a notable
feature of the religions of mankind: but pure
and simple sorrow for sin is the sole heritage
of the pious; lying at the very basis of
Christian worship, and at the very beginning
of the Christian life. Wherever I see a man,
then, cast down in his spirit because of sin,
I can point him with confidence to the one
divine religion and the one divine Redeemer.
That this view is correct, can be seen by any
one who will examine the hymns of the




NEED OF A DIVINE SAVIOUR.        51
Church which have appeared during the different periods of its history. This kind of
literature specially reveals the theology of
the  feelings.  Without quoting    testimony,
which all can see in their hymn-books, simply
notice the following stanza:"Some take him a creature to beA man, or an angel at most;
Sure these have no feelings like me,
Nor know themselves wretched and lost;
So guilty-so helpless am I,
I could not confide in his word,
Unless I could make the reply,
That Christ is'my Lord and my God.'"
It is certain also that the boundless aspirations of the soul act with unwonted power durring a season of conviction; which fact makes
man dissatisfied with less than an infinite Redeemer. The convicted mind runs out with
great speed and intensity to the eternal and
infinite. Like a bird locked up in its cage,
ever desirous to be away to its own native
region, so is it with him who has waked up to
a consciousness of his captivity. The soul, as
never before, is struggling to live amidst the
vaster scenes that are beyond it; scenes which
become a kind of heritage and home to aspira



52        DEEP CONVICTION OF SIN:
tions; aspirations which find no satisfaction
in the mere present tense of human existence.
The creaturely spirit, with its divine helps,
forms an ideal world of its own into which it
enters, and there hopes to find that rest which
it vainly seeks for in the rush and roar of earth.
The now of mind is always insufficient; its
to-day fills not the deep and ever-deepening
wants of being; there is a to-morrow needed
at whose eternal fountains the soul would drink,
and by the aid of whose light, which is everlasting, it would career on in a boundless course;
ever ascending the heights of the infinite, it
would hope there to find the home of souls,
and, finding, abide there forever. We confess
ourselves realists enough to believe, that the
unquenchable and limitless desires of the soul
point upwards to a Supreme Restorer, to a God
mighty to save and to bless. That is, the
awakened mind will not find peace and rest,
the sinful mind will not find pardon and purity,
till a Redeemer appears whose higher nature is
eternal and divine, though his lower nature had
a beginning, and is human.
Another characteristic of a convicted soul is
fear. He who has never had his mind profoundly agitated and tempest-tossed in view of




NEED OF A DIVINE SAVIOUR.     53
the punishment of God in eternity, has never
yet begun to live. Fear has a judicial element
connected with it; and the man, who is thus
exercised in his mind, perceives himself standing in the very centre of the divine moral
government, with all the woes of the wicked
calling upon him to escape to a place of safety.
This theology of fear is terrible, but needful
to experience. Is it possible that I shall be a
lost man forever? Must I run out the line of
my being with the moving centuries of hell?
No day-star to beckon me away; no morning
light to show me the beginning of hope. Must
I be lost? How can I help being afraid? How
can I sleep to-night unreconciled to God? With
all my sin and guilt, and with perdition hard
by me, how can I sleep! To-night I may be
in hell; many shall be there if I am not. He
who has passed through this experience knows
what fear is, and knows also how important it
is to have a Saviour great with all the attributes of divinity. It is true that a drowning
man will seize hold of a straw, and an alarmed
soul may be glad to shelter itself the best way
it can in any ruined building that appears to
offer the least security; but, when it has got
there, it only stands shivering with terror,




54        DEEP CONVICTION OF SIN:
which plainly shows that a more.secure and
lasting retreat is needed. It is worthy of special attention also that those who believe in but
a limited punishment hereafter (thus strangling
fear) believe almost invariably in a Christ human, and not divine. This striking fact shows
that our reasoning is well grounded. Fear of
eternal and divine punishment leads to an eternal and divine Saviour. While if one believes
in no punishment at all, he believes in no Saviour at all, divine or human.
Here I would call attention to the fact of
pain that is connected with deep conviction.
The pain is peculiar. I know not that there is
any sensation like it. Every man suffers in
body and mind. There is a tremendous weight
of unhappiness crushing all sinful natures. But
all do not experience that mental agony which
arises from the clear consciousness of sin.
There is a severity and keenness to the pain
of conviction not found in the common working
of conscience. It would seem almost as if the
soul, for the time being, were made to taste the
fearful agonies of hereafter; as if the guilty
spirit must die a second death before it can
rise to a second life. We read of Wilberforce,
that " his trouble of soul," while under convic



NEED OF A DIVINE SAVIOUR.      55
tion,' was long and terrible. He asserted in
after years that he had never read of mental
agonies more acute than his own; and we think
it were difficult to over-estimate the weight of
this testimony. Yet it was not terror that
chiefly dismayed him.'It was not so much,'
these are his own words, the fear of punishment by which I was affected, as a sense of my
great sinfulness in having so long neglected the
unspeakable mercies of my God and Saviour.' "
Now, we cannot but think that, with an experience of this kind, a great Redeemer is
needed.  The deep wail of the soul, and the
answer thereto are convincingly expressed in
these words:   0 wretched man that I am!
who shall deliver me from the body of this
death? I thank God through Jesus Christ
our Lord."
Still further, in minds oppressed with sin,
there is a sense of great zueakness. Though
all be morally weak, yet most men are morally
strong. Let one be penetrated with the fact
that holiness abides not in any natural soul,
that depravity has tainted every stream which
once was pure, has withered every flower which
once was fair, then he will begin to understand
*Bayne's " Christian Life," p. 169.




56        DEEP CONVICTION OF SIN:
how utterly helpless he is. The man who is
deeply conscious of his low estate has come to
a point where he feels that he must have an
Omnipotent Saviour. HIe stands on no middle
ground where he can look both ways with
equal indifference; but is rather in a position
where he feels that life or death is to be the
result. Ask any man who has the feeling of
entire helplessness what kind of a Redeemer
he wants, and he will answer, as if by instinct,
a divine one.
Following out the line of our argument to
its close, we often find that the convicted sinner has a tendency to despair; thus showing
the need of a Deliverer of great power. The
different steps we have taken lead to this one.
First, as the foundation, the soul is deeply
convinced of its sinfulness.  Secondly, a sadness of heart springs from this. Thirdly, the
more lofty aspirations of the soul are quickened
in their working.  Fourthly, the passion of
fear is intensified. Fifthly, the most painful
sensations agitate the spirit.  Sixthly, there
is a strong sense of moral impotency. Lastly,
there is a tendency to despair. It is not a
little strange that persons, who at other times
are quite hopeful in regard to their moral con



NEED OF A DIVINE SAVIOUR.      57
dition and future prospects, should now be just
the opposite. To-day they congratulate themselves on account of their goodness: to-morrow
they condemn themselves on account of their
wickedness. They enter into a cloud, and dwell
in darkness.  Says Dr. Dwight: " Scarcely any
thing more naturally, or more commonly, occurs to the mind in this situation, than doubts,
whether such guilt, as itself has accumulated,
can be forgiven. The mercy of God, which is
declared in the Scriptures to be greater than
our sins, to be above the heavens, to extend to all
qenerations, and to endure forever, is often
doubted, so far as the sinner himself is concerned; admitted easily with regard to others,
and with regard to all or almost all others,
it is still doubted so far as he is concerned, and
is easily believed to be incapable of extending
to him."  "Instead of self-flattery, the only
employment which he was formerly willing to
pursue with respect to his spiritual concerns,
and which he indulged in every foolish and excessive degree, he is now wholly engaged in
the opposite career of self-condemnation; and
not unfrequently pursues it to an excess, equally unwarranted by the Scriptures."'  Some
*" Theology," Serm. 75.




58        DEEP CONVICTION OF SIN:
even go so far as to lose their reason; having
nothing but despair as a gloomy cloud ever
around them, through which they walk as
through a perpetual night. Others under the
pressure of the feeling, commit suicide; while
others still, not going as far as this, are destitute of all hope as long as they live. How
many die in utter despair, with nothing power.
ful enough to lift them up! Now, if this does
not call, with a voice so loud that it pierces
the heavens, for the greatest possible Saviour,
we do not know what meaning to attach to
such kind of experience. The whole matter
turns upon the strength of motives. The millions of truly convicted men who have obtained
hope, have obtained it only by beholding a divine Redeemer.
Such are the thoughts touching this deeply
important subject. If in the first chapter we
saw that God must become man, we now see
that the incarnate God is also a Saviour. Here,
we have a divine person; there, a human form.
Here, a Deliverer; there, a Revealer. This twofold view of God is what man needs. "Whenever the soul is most deeply stirred by penitence, or strained by agony, or kindled into
holy aspiration, the spiritual nature craves a




NEED OF A DIVINE SAVIOUR.     59
more intimate communion with God than would
be possible if that God had not mysteriously
manifested himself in flesh; not a Sovereign
in the skies but a beating and friendly bosom
in Bethany. It cries out for the Christ, who,
by bearing to us the pity and pardon of the
Father, is the Way, and Truth, and Life. The
individual heart, when it is really agitated,
whether by hope, or love, or pain, or fear, emphasizes the promise of revelation; and the
longings of the individual soul respond to the
broad verdict of history. It confesses, like
Peter before the persecutors, that there is no
other name under heaven, given among men,
whereby it can be saved."   Each feeling of
the convicted soul that we have noticed has
really a divine meaning. We are reminded by
this language of the feelings, of a language of
flowers common among the people of India.
Every flower has a sacred meaning.   Some
speak of peace and rest; others, of sorrow
and fear. As each worshipper brings his flowers to the temple, and lays them on the altar,
you can almost tell by the beautiful symbolism what the prayer is that ascends to the
deity. We may view each feeling of the
* Dr. Huntington, Sermon on the " Divinity of Christ."




60         DEEP CONVICTION OF SIN.
troubled spirit as a flower. Each is laid on
the altar of God; and a prayer goes up to
heaven for that favor of which each is the
symbol. The answer to the soul's prayer is
Christ.




CHAPTER III.
CONSCIOUSNESS OF GUILT: NEED OF A DIVINE
ATONEMENT.
SECTION I.
THE WORKING OF GUILT.
GUILT is one of the most noticeable facts of
human nature. It arises wholly from a sense
of sin. No other evil but sin will produce it.
Physical evil may cause me to feel sorrowful:
moral evil compels me to feel guilty. Whatever tends to render sin small, tends to render
guilt feeble. If the one could be annihilated,
so could the other. We do not suppose, however, that any man will ever be able to make
himself believe that sin is a mere fancy; because the existence of conscience as the distinctive moral faculty of the soul will keep
him from this. There is no amount of sin that
can ever destroy the moral nature; and as
guilt arises by a law of necessity, wholly beyond the reach of the human will, it must act




62         THE WORKING OF GUILT.
in the sinful mind forever. And what is worthy
of note, it does not merely agitate the mind
because evil ejfects follow the commission of
sin. The guilt may be intensified when the
effects are seen, but yet it is the sin apart from
them that originates the guilt. If sin is lost
in its consequences, then the suffering is the
sin.  Moral evil is thus changed to natural
evil. According to this, the only thing ultimately to be feared and hated is everlasting
punishment. As to the cause of sin, it may be
said that the simple act of a personal being
does not of itself constitute sin; there must
be a sinful quality pertaining to it before it can
be thus characterized. We are to predicate
sin of an act when its character is bad; and
holiness of an act when its character is good.
Unless we thus distinguish, we cannot tell
whether the act be right or wrong. Sin is
chiefly a lawless, vicious will-not.
The sense of justice also connects itself with
guilt.  Justice is a first truth of the mind.  It
is therefore universal. It is the safeguard of
the business of the world.  Without it there
would be no certainty. In human jurisprudence, nothing could be done apart from the
instinctive justice of the soul. When crime is




THE WORKING OF GUILT.       63
committed, a million of voices call out for the
punishment of the guilty. This is not the cry
of revenge, but of righteousness. Even with
sins which no human eye beholds, there is
found the judicial affirmation-You ought to
suffer, you ought to be punished. At the point
of the most extreme agony justice says, all is
right, misery must follow transgression. The
mind has elements in it which may be turned
into a world of torture or a world of bliss, according to its state or manner of acting.  This
juridical concomitant of guilt justifies its existence and heightens its power. The wicked
man is now compelled to take sides with God.
He is convicted and condemned. He says
nothing. The culmination of guilt is silence.
This feature is not often witnessed in the present life, except among those who fall down before the cross.  At the final judgment the
wicked will be dumb. The element of justice
relates one man to another, and all to God;
while it marks off each offender by himself.
Silence and suffering are the perfected ingredients of guilt.  Speechless despair is the
death of souls.
With sin and justice as a groundwork, we
may glance at the retrospective power of guilt.




64        THE WORKING OF GUILT.
It is not present evil alone that the mind is
called to contemplate; the evil of the past is
made to appear before it. It is true that sin
is not always seen, and conscience does not always act. The wheels of the soul move round
as usual; nothing special is recognized. Plans
of life are laid out. There is a calm in the
spirit, and it is busy while it lasts. But a
change takes place. Conscience awakes. The
sleeping sins of the past startle, and move
about. Wherever you go, they go. In silent
procession they walk. They look you through.
We may reckon with great certainty on the
reappearance of the sins of the past.  The
very nature of subjective punishment would
seem to demand this. If some sins must arise
to torment the soul, we see not but that all
must. Natural retribution will be imperfect
upon any other principle. The belief is gaining ground that nothing pertaining to the human spirit is ever lost. " The abstract possibility of an entire restoration of memory, or
of the recovery of the whole that it has ever
contained, need not be questioned; or if it
were, an appeal might be made to every one's
personal experience; for we suppose there are
none to whom it has not happened to have a




THE WORKING OF GUILT.        65
sudden recollection,-a flashing of some minute
and unimportant incident of early life or childhood; and perhaps after an interval of forty
or sixty years. With some persons, these unconnected and uncalled-for reminiscences are
frequent and very vivid; and they seem to
imply that although the mind may have lost
its command over the stores of memory, and
may no longer be able to recall at will the remote passages of its history, yet that the memory itself has not really parted with any of its
deposits, but holds them faithfully (if not obediently) in reserve, against a season when the
whole will be demanded of it. Might not the
human memory be compared to a field of sepulture, thickly stocked with the remains of
many generations; but of all these thousands
whose dust heaves the surface, a few only are
saved from immediate oblivion upon tablets
and urns; while the many are, at present, utterly lost to knowledge? Nevertheless each
of the dead has left in that soil an imperishable germ; and all, without distinction, shall
another day start up, and claim their dues."
The human memory is very much like the
historiographer of Oriental monarchs.  This
* Isaac Taylor,'Physical Theory of another Life," chap, v.




66         THE WORKING OF GUILT.
individual is the keeper of the king's seal; and
it is his duty to write down all the king's actions, good and bad. He is to make no change
in the chronicle; neither must he introduce
any remarks of his own. When his sovereign
is dead, it is presented to the council. They
read it over attentively. If anything false is
found in it, it is erased; if anything has been
omitted, it is written out in full. A similar
custom prevails in China. All the sayings and
plans of the emperor are written in a journal.
The document is sealed during his lifetime,
and is not opened till his death. It is supposed that a practice of this kind will be for
the public good, as it compels the ruler to be
on his guard. The volume of memory is to a
great extent unknown during the present life
of the author. It seems to be written with
sympathetic ink, so that its characters do not
appear; yet, when they come in contact with
the exciting elements of the future state, every
letter and word will be visible. After death
the book will be opened. "It is a law of mind
that the intensity of the present consciousness
determines the vivacity of the future memory.
Memory and consciousness are thus in the
direct ratio of each other. On the one hand,




THE WORKING OF GUILT.        67
looking from cause to effect,-vivid consciousness, long memory; faint consciousness, short
memory; no consciousness, no memory: and,
on the other, looking from effect to cause,long memory, vivid consciousness; short memory, faint consciousness; no memory, no consciousness."''x Still further, the more the will
is brought to bear on memory and consciousness, the more readily and perfectly will any
act or state be remembered. If, at the moment
one is reading the page of a book, he be thinking about something else, nothing of what has
been read will be remembered. The reason of
this is manifest,-the will was not there to fix
the attention.  Let the page be read over
again, the person trying to remember, then,
without a doubt, the contents of the book will
become the contents of the memory.    The
same is true of consciousness. I may pass
through a strange country and yet see nothing
with the soul, because the will does not hold
consciousness to the various objects that are
around me. If intently I look at everything,
I remember. Again, it is worthy of note that
feeling is generally a matter of consciousness.
Let feeling, then, be connected with vice, and
* Sir W. Hamilton's " Metaphysics," p. 256.




68         THE WORKING OF GUILT.
the fact must be registered in the mind.
IHence, we may expect to see former deeds of
darkness lighted into being, by the remembrance of the very feelings that gave them
birth.  The present pleasure and the present
pain of sin are in this way but fuel for the
future fires of conscience. With such a view
of the subject, the retrospective power of
guilt is fearfully significant.  The fact that it
will be nourished and quickened by a combination of sinful acts and emotions is a terrible
feature in the constitution of the human mind.
But guilt is prospective as well as retrospective. If it looks back, it looks also forward.
There is a storm  advancing, and the mind
beholds it. There is a dark cloud in the distant horizon where time ends and eternity
begins.  The marshalling of steeds is heard;
the tramp of horsemen falls on the ear. Winged
chariots of fire fly through the clouds. Armies
are marching along the distant sky and their
weapons glisten. At the destruction of Jerusalem by Titus, " chariots and troops of soldiers
in their armor were seen running about among
the clouds, and surrounding of cities;" even
so it is with the anxious, guilty spirit. The
imagery of a troubled conscience lines the




THE WORKING OF GUILT.       69
future. The forces of the Almighty are seen
preparing, and the wicked fear and tremble.
The poets and dramatists," remarks Plutarch,
"have borne witness to this trait of human
nature.  Stesichorus represents the guilty
Clytemnestra as having a dream, in which a
dragon with a bloody head seemed to approach her, presaging the vengeance which
Orestes was to take upon her, for murdering
his father.  They relate of Apollodorus, a
monster of inhumanity, that he dreamed that
he was skinned alive by the Scythians, and
then seethed in a cauldron, from which his
heart cried out to him, ever and anon:' For
all this you have to thank me.' Ptolemy
Ceraunus had his presentiments of what was
to be the end of his career of ambition and
blood. His attendants reported to him this
singular dream: they saw him arraigned for
justice by Seleucus (one of his murdered victims); vultures and wolves acted as judges,
and portions of flesh were dealt out to his
friends. Such visions, phantoms, oracles, omens,
disturb the guilty and admonish them of their
doom."'
Now, since guilt has a past and a future, we
* See Biblioth. Sacra, vol. xiii, p. 620.




70        THE WORKING OF GUILT.
must notice the peculiar fact that the former
suggests the latter in such a way that both
seem to come together in a present. The moment
the curtain is drawn which hides the past, that
moment the curtain of the future is torn down,
and the man is compelled to stand in the
centre, first looking one way and then the
other, seemingly without power to help himself, compelled to see both ways, and to swing
like the pendulum from side to side, or like the
door on its hinges turning evermore. There
is, without doubt, a law of association here,
finding in some objects a power to suggest the
past, while these same objects have a power
to suggest the future.  A  thought, feeling,
motive, deed, time, place, person, thing, may
each have a double significancy, pointing like
the magnet both north and south. The flaming torch which conscience carries in her hand,
while it reveals the dark background of sin,
no less reveals the dark foreground of punishment at the same instant of time! The whole
working of this law presents us with a nightscene in the soul. It is like a solitary man
going forth with lantern in hand to spy out
the ruins of some ancient city.  He seats
himself on the top of the crumbling wall, lifts




THE WORKING OF GUILT.       71
up his light, and all around him beholds the
remains of ancient greatness,-to the right
and left, and on either side, all is open to his
inspection. Guilty man thus situated is like
a criminal on the highway fleeing for his life.
As he looks back, the avenger is in fierce pursuit; as he looks forward, another is hastening
to meet him; so there is no escape. Here is
a person, we will suppose, who goes forth on
some dark night with pistol in hand, designing
to attack some passing traveler. It is not long
before he meets one. He demands his money.
The man refuses. He is instantly shot. The
highwayman finds upon the body a purse full
of gold, and a silver watch. He hastens with
these to his home. As he examines the watch,
he perceives that it is the same as that which
he gave to his son many years before; and the
person he has murdered is his own child!
Now, here is an act with a double meaning.
That watch as it keeps ticking, tells only of
present time; yet, as if some prophetic spirit
were moving among its wheels, it points to a
son slain, and throws the mind back to that
dark hour when the deed was committed.
While, again, it points the mind to the future 
for that son was sent into eternity by a father,




72         THE WORKING OF GUILT.
Thus time and eternity are brought together
before the murderer's soul; he must look at
both; must read his dark deed and still darker
doom. The watch, in fact, reveals the past
and the future. The Egyptians symbolized
eternity by a serpent with its tail in its mouth.
Such would seem to be the fit symbolism of
guilt,-a serpent around the soul gnawing it
forever.
But a very significant feature of the guilty
mind is, that it is afraid of the Deity. I am
inclined to think that when men have a vivid
consciousness of guilt, they have generally
some thoughts of a Supreme Power. Guilt is
not merely a human affair; in its deepest
working it is theistic. At the point of greatest
wickedness and wretchedness there are yet
conceptions of an Almighty Being, and terrors
are awakened in the soul because sin has been
committed. There is something peculiar about
this. Why should God be feared, any more
than any created being?  No one has ever
seen his face; why then tremble? This, however, is no more strange than that the same
soul should look away off upon a coming
eternity with fear. It seems obvious that the
creaturely spirit is related to a great Sovereign,




THE WORKING OF GUILT.      73
and to a state of being that has no end.
When the wicked man suffers evil in the
present life, he is apt to say, " this has come
upon me because of my crime." He finds
that God is pursuing him, though man may not
be able to find his track. And so at every
step he fears the Divine Avenger, no less than
the human. We see this characteristic brought
out distinctly in the brethren of Joseph. They
weie in Egypt endeavoring to purchase food
for their families; but, while there, they are
confined for three days; at the expiration of
which, we find them speaking in this manner:
"' They said one to another, we are verily
guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw
the anguish of his soul, when he besought us,
and we would not hear; therefore is this distress come upon us." The mind in this state
turns everything that is distressing into a
judgment of heaven.   It has been said of
Voltaire that, without believing in the devil,
he saw him everywhere, even where he was
not. So those who profess not to believe in
God, or those who act as if there were no such
Being, fear him though they would not; they
assume a bold front, though underneath that is
a faint heart. A guilty conscience will sweep
4




74          NEED OF ATONEMENT.
away in an instant the sophisms of a life-time
Man does fear God. It is a truth of the race.
The general sentiment of the heathen world,
a:s it respects the divinity that is over them, is
that of fear. It is certainly not that of holy
confidence. It were utter folly to speak of
familiarity between a guilty soul and a God of
absolute purity and justice. The two cannot
come together. A just God must be angry,
and a guilty man must fear.
SECTION II.
A DIVINE ATONEMENT NEEDED TO MEET THE CLAIMS
OF GUILT.
IT is seldom that theological writers prove
the necessity of atonement from the fact of
guilt. The doctrine is generally reasoned out
from the nature and demands of the divine moral government.   It is our opinion
that the argument is only complete when both
methods are united. We have then thought
and feeling working together. Says Dr. Chalmers: "The necessity of the atonement ex.
perienced as a feeling, is altogether different
from the necessity of the atonement conceived
of as a notion. To him who is occupied with




NEED OF ATONEMENT.         75
the feeling, it forms a practical impulse, under
which he is led to seek for relief from the distress
and the fears of nature; nor will it be long ere
you find him exploring the Bible, and pondering with deep anxiety and attention over the
statements which lie before him there. To him
who is occupied with the notion, it forms the
premise of an argument which he must prosecute
to a conclusion, on the side of the doctrine, it
may be; and on which previous verdict it may
perhaps depend, whether he will admit the Bible
to a hearing on the question at all."*  The
feeling and the notion present us with two
ways of reaching the same important truth.
The former we select just now because there
is a want to be satisfied.
First, something is needed to quiet the guilty
mind. How can this be done? If the sinful
man is made sinless, will conscience then be at
rest? At first sight it would seem so, but yet
it cannot be. Suppose that a noted thief and
murderer were to flee away to some unknown
region, and while living there should become a
moral man, would consciousness of guilt with
reference to persons plundered and slain be annihilated because of his reformed life?  The
* " Institutes of Theology," vol. ii, p. 17.




76           NEED OF ATONEMENT.
thing is impossible. He could not fail to have
anguish of mind in view of the evil he had
done.   He is a criminal still, whatever his
present moral standing may be.   The public
well-being, the demands of equity, are not
satisfied by the character which he now possesses.  Simple purity, then, will not quiet
conscience. We have only to grasp the true
idea of guilt, in order to see this. How does
it arise? It arises on account of transgression
of law.  Plainly, then, if guilt is to be removed, law must be satisfied. So long as the
mind remains as it is, it can have true peace
in no other way than this. There is a necessary connection of cause and effect. A broken
law the cause-guilt the effect: a sustained
law the cause-peace the effect.  " The correlate to guilt is atonement, and to attempt to
satisfy those specific wants of the sinful soul,
which spring out of remorse of conscience,
which is the felt and living relation of sin to
law and justice, by a mere provision for spiritual sanctification, however needed and necessary this may be, in its own place, must be
like the attempt to satisfy thirst with food."*
* Prof. Shedd's "Introductory Essay" to Coleridge's Works,
p. 51.




NEED OF ATONEMENT.         77
It is both a natural and supernatural truth,
that " without shedding of blood is no remission." The necessity of an expiatory sacrifice,
in order to wash out guilt, is strikingly illustrated by a practice among the ancient Phrygians. The man who was to be purified was
put into a pit, and over him was placed a platform having innumerable holes pierced through
it. On this platform was laid the animal that
was to be slain.  Through the small holes
flowed the blood of the slaughtered beast; and
this like rain descended on the head, face,
tongue, and body of the guilty man. He received a baptism of blood, by which he was
considered purified. Here outward atonement,
or satisfaction to law, and inward cleansing
went together.
Secondly, a powerful arm is needed to remove the evils of eternity which man fears.
The boding sense of danger, which leaps out
of active guilt, proclaims in emphatic language
the necessity of a great Atoner, who is both
able to remove the danger and the fear of it.
It is not personal guilt only that the soul would
be away from, but future evil as well. This
stunning fact is too great to be put down with
a huslh which is all that some can do; while




78          NEED OF ATONEMENT.
others not so hardened, yet as ignorant, stand
and tremble, unable to go either one way or
the other. If guilt can only be removed by
upholding the law, fear of punishment can only
be removed by the same process.  So long as
the fear is an effect, and well grounded, there
is no way to change it but through its cause.
Conscience is not merely individual, having its
sin and punishment wholly within itself; it is
governmental; hence a punishment without
awaits the transgressor. In the first section,
we have seen that the sense of justice is inseparably connected with guilt; consequently
justice must be satisfied before the alarms of
guilt can be dispelled. The early Egyptians
were in the habit of branding a seal upon the
bull that was to be sacrificed. The figure on
the seal represented a man kneeling, with his
hands tied behind him, and a sword placed at
his throat.  How significant the emblem!
Surely with the sword of justice held over
man, he needs an atonement of priceless value.
Thirdly, a divine Reconciler is needed to
appease God.  Man sins against God, then
fears him, and out of this arises the craving
for a Mediator. It is because Jehovah is what
he is, and all sin is against him, that the mind




NEED OF ATONEMENT.         79
takes the direction here mentioned. I look
upon this Godward movement of guilt as the
great subjective basis for a divine atonement.
There are two ideas which ground themselves
in the mind of sinful man, and which make
their appearance when he stands face to face
with God; viz., the divine justice and holiness.
The sinful character becomes the more sinful
by its contrast with the unsullied purity of the
Supreme; and this makes man shrink back out
of sight, causing him to feel that he is cut off
from the divine favor. And as guilt rises up
in his mind, and he beholds the justice of the
Infinite One, he fears exceedingly, for vengeance is at hand; and so the great want is
an all-sufficient atonement. The grand desideratum is to find that which will uphold the
justice and honor the holiness of the Deity;
for these are the objective verities which the
guilty conscience affirms; and, until they are
met and satisfied, there is no such thing as
bringing God and man together.
These three points show the internal working
of the guilt-stricken soul with respect to a system of mediation that can quiet conscience,
remove punishment, and pacify God. We now
present three other points from the external




80          NEED OF ATONEMENT.
sphere, relating to the same evils and the same
remedy.
First, when man has a deep consciousness
of guilt, he is prompted to make confession of
his sin. He supposes that this confession will
be pleasing to the Divine Being, will tend to
gain his favor, will be influential in easing the
mind of its pain. To a certain extent, it will
appear to make the sin less than it is; and
this is one of the dangerous features of mere
confession; showing also that there is no true
repentance in it, but simply a manifestation of
restlessness. But as something must be done,
what more reasonable than free and open confession of having done wrong.  To the guilty
mind at least, there is something that looks
truly penitential in this. The man feels uneasy in regard to his sins, has some sorrow,
and a peculiar wish that they had not been
committed.   The foundation of the whole,
however, is fear.  There is a vision of the
wrath to come and the divine displeasure,
compelling the agitated spirit to acknowledge
its demerit. But the method adopted does
not bring peace, aad the woes that intimidate
become no less.
Secondly, the man now attempts to make




NEED OF ATONEMENT.         81
restitution for the sins of the past. He approaches the point, however, in a gradual way.
At first, he breaks off from the more glaring
acts of transgression, as these appear to him
to be the most wicked. HIe is also more scrupulous with reference to those duties that are
deemed religious. He is beneficent; making
attempts even at self-denial; imagining that by
the liberal bestowment of money for charitable
and sacred purposes, he thereby makes some
reparation for the evil he has done. In deeds
of this kind there is the appearance of doing
more than one's duty; hence a feeling of satisfaction as if the Supreme Rewarder were well
pleased with such sacrifices. This feature is
seen in the conduct of certain persons in the
tenth century who believed the world was
about coming to an end, and who, as a consequence, were afraid to appear before God.
" Some devoted themselves," says the historian,
"by a solemn and voluntary oath to the service of the churches, convents, and priesthood,
whose slaves they became, in the most rigorous
sense of that word, performing daily their heavy
tasks; and all this from a notion that the Supreme Judge would diminish the severity of
their sentence, and look upon them with a more




82          NEED OF ATONEMENT.
favorable and propitious eye, on account of
their having made themselves the slaves of his
ministers. The opulent attempted to bribe the
Deity, and the saintly tribe, by rich donations
conferred upon the sacerdotal and monastic
orders, who were regarded as the immediate
vicegerents of Heaven." * Again, others will
adopt rules of penance for themselves, and be
more strict in these than in the unchangeable
principles of morality. By such a method the
conscience is quieted for a time; for there is
that about it which looks like an atonement.
But the delusion after a season departs, and
the old fears return. It is now seen that a
moral being can never do more than his duty;
that it is absolutely impossible in the nature of
things to make amends for the past. Man is
obligated to do all he can each moment of life;
and, instead of doing more now to make up for
the deficiencies of the past, he must do more
to meet the demands of the present. All do
less than God requires. Something is therefore
still wanted to make a true reparation.
Thirdly, the guilty man now offers sacrifice.
Confession and restitution have failed; an innocent animal must atone for the transgressor.
* Mosheim, Ch. Hist., vol. i. p. 248.




NEED OF ATONEMENT.         83
In the history of the race, few things are so
remarkable as the fact of sacrifice. Its universality shows that there must be a ground for it
in the human mind. Admitting that the system was instituted by the Creator, why was it
instituted?  Subjectively at least, there is
reason for it in the consciousness of guilt,
and in the deep cry of troubled natures for a
ransom. Solemn and significant it is to see a
sinful man going forth with a lamb for a sacrifice. There is an attempt to do away with the
schism of the soul; an attempt also to introduce harmony between that soul and God. But
a beast without a stain can accomplish no such
end. The introduction of human sacrifices
shows that man was dissatisfied, and that he
was anxious to do his utmost that peace might
be restored. These assuredly were not by divine appointment; they were the pure inventions of men,-men driven to madness by the
clamors of sin and vengeance. Is the great
atonement, then, found at last? It seems not.
The fire of the soul was rather made to burn
more fiercely; no human blood could quench
it. An only child, a spotless virgin, a princely
man, were tried; the trial ended in despair. In
the language of Porphyry, " There was want



84          NEED OF ATONEMENT.
ing some universal method of delivering men's
souls, which no sect of philosophy had ever
yet found out."
Our conclusion, then, is that a divine Atoner
is demanded. The whole history of religion
points to such a person. Heathenism and Judaism culminate in the Crucified. The history
of the world is chiefly sacrificial. The worship
of heaven is a psalm; the worship of earth a
sacrifice. There is "a Lamb slain from the
foundation of the world." The course of
modern speculation touching this deeply important subject is either towards a divine and
glorious Redeemer, or towards a divine and
glorious humanity. If Jesus is not exalted
and worshipped, the race will be. There is no
stopping place between the Sinless and the sinful. The choice is between an atoning Saviour
or none at all.
In the three following chapters our point of
view is changed. It is supposed that we have
discovered the great redemptive person of Christianity, and so stand beside him to learn of his
fitness to meet our case as fallen beings. Man
is viewed as a transgressor of law, exposed to
punishment, oppressed with sorrow; and the
God-man is viewed as the One who meets these
difficulties.




CHAPTER IV.
THE LAW BROKEN: THE DIVINE SUSTAINER
OF LAW.
SECTION     I.
MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.
THE above statement involves a number of
distinct propositions.  The one that lies at the
foundation is this-man is a subject of moral
law. We might reason from analogy that man
iT under law, for nothing thus far has been discovered without it. The elementary atom, the
compound grain, the globe, the system, the
collection of all the systems into one vast whole,
-each and all have a law. In every organic
thing we have it; it were impossible to have
an organism without it. Man would be a
mental, moral, and physical mystery, if he had
no connection with it. But the chief idea is
not so much that man is under law, as that he
is a subject of moral law. It is this which
brings him into a new sphere, the sphere of




86     MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.
moral qualities, and the high realm of the divine. If one wants proof, it is found in human
consciousness. We do not theorize; we simply
take a'fact of the soul. The right and the
wrong are affirmed by conscience,-affirmed
with great uniformity. This is good, that is
evil. The moral law is interwoven with the
soul. A denial of inherent subjective ethics
is a denial of mind, and, by fair inference, a
denial of the Supreme Mind. Then, too, the
soul is not merely a thinking, feeling, acting
substance; it is all these in the moral, and for
the moral. Character is ultimate; thought is
not.  To love is higher and better than to
think.
And what is important to be stated also ia
this, that conscience is not by any means character; an enlightened conscience does not constitute a good man. As it respects God, law
is the expression of his holiness; the divine
law is the free utterance of the divine rectitude. The fact that God is love, makes him a
law to himself and to all intelligences. We
cannot speak of man in this way. The pure
spirituality of the soul has taken its flight.
The nature where holiness ought to be is
withered and dead; yea, sin has taken its




MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.    87
place; for, if a faculty or power has not the
good for which it was made, it will have the
evil. The soul, as now it stands, has its law
of right; but it has, with significant contrast,
its heart of wrong. The utmost that man can
have now is a cold virtue; for the fire that
once burned on the altar of the soul is extinguished, and the love that once ascended to
the Infinite is now no more. I am afraid that
many of our ethical writers forget this. Conscience may be followed in an ethical way, yet
the righteousness which God approves is not
thus found.'I can conceive of a man toiling
with utmost constancy for the amelioration of
the race at the bidding of conscience, and yet,
though satisfying himself, not satisfying him
who knows the heart. There are not wanting
commandment-men, and even sympathetic men;
but the greatest want of the age is sanctified
emotion and action.  If the approbation of
conscience," says President Edwards, "were the
same with the approbation of the inclination,
of the heart, or the natural disposition and determination of the mind to love and be pleased
with virtue, then approbation and condemnation of conscience would always be in proportion to the virtuous temper of the mind; or




88     MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.
rather the degree would be just the same. In
that person who had a high degree of virtuous
temper, therefore, the testimony of conscience
in favor of virtue would be equally full: but
he that had but little, would have as little a
degree of the testimony of conscience for virtue, and against vice. But I think the case is
evidently otherwise. Some men, through the
strength of vice in their hearts, will go on in
sin against clearer light and stronger convictions
of conscience, than others.  If conscience's
approving duty and disapproving sin, were the
same thing as the exercise of a virtuous principle of the heart, in loving duty and hating
sin, then remorse of conscience will be the
same thing as repentance; and just in the same
degree as the sinner feels remorse of conscience
for sin, in the same degree is his heart turned
from the love of sin to the hatred of it, inasmuch as they are the very same thing." *
But without enlarging upon this thought,
let me here notice the laws or limitations of
conscience. As the human mind has three
grand divisions, viz., the faculty of thought,
feeling, choice, conscience must extend to each
and all of these if it is to be the proper guide
* "The Nature of Virtue," chap. v.




MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.     89
of man. 1.-The decision of conscience respecting duty is conditioned by the decision of
the understanding. It is on account of this
peculiar law of conscience that we see such a
great diversity among mankind touching the
right and the wrong of certain actions. What
is considered morally good in one place, is considered morally evil in another. A course of
action may seem right to a person to-day,
while to-morrow it may seem wrong. Unless
we make the moral faculty to be a soul by itself, it must lean upon the understanding.
This, in fact, is a noble characteristic; for
thereby man stands out before the universe as
a reasonable being. It throws also a vast responsibility upon him. He must do his best
to know what duty is to himself, to men around
him, and to God. If through indolence, prejudice, or sinful inclination, man will not strive
to gain the truth, he is to blame for that.
Whatever may be the opinion which he forms,
he is accountable. If conscience is not enlightened, if it is led astray by that which is false,
man is guilty. The moral reason can thus try
and condemn the very faculty on which it depends. 2. —It is a law of conscience that it
can pronounce e decision upon the states of the




90     MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.
heart. The very life or death of souls is found
here.  If the current of the affections is towards God, it is good; if towards self, it is
bad. The least aversion with respect to God
and goodness is sin: the feeblest e-motion of
love to the pure and the divine is holiness.
Yea, if the heart is wholly in a negative state,
is without goodness, that state is sin. Conscience reaches down to the positive and the passive alike. The moral faculty is perfected and
satisfied when God and love are enthroned in
the heart. 3.-States and individual acts of the
will are good or evil. We believe that there
are two movements of the human will.   One
movement begins with the first sin; at which
point it encircles the whole moral nature of the
soul, acting with the utmost constancy, never
changing for a moment, continuing through all
eternity unless arrested by divine grace. This
permanent, voluntary state is the one great sin
of the soul.  This is the life-sin of all unrenewed men. By such a tremendous sweep of
the will, the whole being is led off from God.
If this state is changed, however, as it is in
conversion, then, it is approved by the conscience.  The spiritual drift of the angel mind
and the divine mind is holy, while that of fallen




MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.    91
spirits is unholy. The second movement of the
will is that which is seen in individual volitions.
All the thousand acts that are done each day
are good or evil. Thus we behold conscience
going out to the threefold nature of man,-to
the intellect, the affections, the will.  The
one personal being is now approved or condemned.
We turn to consider our next leading proposition, viz., the obligation of man to keep the law.
There is an imperative in the soul, supreme
and final, above all the demands of appetite,
passion, desire, emotion, which man feels he
ought to obey.  This obligation has for its
basis the right, and that alone. Man has not
to search out the eternal consequences of things
before he can ascertain his duty, for this never
could be done by a finite being. He has not
to tell the number and degree of pleasurable
sensations which an action might produce before he can be prevailed upon to do it. Just
as if that action which tickles the most were
the best. A beastly morality this would be.
One must do good because it is good; he must
abstain from evil because it is evil.  It is
duty, not pleasure. The sphere of the ought
is rectitude. We must regard it as in the con



92     MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.
science, not in the blind feelings.  Take it
away from this part of the soul, and we have
no obligation at all. The mere sensitive nature
is aimless; has no power to command; cannot
lead to the right. Obligation is in the line of
moral law; in the line of unchangeable principle; in the line of good now and forever. It
is a primary and not a secondary truth. And
just so far as one acts for the right is he to be
deemed virtuous. The man who only keeps
from killing one because he would be hung if
he committed the deed, deserves no credit; he
is guilty at heart. HIe who only can be prevailed upon to assist his neighbor in distress
by the combined motives of self-interest and
pity has no goodness. That action is alone
pure which has the moral nature going out to
it because of its intrinsic goodness. Whether
we take notice of it or not, this is really the
way we judge of actions. We measure a man
by his disinterestedness. Hence the effort of
many to appear benevolent, while at heart they
are not. Only let a person tell us that he is
wholly selfish in his acts, which look benevolent to us, and we instantly condemn him. It
would seem, then, that all men, whatever their
theories, really believe that obligation is founded




MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.    93
on right, and on that only. Notice now the
laws of obligation.
1. Before I can be obligated to do a thing,
I must have the moral laiz. Each man has
this written on the substance of the soul. It
is not necessary that God should write his law
on tables of stone in order to make man accountable. Obligation might be increased by
this means, but not created. The whole world,
independently of the written word, are under
law.
2. There must be freedom of will. "Were it
not for this conscious freedom, man would be
incapable of government or obligation. Some,
indeed, would object that the possession of
such a power would render him incapable of
government. Superior to the government of
compulsion and necessity, such as that to which
matter is subject, it certainly does render him.
But not incapable of rational and moral government; for it leaves him open to the government of motives. And it is the consciousness
of his power to deal with this influence freely,
as opposed to its necessitating force, that lies
at the foundation of his sense of responsibility.
To say that any moral obligation could rest on
a creature whose actions are determined by




94      MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.
necessity, would be a self-contradiction.  If
my volitions are truly, and in every sense, necessitated, the divine jurisdiction in my breast
cannot commence till after I have willed."*
3. A great law of moral obligation is, that
it cannot be limited by time, it is eternal. We
discover this law by considering the nature of
right, and the nature of mind as related to
that. Since I am obligated to do a thing because it is right, I must be obligated forever,
inasmuch as the right cannot change. Right
from its nature is perfect; consequently it must
remain the same throughout the whole sweep
of endless duration; and obligation is thus
stamped with the same perpetuity.   Simple
mind also will be the same forever; hence it
must have an imperative running on co-extensive with its existence. I do not, of course,
mean that the mind will be the same in development throughout the boundless future, but
that it will be the same in nature; the same
faculties that constitute mind to-day will constitute mind a million of ages hence. On this
account, wherever a soul is obligated to do
right now, it is obligated always.
4. Obligation will increase forever in propor* Dr. Harris, "Man Primeval," p. 112.




MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.     95
tion to the soul's possible advantages, and pos.
sible development from these. This is a reasonable law. Whatever God has placed within
the reach of mind, there is obligation to seize
hold of it, and to have a corresponding development on account of it. If there be higher
light and higher influence than the mind can
gain, that ends the matter; the limit is the
possible, and not the impossible. If, however,
the means which God has designed for the
growth of the soul be misused, or not used at
all, and there be no growth, then what could
have been, and ought to have been, will be the
measure of accountability. Obligation to right
demands as much as this. It cannot take less;
for if it could, it would destroy itself, and
cease to be obligation. The grand law is, increase forever according to the ratio of the
possible. Any excuse thrown in for the breach
of law avails not, for wrong never can be excused; if it could, the wrong would be changed
to right, and being right, no excuse would be
needed.
5. The next law of obligation is, that it
limits itself to the relations in which one may be
placed at any given time. If one is a parent,
he stands in a certain relation to his family,




96      MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.
and has certain obligations growing out of this
which he would not have if he were not a parent. If one is translated from the province
of a mere private citizen to some official station in life, he has new obligations by reason
of the new relation in which he is placed. A
constable is not required to perform the duties
of a sovereign, nor a policeman those of an
ambassador. Each individual has a series of
relations running along with the years and circumstances of life, which relations limit the
obligation. Or if the relation in which one
finds himself be not changed for another, but
only enlarged, then, for that enlargement, we
have obligation. These five laws, we think,
cover the whole ground.
It remains for us to notice the fact that man
has broken the law. To break law is to keep
law, yet not in the same sense. If one loves,
he hates: if one hates, he loves. Man will
have an object for the affections, good or bad;
he will have a law for the mind, sinful or holy.
To be vacant, isolated, aimless, is not the condition of the human soul.  God so created
man that he must have a centre towards which
he will turn; he must have a supreme commander that will bid him go and come. The




MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.     97
true philosophy of sin is seen in this, that the
ends, objects, and states of mind peculiar to
holiness are changed, or turned completely
round. An attentive mind can see, in all the
movements of a fallen creature, the ultimate
end for which he was made, and the course of
life he ought to pursue. The reign of sin and
death suggests the reign of holiness and life.
He who sees hell cannot fail to think of
heaven.  It is quite apparent that although
man has broken the law of God, he yet has
subjected himself to another law. The change
that has been wrought in the soul by moral
evil has necessarily called into being a law of
sin. This is loved and obeyed. It is at this
point that we begin to see the true nature of
transgression.  Sin is perfected when it has
a law; doubly perfected when that law is
constantly obeyed.  God now is utterly rejected. There is a sovereignty in the existing depravity which will allow no interference.
When unlawfulness becomes law, sin culminates.
The entire cycle of human existence is now
by itself; man is working out his plans in a
sphere separated from the great spiritual impulse of the Deity. This cycle of fallen souls




98      IIiN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.
is that of mere nature. All men have dropped
down from the supernatural realm, and are
acting on a plane of being towards the earth,
-cold, cheerless, dead.  Sometimes there is
a struggling of soul when man realizes that he
is thus exiled from  God.  This struggling
arises from the motion of latent ideas and lost
rays of the divine that still remain in the fallen
mind. The fire that once burned on the altar
of the heart left behind it ashes with sparks
here and there that now and then manifest
their presence by a movement of unrest, a sigh
of the soul, a secret, hidden pain, a struggle
in the line of moral goodness, and sometimes
an effort to turn round, but yet with no holy
desire for it. Man has, on certain occasions,
dreamy and indistinct thoughts of the higher
world of being to which he once belonged, but
from which he has fallen; and so his present
nature-life does not satisfy. At such moments,
with the aid of his reason and conscience, he
will set agoing a process of gradual reformation. He carries himself along with a simple
ethical life; he moves the outer edge of his
being; while the great central sweep of his
character is never less than before; that still
keeps within the dread cycle of death and




MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.     99
darkness.  Sin against God, whatever the
turnings of the soul, is never reduced, but
ever increased.  God is still opposed; self is
still followed.
There is an outgoing influence connected with
sin. What a strange system  that would be
where each being was isolated; influencing
none, influenced by none; a mighty collection
of intellectual atoms with no affinity; simply
a heap of passionless monads! Such is not
the system which the All-wise has chosen. The
sin of the archangel who fell in heaven lives today among earth's millions; and among the
subsequent generations of time it will live still,
even to the last; sin has no last. It would
seem, with some great principle of generalization before us, as if the whole universe were related. One almost thinks that there are echoes
of sin which can be heard throughout the most
distant regions of creation; vapors of evil that
may ascend to the very atmosphere of heaven,
causing for a moment a commotion as they
pass to spheres beyond. It is certain, at any
rate, that kindred minds who are fallen move
and turn each other. A principle of disorder
has been introduced into spiritual natures,




100     MAN A TRANSGRESSOR OF LAW.
which makes one being strike against the
other.
We now reach the important thought that
man is demeritorious for not keeping the law.
" Our moral convictions declare that sin is of
evil desert, condemnable, punishable.  This
conviction is of precisely an opposite character
to that which we entertain in regard to good
affection and action. We declare the sin to
have in itself evil desert; we condemn it in
consequence, and we say of it, that it should
be discouraged, nay, punished.   The very
ideas, so full of meaning, involved in these
mental convictions, are native, original, and
necessary. We cannot get them from mere
sensations of pleasure or pain, or from any
intellectual operation whatever; and yet we
are constrained to take this view of sin wherever it is pressed fairly upon our notice. I t is
this conviction that stirs up and keeps alive a
sense of guilt and apprehension of punishment
in the breast of every sinner. It is found
even among children, and among the rudest
and most ignorant savages, who are urged
thereby to try some means of avoiding or
averting the wrath of God, and who are prepared in consequence to listen to the parent,




THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW. 101
or teacher, or missionary, when he speaks of
the desert of sin, and points to the Saviour
who suffered in our room and stead, and so
made reconciliation for transgressors."*
SECTION II.
THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW.
IF we would understand the essence of
atonement, we must understand the essence of
law. Whatever we make the one we necessarily make the other. If the law be nothing
but a cold abstraction, the atonement will partake of its nature,-it will look like it. If on
the other hand it is inseparably connected with
personal being, guiding and measuring  the
moral life of souls, or expressing the holy
tendency of the divine mind, then, it is a living, beautiful reality, imaging forth the nature
of that device which must be introduced into
the system  of God, in order to sustain it.
Law personified and acted out is love; lawlessness is hatred.  The scheme, then, which
is designed to uphold law must have love for
its great characteristic.  It is impossible to
* McCosh, "Intuitions of the Mind,' p. 301.




102     THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW.
satisfy it with anything short of this, for law
knows nothing but love. Whether I look to
honoring justice or holiness, government or
God, it makes no difference, love, and that
alone, must do the work. This view compels
me to look upward to that great Being who
is love itself, and compels me to see that
redemption for my soul can never be wrought
out save by an infinite act of love. Under
a system of human law this loving characteristic is not deemed necessary, inasmuch
as human law is mainly external; but under
the divine law outward conformity is nothing,
-" Love is the fulfilling  of the law."
Whether it be in the sorrow that agitated
the soul of the Innocent, or in the suffering that rent his lofty being, it was the
love that sorrowed and the love that suffered
from the cradle to the cross.    i He was
obedient in acting and obedient in suffering;
but his acting was an act of suffering, and his
suffering the highest voluntary act. He drank
the cup which his Father gave him; but his
meat and drink was to do the will of his
Father.  While he was like sinners in all
things, sin excepted, in the active obedience of
his life he bore the penalty of sin, even death;




THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW. 103
and the final death-struggle was nothing else
than the consummation of his suffering activity;'he was obedient even unto death.'     And
though he drank this cup with deliberate love,
since it was his Father's will, yet was this
suffering also his highest act of voluntary
obedience."'  I can find no word that gives
such meaning to the redemptive mission of.
Jesus as the word love.    If he endured a
single pang or performed a single deed in
order to uphold law which was not characterized by love, I know not where to find it.
We doubtless fail on account of the habit we
have cultivated of exclusively contemplating
the ctonement instead of the Atoner.  We seem
evermore to be thinking of a work, and not of a
person.  A  refined system  of idolatry has
led us to adore the symbol, instead of the
Saviour.  The tendency of the philosophical
mind to abstract thinking has led to a separation of the remedy from the Redeemer.
The divine law is sustained by divine love.
First, the love which sustains the law that
man has broken is unique in its character. I
nmean by this to affirm, that it could only have
been conceived and carried out by a divine
* Tholuck, " Guido and Julius," p. 143.




104  THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW.
person. It is a new thing in the universe; it
is a new method of honoring law. The human
reason may examine its claims when once the
divine fact appears, but it has no power to go
back of this. The redemptive love of the Godman stands very much in the same relation to
finite mind as the existence of sin in the
universe. No superior intelligence would ever
imagine that moral evil would be allowed to
darken any world of the divine system; and,
after sin had found a place in the dominions
of the Creator, none would suppose that he
would descend to earth, and there with loftiest
love sustain the law which man had broken.
Human sin and divine love are beyond the
reason of mortals. Faint types of the Christian remedy may be seen here and there, but
nothing just like it has occurred or will occur
in the onward march of history. There is no
doubt a law of progress in the universal system of the Infinite which makes certain the
advent of some great Deliverer, yet it is questionable whether the whole truth respecting his
person and mission would enter any mind prior
to his coming. When once we have found the
first man, we may go backward among the centuries and inhabitants of the geologic earth,




THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW.  105
and there see anticipations of an intellectual
dynasty that must begin at the close of the
great working week of the Almighty. So in
like manner when once we behold Eternal
Love coming under the conditions of time and
place, entering into humanity, and forming a
part of its history, we may, with such a light
around us, see, through all the past, hints and.
prophecies of a new redemptive age centering
in "the second man, the Lord from heaven."
Aside from this, all is uncertain and unsatisfactory. The Redeemer is wholly a mystery
of love. "The mode of achieving salvation,"
remarks Henry Rogers, "though we cannot,
a priori, speculate on it, was the result of a
great moral necessity, which Love was resolved
to confront since it could not evade it. And
hence it is that so many millions, won and vanquished by this spectacle, have declared (and
this is the only just influence of the doctrine)
that it is the atonement which has chiefly furnished them, as with hope and peace, so with
the strongest motives to revere justice, to obey
law, to'go and sin no more.' "  And what
lends peculiar significance to this exalted
method of sustaining law is the likelihood
* The Greyson Letters, p. 236.




106   THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW.
that as it is original, so it is also final. Such
an exhibition of superior benevolence will
doubtless never again astonish the inhabitants
of any world, nor smile along the years of any
age of a deep futurity.  It forms a special
intervention of the Deity in behalf of a rebellious province of his empire, never to be repeated, but to stand forth as a stupendous meinorial throughout eternity, claiming the admiration of all intelligences.  This feature
seems to augment, if possible, a love which
already is infinite, and seems to make a violated law doubly secure and doubly honorable.
Nothing more than this could any one wish;
nothing better could any one claim. The law
is upheld by a miracle of love.
Secondly, no finite being could demand as his
due the manifestation of this peculiar love.
God was not the debtor of the universe;
neither man nor angel could demand the performance of such a work of benevolence. The
idea never entered any mind that such a love
was even possible; consequently there could
be no thought of claiming it.  This fact shuts
the door of obligation at once. Colmmon law
cannot claim atoning love. Indeed, law throughout the universe asks no more than the usual




THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW.  107
sinless obedience of accountable beings. There
is an element of sacrifice and self-denial quite
apparent in the love of Christ, which cannot
of right be demanded of any of the pure intellects of heaven.  I can see no other way
than to place this great righteousness of the
Redeemer in a sphere by itself. Although he
lived upon the earth, he also lived upon a plane
of being far above the earth, and entirely distinct from that which marks the common life
of pure spirits. It would seem as if this high
Ransomer came forth at the bidding of some
transcendental law of his own nature. His love
was such that, all things considered, it seemed
best to erect a theatre before the universe;
best to act out a life wholly like himself, that
thus the law might be established which man
had broken. In this way the whole redemptive
act is a feature of the higher sphere of Mind.
It is purely supernatural from beginning to
end. What the finite could not claim, the Infinite could. That which may be called the
great law of the atonement had its origin in
the law of the Godhead. Love was the reason and love was the act. The voluntary tendency of the divine nature was towards Calvary.  This prepared the atonement; this




108 THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW.
carried it out to a completion. It might almost
seem as if the law were honored, in part, by the
simple existence of redeeming mercy in the
Godhead, while as yet it had not been manifested in the person of Christ. And, surely,
if the law is thus dignified by the antecedent
movement of love, much more is it by its subsequent movement. At any rate, it seems
quite certain that the princely benevolence of
Jesus adds greater dignity to law and greater
glory to God, than a mere system of-pardon
which has no atonement. " That human nature
might be restored, or any portion of mankind
be eternally saved unto the glory of God, it
was necessary that an obedience should be
yielded unto God and his law which should give
and bring more glory and honor unto his holiness than there was dishonor reflected on it by
the disobedience of us all."'
Thirdly, Christ upholds the law by a love
which is inimitable. Viewing the life of Jesus
from a human stand-point, we may say that all
should imitate it. He is the great pattern of
the race. But when we view that wonderful
life as but the process of love in time for the
sustentation of law. then we affirm that it
* John Owen, Works, vol. i. p. 20(.




THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW. 109
cannot be imitated. It is impossible for any
created being to act over again atoning love.
It does not come within the sphere of the finite.
A new plane was struck out purposely by it,
and purposely for it. We must of necessity
have a God-man passing through scenes of sorrow and woe, before we can have even the
groundwork of such a love. And as we have
noticed, it is not even probable that the Deity
will manifest again such strange benevolence.
The sacrifice is too mighty ever to be repeated.
An unspeakable importance thus attaches to
it. Its inimitable character loads the universe
with profit and the law with honor. The whole
significance of the point before us is seen just
here, that Christ had a supernatural existence
and a supernatural benevolence.  He came
among men from above, and not according to
the common course of nature; he lived among
them as human, and yet he was divine. He
formed thus a kind of parenthesis in the history of time and eternity. Though as man he
was conditioned by laws of human development, his spiritual consciousness was none the
less redemptive; for he was God as well as
man. He had what may be called an atoning
experience. Made under the law like others,




110   THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW.
he could not forget that he was unlike all men
in that he was the vicarious Upholder of law.
le was living not with exclusive reference to
himself, but with reference to the world he
came to save. Hence he viewed sin and its
punishment, God and his government, not as
man, but as Mediator.
These mere hints are suggestive. There is
a wondrous height and depth connected with
the life of Christ. We find no satisfaction in
viewing him simply as the good man, the exemplar of the race, the reformer of the world.
His merely human position in history is beautiful, attractive, perfect. Yet the human to us
is great because the divine is there with it.
His life, as no other, was a life of God. For
our part, we cannot understand the unparalleled
love of Jesus unless we give an atoning significance to it. When we see that he was acting
evermore with reference to a law that man had
broken, was preparing a righteousness which
might be made available in law for the justification of the believing sinner, then all is clear
and satisfactory; but all is confused and inexplicable without this. It is easier to believe
that his love was redemptive, than that it was
like that manifested by any other pure mind.




THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW. 111
"Who that is acquainted with the nation, fanatical, rough, vicious, and indocile, toward which
he exhibited such love and forbearance; who
that knows the danger with which he was daily
threatened, and the snares laid with so much
art to entrap him; who that reflects upon the
ingratitude with which he was treated, the
contempt with which his most benevolent deeds
were repelled, and the most honest dispositions
and feelings of his heart calumniated; who
that calls to mind the agonies with which he
was ultimately put to death, and the insulting
manner in which his benevolence was recompensed; who, I say, that reflects upon all this,
will feel competent to measure the height, the
depth, the length, and the breadth of that
love, which offered itself in sacrifice for such a
people?"   "The love of Christ, which passeth knowledge," is doubly mysterious, if only a
moral and not a redemptive power belongs to
it. It is remedial from first to last. There is
no more fitting motto for the plan of salvation
than this —THE LORD OUR RIGHTENESS."
It may be well before closing this section,
just to notice the way that this righteousness
)f Christ meets the wants of the guilty mind.
* Reinhard, " Plan of Christianity," p. 241.




112 THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW.
When we analyze guilt, two distinct characteristics are seen. First, the person has a sense
of sinfulness; secondly, he feels that he is exposed to punisnment.  Under the first experience, an internal work of grace is needed;
under the second, an external work.    The
redemption of the God-man must be two-fold;
it must be subjective and objective. a. The
guilty man is conscious of sin; and therefore
needs pardon and purification.  The antecedent
of pardon is repentance; hence the sinner must
repent.  When he does repent, the work of
purification is begun. The man feels that he
has broken the law, dishonored God, polluted
the soul, and so he breaks off his sins by
righteousness. All past sin being forgiven, and
a principle of holiness introduced into the
heart, the guilty conscience is quieted.  In due
time the person is wholly sanctified. b. The
man is exposed to punishment; justification and
eternal life are needed. The antecedent of
justification is faith; the guilty soul must
therefore believe in Christ.  When the act of
faith is exercised, heaven is made sure: "He
that believeth shall be saved." The righteousness of the Redeemer enables a sinner to stand
right in law when it is received by faith. The




THE GOD-MAN A SUSTAINER OF LAW.  113
punishment that was feared is now gone forever. Peace the most serene, joy the most
exulting, may possess the breast of the true
Chrsitian. Sin and hell are removed; holiness
and heaven are bestowed. The work of Christ
thus fits exactly the sinful mind. There is a
beautiful simplicity in the method of salvation
when thus viewed in its relation to the constituents of guilt.




CHAPTER V.
PUNISHMENT APPREHENDED: THE DIVINE
SUFFERER.
SECTION I,
THE SOUL'S PROPIIECY OF FUTURE MISERY.
As we attempt to analyze this movement
of the soul, we find the following points:
a. There is a vision of a future event. This
action of conscience is just the opposite of the
action of memory. Conscience is inventive;
memory is not. A thing is seen which never
has happened, but which is to happen. b. This
prophesied event belongs to eternity, and not to
time. It is not merely future as it respects
the things of earth; it is not something that
will happen to one before death; but the mind
crosses the grave, stands on the margin of eternity, and there beholds what is to be the lot
of the wicked. c. The event is one of wrath.
The prophetic announcement of the soul relates to evil, not to good; to punishment, not




OF FUTURE MISERY.         115
to reward.  It is not a mere scene of affliction
that the awakened mind sees before it; not a
series of mighty accidents that are to befall
it; but it is positive punishment. There is no
sentence which expresses it with such truthfulness as this-"' A fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation."  d. This punishment is objective, both as it respects its nature
and author. The mind is not the punisher:
the punishment is not the same as that which
conscience inflicts.  The guilty soul fears
another evil besides remorse; another Being
besides self. Man looks forward to a Divine
Judge; forwa'd to a divine punishment.
The point, then, to be noted is this, that sinful man apprehends a punishment different from
that of conscience.  We call this punishment
objective, to contradistinguish it from those
subjective sufferings which are purely natural,
which are the constitutional result of sin.
Many have adopted a theory of punishment,
which does not include that objective punishment we here refer to; and the reason doubtless is, that the revelations of conscience are
not sufficiently examined. This we may affirm
with certainty, that at the moment when one
has the greatest agony of soul because of sin,




116         THE SOUL'S PROPHI 1Y
he has the greatest fear of God because of that
punishment which he is to inflict on the guilty.
This shows that mere natural suffering is hot
deemed sufficient; it does not exhaust the full
penalty of the law. As the point before us is
of great importance, I propose to offer some
reasons to substantiate it.
1. Men generally believe that there will be
objective rewards hereafter; consequently it is
equally reasonable to believe that there will be
objective punishments.  The idea that reward
alone may be calculated on, but not punishment, is suspicious. It looks as if men were
quite willing to take the good which Divine
Mercy may bestow, but very unwilling to take
the evil which Divine Justice deems to be necessary. If the principle be false which asserts
that God will punish the wicked in addition to
mental sufferings caused by sin, how can the
principle be true which asserts that God will
reward the righteous in addition to the mental
happiness caused by holiness? The only consistent course is either to receive both or to
reject both. I would have the man, then, who
will not believe in the divine punishment,
neither to believe in the divine reward; but to
say that the only hell is a wicked heart, and




OF FUTURE MISERY.        117
the only heaven a good one; which will give
us as many hells and as many heavens as there
are individuals. The man who decides against
punishment is prejudiced in his own favor.
The soul shrinks from suffering, while it pants
for happiness. These two opposite instincts
are quite likely to influence the judgment, causing it to affirm that the agreeable is alone to be
looked for.
2. The general belief of the race respecting
objective punishments is a strong argument in
their favor. This fact is of very great importance, inasmuch as it seems to have its ground
in human nature. If any one will try and
muster courage enough to say that this belief
of the race is not well founded, he will find it
no easy matter. It is not a little remarkable
to see such complete harmony, considering the
fearful nature of that which is believed; and
this very fact, we think, is additional proof of
its correctness; for though all were to believe
in future happiness as the eternal heritage of
mankind, this, because of its pleasing nature,
would not furnish such satisfactory evidence
as the opposite fact. The few minds that have
denied the doctrine of divine punishments are
as nothing compared with those who have re



118          THE SOUL'S PROPHECY
ceived it; and even the denial is a presumptive proof to the contrary; for taking human
nature as it is, we might by all means think
that some would reject such a burning truth.
Yet the whole world is wiser thanr any one of us.
3. If there be no objective punishments,
there is no positive moral government.  The
very idea of a positive moral government is
that of an objective system where divine authority is exercised over moral agents through
the medium of law; which law has rewards
and penalties affixed to it other than those that
are natural. If we believe, then, that there is
no punishment besides that of conscience, do
we have any divine moral government? Suppose that all the penalties affixed to human
laws were set aside, would there be any human government? There would not. Men
might steal and kill and go to the utmost limit
in wickedness, but they could not be punished,
inasmuch as there is no state authority. In
the same way the government of God is annihilated, if there be no positive punishment.
God himself also is dethroned. Instead of
being a King, he is simply a Creator; instead
of being "the Judge of all the earth," he is
simply the Sustainer of all the earth.




OF FUTURE MISERY.         119
4. If there be no divine punishment, there
is no accountability to God. How can God's
intelligent creatures feel under obligation to
obey him, since he is not their Sovereign?
He cannot punish them for disobedience, be
their crimes ever so aggravated.  In fact, according to the theory under consideration, sin
has no relation to God in any possible respect.
All are sovereigns, and simply accountable to
themselves. He indeed is greater than they
are; but this can make no essential difference
so long as he lacks power to call them to an account. All are on a level,-the Infinite and
the finite stand side by side.
5. If there be no objective punishments, a
premium is offered for crime. One grand idea
of having a class of punishments superadded
to those that are purely natural, is to restrain
moral beings from sin. It is impossible, as
things are, to see the highest amount of goodness, when the only penalty that is dreaded is
a guilty conscience. This has great influence
when united with something else; but keep it
by itself, and in most cases it must fail. If
any one doubts this, let him just imagine that all
the governments under heaven were dissolved.
What would be the result of this? The whole




120          THE SOUL'S PROPHECY
world would be in a state of anarchy. The
good, if there were any, would be set at
naught: the wicked would riot and reign as
they pleased. Tell men now that, if they commit crimes, they will feel the bad effects in a
troubled conscience. What will they care for
that. Such a motive is too feeble to keep the
soul from rushing headlong into sin. "It is
often said by Cicero and others," remarks
Dr. Knapp, " that all philosophers, both Greek
and Roman, are agreed in this, that the gods
do not punish. But as soon as this opinion
of the philosophers began to prevail among the
people, it produced, according to the testimony
of all Roman writers, the most disastrous consequences, which lasted for centuries. No subsequent efforts could ever succeed in awakening
a fear of divine punishments in the minds of
the great multitude. Hence resulted the deplorable degeneracy of the Roman empire.
Truth and faith ceased, chastity became contemptible, perjury was practiced without shame,
and every species of luxurious excess and of cruelty was indulged. To this corruption no philosopher was able to oppose any effectual resistance; until at length its course was arrested by
Christianity." "Among Christians themselves




OF FUTURE MISERY.         121
such efforts have always been followed by similar disastrous consequences."  "The papal
sale of indulgences, which became general during the twelfth and succeeding centuries, and
especially after the crusades, had a tendency
in the same way to diminish the fear of positive divine punishments, because it was supposed one might purchase exemption from
them. The result of this delusion was equally
deplorable in this case as in the one before
mentioned; the greatest immoralities prevailed
throughout Christian lands; until this evil was
arrested by the reformation, and the fear and
the love of God were both awakened anew in
the hearts of Christians." "A similar result
took place in England in the latter half of the
seventeenth century, when some rationalistic
philosophers, during the reign of Charles II.,
undertook to emancipate the minds of men
from the fear of positive divine punishments.
The effect of their efforts is well known from
history. Frivolity of spirit, immorality, sins
of impurity, and all the dreadful consequences
of forgetting God, suddenly prevailed."  "The
principles of these English philosophers were
gradually diffused throutgh France by the writings of Voltaire, Diderot, and others; and
6




122         THE SOUL'S PROPHECY
after 1740 they were also adopted and disseminated by some even in Germany.  The history
of our own times shows us sufficiently what
has been the result of these principles." 
Thus the demoralization consequent upon the
disbelief of positive punishments is enough to
show their necessity.
Reasons equally forcible with the above
might be multiplied, but it is needless to enlarge. It seems obvious that there is a punishment of God, as well as a punishment of the
soul. Having considered the former, we must
attempt to give a brief statement of the latter.
To have natural evils follow infringement of
law is a wise arrangement of the Deity. If
one injures his health, he will have pain; if he
puts his hand into the fire, he will be burned;
if he leaps from a lofty precipice, he will be
killed. So, too, if one breaks the moral law,
what more reasonable than to have a series of
evils spring up in the soul, inflicting vengeance
where it is justly due. The natural sufferings
which will agitate the guilty mind in the future
state may be thus analyzed:1. There will be complete unhappiness.
This will not be occasional, but constant. And
* "Christian Theology," p. 547.




OF FUTURE MISERY.        123
when any one considers how the soul pants for
happiness, it will be seen how mighty the misery must be. There will be unceasing agony
without the least alleviation. 2. There will be
T,he conscious disapprobation of self. The soul
will come down upon itself with a fearful condemnation.  The light of eternity shining into
the fallen spirit has made the conscience to
awake; and the man abhors himself for what
he is, and for what he has been. 3. There will
also be the conscious disapprobation of God and
the good. The soul will not dare to look up;
it will shrink back into itself, the contrast will
be so great. The vision of Deity, with all his
spotless purity and perfect hatred of sin, will be
enough to isolate the soul forever. The neverdying spirit will be utterly petrified in its dark
and deep depravity. It cannot look the Divine
One in the face; and despising itself, it does this
the more by reason of the eternal frown of the
Supreme. The wicked soul will feel also in
the keenest manner the disapprobation of all
the good. There will be the intense realization that every pure being condemns, and must
condemn. Thus the soul will be unable to gain
the least respect from any whose respect is
desirable. Condemned by self, by God, by all




124         THE SOUL'S PROPHECY
the good, the soul can only harrow itself on
this account. 4. Shame therefore will take
possession of the sinful mind. It can gain the
favor of none; it is disgraced, held in contempt; and so it stands abashed and confounded;
conscious of its fallen condition the more by
reason of the purity and opinions of others.
The soul will see what it might have been;
how holy and happy; the associate of the noble and good; but now the companion of the
most depraved. This fact realized will drink
up the very life of the spirit. 5. Bitter sorrow will then take pessession of the soul.
Grief, such as this world never saw, will wring
the spirit from hour to hour, as it evermore
sees and feels its outcast and abandoned condition. The fountain of sorrow in the soul will
be tumultuous with a new energy, and it will
flow through all the parts thereof. One sea
of mental anguish will ever heave; and there
will be nothing but "weeping and wailing and
gnashing of teeth."  6. Passions will rage
among themselves, will seek to be satisfied,
but will not. A  thousand wants will cry:
they will not be regarded. There will be a
continual craving from different points of the
soul: nothing shall feed the eternal hunger.




OF FUTURE MISERY.        125
Consequently the immortal spirit will devour
itself. 7. Remorse will be kindled into a
burning intensity by the lamp of memory.
The past will crowd about the soul; and it will
writhe and groan and suffer and die. Remorse
will sit upon the heart and gnaw it like a vulture, will sting it like a fiery serpent; and this
shall be continuous as the hours, and endless
as the night of hell. 8. Black despair will
then settle down upon tle soul. No good will
appear within the whole compass of mind;
nothing but evil, nothing but misery,-hope
will be dead. Night without a single ray;
gloomy, sullen, dreary.  The soul will be
hemmed in. Though surrounded with millions, there will be a profound solitude. What
a sight in eternity to see a soul exiled within
itself!-a soeul alone in absolute agony and
despair!-scorched and withered and dead!
Such, in condensed language, is a statement
of the natural consequences of sin; that punishment which the soul will inflict on itself.
What we say it is, is as nothing to what it
shall be.  Suffering endured, is far different
from suffering delineated. Is this, however,
the whole of natural punishment?  Is it correct to confine it to the simple action of the




126         THE SOUL'S PROPHECY
mind? Will there be no suffering connected
with the future body?  However common it
may be to confine natural punishment to the
soul, I must believe that the body will share in
the misery-of hereafter. The material part of
man suffers in the present life on account of
moral evil, and why should it not suffer in the
future life? I admit that the body which the
soul is to inhabit throughout eternity will be,
in many respects, different from that which
now lives and dies. It will doubtless have
greater capabilities and powers. But this very
fact rather increases than lessens the evil. If
the future body be so made that, when allied
to a pure mind, its enjoyment is increased a
thousand-fold, then, when allied to an impure
mind, its misery is increased to the same extent.  The greater the being, the greater the
joy or sorrow. Fulness of created life, intense
vigor, eagerness to expatiate in a boundless
sphere, yet no opportunity to exercise,-this
would necessarily produce extreme agony.
The whole material nature would thus be turned
into one raging appetite, eternally craving, but
eternally unheeded.  "If corporeal restraint
and imprisonment be one of the most intolerable of bodily ills, what shall imprisonment be




OF FUTURE MISERY.         127
when the locomotive energy is a thousand
times more vehement than at present, and
when the exercise of it is attended with no
conscious effort, and is followed by no lassitude,
and when the widest and the fairest fields shall
lie in prospect before it? The chain of the
captive is galling, in proportion, or nearly
so, to the captive's animal vigor and elastic
spirit. Let it then be imagined that the future
man, new born to his inheritance of absolute
mechanical force-the inherent force of mind,
and finding himself able at will to traverse all
spaces, should, in the very hour wherein he
he has made proof of his recent faculty, be
stopped, either by malignant superior powers,
or by the dread ministers of justice, and on
account of forgotten misdeeds, be seized, enchained, incarcerated "-   By  this  simple
thought, it can be seen how much of suffering
may be connected with the state or condition
of the body.
When it is understood also that the mind
hereafter will be aroused to unwonted energy,
we can easily perceive how its intensified
thought, its unutterable grief, its raging sin,
will wound and poison and torment the body.
* Isaac Taylor, "Physical Theory of another Life," chap. x.




128         THE SOUL'S PROPHECY
It is impossible for the one nature to be affected
and not the other.  "We must never forget,"
says Dr. Channing, "that in that world mind
or character is to exert an all-powerful sway;
and accordingly, it is rational to believe, that
the corrupt and deformed mind, which wants
moral goodness, or a spirit of concord with
God and with the universe, will create for itself, as its fit dwelling, a deformed body, which
will also want concord or harmony with all
things around it. Suppose this to exist, and
the whole creation which now amuses, may
become an instrument of suffering, fixing the
soul with a more harrowing consciousness on
itself. You know that even now, in consequence of certain derangements of the nervous
system, the beautiful light gives acute pain,
and sounds, which once delighted us, become
shrill and distressing. How often this excessive irritableness of the body has its origin in
moral disorders, perhaps few of us suspect. I
apprehend, indeed, that we should be all
amazed, were we to learn to what extent the
body is continually incapacitated for enjoyment, and made susceptible of suffering, by
sins of the heart and life."  How easily, then,
may the mind hereafter frame the future body




OF FUTURE MISERY.         129
according to itself, so that, in proportion to
its vice, it will receive, through its organs and
senses, impressions of gloom, which it will feel
to be the natural productions of its own depravity." *
SECTION       II.
THE GOD-MAN A SUFFER ER.
THE doctrine of the innocent suffering for
the guilty is oftentimes presented under an array of defensive argument that appears to us
wholly unnecessary. It looks as if we were
clinging to some abstract speculation pertaining
to the divine government, —— a speculation which
runs counter to the immutable rectitude and
justice of the Deity. As well discuss the
question whether a finite intelligence can sin
under the administration of a God of absolute
love, as whether a sinless person can suffer
under the administration of a God of absolute
justice.  Both are facts; and that ends the
matter.  Man has fallen: Christ has died.
The sceptic, not less than the Christian, believes that Jesus suffered.  The only difference
* Works, vol. iv. p. 164, Boston ed.




