i*t^.

J£l<

G-
ESSAYS

THE NATURE AND USES OF THE VARIOUS
EVIDENCES

of

REVEALED __.__-__IC.EON.

6V GULIAN C. VERPLANCK, ESQ.

''¦ Quis tandem me reprehendat, si quantum alii tempestiris convivijs,
quadtilm aleoe, quantum pilse; tantum ioihi egomet ad haec studia recolen-
dasumpsero.'" Cic.

m W- YORK:
CMARLES WILEY, N°- 3 WALL-STREET.
J. TV. PALMER & CO. PRINTERS.
1824.

¦hr_

S3

VJ3

Southern jbistricl ofNeiSYork, ss.
(L< S.) BE IT REMEMBERED, that on the tenth day of August, in the
forty -ninth year of the Independence ofthe United States of America,
Gulian C. Verplanck, of the said district, hath, deposited in this office the
title of a book, the right whereof he claims as author, in the words follow
ing, to wit : . ¦
"Essays on the Nature and Uses ofthe Various Evidences of Revealed
Religion. By Gulian C. Verplanck, Esq. ' Quis tandem me reprehendat,
si quantum alii tempestivis conviviis, quantum ale a?, quantum pilae ; tantum
mihi egomet ad haec studia recolenda sumpsero.' Cic"
. In conformity to the Act of Congress of the United States, entitled " Ao
Act for the encouragement of Learning, by securing the copies of Maps,
Charts, and Books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during
the time therein mentioned ;" and also to an act entitled, " An Act, sup
plementary to an Act, entitled, an Act for the encouragement of Learning,
_y securing copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors and pro
prietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned, and extending
the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching histo
rical and other prints.
JAMES DILL,
Clerk ofthe Southern District of New-YorR.

TO
WASHINGTON ALLSTONj
AS A SLIGHT MARK OF RESPECT,
FOR HIS
TALENTS, WORKS, AND CHARACTER,..
THESE ESSAYS
ARE INSCRIBED BY
THE AUTHOR,

PREFACE.
It is not the design of this volume to pre
sent a regular and formal exposition of the
Evidences of Christianity.
This has already been *Ione so often and
so ably in our language, and in so many
forms, from the learned collections of Dr.
Lardner, and the original and profound ar
guments of Clarke and Butler, to the popu
lar and perspicuous statements of Addi
son, Paley, Beattie, and Chalmers, that an
attempt to go over the same ground in de
tail, seems almost presumptuous and not
Very useful. But, in examining these and
similar works, I have frequently been struck
with whatj amidst much excellence, ap
peared to me to be serious imperfec
tions. Some of those who have discussed
the historical and critical testimony in the
most admirable and ingenious manner,
wholly neglect or avoid the internal
evidence arising from the character of
the doctrines taught, and from their pro
bable or their observed effects ; whilst

VI

others, with Dr. Chalmers, decidedly deny
the power of the human intellect, to weigh
the force of any such argument. To my
mind, this evidence is, of all other, the
most efficacious, and the most universal in
its application.
The influence of our sentiments and
affections over our intellectual decisions
is confessedly very strong, on all sub
jects of moral inquiry; of necessity it
must have great sway in the considera
tion of the most momentous and deep
ly interesting of all inquiries, that concern^-
ing the truth of our Religion. Though
this influence is never denied by any sound
reasoner, and is constantly seen to furnish
the most effectual instrument of religious
eloquence in the inculcation of Christian
truth, yet, those who write professedly on
the subject, are generally inclined to re
gard it as being wholly distinct and apart
from the exercise of the rational faculties,
and therefore incapable of affording any
test ofthe truth or falsehood of opinions.
But, besides the close and intimate con
nexion which exists between the purely ra
tional, and the moral and sentimental parts
of our nature, and the constant and forcible
action and re-action which they exert upon
each other ; the adaptation of any sys
tem of moral precept or instruction to our
better sentiments and feelings, and to the

vn

actual condition of man, may be also con
sidered intellectually, and thus furnish no
feeble proof of its divine origin.
Those authors who have most faithfully
and judiciously collected and stated the
critical and historical learning which cor
roborates the relations, and verifies the
authenticity of the books of scripture,
or most ably expounded the speculative
and metaphysical vindications of its doc
trine, are often too apt to consider them
as mere questions for the exertion of
learned jacuteness. I have thought that
these arguments might be made more
useful by showing their connexion with
the common principles upon which most
men reason and judge, in the ordinary af
fairs of life.
The several grounds on which their reli
gion is ration-illy received by the great bo
dy of intelligent Christians also appeared
to reflect back much light upon the na
ture, character and uses of those eviden
ces themselves, which in various manners
have thus made their way to the under
standings or the hearts of so many thinking
beings. Such are the leading yiews, of which it
is the object of this volume to present a
brief «and perspicuous, though I am fully
conscious it must be. a most imperfect,
statement.

VU1

It has been endeavoured throughout;
to avoid the mixing any consideration
of those debated questions, which divide
Christians, with these general and preli
minary arguments, except so far as unne
cessary concession or silence seemed di
rectly to involve the positive abandonment
of essential truth.
The reader will very soon perceive that
no attempt has been made in these pages
to comply with that canon of taste or crit
icism, fdunded alike on good sense and in
high authority, which advises that every
book should be as complete as possible
within itself. On the contrary, I have
presumed the reader to have some ge
neral acquaintance with the subject, and
considering most of the particular facts as
already in evidence before him, have main
ly confined myself to the principles which
they involve, and the inferences justly to
be, drawn from them.
If, however, these Essays should fall into
the hands of any one who has not this pre
vious knowledge, and whose attention has
never been turned to this inquiry^ should
they have the effect of exciting him to far
ther and honest examination, they will not
have been written in vain.

CONTENTS.

ESSAY I.
The several Heads of the Evidences of Revealed Religion;
their various Characters ; and the Argument resulting from
their concurrent Testimony, Page 1
ESSAY II.
Ofthe Power of Human Reason to judge of the Internal Evi
dence of Truth in the Doctrines and Precepts of Religion, 35
ESSAY III.
The probable Characteristics of Truth in the Doctrines, Pre
cepts, and Moral Influence of any Religion, 79
ESSAY IV.
The Intention and Uses of the different Heads of Evidence for
the Truth of Christianity, 123
ESSAY V-
The Critical Internal Evidence, 170
ESSAY VI.
The Internal Evidence arising from Congruity of Narrative and
Character ; from Style and Manner. Remarks upon the con
nexion of the partial Obscurities of Scripture with its proba
ble Uses and Intention, 217
APPENDIX, 253

ESSAY I.
The several Heads of the Evidences of revealed Reli
gion ; their various Characters ; and the Argument re
sulting from their concurrent Testimony.
In studying the evidences of the truth of re
vealed religion, whether they are examined solely
for our own satisfaction, or to enable us to give
light to others, it is very useful to bear con
stantly in mind, that every particular argument
and branch of this evidence, however clear and
convincing it may be in itself, still belongs to a
vast system of truths, the several parts of which
are wonderfully fitted, in different ways, to the
various understandings, characters, and situa
tions of those to whom this universal dispensa
tion is offered. • Thus is held out to every in
quirer — as well'tp the scholar who can make the
whole of human learning tributary to his investiga
tions, as to the unlettered seeker after truth, who
draws all his knowledge from his own heart and
the sense of his own wants — some argument,
which, if rightly received, may be sufficient to
satisfy his reason, to awaken his conscience, or to
1

2
engage his affections; while the whole of this
proof taken together forms a vast and grand
chain of moral demonstration, running through
every age of the wrorld, embracing at once all
that we know of our race, its history, and desti
nies ; and all that we know concerning ourselves,
our own nature, our duties, our weakness, and
our dangers.
Almost all of man's science and the whole of
his history, including alike the annals of princes
and nations, and the more secret records of each
one's memory of his past life, thus becomes, to a
meditative and reflecting mind, in some way or
other, connected with the history and doctrines
of Christianity, and may be made to bear attesta
tion to their truth.
Hence the evidence of revelation is, throughout,
not only in its general heads, but in every branch
of it, (to use the happy and expressive phrase of
Dr. Paley,) strictly 'cumulative;'* each part
serving not merely to confirm the other evidence
of the same nature, but also, by the aggregation
of innumerable probabilities, to strengthen the
whole an hundred fold, until every chance of
error or fraud is gradually, and at length com
pletely, excluded ; " and thus," gays Jeremy Tay-
* This useful and expressive word is, I believe, original with Paley ; at
least, in the general and popular sense in which he applies it. It is borrowed
from the civil law, where it has an analogous technical signification,