130       THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.
between the two is-the former asserts that he
suffered for no sins at all; the latter, that he
laid down his life for the guilty. Which view
harmonizes with truth and right can only be
seen by attending carefully to the sublime fact
itself.  Which view furnishes a full and adequate reason for the sufferings of Jesus will
appear from what follows.
The fact that eighteen hundred years ago
an innocent person suffered ought to arrest attention. Why should it be?    The mind is
really startled. A strange thing has happened
in the universe.  It is true, in a certain sense,
that the innocent oftentimes suffer in this world
on account of the guilty, though not in the room
and stead of the guilty. Children suffer because of wicked parents, citizens because of
wicked rulers.  Such kind of vicarious suffering is, indeed, common under the present constitution of things. Yet it is worthy of special
attention that all who thus suffer are not sinless,
but sinful. Even infants belong to a depraved
race. There is a disease in all souls; a shadow
covers them; death reigns. The resemblance
is not complete therefore between the so-called
innocents of earth, and the Innocent One of
heaven. He is the solitary Sufferer of human



THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.     131
ity. "He trod the wine-press alone; and of
the people there was none with him."  As far
as we know, but one pure and holy being has
suffered in the government of God. This may
well astonish us. When Christ made known
to his disciples that he should " suffer many
things of the elders and chief priests and
scribes, and be killed," I am not surprised that
"Peter took him, and began to rebuke him,
saying, Be it fair from thee Lord: this shall not
be unto thee."  Clearly enough this is the first
impulse of mind awakened by the sight of
stainless purity. Why should the innocent
thus suffer and die?  No trifling reason will
account for this. The isolation and strangeness of the whole affair point to some great
and comprehensive plan; some mighty emergency is to be met, some lofty purpose to be
realized.
And yet I am told that Jesus suffered that
he might show an example to the race!. Really
this appears like irony. The thought is presented in its most favorable light by Dr. Channing. u' We are to visit the cross," he says,
"not to indulge a natural softness, but to acquire firmness of spirit, to fortify our minds
for hardship and suffering in the cause of duty




132       THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.
and of human happiness. To live as Christ
lived, to die as Christ died, to give up ourselves as sacrifices to God, to conscience, to
whatever good interest we can advance,-these
are the lessons written with the blood of Jesus.
His cross is to inspire us with a calm courage,
resolution, and superiority to all temptation." *
These are noble lessons that are to be taught
by the crucifixion of "the Lord of glory."
But surely, if such be the explanation of suffering innocence, the whole is shrouded in the
most profound mystery. Wonderful example
truly, that the most perfect life should have
connected with it the most extreme anguish
and pain! Does the Sovereign of the universe
mean to teach me that the greater my sin, the
less my punishment? the greater my holiness,
the more abundant my suffering?  Whatever
example the patient Redeemer may have shown
me by his sorrowful life and painful death, I
cannot but think that an example of a different
kind is exhibited to mortals by the Divine
Being himself, which really destroys any good
impression that might be made on the souls of
men by Calvary and the cross. The manifest
want of wisdom and justice on the part of the
* Works, vol. iv, p. 207.




THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.      133
Deity by this view of the matter is so apparent that we cannot for a moment receive it.
The light that seems to come to man darkens
the Godhead. A needless sacrifice is made.
Why such agony and woe, merely to teach me
the superior virtues of human nature? —— virtues which are admitted to have made their
appearance long before the Messianic age. If
I desire to see noble trust and faithfulness,
they are found in Abraham; if rectitude and
patience, in Job; if fortitude and self-denial,
in the martyred prophets. I say not that the
best and greatest of men were equal to Jesus,
for they were imperfect while he was perfect,
they were hulman while he was divine; but I
do say that the lesson which he was supposed
to teach by his collective sufferings could have
been taught at a less price, and with less
injury to the moral system of God.
And what increases the difficulty is that I
behold an unusual depth and kleenness to the
sufferings of Christ. It is not that he pressed
forward to illustrate the whole of a perfected
morality with pain and punishment before him,
but it is that his soul was evermore agitated
with the deepest grief that makes his case peculiar. There was an agony of mind apart




134      THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.
from, and independent of, all the persecutions
of the wicked. A mysterious sorrow possessed
his spirit, which cannot be explained upon natural principles.  le was perfectly holy —why
then this sorrow? Admit that he suffered at
the hands of men, this does not account for
the peculiar fact. Just before his betrayal, he
is the subject of the most painful emotions. He
says, "My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even
unto death."  Three times he offers up the
same condensed prayer of grief: " 0 my Father,
if it be possible, let this cup pass from me."
What does this mean?    Hundreds of men
have gone to the stake rejoicing,-men who
were guilty and needed forgiveness; yet the
only innocent being that has appeared since the
Adamic fall is in trouble,-trouble, if we may
believe it, such as others passed through with
the greatest ease! He even craves the sympathy of his three favored disciples: "tarry
ye here, and watch with me." The' infinite
Redeemer begs support from his creatures!
" He, the helper of the world, confesses to those
to whom he brings help his own need of it, and
really requests help from those even who were
unable to render it." The rationalistic hypothesis is not sufficient to explain this. The Bib



THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.      135
lical view is the only true one: "He was
wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised
for our iniquities," I make no attempts to
measure his agony; I say not that he suffered
the concentrated punishment of the misery
everlasting; I only affirm that his suffering was
unique, was great; that it has had no parallel
in time. I can see as he hung on the cross, that
he had other sufferings than those that were
the result of crucifixion; other than those
that were produced by priest and scribe with all
their hatred; other than those that the two
thieves on either side of him experienced,sufferings which no martyr or criminal at the
scaffold ever knew. What is the theological
import of that strange cry, " My God, my God,
why hast thou forsaken me?" The mind is
confused and puzzled if we admit no atonement in all this. To say that he suffered as
an example is without fitness or reason. No
idea but that of a world's redemption is the
one that explains the matter. There is no possible reason why God should forsake his Son,
leaving him in darkness, dismay, and agony of
soul, upon the supposition that he was merely
showing to mankind the noblest of the active
and passive virtues. We should rather think




136      THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.
that the most blessed revelations of the Divine
Being would have illumined and comforted his
mind at the trying moment. Yea, it is matter
of certainity that God must have acted in this
manner, inasmuch as Christ was a sinless being. There seems therefore, a complete turning round of the moral attributes of the Deity
by such strange conduct. An eclipse covers
the mind of Jesus and the mind of God at the
same instant of time, when both, according to
the hypothesis, oughlt to have been luminous
with visible joy. The divine benevolence is
thus at fault. The moral reason of man affirms
that God will smile upon the good and will
frown upon the evil, but here he seems to do
the contrary. I can understand all this, when
I know that the God-man took the place of the
guilty and suffered for them; but by the opposite view there is nothing but confusion. The
whole matter comes to this, that Christ either
was a sinner, or he made an atonement. If he
sinned, his sufferings were the result of his
own guilt: if he was sinless, his sufferings were
endured for the guilt of others. That he was
without sin is the common belief; consequently
he suffered and died for sinners of mankind.
Now, the singularity and greatness of the




THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.       137
passion of Jesus fit exactly the troubled conscience of man. Guilt cries out for.suffering;
and the more intense the suffering the more
satisfaction there is to the moral faculty. If
God has to be appeased, so has man.   The
human nature is fashioned according to the
image of the divine nature. The wrath of
conscience has the same meaning as the wrath
of God. That is, there is a recoil from moral
evil, there is an abhorunce of it, there is indignation against it, there is a cry for punishment,
in both cases. When I see a criminal so tormented in his mind that he must deliver himself up to be punished, in order to satisfy his
conscience, I can see at a glance the moral fitness of the sufferings of Christ.  Salvation
without suffering is impossible. All the painful
rites of Heathenism prove it. All the forebodings of the guilty establish it. What is
the moral significance of the suicide of Judas?
Obviously this, that he considered his sin too
great for forgiveness or atonement. He slew
himself as if he would present a human sacrifice
to satisfy the burning anger of his soul. The
body was put to death: the soul was committed
over to God to be punished. This might be
called a natural atonement. It was the climax




138     THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.
of human power in the line of making a sacri.
fice for sin,-more cannot be done than this.
Guilt may make one slay a lamb, a child; but
when it compels to self-immolation, the end is
reached. It is strange that this last and greatest of human atonements should stand side by
side with the divine atonement,-the natural
and the supernatural were together. The despair and death of man introduced hope and
life from God. Yea, the very sin which occasioned the destruction of Judas, occasioned the
crucifixion of Jesus! Never were guilt and
suffering so strangely connected.
Then, too, we ought to know that although
conscience apprehends a puniszhent that is
future, the punishment is grounded upon a sin
that is past; and, consequently, the sufferings
of the God-man must be retrospective in their
influence. The true idea ef the atonement is
shadowed forth in this strange action of the
mind. My fear of the divine punishment is
proportioned to the amount of my past transgression; hence the sufferings of Christ have
a bearing on the punishment just to the extent
that they have a bearing on the sin that causes
it. They could not relate to one, to the exclusion of the other. The atonement, therefore,




THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.     139
is but the outward expression of the inward
experience. The cross and the conscience fit
each other. This being the case, what effect
does the death of Jesus have upon the punish..
nment of man?
1. The greater part of punishment is held
back from every human being during the present life. It is certain that the full penalty of
the law is not executed upon any one of the
human family dulring his sojourn in time; and
the only way of accounting for this is by the
atonement of the Redeemer. He who was
innocent suffered: we who are guilty do not
suffer. Why this strange state of things in
the government of a holy and just God? It
seems that the divine justice must be satisfied
by the death of the God-man, and that on this
account a merciful economy has been introduced. It is clear that we do not live under a
strictly legal administration, for that knows
nothing of a suspension of punishment; When
superior beings sinned in heaven, they were
instantly cast down to hell. Why, then, should
the human race be permitted to remain upon
earth? In no other way can this be answered
but upon the principle that a redemptive dynasty is now in existence. Indeed, all man



140       THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.
kind have acted upon this supposition; for
they have prayed and worshipped, lived and
died, with thoughts of forgiveness and reformation as among the possibilities of time. It is
true that the whole of punishment is not removed from the present scene of being, inasmuch as that is morally impossible. As man
sins he must suffer; hence we have natural
punishment.  But yet it is manifest that subjective evils are not felt to that extent that
they will be hereafter,-even they are limited.
As to objective punishment, that is but feebly
manifested under the present system of grace.
Nations are under a law of retribution which
completes itself in time, as they cannot exist
in their collective capacity in eternity; individuals as such are punished in the future.
The race, too, viewed as one whole, suffers on
account of the primal fall: " In Adam all die."
The sufferings of Christ do not set aside temporal death.  Enough that they hold it in.beyance for a limited period, that man may
have time for spiritual culture.
2. Faith in a suffering Saviour cancels future
and eternal punishment.  Here is found the
most significant characteristic of the atonement. When a man is justified, heaven is cer



THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.      141
tain. He may have doubts and fears, yet according to the divine method of grace all is
safe hereafter.  Justification by grace is as
firm and sure as justification by law. If possible, it is more firm and more sure, because
he who redeems from the curse of the law has
in store a vast surplus of merit after the salvation of countless millions. It would seem
also that if one is saved from eternal misery,
he is no less saved from eternal sin; yet the
latter thought is seldom mentioned. If redeemed from the one evil, why not from the
other? Man saved has not experienced any
of the future punishment, neither has he experienced any of the future sin; hence his relation to both is the same, and his deliverance
from the one is not more complete and joyful
than his deliverance from the other. In fact,
sin is the evil of evils: redemption from its
power is the greatest of blessings.
3. What is the bearing of the death of the
Son of God on the trial and punishment of the
wicked? As Christ raises all from their graves,
so he is the Judge of all. It is proper that
the present administration should be closed up
by the Mediator, as without him it could have
had no existence. It is generally supposed




142      THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.
that a final judgment is for the purpose of
manifesting the justice of God.  However
true this may be, it does not let us into the
full secret of the matter. There is a reason,
I think, found in the very nature of a moral
government for a public trial and sentence. If
the government of God were natural, and not
positive, there would be no place for a day of
reckoning, inasmuch as sentence and punishment generally move along with the commission of sin. Those persons are consistent who,
disbelieving a positive government, reject a
judgment to come; for the two go together.
If there be a scheme of things additional and
external to that which is found in the natural
working of mind, then, most assuredly there
must be a trial additional and external to that
which is found in the court of conscience.
The apparatus of the divine moral government
would not be complete without this. The
gathering together of the fallen angels is another proof that a day of reckoning is a necessity
of government. Their first sentence was not
enough; they must appear in company with
all the generations of time, and in public trial
before the universe of God be condemned.
Moral government has a grandeur and sublimity




THE GOD-AAN A SUFFERER.     143
connected with it, as well as a fixedness and
security, when thus seen carrying out its demands before the whole kingdom of mind.
With the scenes of the judgment, the present system ends. The wicked go to their own
place.  The death of Christ sends out no
saving influence among the companies of the
lost. Punishment never can change the character of souls. We do not say to the abandoned that if they will not cease sinning, we
shall see to it that they are made saints in perdition. If redemption fails of saving men
here, it is not reasonable to suppose that punishment will save them hereafter. If punishment could be thus effectual, it would have a
preeminence over redemption, making the latter to be superfluous. It is certainly not a
a small mistake to have a system of salvation
inferior to a system of punishment. God must
have made a blunder when he selected the
Christian remedy; for those who are too
wicked to be purified by it are yet purified by
punishment.  Even Judas is after all perfected!
Yea, he who has committed the unpardonable
sin is saved! Why was not hell established
in this world instead of salvation, that all
might be made holy before death? —thus caus



144       THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.
ing less suffering. Indeed, some have really
adopted this view. Man is punished here for
his sins, and all are saved. This is consistent.
But those, who are not willing to go so far as
this, say that it is not by punishment alone
that the soul is to be purified in the future
world,-salvation is used with it. If this is
so, the two are together here; for we have the
same kind of punishment in this world that
will be in the next according to the opinion of
such persons, viz., a guilty conscience, they not
believing in what is called positive punishment.
If salvation and natural punishment, then,
cannot save some hardened sinners here, we do
not see how the same means can save them
hereafter, especially as they have been growing worse and worse during the whole of their
stay upon earth.  To all who are so certain
touching the ultimate restoration of the wicked,
I commend the following passage taken from
the works of Dr. Channing; for it seems that
that great man was not quite sure of the matter, as the closing words plainly show. He
remarks: " One and only one evil can be carried from this world to the next, and that is,
the evil within us, moral evil, guilt, crime, ungoverned passion, the depraved mind, the mem



THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.     145
ory of a wasted or ill-spent life, the character
which has grown up under neglect of God's
voice in the soul and in his word. This, this will.
go with us, to stamp itself on our future frames,
to darken our future being, to separate us like an
impassable gulf from our Creator, and from pure
and happy beings, to be as a consuming fire and
an undying worm."  I have spoken of the pains
and penalties of moral evil, or of wrong doing,
in the world to come. How long they will endure, I know not. Whether they will issue in
the reformation and happiness of the sufferer,
or will terminate in the extinction of his conscious being, is a question on which Scripture
throws no clear light.";  There is not a single
instance on record of a man's repenting in perdition.
At the end of the redemptive kingdom, a
new dynasty begins in eternity. If it is true
that the righteous are to go away into eternal
life, it is equally true that the wicked are to
go away into eternal punishment. If the one
class are to be forever saved, the other class
are to be forever lost. If the bad may reach
heaven, the good may reach hell. The time is
coming in the onward movements of the divine
government when all the wicked of the universe
* Works, vol. iv. p. 166.
7




146     THE GOD-MAN A SUFFERER.
are to be removed to a solitary world by themselves. The evil are to mingle no more with
the good.  As if all the criminals of earth
were confined on some island of the deep, the
great remaining population being perfectly
holy, so in the system of God all transgressors are to be banished into eternal exile,
never more to break in upon the quiet and
harmony of sanctified minds.  One dark
world is to career forever. No Sun is ever
to arise upon its night. Its people few, compared with the infinite numbers of the universe, they are never to increase or decrease
while God endures. -They are imprisoned
for life,-the life of eternity.




uHAPTER        VI.
HUMAN SORROW: THE DIVINE SYMPATHIZER
SECTION    I.
THE VOICE OF SORROW.
No fact is truer than sorrow, for it is a fact
of the heart. The moment one speaks of it,
the soul bears witness of its reality.  The
chapter of every man's life has in it many pages of grief. The biography of a human spirit
has to be written in part with tears. "The
uncertain tenure of our happiness presses upon
an ever-present anxiety, and we vainly strive
to fortify ourselves argainst those multiform
chances that threaten us on every side. No
sooner does a benediction fall upon our fireside
than we begin to think' of its easy departure.
Our sabbaths, hallowed on high, bring a short
interlude of peace between the toils of a setting and a rising sun, and our gladdest songs
are mellowed by a sadness that the spirit knows




148         THE VOICE OF SORROW.
too well must be its abiding portion. Such
themes, indeed, occur in all literature that relates to human experience; but there are various methods of treating them. As mere histories, they abound in novels and tragedies;
but how few ever penetrate their import and
draw from them the essential grandeur of their
instructions! How rare to find their divine
language translated into the words that circulate among mortals! Over the birth of sorrow
who have watched? And who can tell its mysterious agency as it travels abroad with the
everlasting night, and wraps its strange texture
of sackcloth around its myriad subjects? And
who can read the hidden meaning of those
tears that fall around the altars of our solitude,
and exhale to heaven without a witnessing
eye? Alas for the sanctity of sorrow! Men
have paraded it upon the stage to play a part,
to answer an end, to relieve gaiety. Others
have used it as a shallow thing, and dismissed
it as a fugitive trifle. Some have reverenced
it; but the worship was in the outer court, and
the real sanctuary heard not their uprising
strain."
The most profound conception of human sorrow is that it belongs to the higher nature of




THE VOICE OF SORROW.       149
man. Many seem to be unconscious of any
other sorrow than that which is connected with
our sympathetic nature. In the afflictions of
life, especially in the loss of friends, this kind
of sorrow appears. One cord after another is
snapped asunder, and the soul is in trouble.
But the darkest and deepest sorrow is back of
this; it is found in the agony of a sick and
dying spirit. The mere natural sympathies show
that man is human, the supernatural sympathies show that he is divine. The latter being
cut loose from God, the exiled spirit sighs and
laments in its dreary orphanage. It is the sorrow of this higher region that many never
reach. They look only on the outside; they
see the drops falling from the leaves of the
tree shaken by the wind; they think that that
is all. It is the soul-sorrow which all should
comprehend; that which is found in man's imperial nature all in ruins. It is the native sighing
of the crushed spirit, as the stones and rubbish
lie heavily upon it. Not till this more profound
grief of the God-nature of the soul is realized
will sorrow be thoroughly understood. It is when
one wakes up to a clear consciousness of this
deep inward lamentation that he realizes there
must be something radically wrong at the foun



150        TIE VOICE OF SORROW.
tain-head of being. He sees that the little
springs among the hills are poisoned; that a
malady exists at the very root of life. There is
a weeping choir ever hymning forth their sad
song in the deep subterSnean chambers of the
spirit, like a company of funeral angels playing on their harps in the rocky sepulchre at
the still hour of night.
Sorrow is generally associated in our minds
with poverty, disappointment, sickness, death;
but these are rather the occasions than the
causes of it. At the most, these are the cold
currents which, sweeping across, distil the vapors of the sky, and make the showers descend.
The philosophy of sorrow and the philosophy
of sin are intimately connected. As the eagle
pierced with the arrow and brought to the earth
ever seeks to rise again, but cannot, so is it
with man. lie was made to dwell on high;
but being sorely wounded by the archers, he
takes up his abode in the valley of life, in the
midst of solitude and sorrow. It is quite
clear that grief is the native language of the
soul. I have even seen the little infant sigh
when no scar seemed upon its angel spirit; and
in its sleep, though a seraph watched beside it,
it has had its deep breathing of sadness, It




THE VOICE OF SORROW.       151
would seem as if the flower was crushed while
just opening its leaves to the sun. The old
pilgriml leaning upon his staff and the little
child on the bosom of its mother, have each a
tear to let fall, and a heart-pang which opens
the fountains of grief. Doubtless there is a
smile, too, which makes the countenance look
glad, even as the light of a candle a dark room;
yet the gladness is only like the bubbles which
gather on the top of the stream that speedily
burst, and are no more.
It is a very great mistake to suppose that
outward good expels sorrow from the heart.
Perfect circumstances cannot make a man
happy. Health and gold never can bid away
grief from the soul. The sick and the poor
are not the only sufferers. Joy and sorrow are
not confined to classes. Neither the princely
man nor the sage is free from the spirit's woe.
No outward adorning however regnant and
glorious can avail. The king on his throne,
with crowds of worshippers before him, may
look as if sorrow never laid her cold hand on
his heart; yet the monarch sighs in the midst
of the adulations of the multitude; the diadem
begirts a brow wrinkled with care. The most
smiling countenance has back of it a cloud;




152        THE VOICE OF SORROW.
the most sparkling eye tells not all the truth.
"Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful; and
the end of that mirth is heaviness."  I have
seen the gay youth and the man ride their
round of pleasure, yet in the midst of it all
there was a thorn in the soul; for when the
pleasure had ceased, the pain that was there
before was now felt the more keenly.  Sorrow
inhabits the night-land of the soul.  Tears are
its symbol; weeping is its speech; lamentation is its echo. Sorrow is not the mere turmoil which one sees on the surface of the lake,
caused by the force of the passing wind; but
it is the deep under-current, dark and sluggish
in its course.
There is a loneliness that characterizes sorrowful minds, which deserves a moment's notice.
Persons who are pressed down with a burden
of grief shut themselves up in a world of their
own into which no stranger is allowed to enter.
The soul loves to commune and sigh alone, with
never a witnessing eye or ear to take knowledge of the sacred scene. More especially is
this true when the fountain of tears is dried
up. Then the soul sits solitary, and thinks
over its affliction. That sorrow is the deepest
which has few tears. He who weeps much has




THE VOICE OF SORROW.      153
but a surface sorrow. All rude minds are loud
in their lamentation, and quick in their joy.
The refined nature is eve' subdued in its grief,
and silent oftentimes in the midst of its greatest
agony. It is a mistake to think that he who
weeps but seldom is of a hard heart; there are
other channels besides those that are seen.
We know there are some who deem it beneath
them to let fall a tear; but these are not men.
There are others who are ever crying about
trifles, with whom we have no sympathy.
There is a sanctity about sorrow which we
would not have defiled by constant weeping.
A child will often cry for what it cannot have;
but this betokens self-will rather than sorrow.
So many a one when crossed in his ways will
shed tears, which are but drops from the cloud
of wrath. Secret, silent grief is the most natural. Who has not felt when approaching one
deeply affected with sorrow that not a word
could be spoken to him; the very sight of the
person intimated that it is best to say nothing.
Before such a presence there is only a solemn
silence; there is a feeling speaking in the
countenance, but no more. The conduct of the
men who came to comfort Job in his distress is
true to the life: "They sat down with him
7*




154       THE VOICE OF SORPOW.
upon the ground seven days and seven nights,
and none spake a word unto him: for they saw
that his grief was very great." Yes, there is
a groaning of spirit which cannot be uttered.
All feeling when deepest is too spiritual for
words. It is not strange, then, that one should
erect his tent on the borders of the eveningland, and there alone commune with the sighs
of the soul, the weeping prayers of the heart.
But here we are reminded of what may be
called unconscious sorrow. To a heart habituated
to grief, as to one habituated to anything else,
there is oftentimes no consciousness of the sad
condition of the soul. This is most strikingly
seen in children who are really affected with
sadness. Sometimes they are so circumstanced
in life that they naturally grow up in the
midst of sorrow without knowing it. Their
souls bleed many a time on account of the
multiplied evils which beset the poor and the
vicious with whom they are connected by the
ties of nature. There is something peculiarly
affecting in beholding a little child with a pale,
sad countenance. It is unnatural; for we expect to see joy and hope sparkling in the eye
and smiling in the face of the young. A
shadow darkens the soul; and what excites




THE VOICE OF SORROW.      155
our sympathy the most is the strange fact of
apparent unconsciousness. We see one suffering without being aware of it. There are
weights pressing upon the little heart, yet all
seems natural to the child. No other lot has
ever been experienced, and so no change
seems to be longed for.
A very touching case, which occurred in one
of our large cities, we will mention, as it illustrates the thought before us in the most tender manner. There were three children (the
oldest of whom was only eight years of age)
at the station-house along with their mother,
who was dead beside them. The eldest.child,
a girl, was examined by the Coroner in regard
to the circumstances of her mother's death.
Her story is so simple and artless that one is
tenderly impressed by it. Pointing to the
corpse, she said: "That is my mother. The
night before last, two men came into our house,
and turned my father and mother and me and
my two little brothers out. We had no where
to go. We then went to sleep in an entry.
Nobody turned us away all night. In the
morning father went away to look for another
place. He was gone all day. We had nothing
to eat, and were very hungry. Father came




156        THE VOICE OF SORROW.
back at six o'clock, and then went away again.
Nobody would let us into their house, because
they said, if they did, the landlord would turn
them out.  The folks we hired the house of
hired it of somebody else.  So we went into
the yard.  Mother said she was very sick;
she had been sick a long time before, and my
little brothers cried. Mother lay down, and I
put some rags on her to keep her warm, because,
she said, her head ached so bad. WVhen it got
dark, my two little brothers lay down, and I
put some things over them, and I got some
rags to put under them too; and then I sat up
to watch. By and by a policeman came along,
and then he went away and got another one,
and they lifted mother up and put her into a
cart and brought us all here." How exceedingly
touching is a scene like this! How much of
unconscious sorrow was locked up in the soul
of that little girl! Her care for her two
younger brothers, who also were sad and knew
it not, and for her mother, who died a few
hours after she was taken away, shows what
we mean better than we, can describe it. During
the whole continuance of her ministry of love,
she seemed not to know the sorrow that had
given a character and. cast to her whole being,




THE VOICE OF SORROW.        157
There is another peculiar characteristic of sorrow, viz., its affinity for sfsoft soznls. How natural
to speak to one in trouble in a low tone of voice.
We do this almost instinctively.  If having
entered a house, we are speaking loudly, not
knowing that any sorrowful one is present, the
voice is changed the instant the discovery is
made. If we are visiting a sick and dying
man, we find ourselves talking in subdued
accents.  This is not done because noise would
disturb the invalid, for after he is dead, the
same soft manner is continued.  Just enter the
dwelling at the time of the funeral, and you
will find individuals speaking almost in a
whisper.  Music, too, of a plaintive character
is selected, as that falls gently and softly on
the ear.  It seems thus to soothe the heavy
heart.  It is very curious also that the sense
of hearing comes nearer to the heart than the
sense of sight.  The eye is intellectual: the
ear is emotional.'Next to sight," remarks
Sir William Hamilton, "hearing affords us, in
the shortest interval, the greatest variety and
multitude of cognitions; and as sight divides
space almost to infinity, through color, so hearing does the same to time, through sound.
1learing is, however, much less extensive in




158         THE VOICE OF SORROW.
its sphere of knowledge or perception than
sight; but in the same proportion is its capacity of feeling or sensation more intensive.  We
have greater pleasure and greater pain from
single sounds than from single colors; and, in
like manner concords and discords, in the one
sense, affect us more agreeably or disagreeably,
than any modifications of light in the other." l
The human voice has always been the most
powerful to win the heart.  Words read will
make quite a different impression from the
same words heard.  The blind generally have
much feeling.  They are children of the heart,
for their chief sense is the ear. They love
music.  The deaf are less emotional.  They
are apt to be suspicious, which dries up the life
of the feelings. It can thus be seen that there
is a philosophical connection between sound and
sorrow.  The sweet echoes of sympathy falling
on the ear like the words of angels, close up
the wounds of the broken heart, and pour balm
thereon like to that which distills from the
trees of God.
And what is quite peculiar, there is joy connected with sorrow. This may seem a paradox
to some, yet it is certainly a significant truth.
* " Metaphysics," p. 336.




THE VOICE OF SORROW.       159
It is well known that all men love to feel. And
the great majority of men love that kind of
public speaking which makes them feel; yea,
more, they eagerly covet that which makes
them  weep.  What multitudes rush to the
theatre when certain plays are to be performed,
-plays which will excite the tender feelings.
These are spoken of afterwards with the greatest interest; and no ground of praise is thought
more reasonable than this-that the audience
could not keep from shedding tears during the
performance. How eagerly, too, those kind of
books are read which influence the mind in the
same way. Such works are among the most
popular that we have. One will read and
read, though he can scarcely see through his
tears. lie will wipe his eyes, and b agin again
with a most pleasant perseverance. It would
seem as if the Creator had arranged the human
constitution so as to mitigate the e ils of sorrow as far as he possibly could. The dark
cloud is either fringed with gold, oi arched by
a rainbow. The desert has a well; the carcass
of a lion, honey.
Here is a group of children going t, plant
flowers by a mother's grave. -They- rre both
sad and joyful. They reach the plC eo of thf




160        THE VOICE OF SORROW.
dead. They dig gently round the grave of
their mother. They almost think that she is
asleep, and would not wake her. Gladly would
they see her face; gladly would they hear her
words. While planting the different flowers,
they mention how she felt and looked when she
died. The younger children join in the conversation, and ask when their mother will come
back again. The elder reply that she has
gone to heaven, and they will never see her
more; but they must be good, and when they
die they will go and (lwell with her forever.
Now the work of love is finished, and they feel
happy that in a little while the flowers will
bloom sweetly. They will evermore return
again, and sit down beside them and watch
them as they grow. "IHere is the little grave
where sister is buried. Do you remember
when we used to play among the trees on the
summer's day? But she took sick and died;
and mother said she is now an angel, and would
never be sick or die again." They all now return to their home; and while the younger
have a kind of indistinct sadness and a more
distinct joy, the older have a clearer apprehension of sorrow and a quieter kind of happiness;
yet both blending together constitute two of




THE VOICE OF SORROW.       161
the beautiful realities of life. Joy is all the
more attractive in that it rises out of the
tumultuous sea of sorrow.
But we must not forget that sorrow is a
means of discipline. It is one of the great
thoughts of the Eternal Mind, evolved in the
development of humanity, that evil becomes
the occasion of good. Viewing man as he is,
he could never arrive at such a high state of
perfection without sorrow as with it. There
must be a remedy proportioned to the nature
of the disease. That which is pleasant is not
always the best fitted to remove that which is
unpleasant. The cure and the complaint are
in some sense alike.  The very evils that are
the result of sin become to the good man the
means of improvement. He who has not realized this truth practically has never yet
entered into the deep philosophy of suffering.
That man is the wisest who makes everything
the means of moral discipline. To him who
seeks to be transformed into the image of God,
everything works together for his good. We
only speak in this way of sinful man, and not
of those celestial intelligences who have never
wandered from their Maker. It is not to be
supposed that the whole realm of mind is to be




162        THE VOICE OF SORROW.
educated by sorrow and pain. But for man in
process of restoration, the evils that beset him
on every side are perfectly adapted to accomplish the end.  le who battles his way to
glory and honor on high will be a stronger man
forever, than if he had found his way thither
without foe or frown. In this way at least, we
have a practical solution of the mysterious
problem of evil. The higher and more transcendental solution we cannot reach; God alone
understands that as it is. It is pleasant at any
rate to know that the better spirits of time
shall one day stand erect in the purity of manhood, when the afflictions of the present
economy shall be needed no more. While here,
they may not forget that higher conception of
a divine philosophy that man is made perfect
through suffering.  "Those wish not wisely
who desire life to be like one strain of music,
or the sparkle of a summer's wave. Suffering
often calls forth our best feelings and the highest
energies of the mind. It exalts and purifies.
It awakens a true spirit, and naturally leads us
nearer heaven. As the shadow of Peter is
said to have given life to those upon whom it
rested, so often will sorrow give higher life to
the soul." The night of weeping loses itself




THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.     163
in the morning of joy. Life is a great antithesis.
The evil and the good, the human and the
divine, are ever at work.  The perfection of
man will be at the end of storms.
There appears almost to be something divine
about sorrow, though nothing is more human.
The greatest minds bend under its power.
"Whatever is highest and holiest is tinged
with melancholy. The eye of genius has always a plaintive expression, and its natural
language is pathos. A prophet is sadder than
other men; and he who was greater than all
prophets was'a man of sorrows, and acquainted
with grief.' "
SECTION II.
THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.
THE sympathy of Christ was of the purest
texture because of a certain delicacy of soul
and character which he possessed. There was
an extremely fine finish to his whole being and
benevolence. No rough points were found in
his composition. His nature was a complete
circle. He was harmony. The whole movement of his being was just as it should be.




164     THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.
He never went too far, never did too little, on
all occasions he was perfection.
There is what may be called an inviting quality
in the sympathy of the Son of God. It would
have all men to bring their sorrows and troubles
to him, that thus they might find relief and
rest. By this lovely trait Christ shows himself
to be the heart-friend of man. There is no
anguish so deep, no affliction so painful, that
need hinder the soul from coming to him. The
heavier the burden, the greater the need of
help. Every soul knows that it has a trouble
which it can tell into the ear of no mortal
man; there being a consciousness that no mere
earthly creature can measure or meet our grief.
Hence we bear it about with us wherever we
go. To the friend that is nearest to us we
make it not known. The child says nothing
to the parent, neither does the parent say anything to the child. The husband is silent in
the presence of his wife, and the wife is equally
silent in the presence of her husband. But
we have found the one Comforter of men to
whom the soul may be opened. There is no
want or woe but that he can meet, no sigh or
sin but that he can take away. lie bears our
griefs, he carries our sorrows; and the more




THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.    165
completely we cast our troubles upon him, the
more completely does he pour into the soul joy
and peace.
As it respects sympathy, there is much in
the fact that Christ was a man. The soul needs
to be drawn " with the cords of a man, with
bands of love."  Christ may be spoken of as
the man,-the one human being complete in
every sense of that word, leaving no part of
the ideal unrealized. There is one thought
which we must not miss-the thought that he
grezw up into manhood, that he was a fully devteloped man. In this particular he differed
from Adam. Adam had no infancy or childhood; no youth even. He had no past to
which he might look back. IIe was a man
from the start.  Christ had a past; and he
reached manhood by degrees. Yet, though Jesus
passed through the periods of infancy and youth,
we think of him chiefly as the man. Indeed,
the fact that the early part of his life is almost
shrouded from our view is an intimation that
we should look to him mainly in the public
manhood of his existence. If we thus fix the
eye upon Christ as the developed man, he is
seen as the very being who can meet our wants.
The Christ of Palestine is the Christ of the




166     THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.
world. Jesus living among the men of Canaan
and blessing them is a typical representation
of what he is to do for the race till time shall
end. Subtracting the miracles of Christ, what
remains is a prophecy of the unfolding of
redemption.  The Jews were types of all mankind; and the mission of Christ was typical
of the whole redemptive work.    We have
reason, then, to think that if Christ sympathized with men while he was upon earth, he
will now sympathize with them while he is in
heaven. Important meaning is attached in this
way to the life of the Redeemer.  Christ must
die. That is a settled point in God's administration of mercy.  But is it saying too much
that he must also live? If the death of Christ
were all, why did he live so many years?
Why did he not die at the age of twenty or
twelve, instead of at the age of thirty-three?
The point is clear that manhood was to be
reached. Through time and through eternity
he is to be the Man of men.
It is doubtful, however, whether we can
reach the whole of the idea under the statement that Christ wacs a man. The masculine
form of the word we are apt to think about,
yet it is evident that the masculine does not




THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.     167
exhaust the full conception of humanity-the
feminine must be there as well. Can we not
say, then, that in a complete sense Christ was
human?   The womanly mind and the manly
mind may centre in him alike, for he has in
himself the peculiarities of both mental natures. The humanity of Christ is so perfect
that the vigor of the man and the grace of the
woman are blended together in a most finished
manner. But this is not all. Christ has in
himself all the good of all varieties of men
and women. He represents the entire race,
and fits the entire race. Christ may be called
the universal man. He heads up in himself the greatest number of characteristics. It has been said of Shakspeare that
his greatness consisted in this, that "many
men may commune with him who cannot commune with one another." In a far higher and
holier sense is this true of Christ. He was
many sided. All excellencies centered in him.
The most diverse traits found in him a unity.
Christ needed more than one writer to portray
him. And even the four who have sketched
his life would have failed if inspiration had
not assisted. In fact, the life of Christ has
not yet been written. No man shall ever be




168     THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.
able to write it. There is a somnething about the
Redeemer that cannot be seized, that cannot be
described. We cannot balance him as he is
balanced; the order and equilibrium  of his
being wo cannot set forth. As even God is
more glorious than his own universe makes
him appear to be, so Christ is far above any
of the human pictures that are designed to represent him.
But if Christ is human, he is also divtine. The
sympathy of Christ has no special adaptation
to the wants of man unless that sympathy be
divine as well as human. A mere man, however
good or however great, in Palestine or paradise,
is really not what the soul wants. Strictly speaking, it is neither the sympathy of man by himself
nor of God by himself that meets the cry of a
wounded humanity, but it is the sympathy of
the God-man. Whenever I look to the human
side of Jesus and take encouragement from
that, the encouragement really springs up out
of the divine in connection with the human.
The sympathy of Christ is tleanctlro]pical.
But our views of the world's Consoler will
be heightened if we notice a, certain symbolism
that points out his deep humiliation and his exalted nature. As this idea of symbolism in




THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.   169
connection with the life of Christ is somewhat
suggestive, it will repay us to glance at it in
its twofold aspect.
First, then, let us note down those symbolic
circumstances that point to the humiliation of
the Son of God. At the very commencement,
we think of the lowly circumstances that connected themselves with the advent of Christ.
His mother was neither rich nor learned. The
holy child is born in a stable, is cradled in a
manger. We are startled that one so great
should appear in the midst of surroundings that
matched not with the greatness. Who would
suppose that darkness and debasement would
mark and line the place where the Anointed
One should first open his eyes among men?
If we had been called upon to draw out the
first scenes in the life of Jesus, with only our
reason to guide us, the veritable realities of the
case would never have trooped past our vision.
Yea, we should have thought that such a lofty
visitor would have made his home among the
great, with everything to make pleasant the
hours of helpless infancy. The first feeling,
then, is that of surprise. The outward scenery
does not seem to correspond with the greatness
and royalty of the divine child. And yet, the




170     TIE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.
moment the full meaning of the incarnation
dawns upon the mind, there is seen to be a
wonderful adaptation in the earthly surroundings of Jesus. The Son of God had descended
to the very bottom of the race, and everything
must be called in to bear witness to this fact.
Mark now the hasty departure into Egypt.
The holy family flee away by night. What a
picture; and how that picture is shaded!
Years pass away. The divine man is working
at the trade of a carpenter. To say the least,
this is wonderful. If such a scene images
forth humiliation, it no less images forth greatness.  Labor is dignified forever.  Behold
Christ now in the wilderness.  Ite is surrounded by wild beasts and malignant angels.
All outward good is taken away. The gloom
of forty days, the deeper gloom of forty nights,
darken his solitude. Again, during the public
life of Christ, we are told that "he had not
where to lay his head." The Possessor of all
things has nothing! Still further, a painful
moment in the life of Jesus is revealed,-a
moment that seems like the anticipation of
Gethsemane. " Now is my soul troubled; and
what shall I say? Father, save me from this
hour: but for this cause came I unto this




THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.    171
hour."  A door is opened into the mysterious
chamber of Christly emotion. We are told to
look in. We do so with awe and amazement;
and at once the door is shut. There is Christ
in the garden. "Hle sweats as it were great
drops of blood falling down to the ground."
The whole scene is more fit for silent meditation than for direct portrayal.  Then, agtin,
Christ is on trial.  The Creator stands before
the creature, the Sinless before the sinful. The
Holy One is pronounced guilty. The Judge
of all is condemned.   The Life must die.
There is the crown of thorns and the cross;
the darkness at noon and the fearful cry,.c My
God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"
The symbolism of death and darkness ends
with the shaking of the earth and the rending
asunder of the rocks.
Secondly, we may now consider that symbolism which points to the divine in Christ.
There were flashes of supernatural light that
shot athwart the sky of the Son of God and Son
of man.  The day broke in upon the night.
Heaven touched the earth. It could be seen
that the tabernacle of God was with man.
Even at the birth of Christ a star appeared,
betokening the advent of some great personage.




172      THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.
Then there was a glory of the Lord that shone
round the astonished shepherds at night, an angel
that announced good tidings of joy, a multitude
of heavenly beings " praising God, and saying,
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth
peace, good will toward men."  We can perceive also hints of the divine when Christ was
in the temple in the midst of the doctors.
The temple was the culmination and crown of
Judaism; and it stood forth as the mystic
symbol of a divine redemption. It was not
strange, therefore, that the youthful Jesus
should linger in such a place; and that, possessed with the one thought of his life, he
should say to his astonished parents, "Wist ye
not that I must be about my Father's business?"
Then at his baptism we are arrested by a
supernatural scene. The heavens open, the
Spirit of God descends, and a voice says,
" This is my beloved Son in whom I am well
pleased." Saying nothing here of the miracles
of Christ, we meet with such expressions as
these: "The people were astonished at his
doctrine."  "The multitudes marvelled, and
glorified God."  c Never man spake like this
man."'" Is not this the Christ?" "' Truly this
man was the Son of God."    Was there not




THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.    173
also a sense of something superhuman when he
drove the money-changers out of the temple?
as if the men were awed by a great presence,
so that they hastened away. But perhaps the
most striking symbolism is that connected with
the transfiguration scene.  The face of the
Redeemer   shone as the sun, and his raiment
was white as the light."  Two saved men appeared from the heavenly world. The voice
of God pealed forth from the excellent glory,
saying, " This is my beloved Son, in whom I
am well pleased."  Everything here was so
wonderful that the disciples "' fell on their face,
and were sore afraid."  Again, we have an incident mentioned by one of the gospel writers
that may have a relation to the point before us.
Judas, with a band of armed men had come to
arrest the Saviour. They no sooner, however,
appear in his presence, and he makes known
to them that he is the person they are in search
of, than they step backward, and fall to the
ground. A thought of something great, whatever it was, seems to have intimidated them
for a moment; so that they lost their balance,
staggered, and fell. Even the dream of Pilate's
wife has about it a dim inkling of the supernatural. The words,' Have thou nothing to




174      THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.
do with that just man," sound like the spentutterance of a divine voice that had pressed
through from eternity into time. The title on
the cross is itself suggestive.-" Tins Is JESUS
THE KING OF TIIE JEWS."  It is not strange
that the chief priests were dissatisfied with it.
As a closing picture, we have the following:
The graves were opened; many bodies of the
saints arose; they entered into the holy city.
An event so mighty as a finished atonement
thrilled the heavenly kingdoms of life and
startled the empire of death, so that eager beings hurried through the gates of glory and the
grave, and stood forth among living men as
witnesses of a Redeemer's power and a resurrection yet to be.
Such is the twofold symbolism that wraps
itself like clouds of glory and of gloom about
the Saviour's life. A Being thus circumstanced
is preeminently the great Sympathizer. To see
the Saviour in this double manner throws new
meaning upon his life, and brings him nearer
to the soul.
A thought now in regard to the temptation
of Christ, as that relates to the theme in hand.
There are those who cannot see how Christ
could be tempted, inasmuch as he was perfectly




THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.     175
holy.  No doubt a depraved nature is that
which gives nerve and point to much of the
temptation of life; but it by no means explains
the whole matter. That Christ was a man was
sufficient to constitute a ground of temptation.
Thougnh he was a sinless man, he yet had nat-'ural alppeites: temptation could appeal to them.
lie had the love of honor, of course in its purityr: temptation could appeal to that. There
was in his soul a love of power, equally in its
purity: temptation could appeal to that also.
Then he had a nature that was capable of suffering: temptation could certainly work there
with great power. Now, if the wildernesstemptation of Christ be examined, it will be
seen that there was an attempt to twist appetite, honor, and power from their normal position; while the nature that shrunk from suffering was assailed all the way through life;
chiefly, however, during that great crisis when
the Redeemer cried out, " If it be possible, let
this cup pass from me: nevertheless, not as I
will, but as thou wilt." Let the temptations
of man now be systematized, and it will be discovered that they can be reduced to a few
generic heads. How much of sin by yielding
to the appetites. A world of iniquity has been




176      THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.
committed here sufficient to sink the world.
As to honor, that has taken captive the whole
race. The love of power has filled the earth
with contention. Then to avoid suffering, how
wickedness has been followed and principle
sacrificed. This being the case, the tempted
Saviour fits the tempted sinner. " We have
not a high priest which cannot be touched with
the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all
points tempted like as we are, yet without sin."
We may now glance at the solitude of Jesus.
A certain writer has remarked that there is
always a degree of solitude about great minds.
There is truth in this thought. They live in a
sphere of being by themselves, and their course
of thinking no one fully comprehends; their
manner of life, transcending that of common
men, being out of the plane of the world's
doings and duties, is not known. Such persons
tarry with us, yet we understand them not;
we see them, yet we see them not. Like lofty
strangers they come and disappear; like visitors from some higher world they pass through
among us, and then vanish away; the full
vision of their being and greatness never falling
upon any soul of man; so that few rejoice
when they come, and fewer sorrow when they




THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.    177
depart. Their personality is to us like a dream
of night, which, when the day appears, is but
dimly remembered. Especially was solitude
of existence a characteristic of Jesus. "His
soul was like a star and dwelt apart."  He had
a mission and a plan which not one of the
human family could understand. There was
not a single individual to whom he could reveal
the contents of his wonderful mind with the
hope of finding an intelligent approval. Although he lived upon the earth, he seemed not
to be one of its people. IIe was as a solitary
stranger from some remote and unknown territory of Jehovah's empire. The nature of his
being and the nature of his work were alike
unique, and so he acted in solitude, the lofty
representative of some superior world.  It
made no difference that thousands followed in
his train; for whether he dwelt in "the void
waste or the city full" he was yet alone. Yea,
the oppressive loneliness of his being was only
increased by the presence of men; men who
were dull, unsympathizing, and frequently
sceptical touching the embassy which brought
him from heaven to earth.. The divine man
commenced and finished the mightiest work of
the universe alone.  He was aided by no




178      THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.
human arm. Not even a single, whole-hearted
encouragement cheered him along his path.
He suffered and died for a world of sinners in
profound solitude. A being thus situated, and
thus acting, has a soul to pity where no pity
is wanted, and a compassion to exercise towards the most abandoned of men that awakens
no thankfulness or praise. Sympathy reaches
a height of grandeur, when forgotten and unappreciated it toils and travails for the eternal
good of a world.
Again, Christ was " a man of sorrows."  To
those natures who have in them an element of
sadness, there is something in the idea of a
sorrowful Saviour that is attractive. I scarcely
know anything that throws such a soft sacredness about the person of our Lord as the fact
that sorrow found an abiding home in his spirit.
That the Sinless One should be sorrowful is
really surprising. The mind is startled by it.
Afterwards it is stilled. A kind of sad composure comes over the soul while thinking of
the fact of sorrow in the Son of God. Ideally
we might think of Christ in a thousand ways
and connect with his being a thousand glories,
yet the beauty of sorrow with its pain we
should imagine to be no trait of his. Cer



THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.    179
tainly, the more he is studied, he appears as
the redemptive man; having a life that was
sacrificial; being the sorrowful Sufferer of humanity. I-e lived and wept, not for himself,
but for man. Though holy, his sorrow was
deeper and more pungent than that which agitated the breast of any sinner. He was " baptized in the cloud and in the sea." His pilgrimage was but one Via Dolorosa. To say that
Christ had a sympathetic nature will not explain the totality of his grief. There was a
sorrow that lay deeper than that caused by
natural sympathy. Christ was supernatural,
and his sorrow was redemptive. Although the
divine nature of the Redeemer could not sorrow, yet the human nature was able to sustain
a mightier.load of grief by reason of its connection with the divine. Rightly understood,
the sorrow of Christ was superhuman, though
not divine. It was superhuman in the sense
that no mere human being could have endured
it. Salvation has its life in sorrow, and Christianity is the religion of sorrow.
As a closing thought, we may fix the eye
on the serenity of Christ. Some might suppose that sorrow and serenity do not go
together, inasmuch as gloom is apt to be con



180      THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.
nected with sorrow. Gloom may to a certain
extent connect itself with it among men, but
with Christ there was nothing of the kind.
Even among the purer and better natures of
earth who have sorrow, there is nothing dark
and forbidding. It is really a question whether
any human countenance is perfect in its expression without a certain tinge of sadness.
There is a place, then, for both sorrow and
serenity in Christ. In his nature there was no
element of discontent. There was no shadow
at variance between the human and the divine
will. The principle of unity was complete.
Christ's spiritual consciousness was perfectly
clear.  Serenitude, therefore, had no cloud.
With a weight of obligation such as the world
cannot conceive and a sense of obligation such
as the world cannot feel, he was yet unruffled
in his mind. That the burden he carried was
great and the suffering he endured was keen, is
evident at a glance. He was pressed to the
dust by reason of the weight of a world's
atonement.  The surging billows of divine
wrath beat against him as the one who stood in
the room of the guilty.  Still, there was no
impatience manifested.  Intense pain, though
it caused his human nature to cry out, scattered




THE GOD-MAN A SYMPATHIZER.     181
not away the heavenly serenity of his soul.
Calm and divine-like he came out of the storm.
There was a sweetness of mind and manner, a
heavenly radiance, a divine repose. Though
he was the great warrior of men, the marks of
battle were not found upon his spirit. The
sympathy of such a Redeemer is complete.








a acnsu!  uo. S aq  o JM I o
*II jASYcC








CHAPTER        I.
VESTIGES OF THE DIVINE IN MAN NOT SUFFI
CIENT TO DEVELOP HOLINESS APART FROM
THE SUPERNATURAL.
THERE is much said and written about the
godlike elements that still exist in human
nature. We no sooner begin to speak of the
depth and universality of sin than we are
arrested by the statement, " that man is good
as well as bad." The least whisper touching
the need of the supernatural is hushed at once
by the certain announcement, that such language is mere superstition; dishonorable both
to God and man as it tends to develop a vain
dependence, instead of that hopefulness of
souls which is inspired by the divine that is in
them. With much fine writing on the dignity
and ultimate blessedness of all mankind, we have
not yet seen the record of those varied rudiments of life and love which are to grow and




186         THE DIVINE IN MAN,
spread till sin is dead. The most serious
writer of this school is Dr. Channing; the most
daring is Theodore Parker.  The truie divine
undertones of the soul which these men point
out, we admit; their inferences fiom them, we,
in most cases, deny. It is proposed in the
present chapter to gather together the most
important fragments of the divine which the
soul contains, that we may thus see whether
they are sufficient or not to form the independent basis of a perfect character.
1. We may notice the craving of the soul
for rest. It is doubtful whether any man ever
sinks so low in moral degradation as to be
wholly unconscious of the yearning of his
spirit for repose. We think there is a cry
ascending from every heart for peace that knows
no turmoil, and for rest that knows no strife or
tumult of men. This feeling arises in the soul
because unhappiness is there; and it would
seem to show that there is a higher and better
nature which is crushed and in bondage; for
why should there be a longing and panting after
an unknown joy, unless it be that the immortal spirit is discontented with its present state
and circumstances? It is the divine in man
that longs for a good which it has not, and is




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 187
dissatisfied with an evil which it has. That
strange feeling of restlessness which agitates
the bosom of mortals, which makes many a
heart to bleed unseen and causes many a sigh
to ascend unheard, is doubtless the fluttering
of a greater spirit than that which spends its
hours in the enjoyment of sense, and its days
in the eager pursuit of pleasure and sin.
2. There is in the soul also a desire for unmixed truth. It is necessary for man to have
an appetency of this kind, in order to connect
the soul with the vast region of truth which is
all around it. Pure knowledge is increased by
this means, for pure truth is the object of
search and solicitude.  Neither science nor
scientific investigation could exist if men had
not the desire for simple truth.  One could not
put confidence in another without a primary
conviction in the mind that truth would be
uttered. A child, at first, will believe every
statement of a father or mother. Even if a
stranger comes into the house, and in a thoughtless manner promises a gift to each child the
next time he comes, all will believe his words,
and will be greatly disappointed if, when he
appears again, the promised favor is not forthcoming.




188         THE DIVINE IN MAN,
3. There is a law of order existing in all
minds. The soul cannot be satisfied with disharmony. Even noise troubles some persons
exceedingly; but music is pleasing. An illregulated family is a source of uneasiness to a
spectator.  Even a child will instinctively
arrange its playthings on the floor in a certain
line, and will place those together that are alike.
This law of order is seen in its divine aspect
when the soul is made to feel happy in view
of its good, and miserable in view of its evil.
An archetype of order exists in the mind so
complete in itself that nothing created comes
fully up to its demands; it finds no realization
save in the Uncreated and the Perfect.
4. Greatness calls forth the admiration of
even the lowest of men. Physical might and
power, at first, attract the attention; afterwards,
greatness and sweep of intellect. Brilliant
pictures of the imagination and grand thoughts
of the understanding generate enthusiasm and
wonder in the minds both of the ignorant and
the wise. Admiration is also awakened by the
sight of noble and heroic deeds. Let one but
endure the utmost self-denial and suffer the
most excruciating pain in order to benefit the
needy, and instantly the vilest are compelled




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 189
to praise such self-abnegation. Hence a monument must be erected to commemorate the
deeds of Howard; eulogies on the life of Socrates must be written and sung. Yea, more,
where can you find a sceptic who does not
admire the perfect character of Jesus? Prejudice and passion may distort the mind, but
they cannot destroy the divine nature within.
5. The soul has a conception of the beautiful. This is a ray shining out from the better
sphere of being. While beauty is seen in nature and art, yet it is chiefly spiritual beauty
that we are here concerned with. This higher
conception is like one of the lamps of heaven,
burning amidst the darkness of perdition.
Says Mr. Parker: " To the mind God will be
the Beauty of Truth; to the conscience the
Beauty of Justice, to the affection the Beauty
of Love, to the soul the Beauty of Holiness,
and to the whole consciousness of man he will
appear as the total Infinite Beauty; the perfect
and absolute object of every hungering faculty
of man." 
6. The human spirit has aspirations which
run out to the eternal and the infinite. It is
true that like children men oftentimes play
* "Theism, Atheism, and the Popular Theology," p. 187.




190         THE DIVINE IN MAN,
along the shore, heedless of that vast ocean on
whose bosom they must sail forever. Yet it is
certain that there are desires which the present
cannot satisfy; and the good that is not found
to-day is supposed to have an abiding dwellingplace in some to-morrow. The ever-hungering
and ever-traveling aspirations of man show
that he was made for a lofty sphere; for although the earth may flow with plenty and time
may extend its benefactions to the last moment,
yet is there even then a want felt, plainly revealing the fact that the supersensible and the
infinite alone can satisfy.  I affirm, and trust
that I do not speak too strongly, that there are
traces of infinity in the human mind; and that,
in this very respect, it bears a likeness to God.
The very conception of infinity is the mark of
a nature to which no limit can be prescribed.
This thought, indeed, comes to us, not so much'from  abroad, as from  our own souls.  We
ascribe this attribute to God, because we possess capacities and wants, which only an unbounded being can fill, and because we are conscious of a tendency in spiritual faculties to
unlimited expansion."*
7. Man also has the idea of religion. The
* Dr. Channing, Works, vol. iii, p. 237.




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 191
fact that religion of some kind is found among
all nations and races, shows that the idea is
natural. We must think that man was made
to be religious. He has an idea of a supernatural Being, and it is his own fault if he
does not reverence and worship that Being.
A whole world with no belief in God and no
form of religion would be one of the most
astonishing sights in the universe. Worship
of some kind will never cease to be offered.
8. Each soul has the intuitions of right and
justice. Actions are viewed as good or bad,
as praiseworthy or blameworthy. In all the
relations of life man must be just; and
the righteous must be rewarded, the wicked
punished. But notice chiefly a very interesting manifestation of these principles. Let one,
for instance, see nothing but selfishness and
dishonesty around him, will he be wholly
pleased and contented with these characteristics? He will not. He will in his heart wish
to be among a better class of people. " Men
do weary of the wickedness of the world as
really, though not indeed so frequently, as of
its disappointments. This is not the place for
labored discussion; and I will simply refer you
to one powerful instance of this anxiety for a




192         THE DIVINE IN MAN,
better and holier condition. I allude to cases of
private and personal injury.  Reflect upon your
emotions in such instances. There is surely
something more than mere resentment; there
is a strong sense of injustice, and naturally
with it (as the mind calms and diffuses its
feelings) a melancholy impression of the lost
moral balance of the whole world, and a correspondent yearning for abodes where righteousness shall be a principle of universal action." *
9. It is worthy of careful consideration also
that the soul calls for the manifestation of personal benevolence. No man can be satisfied
with himself unless some efforts are made in
the line of duty and love. Hence, in one way
and another, men are trying their hand at good
works. It is really astonishing to see how
universal is this habit among mankind.  To do
evil is certainly not deemed the chief end of
man. The most wicked profess to be good, at
times. Even the thief feels that he is benevolent, if he gives a part of his plunder to the
poor; and the avaricious man claims the same
characteristic, if once in a while he assists the
needy. There is no end to good men. Absolute selfishness so terrifies the race that each
* Prof. Butler, Sermons, vol. ii. p. 152.




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 193
one has his coat of charity. It would be a
relief to see a bad man. In the intense eagerness of persons to be righteous, they have made
the evil good.
10. In all men there are attempts at selfreformation.  This is a most striking fact. It
shows that personal depravity does not satisfy
the better nature of the soul. Doubtless, in
some cases, man tries to live a purer life, merely
to gain the approval of those around him. But
this is not the constant motive. There is in
the breast a sense of spirit-worthiness which
excites to self-purification. However fair one
may appear to others, this is not enough; for
there may be with it a secret abhorrence of
self, as if a divinity were dwelling within the
soul and watching all its motives and moral
states, casting a frown upon the invisible evil
that may be found there. All know that there
are moments when man does despise himself;
and surely it is not strange that, at such times,
he should hasten to begin the work of moral
improvement. Besides, he may have a vision of
God and eternity so clear and strong that his
whole nature is aroused; and he looks around
with eager eyes that he may watch against the
evil, and that he may attend to the good.
9




194         THE DIVINE IN MAN,
11. The feeling of remorse evinces the existence of a divine element in the soul. I cannot see why the spirit should condemn and torment itself for wrong-doing, if there be not a
voice within which utters its command against
evil, and which speaks in favor of the good.
Remorse would be impossible, if the soul did
not affirm the necessity of goodness.  Hence,
let a man sink ever so deep in moral degradation, and yet be conscious of guilt, this is proof
that the divine principle still lives.  " The evil
conscience is the divine bond which binds the
created spirit, even in deep apostacy, to its
Original. In the consciousness of guilt there
is revealed the essential relation of our spirit
to God. The trouble and anguish which the
remonstrances of this consciousness excite,
the inward unrest which sometimes seizes the
slave of sin, are proofs that he has not got
quite broken away from God." *
12. We even see phantoms of goodness
associated with certain sins.  It might appear
as if we were pressing the matter to an extreme when we thus attempt to find gold in the
midst of mire.  Our intention in this last effort
is to give man all that belongs to him. Ob* Muller, " Doctrine of Sin," vol, i. p. 225.




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 195
serve, then, the vast variety of acts wrong in
themselves, yet performed with the utmost sincerity. M5urder is even committed with the
approval of conscience. The idea of right is
here, although there is nothing but wrong.
Idolatry itself suggests a good which it has not,
even as a tombstone reflects the light that
comes from afar. Worshipping a multitude of
gods, instead of the one Divinity, shows that
however much the religious instinct may be
darkened, it yet cannot be destroyed. As the
deluded creature bows before his idol, the fact
is announced that here is a being who ought to
worship the Supreme.  In selfishness men are
anxious not to appear selfish. This plainly shows
that disinterestedness is thought to be a good
thing. How the wicked also desire to have a
good name. This striking fact can have no meaning, unless it is admitted that virtue is deemed
superior to vice. Thus, in the midst of the ruins
of the soul, we behold apparitions of good.
It is not needful that I specify further.  The
most important thoughts have been mentioned; and whatever has been omitted may
find a place under some of the previous heads.
Are these divine characteristics, then_ sufficient
to develop a holy life?  What arrests the at



196          THE DIVINE IN MAN,
tention is the fact, that men of the most
finished depravity have these vestiges of the
divine. Why so much of wickedness, if good
seed is planted in the soul?  Can men sink to
the lowest depths of sin, while there is a moral
efficiency in the heart that can save them? It
is clear that there must be a power in human
nature that exceeds in might the native potency
of that which is divine. I can see nothing in
the symptoms of a better nature within but so
many proofs of moral weakness. It is not
difficult to conceive that souls may increase in
sin through myriads of ages, and yet have visions of a better state floating before them, and
cries for the true and the good sounding forth
from a nature that no more can die than the
mind of which it forms a part. I may as well
reason out the future possibility of holiness
from the existence of a soul, as from the
natural principles that constitute but a portion
of it.  On examination it will be seen that
each relic of the divine has an intuitional or
instinctive basis; and consequently, we can no
more infer from such the prospective attainment
of moral perfection, than we can from the mere
existence of a human will or a human con.
science. The mind has natural powers and




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 197
principles without which moral action is not
even possible; but this is an entirely different
thing from right moral action itself. That I shall
ever use these powers and principles to work
out an eternal righteousness is what, no one can
know. My disposition and choice may make
it certain that I will not use them for holiness
and God.
Yea, I am startled by a very clear law of
moral deterioration existent in the race; so
that, instead of ascending, they evermore have
a tendency to descend. Admitting a development in science, art, civilization, and many
other things, our wonder is that in holiness
the race do not improve.   True, among the
Christian nations, there is spiritual advancement; but that we attribute to the inflow
of the supernatural. Among men in general
there is spiritual indifference; and communion
with God is not known.    Development-men
exalt the present and depress the past; yet no
credit is given to Christianity as a divine system.   "The real starting point," remarks
Comte, is in fact much humbler than is commonly supposed, man having everywhere begun
by being a fetich worshipper and a cannibal." *
* Positive Phil. p. 545.




198         THE DIVINE IN MAN,
I should like to know how this information has
been received. History does not convey it to
us.' The statement is baseless. Proof is demanded. If I pretend to give an account of
the planting and training of the race, I must
be regulated by fact, and not by fancy. The
earliest authentic record that we have, shows
that maln began his existence pure and holy;
that he had knowledge of but one God, the
Creator and Sovereign; that the golden age
was at the beginning, which he lost by sin;
that then the Divine Being was worshipped
by sacrifices, each man being a priest; that
afterwards the race deteriorated to such an
extent that they were swept away by the
retributive justice of the Almighty.  This
whole view harmonizes with geologic history.
Hugh Miller says:' We know,-so far at least
as we have yet succeeded in deciphering the
record,-that the several dynasties were introduced, not in their lower, but in their higher
forms; that, in short, in the imposing programme of creation it was arranged, as a
general rule, that in each of the great divisions
of the procession the magnates should walk
first." And as if to shadow forth most truly
the condition of man, C we recognize yet further




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 199
the fact of degradation specially exemplified in
the fish and the reptile." i
But decay and moral ruin are seen in -the
most striking manner as we look at the refined
nations of antiquity.  We should naturally
think that with the highest civilization, there
would  be the highest type of moral life.
And this the more as men are understood to be
born with original righteousness. It is manifestly a dark sign when neither subjective goodness on the one hand, nor objective advantages
on the other, can lift llnan up to a state of
perfect rectitude; but wvith both  he must
plunge into the deepest moral degradation.
Notice'what the historian says touching the
manners of Greece and Rome: " The lives of
men of every class, from the highest to the
lowest, were consumed in the practice of the
most abominable and flagitious vices: even
crimes, the horrible turpitude of which was
such that it would be defiling the ear of decency
but to name them, were openly perpetrated
with the greatest impunity. If evidence be
required of this, the reader may at once satisfy
himself of the truth of what is here said by
referring to Lucian amongst the Greek authors,
* "Foot-prints of the Creator," p. 325.




200         THE DIVINE IN MAN,
and to the Roman poets Juvenal and Persius. In
the writings of the former in particular, he will
find the most detestable unnatural affections,
Itreated of at large, and with the utmost familiarity, as things of ordinary and daily occurrence. Should any one conceive that these or
other writers might give the rein too freely to
their imagination, and suffer themselves to be
carried into extremes by their genius for satire
and sharp rebuke, let him turn his attention to
those cruel and inhuman exhibitions which are
well known to have yielded the highest gratification to the inhabitants of Greece and Italy,
(people, who in point of refinement, possessed
a superiority over all other nations of the
world,) the savage conflicts of the gladiators in
the circus: let him cast his eye on that dissoluteness of manners by which the walks of
private life were polluted; the horrible prostitution of boys, to which the laws opposed no
restraint, the shameful practice of exposing
infants and procuring abortions; the little
regard that was shown to the lives of slaves;
the multiplicity of stews and brothels, many
of which were consecrated even to the gods
themselves.  Let him reflect on these, and
various other criminal excesses, to the most




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 201
ample indulgence in which the government
offered not the least impediment, and then say,
if such were the people distinguished beyond
all others by the excellence of their laws and
the superiority of their attainments in literature
and the arts, what must have been the state
of those nations who possessed none of these
advantages, but were governed entirely by the
impulses and dictates of rude and uncultivated
nature." *  When one thus sees the most noted
of ancient nations sinking by the collective
weight of their iniquity till finally they disappear from the page of history, it is all in vain
to speak of the restorative energy of latent
goodness.  A theory of human nature that
runs counter, not to a few facts, but to many,
cannot be true.
And what are we to think of the existence
of savages, with the same theory before us?
If the good inl man is so powerful, why have
whole races sunk even lower than the brute?
Why all this, too, although a period of six
thousand years has been allowed for human
development? This is strange progress! The
development is in ignorance and sin; it is
downward, and not upward. A very curious
* Mosieim, " Historical Commentaries," yol, i. p. 26.




202         TIE DIVINE IN MAN,
fact is noted by Professor Guyot and others
that the further we depart from tie cradle of
the race in Asia, the race deteriorates physically.
Hence the inhabitants at the extreme point of
South America are vastly lower than those
further north. So the Bushmen of Southern
Africa are even inferior to the Hottentots.
And when we reach the dwellers of South
Australia, we behold the lowest of the human
species. Body and mind go down together.
We cannot see much force, then, in speaking
of divine barbarians, of saintly cannibals.
And what is worse, these brutalized people can
never lift themselves out of their condition.
History has never witnessed the phenomenon
of a community of savages changing themselves into civilized, enlightened, upright men.
"The human mind," in the language of Isaac
Taylor, C contains no law  of development
taking effect as a constant physical law. Development of the faculties, intellectual and
social, is, in every individual man, and in
nations and races, contingent upon the presence
and application of some exciting cause from
without."  "The expansion of the human mind
does not take place uniformly and universally
for this very reason: that a causative power




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 203
having been conferred upon man-and upon
him  alone, in the fullest sense, among the
animal orders-no other provision has been
made in his constitution for securing the development of his faculties. This inherent force is
amply sufficient for this purpose, if only it be
put in movement from withoiit."  The fate of
the individual man truly symbolizes the history
or the fate of nations and races. A tribe-a
race, marked as the same from age to age by
its physical characteristics, occupies or roams
about upon its unfurrowed allotment until the
day of awakening from without dawns upon
it; or, if no such day dawns, the race becomes
extinct, or it gives room to another that has
received the quickening visitation from a higher
source." 
The supernatural, then, would seem to be
absolutely necessary.  Fully admitting that
man has relics of the divine within him, yet
these are powerless.  To look up is now the
part of wisdom. From above, a power and a
life must come down. Indeed, to be truthful,
we ought to mention the demand for the supernatural as one of the divine vestiges of the
soul. This demand often shows itself in a very
* " World of Mind," p. 371.




204         THE DIVINE IN MAN,
peculiar manner,-in a sigh of the soul while
thinking of the vanity of life, in a feeling of
dissatisfaction with mere legalism  however
exact it may be, in a sense of want that often
arises after man has done his best, and in a
sinking heart-sickness produced by the blasting
of human hopes and the utter wickedness of
human souls. Men sometimes do not know
what is wrong with the religious system which
they adopt or with the religious life which they
practice; only this is certain-they feel uneasy
-they want something they know not what.
The truth is, mere naturalism cannot satisfy.
The race have ever wanted a divine religion.
Even wicked men find a degree of satisfaction
in supernatural verities. Though practically
they may care nothing about them, yet their
higher nature is pleased.  The Bible will ever
be new and. ever fresh, because the eternal and
the divine run through it. The Christian religion will never vanish away, because its
supernatural redemption and profound mysteries
appeal to the very soul of the race. The sabbath with its preaching about God, man, and
the Mediator, will be perpetuated till it loses
itself in the eternal rest of heaven. A mere
day without work, with its philosophical lee



YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 205
tures, will never fully satisfy the sin-crushed
soul. Even simple ethical preaching will become insipid. The cry will be for a Power
that can meet human weakness, and a Saviour
that can cancel human sin. The thought of a
great Presence touching souls; the solemnity
that spreads over the mind when the Almighty
is passing by; the stillness that reigns around
when it is felt that the eternal God is at work
in human hearts,-these peculiarities awe and
satisfy the spirit of man.




CHAPTER II.
NATURAL BENEVOLENCE NOT SUFFICIENT TO
CONSTITUTE HOLINESS APART FROM THE SUPERNATURAL.
OBJECTION has arisen to the doctrine of total
depravity because it seems to set aside certain
benevolent features of human nature.  We
propose, therefore, to mention those traits of
the human being which are really lovely in
themselves, that we may thus behold the truth,
and know what value to attach to it. We
would give each man all that belongs to him.
If there be sunshine as well as shade, let us
rejoice.
1. We may notice the familny cafections.
There is something very beautiful in beholding
a mother watching over a little infant during
the years of its helplessness.  To see the care
taken, the self-denial endured, and that without murmuring, is certainly a pleasant sight.




NATURAL BENEVOLENCE.       207
The love is warm, strong, and abiding. The
very suffering incidentally connected with the
relation of mother and child seems to fan the
affection into a more burning intensity. Through
long, weary nights she watches beside the little
one in its sickness. Perhaps the health of the
parent is giving way through excessive vigils;
yet this does not abate the love in the least,it is stronger than death. On the part of the
children, the love is not so ardent nor so strong;
yet, as far as it goes, it is sweet to look upon.
The lamp of affection goes not out. If there
is to be a difference in degree between the
parental and the filial love, it seems the. part
of wisdom that the parental should be the
stronger.  There is more need for it on the one
side than on the other. Children have not to
toil and to suffer for parents, as parents for
children.
2. Sympathy for others in distress is another
beautiful feature of humanity. A man has
just fallen from a building: how eagerly all
hasten to assist him! A railroad collision has
just taken place; many are wounded and
killed: how deep the sympathy of the spectators! A child has fallen into the river from
a steamboat; instantly it is saved by one at




208        NATURAL BENEVOLENCE.
the risk of his life: how profound the interest
of all on board! Here is a family perishing;
they have neither food, fuel, nor clothing:
those beholding them weep. In sickness and
death, how tender and sacred is the sympathy
manifested!  To see a group of mourners
around a grave weeping, is a hallowed sight in
a world of sin and death. A   man without
sympathy is deemed a monster: a woman without pity is considered a demon.
3. Amiability of disposition is a lovely
characteristic of human nature.  There are
only a few persons who are gifted with this
beautiful trait.  It is not so general as sympathy. Here and there we see one smiling
upon us like a flower in the forest. The soft
gentle words, and the kind modest look speak
eloquently to the heart. There is nothing
harsh or repelling in the manner,-all is inviting. In little children this trait is seen. Men
seldom possess it. Women have it the most.
It seems more in harmony with the female
character than the male. Yet no man is complete without it.
4. A nice sense of honor is commendable also
wherever found.   There is much fictitious
honor among men.   Still, we must admit that




NATURAL BENEVOLENCE.        209
there is true honor.  Some persons possess a
certain native nobleness which makes a fine
impression on the mind.    Such individuals
practice none of those little, mean acts which
so disfigure the characters of many.  They
dispute not about trifles; they count not a man
an enemy for a word; they trample not on the
rights of others.  There seems to be in their
minds a sense of fitness, which instinctively
teaches them how to act. Wherever one finds
true honor, he finds also manliness.
5. The love of country very properly comes
in here. That there is such a feeling, all admit.
It is natural for one to love the land of his
birth. The feeling grows up imperceptibly
with the growth of the mind. Love of country
would seem to be an extension of the love of
home. Man is first a son, then a citizen.  The
parental government is preparatory and auxiliary to the civil government. Patriotism is
always held in honor when manifested in its
purity. It is right that it should be, as it is difficult to find one who is truly patriotic. The
feeling is very apt to mingle with others less
pure, as a clear rill loses itself in the turbid river.
6. Friendship is worthy of all praise. There
is a law of affinity running through the universe.




210        NATURAL BENEVOLENCE.
Like tends to like. In matter and mind this
holds true. One may have many acquaintances,
but few friends.  The soul loves concentration.
The heart loves unity.  One may say, Goodmorning or Good-evening to many; yet the
salutation which tells of the soul's day and
night is spoken in the ears of a select few.
Perhaps the communions of the spirit are best
rehearsed in the hearing of but one kindred
mind.  There is more of sacred secrecy when
one only is at your side; it is an intrusion for
others to draw near. David was contented
with Jonathan; Damon with Pythias. Aristotle
says: "Those friendships which are most celebrated, are between two only. Those who
have many friends, and are familiar with
everybody, are by no one thought to be friends,
except in a political sense; and these are
called men-pleasers."  It is not certain, however, that one friend is all that man craves.
7. The philanthropic spirit next demands attention.  This is the love of man as man.
One who has this spirit seeks to remove the
evils which press upon humanity.  There are
but few  distinguished philanthropists.  The
fact that the word suggests, only a name, here
* Nicom. Ethics, b. ix. c. x. Transl. by Prof. Browne.




NATURAL BENEVOLENCE.       211
and there, shows this. In private life there
are persons whose bosoms burn with a truly
philanthropic love; but they are never heard
of beyond their own little circle of acquaintances.  The feeling sometimes loses itself in
that of hospitality, as being the only way it can
manifest itself under the circumstances.
8. We may close our list by noticing the
feeling of gratitude. It is a law of gratitude
that it can only exist in view of a disinterested
act. The moment we realize that one is selfish
in his gift, we cannot feel grateful.  We rather
abhor the man who is seeking praise through
the guise of beneficence. Lord Kames notices
a very peculiar characteristic pertaining to
gratitude.  He says: "A signal act of gratitude produces in the spectator or reader, not
only love or esteem for the author, but also a
separate feeling, being a vague feeling of grat.
itude, without an object-a feeling however
that disposes the spectator or reader to acts of
gratitude, more than upon an ordinary occasion."'The feeling is singular in the following respect
-that it is accompanied with a desire to perform  acts of gratitude, without having any
object; though in that state, the mind, wonderfully bent on an object, neglects no oppor



212        NATURAL BENEVOLENCE.
tunity to vent itself: any act of kindness or
good will, that would pass unregarded upon
another occasion, is greedily seized; and the
vague feeling is converted into a real passion
of gratitude: in such a state, favors are
returned double."*
These features of natural goodness are the
most important; and we need not enlarge.
The point for us now to settle is the moral
quality of all this benevolence.
No one will deny that it is purely natural for
a mother to love her children, and purely natural also for one to feel sympathy for another
in distress. These feelings are very strong,
even much stronger than the affections of our
moral nature; yet for all this they spring forth
spontaneously. The wisdom of God is seen in
this marked arrangement of human nature.
He has done for the family and for those in
distress what we never would have done, if we
simply were possessed of a moral nature. As
to the propriety of calling these natural affections benevolent, there may be a question. We
certainly do not speak of a benevolent bear or
tiger, although these animals have natural affections. Dogs have performed deeds which al* " Elements of Criticism," chap. ii. part i,




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 213
most shame out of existence the actions of
man, yet we are not willing to speak of benevolent dogs. From the nature of the case, then,
the word benevolence is used in an inferior
sense when it is applied to the working of the
instinctive feelings.  The sound of the word,
we suppose, has deluded many; for they have
thought themselves morally good, when in fact
they were only naturally good.
Moreover, it must be admitted that an act
cannot be virtuous unless it springs from a
virtuous principle.  When we see the most
wicked men, then, manifesting natural benevolence, we are compelled to conclude that it has
no virtuous foundation. Such men can have
love and pity, and yet be the most perfect villains.  They care nothing about virtue; they
oppose it; they at heart dislike it; while they
have a peculiar relish for the most sinful indulgences. Now, this would be impossible if true
goodness existed in the soul. If a man loves
his friend, and is grateful to his benefactor,
because a holy principle prompts him to act in
this way, how is it that he has a fixed aversion
to the pure and the good at the same time?
Surely if one has true love, he will love the
lovely wherever it is found, and hate that which




214        NATURAL BENEVOLENCE,
is opposed to it. If a divine principle of benevolence were the root and spring of all the
special affections, then, we should expect to
see each man loving God supremely, and his
neighbor as himself; but it is very certain that
millions care neither for God nor man. We
cannot, then, make human beings truly benevolent at so cheap a rate. It is the grand
peculiarity of a holy principle in the heart that
it makes the subject of it love all creatures.
In the nature of things it can have no limit.
The moment you limit a holy principle, that
moment you take away its peculiar quality.
If I am a good man, I must love all beings according to their standing in the universe, and
must love holiness wherever I find it.  It
would be absurd for me to say, "I love the
men who are around me, and hate all others;
I love the holiness which is manifested in my
neighborhood, and hate that which exists beyond it." The conclusion then is, that if one
does not love outside of the sphere of the
special affections, he does not possess divine
love at all. A holy affection is not confined to
the finite; it rests only when it has reached
the Infinite.
Perhaps we may be asked just here, if sym



YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 215
pathy for the distressed and love for a child
are never truly good feelings?  We answer,
that all the instinctive feelings may be truly
good when a virtuous principle enters into and
directs them.  If one can love his children so
as to train them up for God and eternity, then,
most assuredly this is good. If one's gratitude
is the outgoing of a benevolent heart, it is
praiseworthy. All the affections can be sanctified. There may be a sanctified philanthropy
like that of John Howard's, and even a sanctified amiability in the form of Christian meekness. Furthermore, it belongs to the nature
of a virtuous principle to extend the area of
the special affections. It is not mere outward
distress that draws forth the sympathies; the
feeling now extends to the soul as sinful and
lost. These are entirely new elements.  The
natural man will feel deeply for one who has
been crushed and torn by a machine; but
he will manifest the utmost indifference in
regard to a ruined soul just ready to plunge
into a hopeless eternity. A benevolent principie superadded to the instincts of nature
enables one to take in the whole of man, the
soul as well as the body. In fact, the whole
of being is enlarged. Man is carried into a




216        NATURAL BENEVOLENCE,
new and higher region. The holy, the divine,
and the eternal, he sees all around him. A
new channel is made for the sympathies to flow
in; a new force is added to the soul; a new
character is given to the heart.
"Hence in estimating the precise moral
quality of any beneficence, which man may
have executed, it is indispensable to know in
how far he was schooled into it at the bidding
of principle, and in how far urged forward to
it by the impulse of a special affection. To do
good to another because he feels that he ought,
is an essentially distinct exhibition from doing
the same good by the force of parental love, or
of an instinctive and spontaneous compassion
-as distinct as the strength of a constitutionally implanted desire is from the sense of
a morally incumbent obligation. In as far as
I am prompted to the relief of distress by a
movement of natural pity-in so far less is left
for virtue to do. In as far as I am restrained
from the outbreakings of an anger which
tumultuates within, by the dread of a counterresentment and retaliation froin without-in
so far virtue has less to resist. It is thus that
the special affections may at once lighten the
tasks and lessen the temptations of virtue;




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 217
and, whether in the way of help at one time
or of defence at another, may save the very
existence of a principle, which in its own
unaided frailty, might, among the rude conflicts of life, have else been overborne. It is
perhaps indispensable to the very being of virtue among men, that, by means of the special
affections, a certain force of inclination has
been superadded to the force of principle-we
doubt not in proportions of highest wisdom, of
most exquisite skill and delicacy. But still the
strength of the one must be deducted, in computing the real amount and strength of the
other; and so the special affections of our nature not only subserve a purpose in time, but
are of essential and intimate effect in the processes of our moral preparation, and will eventually tell on the high retributions of eternity."*
We must not fail to notice this, however,
that our sinful nature very frequently gives a
coloring and direction to our constitutional
affections, which really changes the instinctive
benevolence into supreme selfishness.  The
love of country, for instance, very easily
merges into vain glory. In the feeling of
honor there may be pride. And even in the
* Chalmers, Moral Phil. p. 816.
10




218        NATURAL BENEVOLENCE,
case of sympathy, when one plunges into the
water to save a drowning man, there may be a
large share of self-glorification.  In the family
affections there may be idolatry,-loving children and one another more than God. Thus
in many cases, no doubt, where persons have
been praised for the performance of noble deeds,
there have been out of sight the ever-willing
impulses of a sinful nature. If men were sufficiently honest to make known their motives,
much that is called benevolence would receive
the proper name of sin.   "Sin proceeding
from the?ill as the primitive ground of all
personal being, penetrates deeply into human
development, entwines itself as a deadly
creeper in all directions and ramifications of
the same, everywhere checking, disturbing, and
complicating. No sphere shows us any longer
its true order in undisturbed form; as sin to
the will, so error attaches to thought, impurity
to the fancy, unhappiness to the feeling, and
pain and sickness to physical life." *  This
being the case, natural goodness is greatly corrupted by moral evil. We do not see it in its
purity, except on very rare occasions.  Of
course there are times, when man, prompted
* Miller, Doct. of Sin, vol. i, p. 411.




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 219
by his natural affections, performs deeds that
are unselfish. A mother is quite likely to be
disinterested when she leaps down a well to
save her child.  A  poor outcast individual
whom we once assisted will with the freest
gratitude give us a cup of cold water which we
may have asked from him.  Such cases of unselfishness we admit.  But really they do not
destroy the fact of the total depravity of man.
If man were unselfish because of a principle
of love to God in his heart, then, we should
say, he is not totally depraved; but when he
is unselfish because a constitutional affection
hurries him on in that direction, we cannot
attach much moral importance to the fact.
The great evil with man is, that he is destitute of holiness.  This he does not love.  He
desires not the spotless purity of God. Any
amount of natural benevolence cannot make up
for the absence of holiness. Instinctive goodness clings to man, just as the silver clings to
the coffin that is rotting in the sepulchre. The
thought presses upon us that there is a lost feeling. As we examine the mind of man, we
perceive there every faculty of an intelligent
being,-there is no lost faculty. But we do
see that there is no central feeling of supreme




220        NATURAL BENEVOLENCE,
love to God. There are many feelings suited
to the different relations of life, but we cannot
perceive one which unites the soul in holy love
to the Deity. Here is the great evil. The
one feeling that should give character to the
whole man is lost; and so he is totally depraved. The inferior parts of the mind have,
as a consequence, asserted the supremacy; and
they rule as they please. Reason lifts up her
voice, but her voice is not heard amid the din
and turmoil of the passions. Conscience echoes
forth the mand'ate of Heaven, but it is unheeded; right and retribution fail before the
power of evil desire. The fire of the heart
has gone out; and with the very ashes, the
winds of appetite and selfishness have blinded
the eyes of the soul. The electric spark has
vanished away. There is nothing but a withered affection at the root of being.  The great
feeling is lost.
Thus we can see the absolute need of the
supernatural.  The life of God must again
animate the soul. The lost feeling must be
found. When the dead affection, which is
sepulchred beneath the will, between the reason and the conscience, is again resuscitated,
then an influence holy and divine will spread




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 221
over the soul. A character then will be given
to the special affections. They will be baptized with the power of the Divine Spirit.
They will be set apart to a holy use. They
will act for God, while acting for man.
It is possible that some one may endeavor
to neutralize these statements by pointing to
John Howard as the very personification of
natural benevolence. That this great man had
his share of natural benevolence, we feel willing enough to admit; but if he had nothing
more, his whole career is a mystery.  " The real
HIoward, who devoted his life to the jail and
the lazaretto, was a very different person from
that ideal of benevolence which the verse of
Darwin, or the eloquence of Burke, had called
up into our minds. Instead of this faint and
classic ideal, we have the intensely and somewhat sternly religious man, guided and sustained, every step of his way, not alone, nor
principally, by the amiable but vacillating sentiment which passes under the name of philanthropy, but by an exalted, severe, imperative
sense of duty." s" Those who have rested content (and we think there are many such) with
that impression of Howard which is derived
from the panegyrics scattered through our polite




222        NATURAL BENEVOLENCE,
literature, and who accordingly attribute to
him as the master motive of his conduct, simply a wide benevolence-a sentiment of humanity exalted to a passion-must be conscious of
a certain uneasy sense of doubt, an involuntary
scepticism; must feel that there is something
here unexplained, or singularly exaggerated.
Their Howard, if they should scrutinize their
impression, is a quite anomalous person. No
philanthropist they have ever heard of-no
mere lover of his kind, sustained only by the
bland sentiment of humanity, not even supported by any new enthusiastic faith in the
perfectibility of the species-ever lived the
life of this man, or passed through a tithe of
his voluntary toils and sufferings."  " The
craving of' his soul was some great task-work,
to be done in the eye of Heaven. Not the
love of man, nor the praise of man, but conscience, and to be a servant of the Most High,
were his constant motive and desire."
To take from Christianity the honor of forming the great love of Howard, by holding forth
this love as natural benevolence, is the highest
species of spiritual plunder.  The spring of
Howard's philanthropy is made known to us in
his own words: " The preparation of the heart




YET THE NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL. 223
is of God-prepare the heart, 0 God, of thy
unworthy creature, and unto thee be all the
glory through the boundless ages of eternity."
We commend the life of such a man as a fine
specimen of supernatural benevolence.




CHAPTER        III.
SIN DEVELOPED, NOT HOLINESS, BY FIXED LAWS
OF THE FEELINGS: THE SUPERNATURAL
NEEDED TO GIVE A NEW DIRECTION TO THE
HEART.
WE now turn our attention to a series of
thoughts just the opposite of those which have
been considered in the two previous chapters.
Leaving the good, we come to the evil. If
man is dead though possessing so much that
is lovely, then is he twice dead by the sin that
rages in the soul. There are laws of sin con.
nected with man's emotional nature as fixed
and uniform as the laws of the material universe.
1. When one does wrony there is an attempt
made to justify self. Suppose a man has allowed himself to be wrought up to a very high
degree of anger by reason of the remarks of
another; the first tendency of the mind is towards self-justification. With all the conflict



LAWS OF SIN.           225
ing scene mentally present and the feelings still
excited, the soul moves as quick as thought
from point to point of the whole transaction,
selecting the witnesses favorable to self and
rejecting those that are unfavorable, by which
means an apparently well-authenticated plea is
established. If the man has any conscience
at all, which we suppose he has, there will be
a debate between that faculty and the feelings
of the heart. There is really a doubt forcing
itself on the attention, intimating that the late
passion was not all right. The soul, however,
is not willing to yield.  Mental arguments
derived from the reproduced scene are brought
forward, and these in part silence the conscience. If the angry man is stubborn in his
disposition, it will be all the harder to condemn
self. He will stand up for his rights, and will
naturally speak of the case to others if so be
he may enlist them on his side. If he chances
to meet one who witnessed the whole affair,
and who joins in with him, this will be a
great encouragement; he will now open his
mind freely, mentioning at the same time the
bad features apparent or real in the words
and manner of his opponent. We may note
also, that persons are more likely to justify
10*




226            LAWS OF SIN.
themselves in habitual sins, than in occasional
ones. Being habitual, they are loved more;
hence it is not so easy to condemn self on
account of them. Even the drunkard and
gambler will advance arguments to uphold them
in their wickedness. Yea, the murderer will
tell you that through passion, revenge, or lack
of money, he killed his neighbor, thinking by
such a statement to palliate his crime. It is
hard to confess guilt. The practice of making
excuses, which is so common among mankind
when they have done wrong, is the fruit of
self-justification. Adam must needs blame
Eve, and Eve the serpent; while it is possible
that Satan justified his malignity by the fact
that he was cast out of heaven.  The last link
in the chain is either to make God the author
of sin, or to say that sin is a necessary ingredient of finite mind.
2. Good feelings excited, but not acted out,
increase depravity. When one is prompted to
duty by an impulse of the better nature, and
does not heed this, but rather resists it, the
holy spring or momentum is taken away. To
every action or course of action there is feeling.
This feeling is the motive power of the soul.
Emotional energy is the strongest at the be



LAWS OF SIN.           227
ginning of a new course of life. More feeling
is needed to start one on the path of duty than
is needed afterwards, because benevolent habit
is strengthened by every repeated act, and this
takes the place of the feeling.  Hence we
speak of certain good men who act from principle, although they manifest no great amount
of emotion, that not being needed so much as
at the first. A -dty by continual practice becomes easy, and demands less power; while at
the first it was difficult, and demanded a great
deal. Emotional force is thus saved, to be
used for other duties about to begin, or other
courses of action not fully established..Now,
this wise arrangement is completely overturned
when the excitation to duty is resisted. Even
-the idly wishing that we could do as the feeling
dictates only hardens the sensibilities. Emotion also awakened by reading works of fiction,
but not acted out, is deadening in its influence.
The tears shed are not those that fall when one
is seeking to elevate the wretched.  This sympathy, which does nothing for the helpless and
the vile, is but wasted pity, drinking the sacred
life out of the heart. It turns men and women
into lazy and weeping sentimentalists. They
live and dream in an ideal world of existence,




228            LAWS OF SIN.
forgetting the actual scene of being that is
around them with all its woes and wickedness.
They would rather weep than work, rather
sigh than save.
3. Bad feelings are frequently awakened in the
breast by the presentation of good objects. This
is a strange reversing of things; for the natural
method is to present good objects in order to
develop good feelings. The natural method,
however, is overturned by a wicked heart.
Suppose a benefactor suddenly to appear in our
presence whose favors in times past we had
not sufficiently esteemed,-we wish at once
that he had not come near us. IHe only reminds
us of our ingratitude, and thus arouses the
conscience. Hence we treat him coldly, and
wish him  away. It is truly remarked by
Kant, that "every benefactor ought to hold
himself prepared for the awakening up of the
propensity slumbering in the human heart to
hold in aversion the object of its obligations."
If the saying of the ancients be correct, that
"nothing grows so soon old as gratitude," then,
a sight of the man who befriended us must be
distasteful to our feelings. The conduct of
the Scribes and Pharisees towards the person
of Christ forcibly illustrates the point. They




LAWS OF SIN.           229
hated the truths which he uttered, although
these truths were pure and holy; and they
hated still more the pure and holy life which
he exhibited. Hence to get him out of their
sight they must needs kill him. It is a great
mistake to suppose that all would love pure
virtue if they could only once see it.
4. A guilty man unwilling to do good is only
irritated when his duty is pressed upon him.
There are two combined causes of this irritability. First, the man loves some sin or course
of sin which he is unwilling to forsake, and so
is displeased with any one who urges him to
forsake it. Secondly, he feels guilty because
of his wickedness; and, of course, the indignation of the moral faculty is only increased
when a duty pointed out is not heeded. This
complex state of mind tends greatly to sour
the temper. One is frequently peevish and
hasty without knowing the cause. The smallest
matters will irritate a man when he is in this
state. The greatest crimes will be committed
when the light of truth and the fire of conscience surround and madden the spirit of the
transgressor. The ocean foams the most when
it breaks along the shore, and can go no further.
Adam and Eve were never so miserable as




230            LAWS OF SIN.
when the Lord God called them forth from
their hiding place. The most wretched hour
in the life of Judas was when he saw that he
had betrayed the Innocent One. The torment
of the wicked on a death-bed is caused by a
vision of law and love.
5. Sympatly in wickedness unites enemies.
Though to all appearance two persons must remain apart forever, inasmuch as they have no
goodness to bring them together, yet not unfrequently they are brought to approve the
same wicked deed, which at once makes them
constant friends. The most noted illustration
of this peculiar fact of mind is found in the
conduct of Pilate and Herod with reference to
Christ. These two rulers agreed in the act of
condemning Jesus. Hence we read: "The
same day Pilate and Herod were made friends
together; for before they were at enmity between themselves."  The subtle nature of this
feeling in those who exercise it, doubless makes
them think that it is a good affection that
unites, and not an evil.   But there is a
diabolic harmony in the most unharmonious
principle. Friendship because of sin, would
never take place if sin were not loved.
6. False zeal opposed or rendered unsuccessful




LAWS OF SIN.           231
turns to rage. A true feeling of enthusiasm
will burn with more intensity when it comes in
contact with opposition. Indeed, opposition
seems to be a necessary condition for the development of a high and godlike enthusiasm.
It is otherwise with the spurious feeling. Not
being bottomed on truth and love, it is onesided, and speedily end~ in fury. Those wild
persecutions, which have been undertaken by
men inspired with a false zeal for the church,
prove most conclusively the point before us.
Such persons were only embittered and rendered perfectly furious by the unshrinking
fidelity of the noble confessors of Jesus. No
punishment was deemed too great for such obstinacy. Hence Neander speaks thus of one
of the Roman emperors: " As the feelings of
Julian against the Christians and against Christianity were continually more and more exasperated by the opposition which he experienced,
it may be readily conjectured that, if he had
returned back successfully from his Persian
campaign, he would have become a violent persecutor of the church."'' But all true zeal is
patient. It never ends in bad temper. It is
both pure and peaceable.
* Ch. Hist. vol. ii. p. 66.




232            LAWS OF SIX.
7. When one dislikes another, he takes pleasure in hecring the object of his dislike spoken
against. The eye brightens and the countenance glows as the faults of the hated man are
circulated all around. The hatred appears to
be consecrated by this means; there seems to
be a ground for it; the pleasure therefore is
great. If the kindred.of the hated individual
take also a dislike to him, this intensifies the
joy. If any crime is discovered of which he
has been guilty, this is fastened upon at once,
and the profit added to the common stock. If
any temporal evil befall him, as the loss of
property, this produces a secret delight.  The
conviction is that he ought to suffer. This
conviction may be kept a secret, as there is
always more or less of sympathy for one who
suffers loss; yet there is hidden gratification
at the event. The element of revenge takes
shape in the physical evil. The retaliation
found in hatied is satisfied when the man
suffers.
8. When one hates another, it is natural to
oppose his measures.  Hatred begets in the
mind a feeling of prejudice against the person
hated; and prejudice gives a false meaning to
all that is done. Let even a good measure be




LAWS OF SIN.            233
started by the hated man,-that makes but little difference,-it is natural to oppose. If certain persons, however, with whom the hater is
on good terms, had made known to him the
adopted measure, and had asked his co6peration without saying a word repecting its author,
then, most assuredly he would have fallen in
with it. But, if afterwards the author's name
were revealed, the bitter opposer would now be
troubled, and would wish to have no more to
do with the scheme in hand. Every one can
verify this picture by a little observation of
men.
9. If wve wouldc injure a person, it is natural
first to blac/en hs chcaracter. The mind with
all its darkness and depravity still loves, at
least, the appearance of consistency. It is
hard to call the white black, unless we have
thrown the dark shadow of our soul over it to
make it appear such. If one must needs be
condemned, he must first be found guilty. The
Jews were eager to see Christ put to death;
hence he who was holy was accused of blasphemy, and so nothing remained but to crucify
him. If one would find a ground of objection
against the Christian religion, it is enough to
say that Christians are inconsistent, weak



234            LAWS OF SIN.
minded, and   superstitious.  When  Gibbon
would show the absurdity of Christianity, it
seemed to him sufficient to state, "that the
profane of every age have derided the furious
contests which the difference of a single diphthong excited between the Homoousians and
the IIomoiousians.": A single diphthong might
be a small matter to Mr. Gibbon when it related
to the nature of the Son of God, and so good
opportunity arises in making so much ado about
it; but when the insertion of a small Greek
letter in the middle of a word can change its
meaning from the Infinite to the finite, all is
different. Whether we have a system to condemn or a man to slander, evil of some kind
must be associated with the disapproved object.
10. A favor frequently bestowed, instead of
producing gratitude, produces the feeling that one
is entitled to receive the favor. Let a beggar be
in the habit of coming daily to your door in
order to receive a portion of food. At first, he
is grateful. After a season, however, he loses
all sense of gratitude, and thinks that you are
doing no more than right in supplying his
wants. Should the usual gift cease, he will
feel quite displeased, and will talk as if some
* " Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire," chap. xxi.




LAWS OF SIN.          235
act of injustice had been done to him. It
would seem that the act of beneficence, by being
repeated, is viewed by the one benefitted as an
act of justice, and being such, there is a claim
to it. Perhaps the reason why the gifts of
God make so little impression on the mind is
the fact that they come to us so frequently.
H-ence the reason also why so few are thankful.
Then, by and by, the hardened recipient will
tell you that God is under obligation to take
care of him, and that he, a sinner, is under no
obligation to be thankful.
These are the laws of the feelings which have
a bearing on the development of depravity. As
facts of the existing nature of man they cannot
be denied. We are led by them to take a more
profound view of human sinfulness than is
usually taken by the majority of men. These
laws fix our attention on subjective depravity.
We are led to look at inward states, rather than
at outward.acts. In the visible sphere, there
may be a world of apparent goodness; in the
invisible, a world of unmixed iniquity. Many
are never conscious that they are averse to
holiness; many never know that they are delighted with sin. How few, for instance, ever
become cognizant of this fact-that when one




236            LAWS OF SIN.
dislikes another there is pleasure in hearing the
object of his dislike spioken against. Yet this
single characteristic lets us into the very secret
of the heart's depravity. There is a real love
of evil, and a certainty that that love will continue to show itself so long as man remains in
his natural state.  To speak of developing
holiness is without meaning; sin only can be
developed, as seen by the uniform working of
the laws that we have pointed out. In fact,
the whole moral nature may be said to be under
one great law of sin and death.  Self-reformation is morally impossible when this is the case.
Truth can do dothing to change the current
and character of the soul.   Indeed, if the
truth is clearly perceived, it will arouse the
evil of the heart, but will not lessen it or
weaken it in the least.  Suppose that a revelation of the unstained purity of God is flashed
upon the mind,-will that wither and consume
the moral evil that rages within the breast?
Far from it. Just in proportion to the clearness and fulness of the vision of God, will be
the strength of opposition against him.  There
can be no sympathy between a sinful nature
and a holy nature. Evil will affiliate with evil,
and will oppose the good. If the holy and




LAWS OF SIN.          237
perfect law of God is revealed to man, will it
arrest his depravity? By no means. The
law to a guilty man is more dreaded than anything else. The closer it is applied to the conscience, the more intensely is guilt aroused and
enmity engendered. No truth, however high
and however holy it may be, will sanctify and
save a sinful spirit. If our design is to so shut
up man that he will feel himself to be in a
hopeless, helpless condition, no better method
could be devised for the accomplishment of
such an end than the simple presentation of
divine truth. In this way there may be a
preparation of soul for the supernatural, but
nothing more. We admit, of course, that truth
may develop an ethical life. All the outward
movements may be well timed, pleasant to look
upon, and instinct with favors to friend and
foe; but what of all this, so long as the heart
is dead. No man is right till he can say:
"The law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus
hath made me free from the law of sin and
death."
Indeed, there is no security for any man
except it be found in what may be called a law
of being. The spiritual force or tendency of
the soul must be in the direction of holiness




238            LAWS OF SIN.
and God. A man's chief end springs from the
leading drift of the soul. A law of being is
therefore the first and fundamental thing.
Man must have a holy nature, if he would
have an ultimate end that is holy. This is
simply saying that he must be a law unto himself. Outward restraints are very good, for
they may check the evil that is within to a certain extent; yet, if the evil is to be destroyed,
the nature must first be changed. God acts as
he does because of his moral being. The law
that is to guide him forever is but the accepted
law of his perfect nature. All is easy when
this is the case. Even the good man thinks
not of the law of the state. The divine movement of his soul is a law, and he needs no
other. All the individual laws of the feelings
that we have sketched will continue to be wrong,
until the character of the soul is changed; for
they are but so many movements of that
character. The laws of the feelings as found
in the angel mind do not mark the course of
sin, but rather the course of holiness. A moral
revolution in the character of man is therefore
necessary if he would act like higher powers.




CHAPTER IV.
THE SOUL IN RUINS: A SUPERNATURAL RES.
TORATION REQUIRED.
THE soul in ruins! The very sound of the
words produces sadness. We seem to be sitting in the midst of some of the fallen cities
of the Orient. The oppressive sense of desolation breeds melancholy. We naturally bow
the head and meditate. If a correct view
would be gained of the ruins of the soul, we
must take different stand-points. I begin,
therefore, first, with the strife and conflict of
the mental powers, as sure evidences of ruin
within.
Conscience and the heart are at variance.
Man can never sink so low as to lose the
moral faculty. Without this there would be
no ground of appeal. To restore man would
require a physical miracle, if he had no con
science. This great faculty testifies of God,
righteousness, judgment. The peculiarity of
the schism is, that the conscience claims su.




240         THE SOUL IN RUINS.
preme obedience, while the heart will not yield
this. The ought of the one faculty clashes
with the aversion of the other. Malice, envy,
pride, ambition, selfishness, are in conflict with
their opposites. Not only sinful acts, but sinful states, oppose the superior behests of conscience.  This schism in the soul is felt all the
keener when conscience is fully enlightened.
Then the command is more imperative, and the
opposition to it more determined.  At the
point when one would do good, evil is the most
rampant. It is also a thought worthy of attention that, when a man is about to adopt a
new and better course of life, then is the time
that it is found to be the hardest. All the
principles of evil marshal themselves together
in an instant in order to oppose the good
course, and to hold their own usurped supremacy. If one is about to adopt the Christian
religion, he will find just at the turning point
a mountain to ascend higher than ever appeared
before. From the very nature of excited depravity there is a cross to be taken up. Not
knowing this, many give way when they have
almost reached the dividing line.   Pride,
enmity, and self-ease are all excited; and the
soul falters. Each one must kill a Goliath be



THE SOUL IN RUINS.        241
fore he can be the King's son. When a man
is intimidated by the difficulties which the
heart has called into being, the accusations of
conscience break forth with full force, and the
human spirit is rent in pieces. Remorse and
condemnation worry the soul; secret hate and
self-will tear the wound open which they have
made. The enginery of conscience is fearfully
at work beating against the walls of the spirit,
making openings here and there; while the
evil principles of the heart are digging down
out of sight, undermining the whole.
Conscience is also opposed by the propensities
and appetites. Neither the propensities nor the
appetites are wrong in themselves. They belong to our original nature, and were designed
for good. Yet the fact that they have an impulse which clamors for satisfaction shows us
there is danger. And we know sufficiently
well that they have gone beyond their legitimate use. Curiosity, imitation, the possessory
principle, desire of esteem, emulation, the love
of power, and other natural characteristics,
have all gone into the region of selfishness.
Conscience has not been able to keep these
propensities in their proper place. Whether
they first brought evil into the heart, or the heart
11




242          THE SOUL IN RUINS.
first brought evil into them, it really makes no
difference; now the whole soul is corrupted;
and all evil influence goes from  one realm to
the other.  The appetites, also, from  their
strong native power, have generally led captive tile moral faculty. Man has become the
sport and prey of his passions.  There is a
tendency to animalism. An immortal being is
compelled to ride on the back of his lusts.
Let the divine eye of the soul now be all light,
and there is at once a war desperate in proportion to the might of the opposing forces.  The
stronger the attachment to evil, the fiercer the
tumult within. This is in accordance with the
law of every principle good or bad in the universe. Each principle seeks to bring all into
conformity with itself.  Hence, in the soul of
man, each principle is a centre of attraction.
Each acts according to its nature. Each would
be victorious. This is the true reason of a
schism in the human soul. There is a tendency
in the good to draw all to goodness, and to
repelthe evil: and there is a tendency in the
evil to draw all to evil, and to repel the good.
We have thus different potencies in the creaturely spirit, acting according to their necessary laws.   Each in its nature is distinct




THE SOUL IN RUINS.        243
and unchangeable; and so long as they remain
as they are, there must be war and confusion.
Reason and the will clash. The human reason sides with truth, duty, God. Away back
of the passions, heart, and understanding, we
have the reason speaking the clearest and the
loudest in favor of the good. Optimism is the
natural language of the highest faculty of the
soul. Themes which are forcing themselves on
the attention are approved or condemned by
the reason.  The upshot of all thought is
echoed forth by this noble faculty. The doctrine of final causes is the doctrine of the
reason. It may be affirmed with a good degree of certainty that the celestial reason approves the divine revelations of the Bible; and
if men would but follow the promptings of
their higher nature, not a sceptic would be
found. The will, however, is vitiated; it is
fixed to evil. It is not a fit organ for the
reason; will not carry out its behests; is in a
state of servitude to the heart. At times, indeed, it is whipped by the conscience into the
performance of some outward duty; but this
is so soulless, and so much against its native
preference, that it counts  nothing  when
measured by a divine morality. The will is




244          THE SOUL IN RUINS.
habituated to evil; and though the reason speak
ever so clearly it will not obey. When two of
the noblest faculties thus run counter to each
other, we can see what a tumult there must be
within.
The, intuition of the divine and the counterpart of this, self-idolatry, explain the jarring of
the soul.  The great battle of the ages is the
conflict between God and the soul. All the
other conflicts resolve themselves into this.
The night-synthesis of depravity is. All the
atheism, pantheism, deism, and spiritualism, are
merely attempts to elevate self at the expense
of the Eternal. The great schism in the soul
of man, occasioned by the divine and undivine,
is but a type of the greater schism  found in
the moral system of the universe. The perturbations that move the monarchy of God are
but the oppositions of the finite to the Infinite.
The war of centuries and systems; of heaven,
hell, and earth; of angels, demons and men;
of truth, love and sin,-is no other than a terrible strife between the creature and the Creator, between the subject and the Sovereign.
The soul is a little world with refLrence to
moral anarchy, as well as with reference to
other things. We behold the schism in all its




THE SOUL IN RUINS.        245
malignity when we see the human asserting its
supremacy over the divine. We wonder not
now at the misery of man. The soul never
can be happy without God. The flashing forth
of the divine purity on the dark character of
man must of itself make him utterly miserable.
lie may plunge deeper and still deeper into
night, in order to get away from this and to
feel easy in his mind; but the divine apparition
will fail not to chase him, and at unexpected
moments get before him, and look his soul into
complete terror and dismay. One at some
quiet hour may be complacently adoring himself; but in an instant God appears, and a
mental tumult is the result. Like a thief
caught in the act of stealing, or a murderer in
the act of killing, so is it with man when God
surrounds him in the midst of his wickedness.
Again, unsatisfied aspirations, even though
present good is obtained, reveal a world of misery
in the soul. Who does not know and who does
not feel that even when all the good of time
has been gained, there yet is restlessness and
torment? This phase of the subject is indeed
the most patent of any of the thoughts just
mentioned.  We come nearer in this to the
consciousness of each individual.  Much of




246         THE SOUL IN RUINS.
effort is put forth to keep the soul easy. Anything is deemed better than realizing the gnawing pain of the human spirit. There is manifestly an attempt to get beyond the unhappy
sounds of the soul. Excitement of some kind
is generally found the most favorable. This
drowns the plaintive cry of the troubled mind.
It brings a glow over the soul. It is a species
of mental intoxication. When one round of
excitement is run, another must follow, or else
the soul will begin telling of its misery. In
this way life is passed, by the most of men.
Few are willing to face the utter unhappiness
of an immortal soul. Few are willing to meditate on their misery in order to comprehend
and feel it, that they may the more earnestly
long for a sufficient remedy. To forget the
whole or a part is the more common way.
Men flee from themselves as from a demon,
that they may reach some angel good beyond
them; and they are only willing to return when
they have a bribe in their hand wherewith they
may purchase peace, if it be but for an hour.
How deep the aspirations of a human soul for
something which the present can never furnish!
"It thirsts after a good, invisible, immaterial,
and immortal, to the enjoyment whereof the




THE SOUL IN RUINS.        247
ministry of a body is so far from being necessary
that it feels itself shut up and confined by that to
which it is now united, as by a partition wall,
and groans under the pressure of it. And those
souls that are quite insensible of this thirst, are
certainly buried in the body, as in the carcass of
an impure hog; nor have they so entirely divested
themselves of this appetite we have mentioned,
nor can they possibly so divest themselves of it,
as not to feel it severely, to their great misery,
sooner or later, either when they awake out of
their lethargy within the body, or when they
are obliged to leave it."*
Still further, sin is contrary to the constitution
of thle soul; hence the misery which is ever
felt there. * If sin were in perfect harmony with
the nature of mind, there could be no unhappiness; but now since there is unhappiness,
we can only conclude that sin is a principle at
war with the soul as God made it. In all the
unrest of the. spirit of man, we can see nothing but a protest against iniquity.  Sin, although it has made a lodgment in the soul, is
not there by the assent of the whole mind.
There are voices ever and anon speaking against
it. We know that sin has gained the heart and
* Leighton's Works, i. p. 657.




248         THE SOUL IN RUINS.
the will; and, so far as these are concerned,
there is death-like harmony; but there is a
deeper heart and a deeper will in the original
native soul, both of which testify, though to no
purpose, against its usurpations. In a profound
sense, the soul is duothelitic instead of monothelitic. And in a sense equally pregnant with
meaning, sin is involuntary as well as voluntary.
The aboriginal soul, which is crushed down by
the superincumbent mass of the developed one,
will not acquiesce in sin, —here it is involuntary;
while the developed soul does acquiesce,-here
it is voluntary. There is a primitive spectral soul
ever haunting the one that has wandered astray,
and ever pronouncing a condemnation against its
deeds of wickedness. No sin can reach this
haunting spirit, neither can any misery frighten
it away; it will follow after the wicked forever,
and forever will it mirror forth to the descending soul the primal man. He that has gone
deep enough into his being, beneath all his
opinions and reasonings and logic ending in sin,
must have noticed the utterances of a superior
soul, telling of the pure, the divine, the endless; and never for a moment taking sides with
the false or the sinful. Why the continual
longing for something higher and better than




THE SOUL IN RUINS.        249
earth can give, if sin be not against the constitution of the soul?  Why guilt, punishment,
and fear with its prophetic eyes, if sin be not
an encroachment?   The truth is, sin is a
usurper; a despot reigns within.  The soul
recoils from its enemy. It will condemn the
tyrant. It will approve the good. It will ever
sigh and weep in its slavery. The soul in its
deepest degradation will still cry for its God.
It will not, it cannot, be at rest without him.
Man was made for happiness, holiness, God;
not for misery, sin, self.
All of these conflicting movements of the
soul show its ruin. I proceed no further in
this direction. A second stand-point, different
from the preceding one, will now be taken,
from which the wide spreading ruins of the
spirit will be distinctly seen.
The globe which we inhabit first attracts our
attention.  There is much of beauty and fitness seen all around. The air, sea, and clouds
speak volumes. The seasons tell their story
of love. Continual food for the populous world
is a miracle; continual drink for all is another.
Wood, coal, and iron,-how much they speak
of life, comfort and civilization. The very
shaping of the earth shows wonderful adapta11*




250         THE SOUL IN RUINS.
tion. But there is another side. What mean
the wild blasts that sweep with harshness?
How bitter and cheerless the night of storms.
The air at times is filled with poison and plague.
The very sun burns up the fruit of the industrious. The worm gnaws out the life of vegetation. The sea arises in anger and breaks in
pieces the mightiest ships. Myriads in agony
sink in the deep. The earthquake overturns
the scattered villages, and the inhabitants are
devoured.  The volcano sends forth a river of
fire, and the cities are destroyed. What does
this mean?  Is the earth a paradise?  Certainly not. No one can view the great house
of mankind without feeling that the ruin there
is typical.  Something is wrong. We should
not expect a perfect race of beings in such a
strangely conditioned world.
The human body also shows symptoms of
dissolution. Weakness stares us in the face.
The pale countenance, the glassy eye, the
wrinkled brow, affirm that something is wrong.
Disease in all its manifold forms announces
decay. Weariness and pain show that physical
evil is at work. The house of the soul shakes
under the force of the tempest. The rafters
rot and give way. The roof sinks in. The




THE SOUL IN RUINS.        251
building falls to the ground. Death proclaims
corruption. That men die is enough. Why
do intelligent beings come and disappear so
strangely?  Not merely the old man at the
end of his days of weakness, but the youth.
Even the infant has just time to weep, to look
around,-then it dies. The very beasts suffer
and expire. What says reason to all this?
Does not the outward state of things impressively adumbrate some mighty catastrophe in
the region of mind?  Yes: the shadow of
souls darkens all the earth.
But look at the strange conduct of our species.
IHere is a man all intellect,-no conscience and
no heart.  He can study creation without seeing God; he can study history and see nothing
but man. Man has descended from an animal,
the animal from an infinitesimal monad, the
monad from a primitive ocean; that ocean is
the mother of us all. Life has sprung from
non-life; and death is an eternal sleep.  Here
is another man severing the head of a human
being from the body, and then drinking the
blood. His children are dashed on the ground;
his mother is killed through kindness. There
is a man worshipping a fly instead of the
infinite God  There is another making a god;




252         THE SOUL IN RUINS.
and having finished his work, he prays to the
wood. Here is one living a beggar, yet dying
in the midst of abundance. We behold art and
poetry also in their highest perfection, along
with the deepest licentiousness.  Science and
sin are brought strangely together. Here are
prisons with their criminals, fields of battle with
their soldiers, and the greater part of the human family finding their chief good in the
present life. But it is useless to continue.
Any man can see that something is radically
wrong. A view of the race shows that some
mental and moral disaster has taken place.
I-ow the ruin of the soul is apparent also
from the imvpefect conceptions respecting human
destiny. "When l  behold the whole universe
silent, and mmn without instruction, left alone,
and, as it were, a lost wanderer in this corner
of creation, without knowing who placed him
here, what he came to do, or what becomes of
him at death, I am alarmed as a man is, who
has been carried during his sleep, to a desolate
and gloomy island, and who has awaked, and
discovered that he knows not where he is, and
that he has ro means of escape. I wonder
how any one can avoid despair, at the considereration of this wretched state. I see others




THE SOUL IN RUINS.        253
around me having the same nature; I ask them
if they know more on this subject than I, and
they answer, no; and I see that these wretched
wanderers, having looked around them, and
discovered certain pleasurable objects, have
given themselves up to them without reserve.
For myself, I cannot rest contented with such
pleasures, nor find repose in the society of beings similar to myself, wretched and powerless
as myself. I see that they cannot help me to
die; I must die alone; it becomes me then to
act as if I were alone."'  The human spirit is
obviously in the midst of an eclipse.  The
Lofty One who reigns on high, the way.of approach to him for sinful men, the quieting of the
troubled mind, and the destinations of the future
are themes which are not distinctly known.
The fallen soul is like a mirror cracked and
broken. It does not reflect with truthfulness
the image of the Deity. Like a watch out of
order is the mind of man. It does not keep
time with the clock of eternity. Changing the
figure, we may use the words of John Howe:
"Look upon the fragments of that curious
sculpture which once adorned the palace of that
great king; the relics of common notions; the
* Pascal, " Thoughts," p. 422.




254         THE SOUL IN RUINS.
lively prints of some undefaced truth; the fait
ideas of things; the yet legible precepts that
relate to practice. Behold! with what accuracy the broken pieces show these to have
been engraven by the finger of God, and how
they now lie torn and scattered, one in this
dark corner, another in that, buried in heaps of
dirt and rubbish! There is not now a system,
an entire table of coherent truths to be found,
or a frame of holiness, but some shivered parcels. And if any, with great toil and labor,
apply themselves to draw out here one piece,
and there another, and set them together, they
serve rather to show how exquisite the divine
workmanship was in the original composition,
than for present use to the excellent purposes
for which the whole was first designed."@
The soul, in fact, is like a palace all in ruins.
Some of the pillars are fallen down and are broken, and others are standing erect as at the first.
The once beautiful arches have given way, and
the stones lie scattered all around. The basreliefs are defaced and full of holes. The decorated chambers are dingy, and the walls here
and there have fallen in. The ceiling is damp,
and the water dripping through, and descending
* "Living Temple," part ii, chap. iv.




THE SOUL IN RUINS.       255
to the floor. In the corners the mould has
gathered, and an unpleasant odor infests the
air. But there are some apartments mostly
free from decay, and statuary is found but little corroded by the tooth of time. In different
places, the hieroglyphics can still be deciphered,
and inscriptions in the primitive languages be
understood. It is very strange, too, that at
the entrance of this once noble edifice we meet
with two human-headed lions; evidently symbolizing strength, courage, and intellect. And
it has even been said that the name of the
architect has been found on a block in the
great hall, though covered over by a stone on
which was engraved the name of the original
monarch who inhabited the building. Indeed,
the whole fabric is a marvel; for some things
are preserved as it were intentionally, while
others are strewed around in great confusion.
We may very properly apply to the whole the
words of Layard: " The ruins were evidently
those of a palace of great extent and magnificence. From the size of the slabs and the
number of the figures, the walls, when entire
and painted, as they no doubt originally were,
must have been of considerable beauty, anu




256      NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL.
the dimensions of the chambers must have
added greatly to the general effect."
Contemplating man as thus ruined, it cannot
be an easy task to restore him. That preternatural aid is demanded for the restoration of
the human spirit, may be seen from analogy.
Consequently I here introduce some closing
thoughts from this source to show the utter
inefficiency of mere human power.
Here is a beautiful likeness of a friend, who
has been dead for many years. It is the only
one in existence; and consequently is prized
all the more on this account. In a moment,
however, it is broken into a thousand fragments. This creates deep sorrow; yet whatever the state of mind, there is no power to
restore-the likeness to its original condition.
Here is a house burning with great fury. No
one can quench the flames. They extend to
the neighboring buildings, causing them to take
fire. In course of time hundreds of noble
mansions are consumed to ashes. And all this,
too, with human power doing its best. What
a symbol this of the ruin of souls! The smallest spark from a fire may have begun the work
of destruction; yet small as the cause may be,
* "Nineveh and its Remains," vol. ii, p. 111.




NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL.    257
the result is fearful. Here is an ocean steamer
hastening to reach the port that is before it.
Six hundred human beings flre committed to
its care. In an instant the ship is all in a
blaze. Many are suffocated by the smoke;
many are burned to death; many are drowned.
And yet even this was caused by an accident.
There was no design to destroy the vessel, far
less the men who were in it. Still, even with
an accident, an evil was started which no one
could arrest. Hundreds perished; powerless
they died; neither wish nor will saved them.
So I may have power to shatter the image of
the Deity; I may be able to introduce a destructive principle into the soul'; and even by
accident or unconscious influence lead others
astray; yet I can neither stay the evil in
myself, nor in the men whose ruin I have
occasioned.
A wise man will not even think it safe to
trust to himself when the mortal part is diseased, but will call in the best medical help he
can find; surely, then, it must be the height
of folly to profess to be the independent physician of the immortal nature,-a nature made
in the image of God. Inasmuch as there are
many diseases of the body which set at defi



258      NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL.
ance all power of man or medicine, it is not at
all strange that there should be one disease of
the soul which baffles all the skill of human
philosophy. It is true that I may have power
to improve my spirit in many respects, just as
I have power to regain the health of my body
up to a certain limit; but this does not make
it certain that I can restore my fallen nature in
every one of its complicated and secret movements. I may so bridle my tongue that neither
swearing, slander, nor lying, shall ever be heard
by any mortal; yet, because I can do such
things, it follows not that I can destroy the
hidden evil of the heart. There is a consumption of the body which no man can cure; there
is a consumption of the soul more deadly in its
nature. It is quite clear that no man knows
certainly that he is able to stop the reign of
moral evil; for up to this time, no one is conscious of having done it.
Attention is now called to the fact of death.
All men die. All have died since the beginning of time. Why is this? Why does life
continue its movements up to a certain point,
and then cease?  Strange that no friend of
the race should have discovered a remedy for
this universal evil! It is quite likely that




NEED OF TlHE SUPERNATURAL.    259
many would not even confess to a defeat here,
unless compelled to it: yet the healers of souls
have to die like other men.  It is certain that
an element of decay is found in each human
body, which in a period of longer or shorter
duration compels the principle of life to yield
to its power. However much the two forces
may struggle for the mastery, there is the
dread certainty that the principle of death will
at last be victorious. Now, since this is the
condition of men as to their bodies, there is a
very strong probability that an element of evil
exists in their souls, and that this element of evil
will outwit the highest wisdom of the creatures
thus situated.  In the universal reign of death,
I see plainly the dark shadow of moral death;
and as no man can overcome the one, neither
is it reasonable to suppose that any can
overcome the other. If one cannot destroy the
lesser evil, most certainly he cannot destroy
the greater. It would appear, therefore, that
the principle of death in spirits must continue
to operate forever; for as the soul is made
in the image of the Eternal, even so through
ages measureless it must continue its flight;
yet with crippled wing and diseased heart ever
departing and ever descending farther and




260      NEED OF THE SUPERNATURAL.
farther from the perfect God.  Man can have
no more right to expect that the soul's life can
be renewed when it has been lost, than that he
can restore health or life to the body after he
has destroyed it by dissolute courses, or by his
wilful act. Reason concurs with Scripture,
that he may break the harmony of the divine
creation, but can not renew it; that he may
wander from God at his will, but can not return
when he may please, and needs supernatural
aid for the restoration of his spiritual life, no
less than for the commencement of existence,
or to call back a Lazarus from the grave."
* Thompson's " Christian Theism," p. 403.




CHAPTER V.
NEED OF REDEMPTION: THE SUPERNATURAL
REMEDY FOUIND.
IT is proposed in the present chapter to mention the different stages relating to the feeling
of need. That the topic may be as distinctly
marked as possible, I will begin where all is
hopeless and end where all is hopeful.
1. There are periods in the life of man when
no need of redemption is felt. Conscience has a
night; then it sleeps. Not meaning by this
that the sleep is sound and dreamless, for there
are manifestations to the contrary. At intervals during the night, conscience trembles,
groans, looks prophetically ahead. Then assuming a new position, it wants rest; is
still; is locked in slumber. Says Archbishop
Leighton: "The impenitent sinner is as one
buried in sleep: his soul is in darkness, fit for
sleep, and loves to be so. That he may sleep
the sounder, he shuts all the passages of light,
as enemies to his rest, and so, by close windows




262         NEED OF REDEMPTION.
and curtains, makes an artificial night to himself within: not a beam appears there, though
without the clear day of the gospel shines
round about him. The senses of his soul, as
we may call them, are all bound up, and are
not exercised to discern good and evil. And his
leading faculty, his understanding, is surcharged with sleepy vapors, that arise incessantly from the inferior part of his soul, his
perverse affections. Nor hath his mind any
other exercise, in his sleepy condition, than the
vain business of dreaming. His most refined
and wisest thoughts are but mere extravagancies from man's due end, and his greatest contentments nothing but golden dreams. Yet he
is serious in them, and no wonder; for who can
discern the folly of his own dream till he is
awake? He that dreams he eateth, when he
awakes, finds his soul empty, and not till then."*
The dead soul abides in a region of shadows,
somewhat similar to Plato's dark cave. The
real is not seen, but the unreal. Obligation is
scarcely felt. Good is not seen as good, nor
evil as evil. The individual who has sunk into
this state, wonders at the solicitude of other
men touching a way of recovery. He thinks
* Works, i, p. 456..




NEED OF REDEMPTION.       263
this to be nothing but the weakness of nature
and the consequence of a bad education. As
for himself he has not much trouble.   A
specious and external morality satisfies the
feeble demands of the soul. He is even proud
of his goodness; feels himself to be better than
many who exhibit the graces of piety. Thus
he is alive without the law; and redemption is
not needed.
2. A sense of want is generated by the
changeable events of life. There are but few
men who begin and end the period of their pilgrimage with the same feelings. Time is too
prolific of changes for that. One may be on
the pinnacle of honor to-day, receiving the
plaudits of an excited multitude; while tomorrow, he may be despised and cast down to
the dust. A man may ride in his chariot of
wealth at one time, with fictitious friends ready
to flatter and submissive menials ready to serve;
while at another, he may be forsaken of all.
Adversity and prosperity form distinct chapters in the life of mortals. The clear morning terminates in the cloudy noon: the evening
is dark and stormy. The soul has its seasons
as well as the year; summer does not reach
from the cradle to the grave. Sickness, be



264         NEED OF REDEMPTION.
reavement, and sorrow are the triple heritage
of man. Such things tend to bring the human
spirit to itself. There are hours when the soul
communes with its wants and its woes, and
when it heaves forth a sigh of which none takes
cognizance but God. Man has stopping places
along the path of life where he sits down,
thinks, and wishes for a good which he has not.
Most minds have a reaction. By the discipline
of life a certain feeling of need is brought out.
The feeble eye of the soul looks dimly around,
if perchance it. may light on that which can
satisfy the craving within.
I would not call this feeling of need, developed under the ministry of this world's
affairs, the true feeling. It is at best but the
voice of nature; and if it should happen to
fasten itself to redemption, this is done as conceiving that it might answer to fill the void of
the soul, rather than as the means to remove
its evil. There are many, it is true, who go no
further than this in their longing after redemption; they have no more than a nature-want;
and so they would chisel down redemption to
meet this, and thus destroy forever its identity
and significance. The great thing is to have a
spiritual need. Unless the point under consid



NEED OF REDEMPTION.       265
eration is well guarded, there is danger of
lapsing into mere sentimentalism.
3. The higher p]ilosophy tends to produce in
man a sense of want. The truth of this statement is quite apparent in the marked experience of Augustine. " A passage which he
suddenly came across in the Hortensius of
Cicero, treating of the worth and dignity of
philosophy, made a, strong impression on his
mind. The higher wants of his spiritual and
moral nature were in this way at once brought
clearly before him. The true and the good at
once filled his heart with an indescribable longing; he had presented to the inmost centre of
his soul a supreme good, which appeared to
him the only worthy object of human pursuit;
while, on the other hand, whatever had, until
now, occupied and pleased him, appeared but
as vanity. But the ungodly impulses were
still too strong in his fiery nature, to allow him
fo surrender himself wholly to the longing
which from this moment took possession of his
heart, and to withstand the charm of the vain
objects which he would fain despise and shun.
The conflict now began in his soul, which lasted
through eleven years of his life."  "During
this inward struggle, the acquaintance which
12




266         NEED OF REDEMPTION.
he had gained, by means of Latin translations,
with works relating to the Platonic and NewPlatonic philosophy, proved of great service to
him. I-e says himself, that they enkindled in
his mind an incredible ardor. They addressed
themselves to  his religious consciousness.
Nothing but a philosophy which addressed the
heart,-a philosophy which coincided with the
inward witness of a nature in man akin to the
divine,-a philosophy which, at the same time,
in its later form, contained so much that really
or seemingly harmonized with the Christian
truths implanted in his soul at an early age;
-nothing but such a philosophy could have
possessed such attractions for him in the then
tone of his mind.  Of great importance to him
did the study of this philosophy prove, as a
transition-point from scepticism to the clearly
developed consciousness of an undeniable
objective truth.""
Philosophy was also one of the agencies that
touched the soul of Neander.  "The Judaism
in which he had been brought up could not
satisfy him. H-e felt the need of a religious
life.  Tliat offered him only dead, cold forms
which had forgotten the truths and feelings
* Neander, Oh, Hist. vol ii. pp. 854, 855.




NEED OF REDEMPTION.      267
they once expressed. His classical studies
made him acquainted with Plato and he became
deeply interested in him. He found much in
him which harmonized with his own intense
nature. There is a reflective earnestness in
the strugglings of that noble mind after the
truth which stirred all the sympathies of the
young Jew.' Here was what he most painfully
missed in the formal religion of his fathers, and
he embraced the great philosopher as a friend
who had read his soul.  Plato is his idol and
his perpetual watchword. IIe pores over that
author night and day, and there are probably
few who receive him so completely into the very
sanctuary of the soul. But when the glow of
his first love had passed away, he found that
though Plato had read his wants, he had not
satisfied them. The Spirit of God had now
awakened within him a deeper want, which
philosophy has no means to supply."*
Philosophy has its place; but it never can
generate a true need of redemption. It may
prepare the mind in various ways for the Christian salvation; but it cannot lead man to accept of the divine Redeemer. Philosophy has
a tendency, if rightly studied, to make the
* Biblioth. Sacra, bl. viii, p. 886.




268         NEED OF REDEMPTION.
soul dissatisfied with the limited and the temporal; it can intensify those aspirations which
are oftentimes wandering hither and thither in
search of an infinite good; it can increase the
strife of the moral nature by the light which it
sheds there; and by the enlargement of spirit
which it creates, it can make man groan within
himself as one shut up in a prison: but it
never can snap asunder the chain, nor open
the door of liberty to the captive. The great
value of philosophy consists in this, that it
makes man see how utterly powerless it is to
do away with sin and misery. Its value is
thus more negative than positive.
4. The need of redemption is developed in
the truest manner by the divine law as applied
by the Divine Spirit. All sin is against law;
hence law is the true revealer of it, and the
true antecedent of salvation. The following
mental process may be noted: a. The law
makes a man feel his obligation. It was seen
under the first division that certain persons
felt no need of redemption, because moral responsibility-rested but lightly upon them. The
legitimate effect of law is the arousing of conscience, and the extending of the mental vision
in relation to good and evil. Man feels now




NEED OF REDEMPTION.       269
that he must act for the future; he feels also
that he has not acted in the past. The law
places the life and the character in a new light.
Man like a soldier who has been sleeping on
his watch is awaked by the word of command,
and begins to act, and that with more faithfulness, seeing he has been unfaithful. b. Though
the conscience prompts to right action, yet the
incessant demands of the law make the man
act wrong by stirring up the depravity of the
heart.  "The law is not sin, but it first renders
the sin of the carnal tendency, which was
dead and unconscious, actual, conscious sin,
and represents it as universally sinful; that is
to say, as worthy of death; and whilst it begets a knowledge of sin, at the same time
effecting a more active or passive satisfaction
in good, it can create a longing for redemption,
and testify of its future realization.""  The
thought before us is one of the marked features
in the Pauline development of sin as found in
the seventh chapter of Romans.-" Sin, taking
occasion by the commandment, wrought in me
all manner of concupiscence. For without the
law sin was dead."  Man though convinced of
his duty by his conscience, and though he may
* Nitzsch, " System of Christian Doct." p. 224.




270        NEED OF REDEMPTION:
attempt to do it, yet he is unwilling in his
heart; that rises up against the purity and requirernents of the law. c. The sinner now is
conscious of a schism in the soul. Aversion
to what is good becomes apparent. Two forces
are struggling the one with the other. The
evil always prevails. The man sees and feels
this. His heart sinks, and his soul trembles.
d. All hope of being saved by the law is now lost.
The former works in which the soul trusted are
swept away. They are rent in pieces like the
light sails of a ship in a hurricane. The soul is
tossed by the waves, with no prospect of reaching the land in safety. Self-righteousness is gone.
"By the deeds of the law no flesh shall be
justified."  A healthy conviction of sin is now
the result. The soul says, "I was alive without the law once: but when the commandment
came, sin revived and I died."  What can the
man do? He can do nothing but sin. He is lost
out and out. HI is driven almost to despair.
e. With the aid of the Spirit he longs earnestly
for redemption. He prays for help and pardon.
Ie would be saved from sin and its consequences.
5. The need of redemption as thus developed
leads the sinner to the Saviour. The understanding now is enlightened and satisfied; the




THE SUPERNATURAL REMEDY FOUND.  271
conscience is directed and quieted: the heart
is changed and made to centre upon God; the
will is liberated and set for holiness. I will
not say that every one who comes to Christ has
the very experience that has been mentioned
above. There are a vast variety of minds,
and a vast variety of modes. One is converted
in this way, and another in that. Tholuck
makes the following judicious statement:'According to the diversity of natural dispositions
will men be brought, at different periods, to a
sense of the value of such a faith. One passes
through the sharpest conflict at his first
awakening; another in the season of base lukewarmness, which so frequently follows the first
glow of love; a third is drawn to Jesus with
feelings and views not strongly defined, and
only after long intercourse with him learns to
know his own corruption, and to rely firmly on
the atonement, when -he has already tasted
somewhat of the Saviour's grace.  This latter
way God often chooses with minds of strong
powers, but whose depravity is proportionably
deep; who, if they had been made fully sensible of their own corruption before Christ had
been manifested to them, would have sunk
stupefied into the arms of despair.  For this




272         NEED OF REDEMPTION:
reason it is impossible to lay down any settled
modes of conversion: the spirit of God'bloweth where he listeth,' and as he listeth. Only
earthly things are to be determined by line and
measure; divine things are not contrary to, but
above our line and measure. One pilgrim travels
by the Isthmus of Suez: another goes through
the Red Sea and the wilderness; but both reach
the promised land."" It is supposed, however,
that each has a view of sin, and a view of law,
although the feelings with reference to these may
differ as to intensity. It is morally impossible to
accept of Christ while there is no consciousness
of guilt. Whether one is led to the Saviour by
the law or the gospel, by justice or mercy, or
by the combined force of all redemptive agencies,-the under-current of spiritual experience
is essentially the same. If one is converted in
a storm, another in a calm, and another he
knows not how,-the primal state of mind
which leads to Jesus must possess the same
inherent elements. There may be thousands
of extraneous circumstances connected with the
turning of souls, but the turning is one. There
is but one salvation and but one faith. The ignorant savage and wise philosopher, the little
* " Guido and Julius," p. 180.




THE SUPERNATURAL REMEDY FOUND.  273
child and man of a century, repent of sin in
the same way,-there is but one repentance.
Still, though this be all admitted, the man who
is brought to Christ by the ministry of law and
sovereignty, possessing the most exalted views
of God and his government, along with the
deepest self-abasement because of sin,-such
a man (other things being equal), must be the
strongest Christian. He has been born in a
bracing climate, and there is a tone to his health
not found in others. He who has not passed
through this kind of experience in the beginning of the new life, the sooner afterwards he
does pass through it the better. No character
is complete without a large infusion of the
judicial element.
6. The soul in its pressure and want having
found Christ, Christ is now the great animating
presence. Man needs to be stimulated and
lifted up. He needs a chief motive that is
divine, and an inspiration that is divine. The
cross with the God-man hanging thereon is the
power. Church history mentions a striking
incident connected with the life of Constantine.
He was about to commence a war; and being
at a loss to know to what deity he should apply
for help, he concluded to betake himself to
12'




274         NEED OF REDEMPTION.
the one Almighty God. Therefore, he applied,
praying that he would reveal himself to him,
and lend him the protection of his arm in the
approaching contest. While thus praying, a
short time after noon, he beheld, spread on the
face of the heavens, a glittering cross, and
above it the inscription:'By this conquer.'
The emperor and his whole army, now just
about to commence their march towards Italy,
were seized with awe. While Constantine was
still pondering the import of this sign, night
came on; and in a dream Christ appeared to
him with the same symbol which he had seen
in the heavens, and directed him to cause a
banner to be prepared after the same pattern,
and to use it as his protection against the power
of the enemy.    The emperor obeyed: he
caused to be made, after the pattern he had
seen, the resplendent banner of the cross."*
This was carried forward in the presence of his
soldiers as the inspiring symbol of victory.
So when one is about to commence the moral
battle of life, and is conscious of the need of
help, the cross will ever nerve him with a
power divine. The world has never seen such
heroes as the soldiers of Christ. Never before
* Neander, Ch. Hist. vol. ii, p. 7.




THE SUPERNATURAL REMEDY FOUND.   275
has there been such electric feeling, fixedness
of purpose, perseverance, as in the men of
Jesus. By this we conquer is the motto, watchword, and hope of the good.
Chateaubriand, in one of his fine descriptions, speaks of two soldiers who were so united
to each other by the bonds of friendship that
they fastened themselves together by a chain
on the field of battle, determined that their
fate should be the same.  One had fallen dead
beneath the arrow of a Cretan; the other,
though struck with a mortal wound, was still
alive, and reclining over his brother in arms.'Warrior,' cried he, in a faint, expiring voice,'thou hast fallen asleep after the fatigues of
the battle. Thine eyes shall open no more at
my call; but the chain of our friendship is not
broken, it still links me firmly to thy side.'
As he finished these words, the young Frank
fell exhausted, and died embracing -the body
of his friend.  Their beautiful locks intermingled as they fell, like the wavy flames of a
double fire expiring on the altar, like the
trembling rays of the constellation Gemini,
where it sinks into the sea.'"  Christ and the
Christian are fastened together.  In the midst
*' The Martyrs," book vi




276        NEED OF REDEMPTION.
of the conflict they will not be separated. The
stronger will animate the weaker: the weaker
will trust in the stronger. When the man of
earth falls, the Man of heaven will comfort his
spirit. Reclining on the bosom of Immanuel,
the dying saint and soldier ends life. Iis last
words are-" Thanks to God, who giveth us
the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."




CHAPTER VI.
MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD: THE PHILOSOPHY
OF THE SUPERNATURAL CURE.
ESTRANGEMENT from God is the most elementary characteristic of depravity. We therefore
commence with its analysis. By this means
we shall be the better able to understand the
nature of that change which must take place
in the existing character of the soul.
1. The first movement of estrangement from
God begins in a region back of consciousness. To
some persons this idea may seem to be absurd.
How, it may be asked, can there be such a thing
as unconscious sin? It only wants a little attention, however, to see that our statement must
be correct. Who can tell when he began to
sin? Can any one give a true and faithful account of that fatal moment in his spiritual
history when he took the first downward step
to ruin and wretchedness? No: memory knows
nothing about it; man knows nothing about it.
The whole world have sinned, and yet not




278      MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD.
one in the world can tell when first he sinned.
It is not that the ignorant are thus situated; the
wise are in the same condition. And this is not
merely the state of those now living upon the
earth, but the collective generations of time
have all been in darkness touching the first sin.
Whether any struggle took place during the
primal fall, no one can inform us. Whether
man saw the enemy and fought against him, or
sank down at once, without a sigh, without a
tear, is all unknown. Surely it is strange that
the most significant sin of the entire race should
commence in a sphere beyond consciousness.
A word falls without knowing it! Man having
begun in this way, it is quite likely that depravity will be mainly propagated in a stratum
of being beneath the plane of conscious apprehension. The first movement of every leading
fall of the soul is doubtless of an occult character. Each great fall is generic, and has connected with it a host of individual sins.. Many
of the individual sins may be known, but the
chief sin that makes certain all the others is to
a great extent unknown. Thus we have a
world of iniquity in the soul involved in complete mystery.
2 Estrangement from God is a state of mind.




MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD.     279
The miser loving his gold; the revengeful man
hating his enemy; the worldling eager to drink
every cup of human pleasure,-each has a specific state of mind characterized by the distinct
evil. So much has been said in modern times
about sin as an isolated act, that many have
lost sight of the important fact that sin is also
a permanent state. The main fault we find
with the atomic view of sin is, that it is too
superficial. No one will ever understand the
true nature of his depravity until he plunges
into the deep of the heart, and there discovers
fixed opposition to all that is good. All the
evil that a man does is but the result and outgrowth of the inward state.   Character is
chiefly found in this subjective condition of the
soul. If sin and holiness were merely volitions,
the man who had good volitions would be fitted
for heaven, even though his heart were in a
state of opposition to God and goodness. The
vain-glorious desire, the envious feeling, the
malicious thought, and spiritual indifference
would then count nothing. Such a view of
human sinfulness must be false. We are forced
to believe in a movement of the will that is
more profound and more comprehensive than
that which is seen in mere volitions. There is




280      MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD.
a great choice of all choices. The collective
depravity of the soul is encompassed and
carried forward by the far-reaching power of
the human will. It holds with the grasp of a
demon the spirit of man. The will digs a
channel for the pollution of the soul to flow in.
The current of evil sweeps on ceaselessly as
the hours, and fearfully as the march of death.
This great transcendental sweep of the will had
its commencement with the first sin of the individual.  Since that first fall it has not ceased
for a moment to act. It is all-embracing, constant, fixed. Yea, it is evermore increasing in
power. The depraved state is strengthened by
its own continued movement.
3. Estrangement from   God implies selfdependence. As we go back in our mind to the
sin of Adam, we see its dark advent in the
withdrawing of the finite from the Infinite.
Man holy had the most unshaken confidence in
the perfect God. Through the agency of a most
insinuating temptation he fell from the divine
sphere. The shock startled him; his eyes
were opened; God was gone. If one would
ascertain the true nature of his sin, he has only
to see that he does not depend in a spiritual
manner on the Independent. There may be a




MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD.      281
species of natural dependence, but this is destitute of holiness and love.  There may even
be an intellectual trusting, forced into existence
by the power of truth, but it is cold, cheerless,
unspiritual. The supernatural tie, which binds
all good souls to God, binds not man to his
Maker; it is snapped asunder; and now man
is living in a cycle of being which is small,
earthly, selfish. There is a loss of the consciousness of God. All good spirits abide in
the midst of the ever-beaming presence of the
Deity. They have a constant vision of God.
But when sin begins, Jehovah disappears; the
vision then is lost. Man now falls back on
himself; and, as he has no Supreme Being to
worship, he worships himself. Of course, it is
not necessary that each one should sing a psalm
and offer a prayer in order to deify self; the
outward life is a psalm, and the inward life a
prayer.  "All unbelief in the true God, and
his holy revelations, has ever some superstition
for its never failing reverse side, if it be only
the belief in the all-sufficiency of one's own
critical and sceptical understanding: the departure of the Divine principle of life, is
immediately connected with the arrival of a
principle in opposition to the Divine. Man




282      MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD.
cannot dethrone the true God without putting
an idol in his place."*  There is now the negation of all good. Alienation and love cannot
exist together. Even if we admit that there
are smothered sparks of goodness in the soul
of man, this can avail nothing so long as evil
has the ascendency. If the tendency to sin is
strong, constant, and increasing in its power, as
facts everywhere show, then, latent goodness is
only a pretty fancy, a kind of half-remembered
dream of heaven, a shred of the royal robe of
glory, a gem saved from the original catastrophe,
which, by the contrast, only shows how universal and hopeless is the spirit's ruin. Because
a monarch sinks in the depths of ocean with a
crown on his head, the loss is none the less.
4. Estrangement from God is from its nature
eternal; that is, left to itself, it must continue
forever. Only let sin have a beginning, and
that settles the matter for eternity. Let any
being sin but once, and there is no return. It
is a fundamental law of motion that a body set
agoing will roll on forever, unless something
come in its way to stop it.  So is it a fundamental law of sin that once begun it must contiaue, unless some extrinsic power interfere to
* uiiller, Doct. of Sin," vol. i, p. 133.




MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD.      283
arrest it. If we can believe the former, we
need not doubt the latter; for the physical
truth is not more certain than the moral. No
created being has lived forever to see either the
law of motion or the law of sin certified; yet,
there being sufficient evidence, the one may be
as firmly believed as the other. Certain facts
may be mentioned which seem to intimate that
sin will be eternal.
A large number of the angels sinned in
heaven. With their first sin they went down.
We know that these fallen powers existed at
the time of Christ; but no intimation is given
that even one had ceased to do evil, although a
period of at least four thousand years must have
passed away since their first departure from
God. Instead of ceasing to trample on the
divine law during any portion of this period,
they rather increased in their wickedness.
Their condition thus became more hopeless
during these four millenniums of rebellion.
Add to this, that these same vicious powers are
to continue their opposition to God throughout
the whole history of time, and we have a course
of sinning of vast extent. Beings who will
sin from the creation to the end of the world
will certainly sin forever. As far as we see




284      MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD.
the working of moral evil in this world, the
same principle is apparent. During the long
lives of the population before the flood, we
behold nothing but the increase of wickedness.
Men indeed became so bad that punishment
had to burst forth upon them. At the close of
the present dynasty, we are assured also that
countless throngs of sinning men will come
forth to be tried and condemned; thus making
it certain that they have not reformed during
their abode in the intermediate state.
Now, in seeking to discover a law for anything, we rest not short of uniformity. A
grain of wheat will produce nothing but wheat;
there is a uniformity here which never fails;
and therefore we doubt not in regard to it.
The planets have been careering through space
ever since their creation, attracted always to
one central sun; hence we see no reason to
doubt the law of gravitation. And, surely, it
is no more difficult to find the law of sin; for we
have a uniformity as unvaried as the attraction
of worlds. Seeing an apple fall from a tree
suggested the law of gravitation; and so unwavering was the confidence in this that in a
moment the law was applied to the whole of
matter. In the same way we notice the fact




MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD.     285
of sin in the realm of mind, and at once announce the law which must continue so long as
mind is left to its own native working.
It is worthy of attention also that the law
of sin is double; that is, it goes from mind to
mind, ever increasing in extent as well as in
duration. Moral evil is not an isolated force;
it cannot stay in the soul where first it began;
it must spread from its very nature.  To see
a sinner living in the government of God without casting a blight upon other minds would be
a moral wonder. To have no inclination to extend evil would be the highest proof that it
did not exist. There is always a will to extend, whether that can be successfully carried
out or not. This movement gives us the law
of sin with reference to space, while the other
gives us the law of sin with reference to time.
We thus have a growth in opposite directions.
And not only this, but *in the diffusion of sin
we have myriads upon myriads of distinct starting points from which it spreads out forever.
It is not as if one being were to act by itself
in eternal opposition to God, but millions are
warring against Heaven. This exceedingly
strengthens our argument for the endless nature
of sin. Not by the mouth of two or three wit.




286      MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD.
nesses do we seek to establish the point, but
by countless multitudes. And the testimony
of all these individuals is doubled by the
double law of sin before us. For while each
one will sin by himself forever, each will also
cast an evil influence over the other throughout
the same eternity. Extension and duration
are the warp and woof of sin. It is this
twofold view which discloses the vastness of
the evil that disturbs the universe of God.
How mighty the consequences of one sin! We
say one sin, for that reverses the whole working of mind. It is the one act that gives a
bent to the soul, that excludes all taste for
holiness, that leaves nothing but estrangement
from God. One solitary sin has in it the destinies of eternity. It utters a fearful prophecy
of the soul's downward way. Sin will torment
souls forever; it will trample on the divine law
forever; it will be the great anarchist of the
universe forever; it will defy God forever.
With this fourfold view of estrangement, it
is morally impossible for human nature to leap
out of itself into a new spiritual state. If sin
were a temporal evil, and not an eternal one,
all would be different. If it were like the
derangements of the solar system which, after




MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD.      287
a vast circle of ages, will pass away, bringing
the whole back to harmony, then, we might
say that a supernatural redemption is not
needed.  But this is not the case.  The derangements caused by sin in the moral system
of the universe do not resolve themselves ultimately into a scheme of eternal fitness and
order. Man without redemption must continue
in his course of evil. And no difference will
it make if God should forgive sin, as some say
he will, independently of the Christian remedy;
for even admitting that he is so good, or so
bad, as to forgive sin in this way, what still is
to be done with man, for he will increase in sin
forever?  The pardon of sin does not remove
the evil; and it is the removal of that which
is the great want of the case. If pardoning
all the criminals in the land would make them
sinless men, no more could be desired.  Here
is the'difficulty, and there is no use of shutting
the eyes against it. Surely if any thought is
of greater importance than another it is thishow shall I be delivered from sin? It is just
at this point where scepticism fails. After destroying every vestige of the supernatural, the
sceptic sits down with great joy on his countenance because of his boldness, not thinking




288      MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD.
that while he has taken away all, he has left
nothing in its place. Plainly there is no priestcraft about sin. This is a fact of the race entirely independent of revealed religion; and
the infidel must have courage to meet it. Tell
how it can be banished from the soul; state
the remedy in plain terms. If this cannot be
done, be willing at least to contemplate the
subject in a serious manner. To be indifferent
respecting a matter so great as this, is neither
wise nor manly; for the most profound intellects
of all ages have been exercised with reference
to this very problem.
If supernatural influence, then, is to change
the existing depravity of the soul, in what way
must it act? In what way must it begin?
There must be a certain mode. The remedy,
if it would be effectual, must be conditioned
somewhat by the nature of the disease. As
estrangement from God, therefore, is fourfold
in its nature, so reconciliation to God must be
fourfold also. The philosophy of restoration is
but the antithesis of man's departure from the
Deity. The nature of the disease shows what
must be the nature of the cure. In the way
that moral evil began in the soul, we have an




A SUPERNATURAL CHANGE EFFECTED.  289
intimation respecting the way that moral good
must begin.
First, then, as the initial movement of sin
in the race is back of consciousness, so the
initial movement of divine life must be also
back of consciousness. It is absolutely necessary that the supernatural should begin its
heavenly work in the dark region of the soul.
In no other way can the evil be reached; in
no other way can it be rooted out. That man
can do nothing here is plain. He cannot proceed to depths that are unfathomable. He can
neither rout the invisible enemy, nor storm the
invisible citadel. How is sin, then, ever to be
destroyed?.How is man ever to be made
holy? He is forced to turn his attention to a
Superior Power. The Spirit who knows human
nature and human sinfulness in their totality
can make his abode in that sphere which is out
of sight; and there with a love, all the greater
because it is not perceived, he can work at the
very foundation of depravity; resting not till
that foundation is undermined, the building
that was erected upon it overturned, and a new
one raised in its stead. The Restorer of souls
may thus work among the principles of our
depravity without at all infringing upon any




290      MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD:
of the laws of the mental nature. Yea, everything like undue pressure may be obviated all
the more by the very fact, that the Spiiit makes
no direct assault upon any of the faculties, but
is contented to touch the hidden springs that
lie far beneath; and thus, moving them, he
moves effectually the whole man. As sin has
fixed its habitation in the very interior of the
human spirit, I see not why God may not be
acting there with as much safety and efficiency
as among those powers whose ongoing is seen
by the eye of the soul. If he would change
the course of the wide and deep river, the most
reasonable method is to begin with the streams
that steal forth from the base of the mountain;
and changing them, a new channel is made for
the current to flow in. The rain which to-day
waters our fields may have received its first
movement earthward in the remotest region of
the clouds; and the wind which now sweeps
by us with all the force of a tempest may have
been started on its course a thousand miles
away; "'The wind bloweth where it listeth,
and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst
not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth:
so is every one that is born of the Spirit."
Whatever our theory may be, it is very certain




A SUPERNATURAL CHANGE EFFECTED.  291
that we know nothing directly of the Spirit as
he works in the souls of men. We are only
conscious of certain results. New emotions of
love and joy attract our attention; a new faith
exercised and a new life adopted make us to
see that a work of grace has commenced in the
heart.
Secondly, as estrangement from God is a
state of mind,-a state surrounded by a mighty
act of the will,-an act back of all individual
volitions,-so now this active state must be
changed, man must repent.  Here our method
harmonizes with the gospel method. The fundamental requirement that meets us in every
book of the New Testament is just this: " Repent ye, and be converted, th at your sins may
be blotted out." "' Except ye repent, ye shall
all likewise perish." To turn about with the
whole mind is what the Bible means by the
act of repentance.  There must be a great voluntary act, which comprehends within itself a
holy and fixed state of mind. The man who
confines transgression to mere volitions must,
if he be consistent, consider himself as sinless
during the interval that comes between the
volitions.  Sin in this way begins with every
new act: very much in the same way that a




292      MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD:
holy being sins for the first time. Repentance
according to this view would be nothing more
than a mere isolated choice, —a choice which
could have but little influence on the permanent character of the soul. A deeper and more
radical change must take place than this. Leave
man with his fixed state of mind, and it is impossible for him ever to reach holiness. The one voluntary act of sin, which encompasses the mind,
must lose itself in one soul-felt determination to
glorify God. When this is done, a vast number of subordinate purposes follow. A single
holy choice may succeed the great soul-choice,
but it cannot precede it. The lesser cannot
generate the greater; it is enough if the greater
move on to the production of the lesser.
It might seem as if we were swinging round
the soul from a perfect state of sin to a perfect
state of holiness, and yet this is not the case.
When the predominant choice of self gives way
to the predominant choice of God, it does not
follow that all sin instantly departs from the
soul. Iidden depravity still remains; and at
points here and there bursts forth into open
transgression. A purpose may be ultimate,
but not perfect; hence ignorance, inattention,
passions of' various kinds, outward temptations,




A SUPERNATURAL CHANGE EFFECTED. 293
may lead the soul into sin. Yet we imperatively demand that the change in man be
effected in his ruling disposition. It iA just
here that we see the weakness of mere natural
development.  There is no attempt made to
turn the great moral current of the soul. Indeed, it were utter folly to attempt anything
of this kind. The soul is pledged to sin by its
own supreme act. The act is complete and
total, leaving no balance of moral power to be
used for self-restoration.  How can the will
turn against itself when thus situated? The
captivity of the soul is voluntary; and consequently an all-embracing moral change is morally
impossible. We may say truly with Coleridge,
that there is a nature in the will.  The voluntary faculty acts for sin with all the certainty
and regularity of a law of nature. With this
view of the subject, there is a perfection of
wisdom manifested in the Christian method of
repentance.
Thirdly, we said that estrangement implies
self-dependence; therefore, if man would be
saved from sin, he must depend on the divine
Redeemer,-he must believe. This is the way
to bring man back again to God. As all sin
is anti-theistic, so there can be no divine life in




294      MAN ESTRANGED FROM GOD:
the soul without a filial connection with the
Divine Being. The lost confidence must be
restored. What is faith?   It is a heartfelt
acceptance of Christ; it is a soul-dependence on
the only Saviour. The entire human spirit
lays hold of Jesus. Faith is not an isolated
act of the mind. It is not the mere assent of
the understanding; not the simple outgoing of
the feelings; nor yet the individual movement
of the will: but it is the collective act of the
soul.  Faith is thus the highest, holiest,
grandest act of the spirit of man.  The entire
soul is conveyed over to Christ. The act of
faith is, in fact, just the counterpart of the act
of the atonement. The Redeemer yielded up
his entire being as a sacrifice for the salvation
of men, and so men yield up their entire being
to him in order to obtain this salvation.  Christ
gave himself to die: man gives himself to live.
The whole soul is thus an offering.  There is
nothing unreasonable in Christian faith; it is
the very perfection of reason.  The unreserved,
unconditional, and total surrender of the soul
to Christ, is a sublime act of devotion. There
is not a mere belief in testimony, as this is too
cold and impersonal; there is not a faith in
Jesus as.simply the' great teacher, the model




A SUPERNATURAL CHANGE EFFECTED.  295
man, the martyr, for these are but human
characteristics; but there is a soul-acceptance of the God-man.  There is but one Saviour, and but one committal of the whole man
to him for time and eternity.  In this way,
self-dependence is rooted out of the mind; and
a holy confidence in the world's Deliverer takes
its place. The Christian salvation thus restores
man to his normal condition.
Finally, as estrangement from God is eternal
in its nature, so reconciliation to God must be
eternal.  The gospel meets this demand.  The
rudiments of the higher life exist in the new
nature of the Christian.  The saintly man of
heaven is seen in miniature in the converted
man of earth.  Through the agency of truth,
providence, and grace, the supernatural germs
develop themselves; and thus the man in Christ
Jesus is made perfect.  The Christian redemption would be a failure if eternal and fixed
holiness were not its fruit. As souls, then,
are purified and perfected, we can ask no more.
Estrangement in its fourfold nature is destroyed
by a fourfold restoration, culminating in a life
endless and divine.  The ruins of the fall are
thus set aside. The condition of man primeval
is again reached. A new kingdom of saved




296   A SUPERNATURAL CHANGE EFFECTED.
souls is to begin its eternal march. An innumerable company of godlike men are even to
stand upon a higher platform than that of Adam
in Paradise, and are to work out a more glorious
destiny than he could attain to, because of their
connection with the redemptive powers and
forces of the Son of God. " Where sin abounded, grace has superabounded."




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CHAPTER I.
HINTS RESPECTING A NEBULOUS REGION IN TH,.
SOUL, AND ITS RELATION TO THE FUTURE
DEVELOPMENTS OF GOD.
ALL persons of a subjective tendency must
be conscious of a region of clouds in the soul
so strange and confused that all attempts at
distinct apprehension seem to be unavailing.
The most scrutinizing consciousness is only able
to note down the fact of such a dim realm of
being; the contents of the fact remaining out
of the reach of the orb of vision. This nebulous sphere is as yet an unexplored territory.
It is only seen in the dim distance, as one sees
a new land through the gray mists of the dawn.
Something is apprehended, but what that
something is no one can tell. Perhaps, at some
favorable moment, the attentive spectator may
imagine that he beholds a moving to and fro
like the shadows of clouds and birds in a lake,
but just so sure as he stops awhile, in order to
give form and distinctness to what he thinks
he sees, all is gone.




300   A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.
He who has watched the working of the
human mind along the path of history must
have noticed the feature of indistinctness that
we here refer to. The ancient mythology is a
most striking instance of it. Poetry is full
of it. In speculative philosophy we see it to
a greater or less extent; and at different periods
more than at others. The system of Plato
has much of its attraction from the divine darkness that here and there gathers about it. The
strange philosophies of the Orient could never
have had an existence save as they were the
outgrowth of vagueness mingled with a degree
of distinctness. What could Gnosticism have
done without its land of shadows?    The
Hindoo pantheism is but a bold attempt to
penetrate the unknown. And the modern pantheism of Germany only shows how the mind
struggles to give shape to the shapeless. In
the sphere of theology and religion we have
also the indistinct element. The mystics have
always felt at home here. Even in superstition there is something which finds a basis in
the gloom of souls.
That there is a dark zone in the mind of
man must be admitted by all. How to explain
it is not easy. A somewhat suggestive pscage
10




A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.  301
is found in Coleridge's article on the "Greek
Drama," which may be quoted: "The Greeks,"
he says, "idolized the finite, and therefore were
the masters of all grace, elegance, proportion,
fancy, dignity, majesty-of whatever, in short,
is capable of being definitely conveyed by defined
forms or thoughts: the moderns revere the infinite, and affect the indefinite as a vehicle of the
infinite;-hence their passions, their obscure
hopes and fears, their wandering through the
unknown, their grander moral feelings, their
more august conception of man as man, their
future rather than their past-in a word their
sublimity."*
As a preparatory thought, we may note the
unconscious knowledge that exists in the soul.
At first, it seems to be a contradiction to say
that the mind knows a thing, and yet is not
conscious of knowing it. It must, however,
be true. By the law of association a great
part of mental action is carried forward; yet
how very few of the links in the chain of
association are we conscious of. It is only
occasionally we notice one thing that has been
suggested by another; the greater part is never
consciously perceived. We are certain, how* Works, vol. iv, p. 29.




302   A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.
ever, that the mind itself must have perceived
the various links in the chain; for without such
an act of perception, the suggestive process
were impossible. There is flowing into the
soul a perpetual stream of knowledge, which
never comes within the range of either consciousness or memory. Sometimes the most
astonishing revelations of latent wealth will
dart forth while persons are in the midst of a
high fever or in a state of insanity, showing
that a power of mind has been at work in appropriating truth, secret and hidden in its nature. Even in sleep, persons have startled
others by communications of knowledge which
was not known to exist while awake. There
is good reason to think that an extended kingdom exists in the mind shrouded in darkness,
-greater even than the kingdom of light.
Sometimes there is an attempt to penetrate the
gloom. Nothing definite, however, is perceived.
A more powerful instrument might open up the
nebulous mass and resolve it into a glorious
system, but under the present mundane development this is not to be expected.
It is probable also that the cloudy state of
the soul arises, in part, from the infancy of the
soul itself. We have just begun to exist.  To




A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.  303
a child there must be a great deal that is wholly
indefinite. At first, nearly all is of this character. After a season, however, distinctness
and certainty extend their area. But how small
is the gain. Some things that are clear to the
man are dark to the child; while again there
are other things that.are dark to both. Looking
at man as an immortal being, he is now but an
infant. Cradled between the two eternities, his
head is almost hidden from view as it leans upon
a pillow of clouds; only the lower part is seen
to be skirted with the light that is everlasting.
Then, again, we must suppose that there are
germs and seeds of eternal ideas in the human
spirit. What man will be a thousand years
hence is shadowed forth in the mind. The
ideas that are just appearing are types of endless being. There are, no doubt, germs of
truth in the mind which we can only half see
by scraping away the soil that is about them;
and which will not appear above ground till the
spring-time of eternity draws near. There
may even be certain ideas of the soul which
have not yet dawned into conscious life, but
are struggling to do so; and as a consequence
of this, we think we hear certain whisperings
or see certain motions, but all is so doubtful




304    A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.
that we are compelled to let thQm go. Undiscovered thoughts must therefore form intangible
states of mind.
Generic longings mingling together tend also
to increase indistinctness in the soul. There
are mental wants that seem to be stretching out
their arms for help, away down at the very
bottom of being. There are requests of the
mind so far beneath the surface that they only
come up to our consciousness with the feeblest
echo. It is as if we heard a corpse crying for
help out of its coffin after it had been buried.
We put our ears to the grave and listen with
the closest attention, and think we hear something, but are not sure, and know not whether
to dig away the earth or not. There are many
desires which, singly, are clear and well-defined;
but when they mingle together, their identity
is lost. The desire for rest and peace, the
constant thirst for happiness and freedom, are
quite tangible when alone; but when they run
into each other, there is nothing but a vague
and general sense of want.
The element of doubt should also be noticed.
Although the human mind has been trying its
power upon a vast variety of subjects for well
nigh six thousand years, yet even to-day, with




A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.  305
reference to most things, we know nothing certain. Every science has connected with it an
unknown or doubtful territory far greater than
that which is occupied. All the doubts of the
mind by a law of affinity congregate together.
A confused mist-land is the result,-a region
of gloom, uncertainty, disappointment.  In
some minds this state of things is painful and
utterly overwhelming. John Foster, at one
stage of his development, writes thus: " At
some moments life, the world, mankind, religion
and eternity appear to me like one vast scene.
of tremendous confusion, stretching before me
far away, and closed in shades of the most
awful darkness;-a darkness which only the
most powerful splendors of Deity can illumine,
and which appears as if they never yet had
illumined it."*  Doubt will sometimes go so far
as to reject the truth itself.  Objections are
started without reason. Yet for all this, the
elemen.t of doubt in human nature is not without profound meaning. It has a basis in finite
mind as that stands connected with many of
the objects of its investigation. When carried
to a certain length, it is perfectly lawful; for
it enables one to "prove all things, and hold
fast that which is good."
* Life and Correspondence, vol. i, p. 34.




306   A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.
Another reason why a nebulous belt surrounds the soul is the fact that certain movements of Zmind cannot be expressed in 1aziman language. There is such a thing as " darkening counsel by words without knowledge."
"Mintthemetical truth, happily, has formed for
itself a language adequate to its purposes; a
language real, and which is liable to no ambiguity or variation; but then this is because
mathematical science is conversant with the
properties of matter and its relations; and
therefore the instrument of its conveyance,
being homogeneous, is sufficient.  But how far
otherwise is it when we have to do, either with
metaphysical abstractions, or with the heights,
and depths, and refinements, of the human passions and affections! On this ground how
does it want compass, nicety, power! Linguage well and truly conveys all those notions
that are its own creatures, or that are more
modified by it, than they modify the medium
of their expression. After having vulgarized
and enfeebled our conceptions and our sentiments, language then sufficiently represents and
recombines what it has first reduced to its own
level. Meanwhile every profoundly impassioned
and sensitive mind, and every mind accustomed
11




A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.  307
to hod language in obeyance, during its processes of analysis and abstraction, is painfully
conscious of the inferiority of any actual medium
of expression that is at its command. In the
recesses of the human soul there is a world of
thought, which, for the want of determinate
and fit symbols, never assumes any fixed form,
such as might beneficially constitute a part of
the intellectual and moral wealth of the species,
or even much augment the wisdom and virtue
of the man."Ideas of the future and the eternal have also
a degree of dimness surrounding them. The
fact that no one knows anything experimentally
of a coming existence makes the whole appear
like a vast milky-way along which pure spirits
may travel, but not men. No curtain is drawn
aside for a moment, in order to enable us to
gaze upon the eternal habitations of the good
and bad. There is a twilight around the soul;
and it can do no more than wonder and guess
and calculate. From this island-world of the
universe where we now are, men are rowed
across a dark sea till they reach the continent
of eternity; then they take either of two ways
as character designates, along which they travel
* Isaac Taylor, "Physical Theory of another Life," chap. viii.




308   A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.
in joy or sorrow, in noon or night, forever.
Now and then, fires seem to be lighted up on
the mountains of God, by the aid of whose
light the shores of eternity are seen, and
clouds of visitants waiting to receive the purified. Again we are in the midst of darkness,
when gradually a moon looks out from the edge
of the horizon, and sending its solitary light
athwart the waste of waters, we behold boatmen conveying the lost into eternal exile.
This is the way the humanfnind has acted in
by-gone ages. All the strange fancies of men
touching the viewless future show plainly
enough that there is a portion of the soul in
the midst of an eclipse.
As a further explanation of our theme, we
may notice the transcendental element of the
human spirit. Any system of philosophy
which attempts to set aside the transcendental
is false to the nature of mind. Mere empiricism will never satisfy. It is too cold and
tame. It lacks both bottom and top. It may
appear simple and reasonable, but it is unreasonable. Such rationalism is irrational. It
forgets the supernatural. It lives too exclusively with the finite. All that cannot be
measured, weighed, and squared, is put aside.




A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.  309
But man has the faculty of reason, as well as
the faculty of understanding; he has a priorz
conceptions, as well as logical deductions. It
is true that many of the so-called transcendentalists have with staff in hand walked straight
into night and nothing. This has exposed the
higher philosophy to ridicule. But yet if we
take the trouble, gold can be found as well as
dross, wheat as well as chaff. John and Paul
were urged forward by transcendental thoughts.
Hence their theology has things hard to be
understood.
Again, the soul instinctively clings to that
which is mysterious. A strange pleasure is
derived from that which is incomprehensible.
The mind is enlivened and educated by mysteries. In certain cases, the obscure affects
us more than the clear. The more we know
certain objects and persons, the less impression
do they make upon us. Too much familiarity
hinders powerful emotion.  A  speaker will
sometimes impress strangers, when he fails to
impress friends  Of course, this is not a
universal fact; yet it has meaning none the
less. Greater light respecting many things
would be no gain to us. Eternity, heaven and
hell, as described in the Bible, probably make




310   A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.
a more favorable impression on the mind than
they would do if more was revealed in regard
to them. Where our knowledge fails, faith and
humility are cultivated,-two characteristics of
prime importance. It is the mystery of the
trinity and the incarnation that feeds and fills
Christ-like souls. The idea of the Infinite is
sublime in its very darkness. The soul in view
of such an august Presence adores and wonders.
The Infinite is all around; and the finite like
some lonely star is burning dimly in ancient
skies. Self is reduced to a mere point; and
an ocean of being rolls away in all directions
in sublime mystery. As man looks and listens,
he can almost imagine that he hears the hallelujahs of God as they die away among the
eternal hills like the sound of distant seas.
With these few thoughts upon a very difficult subject, we may see how it is that a dark
province exists in the soul. To give an exhaustive explanation of the whole matter is
beyond our power. We therefore make no
further statements touching the point in hand,
but proceed to view it in its relation to the
future developments of God.
It must be admitted that the great end of
God is the manifestation of himself, and that




A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.  311
this manifestation must be eternally progressive.
It is no less a truth that man is to be a witness
of the divine manifestation, and that lie must
be eternallyprogressive in order to behold the
manifestation in all its fulness.  With such
thoughts relating to man and God, it is clear
that great changes will take place in the human
soul during the ages everlasting. Under the
future ministry of Jehovah, it is supposable
that the mind will have power to seize hold of
some of the higher principles of philosophy
and government, which now are not known;
and because not known, confusion and uncertainty are ever about us. Having gained such
fundamental principles, it will be comparatively
easy to arrive at safe conclusions. The whole
intellectual nature will doubtless experience a
wonderful revival, and what is now thought out
with great difficulty and with astonishing
slowness will then be brought to a conclusion
with great facility and quickness. Occasionally
in the present life we see rare feats of intellectual ability, which suggest what may be expected in the coming life. In men of genius
with their intellectual strides, there is found a
typology of the future. Under the favorable
circumstances of eternity, the mind may have




312   A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.
power to grasp sections and chapters of knowledge at once.   Sublime generalizations of
truth will be thrown off from the soul, implying the utmost familiarity with multitudes of
facts and principles. There will thus be a
better understanding of the divine system and
Divine Being.
It is not unreasonable to suppose that the
bodily orb of vision and the faculty of consciousness will have an equal extension. There
is a kingdom of being on the earth so minute
that the eye cannot reach it; there is another
kingdom beyond the earth of great magnitude,
yet because of its distance it cannot be seen;
there is only a small realm which can be perceived at one time. May not the celestial
body, then, be both microscopic and telsecopic?
may it not see the little and the large, the near
and the remote, with almost equal precision?
The immensity, grandeur, and variety of the
divine system, compel us to believe that the
individual made to behold this will not be
always under that law of limitation which
characterizes the present primary stage of existence. Indeed, instead of merely possessing
five senses, we may possess five hundred. It
is not at all likely that all the properties of




A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.  313
matter are now known to us. A change thus
so great without, might fitly symbolize the
change that will take place within. The circle
of consciousness, now so small, may then be
greatly extended..'Now we see through a
glass darkly; then face to face."
Add to this a similar awakening and strengthening of association and memory, and what a
vast prospect opens up before the soul! As
the laws of association are connected to a great
extent with matter, it is possible that the
future body may be so constituted that it will
send forth perpetual and manifold suggestions
to the mind, containing as it were an epitome
of the soul's wealth. We know also that
memory has a material side, for it is strong in
youth and feeble in old age; thus pointing out
the probability of great power in the future
when once the mind is united to a perfected
physical organism. What a vision that will be
when suggestion and memory combine together
to bring up the darkened past to the light, and
when the glance of consciousness shall take
in the greater part of the mind's action! It
will seem then as if a thousand souls were
brought together under the keen gaze of the
mental eye, and a thousand knowledges and
iL




314   A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.
experiences were dazzling and delighting the
one immortal.
It is probable also that man will pass through
various transitions in the future state. While
character and condition will be fixed-he that
is unjust will be unjust still, and he that is holy
will be holy still-this does not imply that
great changes will not occur during the history
of eternity. Even the glorified body may receive new power at the commencement of some
remote epoch of heaven,-power needed to
meet some new manifestation of God in
creation. Inasmuch as the present universe
had a beginning, and is necessarily finite, there
must be a period however distant when it shall
be fully comprehended by the soul; hence it
may pass away and give place to a new system,
thus calling for a change in the body to fit it
for the new materialism that surrounds it. At
such transitional moments, there may rise up
in the mind powers that have lain dormant
ever since the birth of the individual, special
use for them not having existed during the
whole of the past. There are certainly perfections in the Divine Mind respecting which
we have no conception, and there may be perfections in the human mind equally unknown;




A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.  315
yet at some predestined hour of the remotest
ages new revelations of God and man may
stream forth in perfect unity and fitness. The
manifestation of God throughout eternity is
to have stages, and each stage is to be higher
and brighter than the one that preceded it;
so also the soul is to pass through great epochs
of perfection, each epoch of perfection preparing the way for the one that is above it.
Herce we infer that the nebulosity of human
souls will, in a measure, be dispersed by the
light that is to shine along the centuries of
eternity. Yet we would have it noted that
while much of the present confusion and uncertainty will pass away, this will only be to
prepare the soul for the admission of new phenomena that will cloud and puzzle, if not to
the same extent as before, yet to a certain extent. Some things that cannot be understood
now will be understood hereafter; but, then
again, new mysteries will appear in eternity
which found no place in time. As the finite
can never comprehend the Infinite, there must
be heights which no one can scale, and depths
which no one can fathom.  There will be unsolved problems forever.  Faith, hope, and
love are three graces that will be needed as




316    A NEBULOUS REGION IN THE SOUL.
long as God lives and the soul lives.  Consequently, the truth demands that we say, that
there will always be a degree of twilight surrounding the creaturely spirit; yet it will be
ever changing in kind and extent as the years
of the future roll away.  "But the pleasure
is, I think, to humble people, in knowing that
the journey is endless, the treasure inexhaustible,-watching the cloud still march before
them with its summitless pillar, and being sure
that, to the end of time and to the length of
eternity, the mysteries of its infinity will still
open farther and farther, their dimness being
the sign and necessary adjunct of their inexhaustibleness." *
* Beauties of Ruskin, p. 426.




CHAPTER II
THE FINITE DISSATISFIED WITH LESS THAN THE
INFINITE.
THERE is a tendency in the soul which inclines it to go out to the Infinite. Even though
one may not have noticed the drift of his spirit
in this direction, and may be unable to state or
to comprehend an idea of this kind, yet by a
close observation of signs and circumstances he
may come to a knowledge of the truth. The
sight of lofty mountains whose summits are
lost in clouds, of a great sea on whose bosom
one sails for weeks with no land in view, of
serene and luminous space stretching far away,
suggest the idea of the Infinite. The rush and
long continuance of terrific storms, the flash of
the lightning and beat of the thunder, the sweep
of great rivers and water-falls, tend to make
one think of the Infinite. The measureless
nature of time and the magnitude of the
universe convey the same idea. I have even
thought that a dark, still. night with the occa



318        THE FINITE DISSATISFIED
sional appearance of a star in heaven, along
with the feeling of solitude that creeps over
the mind at such a time, naturally brings up
before the soul the idea of a great Being,
against whom none can prevail, and from whom
none can hide. When the mind is awed and
stilled by some great reality, and its hidden
depths touched and set in motion by some great
power, there is a manifest tendency then to that
which is unbounded. Music also is fitted to
awaken profound and inexpressible emotions in
the soul. The spirit all intensified thinks and
feels about that which is mysterious, divine,
and infinite. Music, though it has unwonted
power over the minds of men, yet is not a
human creation.  Its home is not the earth;
its native sphere is heaven, where it speaks in
the language of eternity to immortal beings.
Art and eloquence, too, in their purer manifestations, touch the passions of the soul, and prepare it for a flight to a higher realm. "So
surely is it the infinite itself that attracts and
charms us, that its highest manifestations do
not satisfy us until we have referred them to
their immortal source. The heart is insatiable,
because it aspires after the infinite. This sentiment, this need of the infinite, is at the foun



WITH LESS THAN THE INFINITE.  319
dation of the greatest passions, and the most
trifling desires. A sigh of the soul in the
presence of the starry heavens, the melancholy
attached to the passion of glory, to ambition, to
all the great emotions of the soul, express it
better without doubt, but they do not express
it more than the caprice and mobility of those
vulgar loves, wandering from object to object
in a perpetual circle of ardent desires, of poignant disquietudes, and mournful disenchantments."'
The reason why the soul is dissatisfied with
merely finite objects is because the image of the
Infinite is stamped upon it. The mind is a
godlike creation, and it cannot be at rest without God. The beast is satisfied with what it
finds upon the earth, for its nature aspires no
higher; but man has that within his breast
which links him to the Deity, and so he cannot
be contented without him. The soul is made
to know and love God, and when it neither
knows nor loves him it is unhappy. The faculties may be employed upon nature, but nature
without God does not satisfy. The life may
be directed with reference to self, but self
* Cousin, "The True, the Beautiful, and the Good," p. 11,
Edinburgh ed.




320        THE FINITE DISSATISFIED
without the All-sufficient is empty. When
nature, self, and God are all united there is
peace. "God hath suited every creature he
hath made with a convenient good to which it
tends, and in the obtainment of which it rests
and is satisfied. Natural bodies have all their
own natural place, whither, if not hindered, they
move incessantly till they be in it; and they
declare, by resting there, that they are (as I
may say) where they would be. Sensitive
creatures are carried to seek a sensitive good,
as agreeable to their rank in being, and, attaining that, aim no further. Now, in this is the
excellency of man, that he is made capable of a
communion with his Maker, and, because capable of it, is unsatisfied without it: the soul
being cut out (so to speak) to that largeness,
cannot be filled with less. Though he is fallen
from his right to that good, and from all right
desire of it, yet not from a capacity of it, no,
nor from a necessity of it, for the answering
and filling of his. capacity."  "Though the
heart once gone from God turns continually
further away from him, and moves not towards
him till it be renewed, yet, even in that wandering, it retains that natural relation to God,
as its centre, that it hath no true rest elsewhere,




WITH LESS THAN THE INFINITE.  321
nor can by any means find it. It is made for
him, and is therefore still restless till it meet
with him."*  The natural image of God in man
is eternal; hence the eternal misery of a soul
that finds him not. Archbishop Tillotson very
beautifully expresses the true idea of the
human soul. He says:     God hath wrought
the image of himself upon the mind of man,
and so woven it into the very frame of his
being, that, like Phidias' picture in Minerva's
shield, it can never totally be defaced, without
the ruin of human nature."  aanr being thus
made, he must be unhappy; his sinful life can
bring no peace.
Yet there is a great difference in souls as it
regards the feeling of dissatisfaction. Some
seem well nigh pleased with what they find
about them, and have but a feeble craving for a
good that is both divine and infinite. Such look
around for a Divinity, much in the same way
that children search for treasures they know
not the value of. Souls thus darkened and
degraded are but so many altars to an unknown
God. They are not unlike those whom the
Gnostics represent as having only a consciousiiess of the Archon, not being spiritual enough
* Leighton, Works, i, p. 261.
14*




322        THE FINITE DISSATISFIED
t) have communion with the Supreme. They
can think of a World-Ruler, a Power who helps
to fill a blank between themselves and the
absolute; but to do more than this is impossible. The divine consciousness is so weak and
clouded that there are only a few vague strugglings, and a few dim thoughts.
Vestiges of God in the soul of man tend also
to explain the fact that the finite is dissatisfied
with less than the Infinite. There is the ideal of a
perfect law, the ideal of a perfect life, and the
ideal of a perfect blessedness for the good hereafter. According to the fulness and finish of
these ideals, and according to the distance of
our departure from them, will be the torment
of the sinning spirit. The fact also that evil
is condemned, and the conviction that the
wicked should be punished, show that there
are both divine principles and divine motions
in the human soul. The vilest of men will
praise a self-sacrificing spirit, and the most
wicked parents will have a desire that their
children should be better than themselves.
But vestiges of God show themselves the
brightest in the souls of the good. Perhaps
there is no feeling that has so much of the
limitless and the divine about it as the feeling




WITH LESS THAN THE INFINITE.   323
of pure love. The glory of love is that it has
no bounds,-it runs out to the Infinite. Whoever, therefore, possesses this sublime feeling
cannot but be dissatisfied with that which is
merely finite. How natural it is also for the
pure mind to make choice of some great truth,
to hover about it, and to make efforts to rest
in it. The truth is supposed to look like the
divine reality; it is either a shadow or a type
of it; and so the spirit presses it to its bosom
as one does the likeness of a friend who is far
away. There are truths which never become
old to the good; such as love and redemption,
faith and hope, heaven and God. If each of
these be analyzed, it will be seen that the
limitless element runs through them all. Again,
righteous persons may be said to have a taste
for the divine. When a godlike action is performed, there is connected with it a peculiar
kind of sweetness and pleasure. This pleasure
does not spring up in the mind as the result
of every action that is performed. The peculiarity, I think, is here —the noble deed that is
done is divine; and the pleasure that follows
it has a character and a quality from the deed
itself, and so that is divine also. He who is
merely human knows nothing of divine joy.




324       THE FINITE DISSATISFIED
One must be a partaker of the divine nature
before he can exercise godlike emotion.  All
that pleasure which saintly men and women
have when meditating on divine things and
when holding communion with God is plainly
of a supernatural character. With such relics
of God in the souls of men it is not strange
that they should be dissatisfied with whatever
is fleeting and limited. In view of the finite
they pine away. For a divine good they
hunger. Without it they are weary and restless. Echoes of God sound through the soul.
Voices cry for the Infinite and the Good.
The tendency to change, so common among
men, shows that they are dissatisfied with the
temporal and the finite. They are hurried on
from object to object, thinking that what is not
found in one thing will be found in another.
If a treasure has been discovered to-day, the
interest awakened by it lasts but for a short
period; there is speedily a cry and a craving
for some new and different object. A child
will be delighted with some new playthings
which it has received from a father or a friend;
yet at the close of a few days or weeks, it will
turn from them with comparative indifference,
and will beg for some trifling toy which it sees




WITH LESS THAN THE INFINITE.  325
for the first time in a neighbor's house. Men
are but larger children; their valued objects
please not always. Dissatisfied are men with
all that is limited and imperfect, yet it is next
to impossible to drive them away from these;
infatuation bids them try again, that perhaps
to-morrow will reveal what to-day does not.
That some good is found is true, for the finite
fits certain parts of the finite; but God is the
complement of the soul at all points. The
body finds much on the earth; the soul finds
very little. Animal men live to a great extent
in the present; just as the beast has a now
during which all its wants are satisfied. When
man approaches the brute creation he thinks
only of the body; and that has no past or
future. Spiritual men look to a past which
has made them what they are; to a future that
may bless them with what they have not. But,
whatever the character and standing of human
beings, they never find that which most they
want so long as they look to the earth and to
the perishable about them. They may go here
and there, do this and that, as the moments
dictate and as circumstances call forth, but
there is no rest. There may be a superficial
quiet while going somewhere and doing some



326        THE FINITE DISSATISFIED
thing, but beneath the surface all is uneasy.
When man turns his face to the higher worlds
and to the Being that is everlasting, he begins
to have peace. When the soul has found its
centre, and around it ever moves and toward
it ever inclines, then it enters into rest.
c It is plain," remarks Bishop Butler, "that
there is a capacity in the nature of man, which
neither riches, nor honors, nor sensual gratifications, nor anything in this world can perfectly
fill up, or satisfy: there is a deeper and more
essential want, than any of these things can be
the supply of. Yet surely there is a possibility
of somewhat, which may fill up all our capacities of happiness; somewhat, in which our
souls may find rest; somewhat, which may be
to us that satisfactory good we are inquiring
after. But it cannot be anything which is valuable only as it tends to some further end.
Those therefore who have got this world so
much into their hearts, as not to be able to
consider happiness as consisting in anything
but property and possessions, which are only
valuable as the means to somewhat else, cannot
have the least glimpse of the subject before us;
which is the end, not the means; the thing
itself, not somewhat in order to it. But if you




WITH LESS THAN THE INFINITE.    327
can lay aside that general, confused, undeterminate notion of happiness, as consisting in
such possessions; and fix in your thoughts,
that it really can consist in nothing but in a
faculty's having its proper object; you will
clearly see, that in the coolest way of consideration, without either the heat of fanciful
enthusiasm, or the warmth of real devotion,
nothing is more certain, than that an infinite
Being may himself be, if he pleases, the supply to all the capacities of our nature."'
The states of mind which are called by such
names as mnelancholy, dejection, despondency,
despair, point to the fact that the soul is
unhinged and not right with God. It is true
that the condition of the body may have a
tendency to cloud the soul and make it sink
down in gloom and heaviness, but the whole
working of these states of mind cannot be explained by mere bodily ailments. After due
allowance has been made for physical causes,
there must yet be something back of them,
something spiritual, that will fully account for
such mental states. Apart from all materialistic influences, the mind is not satisfied with
itself, neither is it generally satisfied with the
* Sermon xiv. "Upon the Love of God."




328        THE FINITE DISSATISFIED
men and the circumstances that surround it;
and so it sinks into an eclipse,-is sad, cheer.
less, and dejected. The religious element, if it
exist at all, is not sufficiently powerful to overcome or to neutralize opposing forces.  The
tendency of the mind is to doubt. This in
fact is the central evil.  This isolates the soul;
turns away its face from the Deity; makes it
droop and turn pale as a plant cut off from the
light of the sun. The spirit shut up in darkness has dark thoughts; it broods in solitude;
preys upon itself; cannot believe with the
totality of the mind,-therefore cannot rest.
There is much unhappiness; there is positive
misery in the soul; and, what adds to it, hope
is like a dying taper. A person thus situated
will sometimes destroy himself; and suicide is
but the wild symbolism which shows that God
is gone and the soul is miserable.
Guilt also may be noted as showing how the
finite spirit cannot be satisfied while away from
the Divine Being.   The relation of man to
God has all its significance from the fact that
it is a moral relation.  The departure from
God which takes place when sin is committed
is a spiritual departure. Hence the turmoil of
conscience when guilt is burning there, points




WITH LESS THAN THE INFINITE.   329
out the great centre and source of mental
misery. The very nerve of dissatisfaction is
guilt. Indeed, man is oftentimes dissatisfied
with that which would otherwise please him,
because conscience is angry and condemning.
To satisfy a guilty man is by no means an easy
matter. Conscience may be stupefied, but not
satisfied. Sin is the selection of the finite
instead of the Infinite: such a selection never
can bring peace to the soul. It is absurd to
suppose that God would create man that he
might find rest and happiness in the utter
rejection of himself. The whole of our mental
uneasiness, therefore, springs from the fact of
sin in human nature,-sin against the Supreme
Being. "It is an oft-repeated fact, that unbelievers in the existence of a personal God, are
not able to rid themselves of the warning of
that law which God has written in their consciences; and may we not see in this a holy
arrangement, by which, when man has entirely
sundered the bond of communion with his
Maker, another bond should still remain by
which it may be possible, by awakening in him
the consciousness of inward variance with himself, to bring the wanderer back again to his
allegiance."* Doubtless the great schism of
* Miller, Doct. of Sin, vol. i, p. 101.




330        THE FINITE DISSATISFIED
the soul, by which it feels its misery, may be
a powerful instrumentality to lead it back to
God, in whom it may find its happiness. In
this way natural punishment may be made
the auxiliary of supernatural redemption. It
would seem to require less divine influence to
lead one back to God when he is deeply conscious of guilt and unhappiness than when he
is not. But, be this as it may, the terrible
fact of remorse sufficiently establishes the topic
we are considering. And this is all the more
clear when we notice the holy satisfaction of
that man whose life is devoted to the service
of his Maker. IHe who is united to God by
love has a peace and a joy of which the guiltstricken spirit knows nothing.
The feeling of anxiety is also very suggestive.
Whether anxiety be more common than care,
I know not. Among the young, neither feeling
is experienced to any great extent. Care,
solicitude, and anxiety are the heritage of men,
-men imperfect and sinful. "These terms express mental pain in different degrees; care less
than solicitude, and this less than anxiety.
Care consists of thought and feeling; solicitude
and anxiety of feeling only. Care respects the
past, present, and future: solicitude and anx



WITH LESS THAN THE INFINITE.  331
iety regard the present and future. We are
careful about the means; solicitous and anxious
about the end; we are solicitous to obtain a
good; we are anxious to avoid an evil.""  There
must be a kind of twilight about the soul which
renders objects somewhat indistinct; so that
the mind bends forward with a certain uneasy
feeling, not knowing what is beyond it. As
the matter is thought over, evil is imagined;
it being more natural to imagine evil than good
inasmuch as the soul is sinful. Having fastened
upon the evil, the mind is pained and perplexed.  There is no sure footing; hence the
troubled spirit wanders about in a state of
anxiety. It can easily be seen from this that
man is separated from  God; and that not
till faith unites the two together and hope
illumines the future can there be peace. To a
pure mind there can be no real anxiety. There
may be a profound sense of responsibility when
some great task is assumed; but painful anxiety as to any results is not to be allowed,that were to betray a spirit of unbelief. The
soul of Jesus was greatly agitated was shakng
by reason of a great sorrow; but yet I cannot
think that corroding care disturbed his spirit,
* Crabb's English Synonymes, p. 425.




332        THE FINITE DISSATISFIED
or blighting anxiety withered his heart. The
Redeemer was not only sinless, but he was
divine; his future therefore was not uncertain;
his sufferings and death stood before him as a
present reality. It was this fact that struck
his soul, and this that threw a loneliness about
his being.
Fear is another element of human nature
which forcibly illustrates our proposition. This
perhaps is the most striking of anything yet
mentioned.  Fear, although it be not the
highest characteristic of mind, is yet, for this
very reason, the better fitted to attract attention and to produce conviction. Just witness
multitudes in time of a thunder-storm. Completely careless when all is still about them,
they tremble when danger is apprehended: by
a kind of instinct they flee to God. Simple
nature, conscious of its peril, compels a prayer
to ascend to the Almighty. The same thing
is seen during a storm at sea. Let wild waves
break over the vessel-instantly the shrieks
of the fearful are heard bearing aloft a prayer
to the ear of God.   At such a time, there
is but one object that man hastens to; that
one object is God. See others when dying.
They realize that they are about to enter the




WITH LESS THAN THE INFINITE.  333
region of the unknown. A solitude which they
never experienced before marks them off by
themselves. They are alone in the valley of
death. A dire eternity is just at hand, and
they fear exceedingly. They remember that
God is just. A prayer leaps out of the soul.
As the affrighted dog howls instinctively, so
man struck with terror cries to God. The sentiment of David is true even here: "What
time I am afraid, I will trust in thee."
Now, we do not want a more forcible proof
that the finite is dissatisfied with less than the
Infinite than we find in the simple working of
fear. Why should the soul so quickly and so
anxiously go up to the one God? Why to
God?   Let this be answered. It should be
carefully noted that the soul is stripped of
everything like art when it speaks through
fear. Fear is the most elementary expression
of human helplessness. The argument from
this source is therefore all the more powerful.
We see just how the soul acts from the naked
stand-point of nature. False opinion nourished
by pride may drag the human spirit away from
God; but only let fear arise, and in a moment
the divine refuge is the one that is thought of.
The soul will have God even though it does not




334       THE FINITE DISSATISFIED
want to have him. The constitutional nature,
of which God is the author, compels the soul
to look upward in spite of the developed nature,
of which man is the author. On this account,
we often see the same person entirely different
under different circumstances.
Quite an array of testimony might be here
introduced from the last hours of sceptics, but
we satisfy ourselves with a single reference.
"I have always considered the death of Hume
as described by Adam Smith, Dr. Black and
others, to be a scene of the most flimsy hypocrisy to be found on record. It is obvious that
Hume's friends, like those of Voltaire, were
anxious that he should evince no sign of misgiving or fear, and should persist in his infidelity
to the last. But both he and they over acted
so far in the matter, as to betray themselves.
They tell us of his great composure; of his
utter unconcern as he sat with them at the
card-table, knowing himself to be on the brink
of the grave; how he could repeat the silly
jests which he might have with Charon, the
boatman sent according to the fables of Paganism, to carry the dead across the river which
was said to divide this world from the world of
spirits."  Pitiful gossamer covering of what




WITH LESS THAN THE INFINITE.  335
was going on in the breast of the dying man!
Fallen as poor human nature is, she is not so
far sunk as this; she is neither so blinded or
hardened. She has sympathies that tell of
something better, was it merely friend parting
with friend, for a period they know not how
long, and to encounter they know not what."*
The utter unreasonableness of the whole scene
and the art manifest in it show that the spirit
of the sceptical philosopher was not easy. He
needed God more than he was willing to confess. A joke on a death-bed is proof positive
that the soul fears the Deity. Men only laugh
at death when they would hush the tumult
within. Many an unbeliever believes while he
does not want to believe. And this makes the
proof all the stronger for our important theme.
It shows that no specious opinions can avail
to cheat the soul out of its God when the great
sifting moment comes.
Man trying to live without God is like the
ivy without any support to which it may cling.
Tall and slender it grows; the rough winds
blow it to and fro; it is laid prostrate in the
dust.  Only let its tendrils fasten upon some
tree, and it will entwine itself gracefully around
* Dr. Mathews, "Bible and Men of Learning," p. 178.




336       THE FINITE DISSATISFIED.
it, growing higher and higher. Then though
the fierce tempests beat against it, it bends not
over; for it has an abiding support. Let the
frail spirit of man in the same way find the
great God, and all is well  Let the soul cling
to Jehovah, entwining itself sacredly around
him, going higher and higher forever, and all
is complete; for the two were never designed
to be apart, but to be together throughout
eternity.




CHAPTER       III.
TIHE SOUL A PRAYER WHOSE ANSWER IS GOD.
MAN cannot be understood without God.
Possibly God cannot be understood without
man. The two natures may point to each
other. It is certain, at any rate, that the soul
articulates a language which shows a divine
origin. That the language is not full and finished, we admit. There are many breaks in it;
and without close attention it cannot be understood.
When God made the soul he made it to turn
instinctively toward himself. Hence all created
spirits are so many distinct prayers, and God
is their answer. The fact of sin does not
destroy this native movement of the soul. The
atheist and the demon have divine requests.
He who derides prayer, because of its supposed
opposition to the plan of an unchangeable God,
prays in his deepest soul to the same unchangeable Being. There is a native necessity about
such prayer; it may be called constitutional.
15




338         THE SOUL A PRAYER
The will may modify it somewhat, but never
can render it an impossible characteristic of the
soul.  Of course, there is no holy yearning of
heart; no religious craving for God. It should
be understood also that the thirst of the soul
is not so definite as the thirst of the body. It
shows itself in an indirect way; as when
one has a feeling of uneasiness.  This uneasy
state makes man try ten thousand things in
order to furnish satisfaction. It also manifests
itself in that expressive phrase-a sense of
want. The soul looks about for that which will
fill it. Nothing is found. God alone can meet
the craving within. There is another feelingthe consciousness of vacancy.  All is vain,
empty, worthless. Then, again, a man does not
know what to do with himself. Everything is
wrong; nothing pleases; he is sick at heart.
These explain the thought that the soul is
a prayer. Frequently the restless spirit is like
a man in the water half-dead trying to swim,
putting forth efforts unconsciously, aiming to
reach somewhat, with a dim sense of wanting to
live; and an instinctive movement in that direction. There are mental forces and feelings, tastes
and tendencies, which often pass unobserved,
and thus count nothing; while to the atten



WHOSE ANSWER IS GOD.       339
tive mind, marking their appearance and comprehending their import, they count a great deal.
Who does not see, for instance, that the
sense of insecurity and change is an intimation
that the soul needs an all-sufficient God? I no
sooner begin to think of my nature and condition than I begin to realize my weakness. I
see all around me beings like myself, filling a
space, occupying a time, then vanishing away;
and as I keep gazing on this ever-shifting panorama of mortals, the feeling is deepened that
the whole of mankind are in the hand of some
unseen Agent, who is acting with a power all
his own, and which power he manifests or conceals as to him seems best.  The more exact
and truthful my contemplations become, the
more painful is my sense of insecurity. I am
compelled to look around for some stable foundation. The idea of cause also is never truly
satisfied till the First Cause is reached.  The
mechanism and motion of the universe are
traced to a Supreme Maker and Mover. In
fact, a final cause is as necessary as a first.
The mind is restless till it finds the chief reason.
Fate, with all its darkness and fixedness,
shows that men reach out to find the Eternal.
What a powerful influence has the idea of des



340         THE SOUL A PRAYER
tiny had upon the development of nations and
men! Great characters have generally been
inspired by it. They felt that they had a specific work to do, a goal to reach, a prize to win;
and so they pressed forward. Then the conceptions of an eternal plan and an infinite Providence have steadied the mind. Sovereignty
has generated submission, and submission,
peace. A sense of nothingness has ended in
finding him who is all and in all. Hope has
arisen, which like'a divine star has conducted
the spirit to its God.
The whole realm of being is but a descending scale from the Absolute One; and all parts
look upward. Each department of being is
standing as it were on tip-toe, endeavoring to
reach that which is above it. Each order is
typical. The lower is a prophecy of the higher,
and the higher is a prophecy of the highest.
The whole kingdom of creaturely existence is
but one great prayer ever ascending to God.
Sin, of course, has broken up the harmony of
the prayer; but yet with all its discords and
deficiencies it still goes up to the Supreme.
"All lower natures," says Coleridge, " find their
highest good in semblances and seekings of
that which is higher and better. All things




WHOSE ANSWER IS GOD.       341
strive to ascend, and ascend in their striving.
And shall man alone stoop? Shall his pursuits
and desires, the reflections of his inward life,
be like the reflected image of a tree on the
edge of a pool, that grows downward, and
seeks a mock heaven in the unstable element
beneath it, in neighborhood with the slim waterweeds and oozy bottom-grass that are yet better than itself and more noble, in as far as substances that appear as shadows are preferable
to shadows mistaken for substance? No! it
must be a higher good to make you happy."
God loved with all the heart would make the
prayer complete.  Still, though love be not
universal, the native speech of all souls shall
ever be-" Our Father which art in heaven."
Indeed, wherever I behold the movements
of men, I can see hints and manifestations of
a substrate feeling that points to God. It
really matters not what may be the object of
pursuit or what the course of life, there is
everywhere and in everything a symptom which
intimates that God is needed. In all the excitements and rush of business which so
characterize the present, I am compelled to
believe that souls in their deeper nature have
* Works, vol. i. p. 181.




342         THE SOUL A PRAYER
a hungering for the divine; and that the busy
speculations, the eager industries, are only
indirect and abnormal methods of revealing
this strange fact. Unconscious though men
oftentimes are of any drift of the spirit towards
God, yet the active or indolent life, the restless days and nights, proclaim that an impulse
of a lofty kind moves the soul as the breath ot
God the spheres; and that even the external
and surface workings, though dark and undivine,
yet, when viewed as manifestations of an
immortal being, they suggest something higher
than what could literally be inferred from them.
Gambling, for instance, though it may seem to
speak simply of amusement or the prize, does
more; it shows quite distinctly that here are
beings uneasy, because the good for which they
were made has not yet been found. The appetite for wealth, which keeps pace with the
march of civilization, and which makes men
willing to encounter any difficulty to satisfy it,
is but the rough herald of a purer appetite,
which never can be satisfied with anything
short of the Supreme Good. If men did not
want God, they would not so eagerly want
money. The very greed of covetousness only
shows how pressed the soul is without God.




WHOSE ANSWER IS GOD.        343
There is a famine within, and a painful, gnawing hunger; and so men wildly seize hold of
anything that will seem to satisfy.  The miser
perishing in the midst of plenty, is but the
symbol of a godless spirit starving to death
while surrounded by divine treasures.
"God has so inwoven, in the inmost texture
of our nature, the title and testimonies of the
immortal state for which he made us, that,
mingled with the perishable elements of earth,
it is, even now, forever around us; it rises in
all our dreams, it colors all our thoughts, it
haunts us with longings we cannot repel; in
our very vices it reveals itself, for they cannot
charm us till they have more or less counterfeited it."  " Our miseries are still the sublime
discontent of a being too mighty for the perishable world he dwells in; a deathless spirit
is impatient for its native eternity. Yes, the
heir of immortality is far from the Father's
bosom, by what mysterious doom it skills not
to say; suffice it, he awakes to breathe a hostile
air, he is born in the enemy's country, and
amid the camp of the prince of darkness."
"There are aspirations turned astray, that,
even in their distortion, attest their origin and
purpose. There are warped, and crippled, and




344          THE SOUL A PRAYER
polluted hopes, that, even from their dungeon
of flesh, still cry for heaven. There are desires
that, cursed with the frenzy of sin, run mad
through the thronged and heated highways of
the world,-yea, that are evolved in all the
hideous forms of vice, and intemperance, and
blood. But vice itself is not objectless; this
insanity is superinduced upon sound faculties;
these fires are the fires of conflagration and
ruin, but they do not less than others point to
the skies."
Why is there such a perpetual struggle for
office and honor? Is it not clear that men
have fallen from a noble height, and that the
strife to reach an earthly elevation but shows
the wayward course of mind as its needs and
miseries hurry it along.  Even pride, that
great generic sin which begins the soonest and
dies the latest, has somewhat of the golden
dust of heaven's pavement clinging to it.
Pride tells prophetically of a past when God
was all, and man walked with him in peace.
It now shows an eyeless, wingless spirit centering its aims on self, while yet there is a
latent inkling for the eternal light and the
worlds beyond. How much of divine as well
* Prof. Butler, Sermons, vol. i, p. 283.




WHOSE ANSWER IS GOD.       345
as human meaning there is in the perpetual
discontent of mortals! The soul never balanced and quieted; never free from a depraved
nature; never, for once, beholding perfection.
Then the feeling of envy: how suggestive that is 1
The soul wounded, because defeated; wounding
others, because they are successful. This intimates that the human spirit was originally designed for a higher world, and for a higher place
than is found here. The monarch's son who has
wandered from home and from virtue is enraged
when his companions are honored, and he is not.
Few things so vex the soul as contrasts; and the
greater these are, the greater the uneasiness.
Give man a dead level, and he would be quiet.
But this is impossible. The eternal and the
infinite cannot be struck out of his nature.
Thoughts of the divine have no death.
How numerous the victims of impatience,
fretfulness, jealousy! How much of self-will
and wounded pride! These point downward,
and upward too. Even in malice, revenge, and
dark misanthropy, one beholds a shattered soul
wildly proclaiming the need of a God. Deliberate falsehood, plans laid to defraud, preparatory measures to kill, teach the same lesson.
Then, too, the strange feeling of self-contempt,




346         THE SOUL A PRAYER
how full of significance that is! Not merely
does the soul condemn itself, but it despises
itself. How could this be possible, unless there
was an inward divine tendency?  Being sick
of self, sometimes ends with a feeling of contempt for the whole surrounding population.
All is wrong; life is a burden; death is a terror. With such experiences, the troubled mind,
as in sleep, turns itself over towards God;
praying without knowing it, praying as in a
dream.- Rays from the fountain of eternity
glimmer in the soul, pointing to an ultimate
way never yet followed, never yet loved. Living thus, man frequently makes haste to lose
himself in the companies and amusements of
time. Speedily he becomes conscious again of
wishes and wants, of sighs and miseries, —of
eternal thirst and restlessness: the first, which
nothing quenches; the second, nothing quiets.
On a larger scale, we have riots and wars,
thousands wounded and slain; as if the thirst
of men and nations could only be quenched
with blood. Indeed, I cannot but think that
the whole working of sin is but a fearful picture of beings wanting God at the very moment
they are striving to live without him.
Besides, whatever men may do there is a




WHOSE ANSWER IS GOD.       347
sense of weariness. Even the good have this.
I do not refer, of course, to any weariness of
body, but to a weariness of soul; as if one's
spirit felt that it had been battling with evil
during the whole of its existence, that it was
struck many a time with sharp cutting blows,
and that now it is tired, and longs for a day
of deliverance, a sabbath of rest. The present
scene of being is so hemmed around with difficulty and discouragement, there is such a
downward tendency in souls, making it so hard
to lift them up, that the man who has any good
in him sighs amidst the ruins of time, and
pants for a world where all is right, and for a
God who shall meet the most pressing wants
of the soul. All those feelings that we usually
express by such words as languor, listlessness,
insipidity, disgust, are full of meaning. Then,
also, the feeling of loneliness, a hidden sorrow,
a burden upon the heart, a reaching forth
for that which will satisfy,-are but different
parts of the shadow of a stray spirit that is
feeling blindly around for God. Living in a
strange land, man is not well. "The soul is
always bursting its limits.  It thirsts continually for wider knowledge. It rushes forward to untried happiness. It has deep wants,




348         THE SOUL A PRAYER
which nothing limited can appease. Its true
element and end is an unbounded good."y
Even if we simply find pleasure in that which
resembles the Deity, that fact is expressive of
tendency towards him.   Those who would
know nature without knowing God are constrained to love truth; and not only this, the
very excitement that impels them to seek for it
is a witness for him who is the Truth.
So, too, when I see men aiming to live a
moral life; aiming to be merciful as well as
just; making efforts to bless the poor, the
drunkard, the prisoner, the freedman,-it is
very certain that while thus acting the troubled
mind finds a degree of rest. All the selfdenial put forth to overcome some vicious habit,
or to benefit near or distant people, has pleasure
connected with it; and partly satisfies the ideal
of the mind. The feeling of shame when one
is detected in wrong; of remorse at the close
of sin; of faith in the immutability of the right;
of confidence in the ultimate success of the
true and the good,-suggests the idea of a
Godward drift of the soul. Why is it that
men are so anxious to stand right in the eye
of the divine law? Why the various inventions
* Dr. Channing, Works, vol. iii, p. 238.




WHOSE ANSWER IS GOD.       349
of guilt to pacify the Divine Being? Why the
universal worship of the race, and the great
universal prayer? The essential answer is that
which constitutes the theme of the present
chapter.
As bearing upon our subject, we have another
thought. How is it that in all the church centuries Christianity, as a system, has been
upheld by unconverted men? Religion has been
defended by argument when it was assailed,
and the church supported by money when it
was in want. Men of no piety have attended
upon Christian ordinances. The most pungent
application of truth they have approved; and,
although they felt condemned, they would not
venture to condemn the utterances that harmonize with the will of God. It would seem
almost as if, at times, the more clearly their
sins were revealed, the better were they
pleased; and when guilt was allowed no shelter
and wickedness no excuse, their satisfaction at
such a moment was well nigh complete. I
do not know but that with such allies, we
might have a Christianity without Christians,
a church without members,-unregenerate warriors standing around the temple of God as a
wall of defence; while, within, the light of




350         THE SOUL A PRAYER
heaven does not shine and the saint of God
does not worship; the formal priest alone is at
the altar and the word of life before him, but
heaven is shut. This current of unsanctified
mind is strange; to catch its philosophy is not
easy. But does it not seem as if the fugitive
spirit had certain broken fastenings of the
divine to which it must cling, and that even in
its wanderings it has a degree of comfort from
the thought that there is a guide-post that
points to the kingdom of life, and that it was
placed where it is by the Creator himself? Do
not unchristian men uphold Christianity because
it rests upon the divine, and because they feel
that without that they are lost? And yet
they may be lost any way; for the peculiarity
of the feeling is, that the divine is both
received and rejected. Men will stand with
awe before the shadow of God, but God they
will not love. His worship they will attend,
but his name they will not adore. They want
God, and yet they do not want him. Perhaps
the antagonism here makes the evidence all the
stronger, for the fact that the divine can live
in the midst of conflict shows that it has a
substantial grounding in human nature. Considering the tremendous power of a sinful




WHOSE ANSWER IS GOD.       351
heart, how tenacious of life must the prayer
for God be! No fire of depravity can consume it, and no poison of evil ever put it to
death.
But our topic is only fully realized in the
soul of the good. The inner life of the Christian is a prayer. The shrinking from sin, the
desire to be holy, the endeavor to glorify God,
convey that thought. Love is prayer. Being
born of God, the soul positively and sacredly
has a divine tendency. The longing of Christlike souls is altogether different from that of
the mere child of nature. It is not only different in degree, but in kind. No natural man
could say, "As the hart panteth after the
water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O
God."  The saved man of heaven is the model
of our subject. The purified and perfected
soul will be an eternal prayer, finding its constant answer in the eternal God. All the constitutional wants shall be consecrated, directed,
and made to centre upon their infinite Object.




CHAPTER IV.
GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.
WE began this treatise with God descenumng
to man: we close it with man ascending to
God. The word home, which we connect with
the last chapter, seems appropriate. It is the
end and culmination of mind,-the upshot of
the soul is God. There is danger of contemplating home from a merely human point of
view. It is the most interesting centre of our
earthly life. Our tenderest feelings cluster
around it. Joy and grief are awakened in the
soul by its continued or sundered companionships. There is a peculiar pleasure in the
words-" I am going home." More especially
is this true of him who has mingled for years
with a remote and strange people, but who now
turns his face to.the scenes of his childhood.
Some of the occupants of his early abode he
may not find, yet the place is full of hallowed
associations. Even the grave-yard where the
departed sleep is consecrated. Both the be



GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.    353
ginning and the end of life speak of home.
There is danger, therefore, that the specific
earthly meaning of the word may blind us. It
is well to guard against this. When we speak
of the home of a soul, the idea seems strange;
yet it is really the true idea. The home on
earth is but a type of that which is above and
beyond it. Its design is to school the fallen
spirit, that with lofty intuition it may seek an
eternal home with God. In fact, there is but
one home, and that is enduring, divine, selfsatisfying. One may have his well-arranged
house, his pleasant grounds surrounding it, his
little family within it; but yet he is not at
rest,-the soul has not found its home. The
most perfect home of man is but a shadow.
It almost seems as if the whole family of mankind had been striving to give us glimpses of
of a home that is divine. The Egyptians had
the idea of life; the Persians, light; the Greeks,
beauty; the Romans, law; the Jews, purity;
the Christians, love. Perhaps if we could see
the whole development of the race completed,
we might behold a glorious picture of the ultimate home standing out as the result of this
development.
At any rate, no one can help noting the fact




354      GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.
that the idea of a divine home has been generally present to the mind of the species.
Even the fancy of transmigration is gilded
with the glory of the higher light; for the
spirit after many changes may at last reach the
communion of the gods.      The mystics of all
religions have loved to think of themselves as
rays of the infinite sun; streams flowing onward
to the primal ocean; mysterious waves which
sweep the bosom of an eternal sea. Many
could say" God is the universal sea of being!
All beings, e'en the countless hosts of heaven,
Move towards him as the streamlets to the ocean.
Is the great sea of Deity in tempest?
Then all his streamlets toss with agitation.
Will he, the Parent-deep, dry up those waters?
He casts them from him to the shore's dry heights.
Or, will he merge them in his own abysses?
Then must they yield as stubble to the burning."
Even the atheist and secularist, in their eagerness to banish eternal and divine conceptions
from the minds of men, show by their incessant
efforts that it is not an easy thing to destroy
the aspirations of the God-made soul.    They
seem  like youth, who, since they left their
father's house, have lived an abandoned life;
and so, not being able to return with any com



GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.    355
fort to themselves, deny all connection with
the family. The very denial points to the
truth.
The Platonic idea that knowledge is reninzscence seems to find a realization in our subject; for the mind has an indistinct conception
of a home in the past from which it has strayed.
It seems to be struggling to recollect the totality
of the divine idea. There is a vague glory
surrounding some ancient beyond, out of which
the soul imagines that/it dropped; as if a prodigal prince half remembered that he fell from
his father's palace window while an infant,
never having seen his home since that time.
This strange thought of the mind is much the
same as a dream which one partially remembers
when awake. A certain impression has been
left upon the soul, yet the full and true intent
of it cannot be gained. IHow this notion has
found a place in the soul of man, it is difficult
to tell. Probably it may be a vestige of a
primeval truth which remained with the spirit
after it sinned, designed evermore to establish
the fact of an original fall from God. Most
men know that the present state of things is
abnormal in its character; and, consequently, it
suggests the existence of antecedent develop



356     GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.
ment regulated by eternal law. This idea of a
past glory darkly divine is almost the common
property of the race.   The theologies and
mythologies of the elder nations all look back.
"Though the child longs to pass the hills or seas
which inclose his narrow home, yet, when his
eager steps have borne him beyond those limits,
he pines, like the plant, for his native soil; and
it is by this touching and beautiful attribute
of man-this longing for that which is unknown,
and this fond remembrance of that which is
lost-that he is spared from an exclusive attachment to the present."*
How natural it is also for the mind to look
forward to a good that is to be obtained.
Since man conceives that he has fallen from a
divine height, and that now he is confined as
it were in a prison, he expectantly looks to the
future for freedom and blessedness.  The man
of business intends to retire to the scenes of
private life when a sufficiency of money has
been accumulated, that thus he may spend the
evening of his years in quiet and contentment.
The scholar is cheered by his future of fame,
and the official aspirant by his post of honor.
Why have so many entered convents? A good
* Humboldt, "Cosmos," vol. i, p. 359.




GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.     357
which they craved was thought to be there.
Why have theorists and philanthropists pictured out a great day of peace and happiness
to the nations? The same yearning for good
to come is the answer. The Republic of Plato
and the finest works of the imagination are but
the outgrowth of this ideal of souls. Even
the church of God during its afflictive periods
has sent forth the sublimest poetry and prophecy respecting a millennium of rest and peace
in the ages to come. The whole world seems
to be in a state of pain, and is sighing for a
state of deliverance.  "The earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God."  There is a sort of
vague undefinable impression, we think, upon
all spirits, of some great evolution of the present system under which we live-some looking
toward, as well as longing after, immortalitysome mysterious but yet powerful senee within
every heart, of the present as a state of confinement and thraldom; and that yet a day
of light and largeness and liberty is coming."
"The vision of a golden age at some remote
period of antiquity, is not unaccompanied with
the vision of a yet splendid and general revival
of all things."" We cannot but think that
* Chalrrers, Lectures on Romans, p. 282.




358     GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.
these anticipations show that the creaturely
spirit has some conception of A home with God.
The whole of this action of mind with reference to some unknown and future good is the
prophecy of perfected blessedness at the right
hand of the Supreme. "There is an object for
whom we are made, and out of whom we cannot rest,-who is the secret want of our hearts
even when we go astray from him; and whom
we desire when we know it not."
As the mind also contemplates the great
truths of the higher philosophy it seems to
move towards the divine goal of being. The
sublime speculations of metaphysics and theology carry the soul into a region that is pure,
elevating, godlike. Especially is this the case
if the objects of thought are eternal and immutable.  And, what is instructive, there
is a feeling of peace and pleasure to the welldisciplined mind while engaged on topics and
truths that are unchangeable in their nature.
The soul rests in the absolute idea, and is
happy because it rests. What a relief anda a
relish come to the created spirit when it grasps
the idea of a Cause that is both efficient and
final; and what power there is in the idea of
law. As we enter the moral sphere, the mind




GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.     359
is composed by the conception that right is
immutable. The entire philosophy of the reason, as contradistinguished from that of the
understanding, brings peace. Hence all finer
natures have loved to commune with ideal
being. One in this way comes nearer to the
fountain-head of all truth-to God. "There
is good room to ask whether the peculiar energy
of what might be called the mathematical soul
does not carry with it a deep meaning, and
declare the truth of man's destination at the
first, and of his destiny still to take a place and
to act a part in a world of manifested truth
and of eternal order. Do we venture too far in
saying that, when mathematical abstractions of
the higher sort take possession of a vigorous
reason, there is placed before us a tacit recognition (one among several, all carrying the
same meaning) of the fact that the human
mind is so framed as to find its home nowhere
but in a sphere within which the absolute and
the unchangeable shall stand revealed in the
view of the finite intelligence?"* The quiet
that settles down upon the soul during such moments of abstraction is proof that it was made
to find its blessedness in the bosom of change* Isaac Taylor, "World of Mind," p. 165.




360      GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.
less Love. It is pleasant to see even in man
fallen vestiges of his former greatness; and
pleasant to hear prophetic annunciations of a
land of peace and light that lies far away
beyond the abodes of time and mere sensible
reality. There is something exceedingly attractive in the very height to which the soul
can carry itself, and in the very pureness of
the eternal sky where nothing sparkles and
shines but the supernatural. It certainly is a
fact that the soul is nearer its own native
region while thus situated; for it is far above
the strife of human tongues and the noisy
tumult of earth,-away up in the realm of the
supersensible and the divine, where certainty
reigns forevermore, and absolute necessary
truth conducts the mind to the very presence
of the Everlasting.
If I am not mistaken, man goes through life
with a sense of uncompleted being. There is
always something wanting. A beginning is
made, but a wholeness never results from this.
There is nothing like totality or rounded completion. This makes man uneasy and dissatisfied. He never finds what his nature demands.
There is something even in the holiest minds
upon earth which intimates that the life here




GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.     361
and the experience here are but half finished.
With this state of human nature, there is an
ideal in the mind which points to the future as
a place of completed being.  It is not at all necessary that there should be clear and distinct
conceptions with respect to this perfected condition. Even the best of men are unable to
understand the fulness of blessedness that will
constitute the heritage of a saved soul. It is
enough to have the simple conviction that the
whole being will be satisfied. Now, we cannot
help thinking that this movement of mind is
really another step towards the divine home
of spirits. The sinful soul perceives that perfected and finished life is hereafter.  All men
have a heaven which is to be the consummation
of good. We may even say that the race has
had four great visions of blessedness:  The
first, respecting a primitive state of purity and
happiness.  The second, when there was a
general expectation that some great personage
would appear,-pointing to "' Christ the desire
of all nations:" The third, foretelling a day of
prosperity and peace to the future people of
earth. The fourth, finding its realization in
the eternal state.  The great terminal period
with man individually and collectively is not in
16




362      GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.
time, but in eternity. There seems to be a
current in the sea of the soul that has a specific direction of its own. The mind unconsciously turns to one point. It seems to be
attracted towards some great object hidden in
the distance, even as the stellar hosts incline
towards a central universe. The thought of
completed being is dimly associated with God.
Man was not made to be happy in himself;
neither was he made to find completion in a
place, as heaven; but in a person, and that
person Divine. It is an ultimate truth that
when any being attains the end for which it
was created it finds rest. Man feels that he
has not reached the end of his creation, for he
is unhappy; and, consequently, he imagines
that absolute rest will in some way come to the
soul when it is carried along by the infinite love
and plan of God. Says John Owen: " Our
love unto God ariseth from a sense of our own
wants-our insufficiency to come unto rest in
ourselves, or to attain unto blessedness by our
own endeavors. In this state, seeing all in
God, and expecting all from the suitableness
of his excellencies unto our rest and satisfaction,
our souls cleave unto him, with a desire of the
nearest union whereof our natures are capable.




GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.     363
We are made for him, and cannot rest until we
come unto him."*
Here we notice now that suggestive fact of
our nature, Viz,, the demand for unity. The
common working of the intellectual powers is
guided by this natural tendency or law of our
being. In the sphere of our moral life, there
is a constant agitation and fluctuation of soul
because this fixed unity is not found. There
is a rasping unhappiness very frequently when
one cannot see that anything has been done
which is sinful, in itself. Yea, at the very
moment when there is a good degree of joy on
account of some benevolent act or feeling, there
is also back of this a secret dissatisfaction.
This is the soul crying out in its own native
dialect for oneness. The sense of pain, which
really never forsakes the spirit of man in the
present life, is the witness of disunion. The
mind possessing this experience feels that the
whole nature should be in a state of oneness
with itself and with God. The principle of
unity will not allow the soul to rest out of the
final Object. The culmination of all good is
realized when the great unitary law of existence connects the finite with the Infinite.  It
A Works, vol. i, p. 153.




364      GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.
seems probable that the union of the persons
in the Godhead is the sublime ideal of that
oneness which ought to characterize the entire
commonwealth of mind. The trinity in unity
is doubtless the archetype which God is aiming
to realize throughout boundless space and endless time.  Hence the significant prayer of
Christ, "That they all may be one; as thou,
Father, art in me, and I in thee."  President
Edwards, in his  Dissertation concerning the
end for which God created the world," makes
use of the following language.:  God's respect
to the creature's good, and his respect to himself, is not a divided respect; but both are
united in one, as the happiness of the creature
aimed at, is happiness in union with himself.
The creature is no further happy with this happiness which God makes his ultimate end, than
he becomes one with God. The more happiness
the greater the union: when the happiness is
perfect, the union is perfect. And as the happiness will be increasing to eternity, the union
will become more and more strict and perfect;
nearer and more like to that between God the
Father, and the Son; who are so united, that
their interest is perfectly one. If the happipiness of the creature be considered as it will




GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.    365
be, in the whole of the creature's eternal duration, with all the infinity of its progress, and
infinite increase of nearness and union to God;
in this view the creature must be looked upon
as united to God in an infinite strictness."*
This high and ultimate conception of unity
does not rest satisfied with making God the
home of the soul, but rather the home of all
spiritual orders. Even fallen spirits in their
eternal wanderings will ever have before them
the vision of a lost home,-a vision which will
intensify the pain of inward disunion, and render terrible the sense of uncompleted being.
As sailors while crossing the Caribbean Sea
imagine that they hear the sound of bells of
sunken islands, so outcast spirits will fail never
to hear the echoes of a lost heaven and a lost
God.    0 my God, how happy is the soul who
finds his delight in thee, since he may abandon
himself to thy love, not only without scruple,
but with commendation. How firm and lasting
is his happiness, since his hope cannot be disappointed, because thou wilt never be destroyed,
and neither life nor death shall separate him
from the object of his desires; and that the
same moment which overwhelms the wicked
* Works, vol. ii, p. 256.




366      GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.
and their idols in one common ruin shall unite
the just with thee in one common glory; and
that as the one shall perish with the perishable
objects to which   they were attached, the
others shall exist eternally in the eternal and
self-existent Object to which they are so strictly
united."*
From the standing ground that we have now
reached, we can see that a divine home for the
creaturely spirit is inseparably connected with
two ultimate mental states; viz., rest and
blessedness. There are no words that fall so
kindly and softly on the troubled soul of man
as these two. When I search for the ultimate
demand of souls in ruin that ultimate demand
is rest. And this, too, is clear, that no mere
outward quiet will answer. It is not that of
place and circumstance; not material and bodily;
but it is wholly spiritual.  It is the soul that
needs the rest, and must have it.  I care not
what may be the external condition; it may be
as serene, beautiful, peaceful, as heaven itself;
and yet, if the soul is not harmonized, all is
but a pleasant mockery, and the evil is only
increased by the mighty contrast. The collective wicked of earth may be transported to
* Pascal, "Thoughts," p. 376.




GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.     367
the peaceful regions of the saved, yet they
would groan with agony; for it is the soul that
is conscious of inner misery, and that pants for
repose. It must be observed that rest and
blessedness are results. We must consequently
find that which will produce these states. Hom6
then will be reached.
Our first statement is, that rest and blessedness are the result of perfect order in the soul.
There is a great law or principle in the human
mind which points to a region of perfect order
as that which alone is desirable. This ideal of
order makes one ever dissatisfied with confusion. A splendid edifice, all the parts of which
are well proportioned, invites one to look, and
to continue looking, with manifest delight. A
garden all arranged in symmetry compels the
eye to gaze upon it with satisfaction. If listening to a company of singers all of whom unite
to produce one piece of music in perfect harmony, you are delighted, and wish the whole
to continue on account of the evident satisfaction which it brings to the soul; while again,
if there be nothing but a scene of discords, this
grates upon the ear, and you wish the whole
performance to cease. When the entire mind
acts according to the design of God, it is en



368     GOD THE HOME OF TIIE SOUL.
raptured and at rest at the same time. Imagine
only one sin to exist, and unrest would follow.
The ongoing of the soul would then be like the
eye with a burning spark in it; it is inflamed,
and weeps with pain, and has no rest till the
spark is removed. Suppose that a hair in some
way has connected itself with the mainspring of
a watch; the whole movement is one of evident
uneasiness; and, if the watch could speak, it
would say that it was restless and unhappy.
Remove the hair, and the working would all be
natural and according to the design of the
maker. Even so is it with the soul that is
freed from all error and moral corruption.
Every part fits and harmonizes; and as there
is nothing to create a jarring, a sweet peace
spreads over the entire mind and a divine joy
animates the whole being. What if the whole
realm of mind were in unison with itself and in
unison with the Eternal Spirit! How   unspeakably blessed such harmony of existence!
The very conception of universal and eternal
order diffuses a quiet happiness over the
soul; even as the dreams of dying saints paint
the countenance with joy, and cause a smile
of gladness to linger there after the spirit
has ascended to the communions of God. The




GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.     369
perfect and divine home of souls is certainly reached when perfect order is thus realized.
Again, rest and blessedness are the result of
perfect activity. The idea of rest is very frequently associated with the idea of inactivity.
It would seem that the thought is taken from
the outward and material sphere in which men
are accustomed to move in the present life.
When one is weary with labor, rest and nonlabor connect themselves together. Cessation
from toil brings rest to the body. Hence, too,
of the rest in sleep, when there is both inactivity and unconsciousness. But this is purely
materialistic, and wholly unlike that mental
quiet and satisfaction which follows perfect
activity. In bodies that are sound and healthy,
a sensation of rest and pleasure results from
well-directed exercise, which bears some resemblance to the mental states. We suppose
also that in the future life the body celestial
will be a fit organ for the soul; it will aid the
spirit instead of cramping it, because the principle of order just mentioned will characterize
the two natures alike; and thus, there being
the highest harmony between them, the highest
activity may be exercised with safety. It is
16*




370      GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.
well known, that the sweetest peace is obtained
at the very time when benevolent action and
emotion are perpetuated by the affections and
will; and if all schismatic and unharmonious
elements were removed from the mind, the sabbath blessedness of heaven and of God would
be its rich possession forever. I think we may
be safe in affirming, that the beatitude of the
Divine Being is intimately connected with his
activity. We cannot for a moment admit the
conception of a passive Deity. Even amidst
the vast solitudes of eternity, while as yet the
clock-work of creation had not commenced its
movements, the Most High was intensely
active,-active in the beginningless loves and
communions of the three divine persons. The
soul that is fashioned after the divine image
seems made for eternal activity; finding satisfaction to its whole nature only in this way.
Even in sleep, there is good reason to believe
that the mind is active; for let one be awakened
suddenly, and he finds that he was thinking, he
was in the midst of a dream. That we are unconscious of this constant night-thought is no
objection.  "There are powers in man, the
activities of which lie beyond the sphere of
consciousness." If we have intense feelings




GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.     371
of pleasure and pain during sleep, it is likely
that these will be more easily remembered than
simple processes of thought; for what we feel
is more generally within the circle of consciousness than what we think. Yea, so intent is the
mind upon action that there is frequently a
struggle to attend to a number of things at one
time; as when the extemporaneous speaker
thinks not only with reference to present utterance, but also with reference to some future
part of the discourse; or, as when the skilled
musician reads the notes before him, sings,
plays, uses his feet, thinks of what is foreign
to the business he is engaged in, apparently at
the same instant. From all this, it is clear that
activity is the grand constituent of mind; and
when perfect, divine peace and pleasure follow
from it.
Furthermore, the joy and peace that characterize souls with God spring from a sense of
perfect safety. Every one knows how much of
misery comes to the mind from doubt. The
person is made to go from side to side, not
knowing what to think or what to do. This of
necessity produces much restlessness. The want
of certainty agitates and weakens the mind at
the same time. Then the element of fear comes




372      GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.
in, and that makes the whole being to quiver.
Am I sure that my faith is well founded?
Many have been self-deceived, and why may
not I be also? Thus it can be seen how much
of internal discord and unhappiness arise from
these different sources. But when one is with
God all this is gone. There is no doubt, no
fear, no danger of self-deception. There is a
most perfect sense of safety, and consequently
the entire soul is quiet, is at rest. There is not
even the distant supposition of evil. A world
of restlessness is produced by that which may
be, but which never is. The soul with perfect
order and activity acts not in this way. And
this, too, should be noted, that the saved spirit
has not to look away to some future when it
expects to be with God, but it is with him.
Besides, the whole of eternity is one vast scene
of safety. Man purified may think of distant
ages that are to come and pass onward like the
great systems and.constellations in the sidereal
heavens, but no change in the annals of eternity
destroys the sense of safety that fills his soul.
And the chief reason now is thlat nan is holy.
No scar is seen on any countenance, memorial
of ancient crime. A visitor from some distant
world would never know that the mighty array




GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.     373
of glorified men were once with sin defiled.
The eye is clear as the stars of God, and the
voice that'hymns the eternal anthem is mellow
and sweet as the sound of seraphim while they
chant the morning psalm of heaven. Whether
these saved immortals be upon mountain summit clear, or beneath the shade of the tree of
life, whose roots are nourished by the river of
God; on the palace walls of glory, or around
the great white throne,-all are alike. Each
blooms with eternal youth, and each tells the
story of a wondrous love; a love warm as the
summers of eternity, and soft as the dew that
falls upon the hill of Zion.
Indeed, we may say that all good is realized
in the divine home of souls. Nothing is wanting. God satisfies the entire nature.  There
is a totality of blessedness. Man is unhappy
no more. " Lord, I have viewed the world
over, in which thou hast set me; I have tried
how this and that thing will fit my spirit and
the design of my creation; and can find nothing in which to rest, for nothing here doth itself
rest, but such things as please me for a while,
in some degree vanish and flee as shadows from
before me. Lo, I come to thee, the eternal
Being, the Spring of life, the Centre of rest,




374      GOD THE HOME OF THE SOUL.
the Stay of the creation, the Fulness of all
things! I join myself to thee, with thee I
will lead my life and spend my days, with whom
I am to dwell forever, expecting when my little
time is over to be taken up ere long into thy
eternity."
THE END.