3

lor, " the heaping together heads of probabilities
" is or may be the cause of an infinite persuasion."
" Probable arguments," continues that eloquent
divine, with his accustomed lavish exuberance of
beautiful illustration and brilliant imagery ;
" probable arguments are like little stars, every
" one of Which may be useless to our conduct and
" enlightening, but when they are tyed together
" by order and vicinity, by the finger of God and
"the hand of an angel, they make a constellation,
" and are not only powerful in their influence,
" but like a bright angel to guide and enlighten
"our way. And although the light is not so
" great as the light of the sun or moon, yet mari-
" ners sail by their conduct, and though with tre-
"pidation and some danger, yet very regularly
" they enter into the haven. This heap of proba-
"ble inducements is not of power as a mathe-
" matical demonstration, which is in discourse as
" a sun is in the heaven, but it makes a milky and
" a white path, visible enough to walk securely."*
It is this " tying together by order and vicini
ty," this luminous and distinct arrangement ofthe
various materials of a most copious and diversified
subject of inquiry, which gives its peculiar value
to Paley's deservedly popular treatise on the Evi
dences of Christianity, and especially to the ad-
*' Taylor's Ductor Dubitaniium.

4
mirable outline and compression of the historical
testimony to the leading facts of the history of
redemption, and the early propagation of its doc
trine, and to the authenticity ofthe books of the
New Testament contained in the first part of his
work. The reader is there enabled to take in, at
one view, the substance of the multifarious and
complicated testimony of a long chain of Christian
Fathers, acknowledging and constantly quoting
our present scriptures ; of Jewish and heathen
writers ; of versro ns, commentaries, harmonies,
rites, ceremonies^ and controversies ; of attacks
and concessions of ancient adversaries ; of agree
ments of early sects who differed on all other
points ; of probabilities arising from the state of
opinion in the Roman world ; from the condition
of society in that age, and from the universal and
unchangeable motives of human action in all
times : forming together an immense mass of
external evidence to which all that could be col
lected in support of the best attested and most
undoubted facts of ancient history, or in proof of
the genuineness ofthe most unquestioned and ad
mired remains of ancient genius, can bear no sort
of comparison.The materials of this argument are to be found
more at large in other authors, and especially in
the works of Dr. Lardner, who has collected and
arranged the numerous authorities bearing upon

this subject with an accuracy of research, and a
patient diligence, which have been well character
ized in the epithet applied to him, I think by Gib
bon, of the " laborious Lardner," and who is
moreover entitled to the higher praise of never
colouring or exaggerating the force of any testi
mony which he adduces, and whose fidelity in ci
tation has never been impeached. But here his
merit ends, and the materials which he so indus
triously and faithfully collected have derived a
tenfold value and usefulness in the hands of Paley,
from their arrangement and application, from that
condensation ofthe whole immense mass of learn
ing and authority? which reduces it as it were into
a portable form, and fits it for the grasp of an or
dinary mind ; and,/ above all, from the practical,
business-like good sense with which the argu
ment is managed, the inferences clearly and can
didly drawn, and the whole brought to concur in
one irresistible conclusion.
Leslie's " Short MethocLwith the Deists,"* in
which the historical, the ritual, and other exter
nal evidences of revelation are summed up in
four short rules, pointing out as many criteria of
the certainty of any historical fact, the co-exist
ence of all of which renders its truth demonstra
ble, is another work which bears the stamp 'of
* See note A at the conclusion.

the same peculiar talent, is marked by the same
clearness of understanding, and the same power
of lucid arrangement and vigorous generalization.
" Leslie/' said Dr. Johnson, (making an exception
in his case from his sweeping censure of the
English non-jurors as wholly deficient in logical
talent,) " was a reasoner in-teed, and a reasoner
not tp be reasoned against." He wasted much
of his talent in controversies of a very narrow
ahd wholly transient interest, and without any
exemption from that extravagance and intole
rance, which, in the strife of civil and religious
faction, so often degrade the loftiest, and blind
the acutest minds ; but this little tract is an ad
mirable and lasting specimen of the manner in
which he could seize the prominent points of an
extensive and complicated inquiry, and place
them before his readers in one distinct and vivid
light. In fact, almost all of reasoning or infer
ence, that is to be found in the numerous authors
who have written upon the historical evidences
of Christianity, though they may have taken
widely different courses to arrive at their con
clusions, may be disposed of under the four
heads of Leslie's method.
There is scarce an authority, or an argument,
which has ever been adduced in corroboration of
those leading facts asserted in our Scriptures,
which, if established, involve the reception of

their doctrines, and the authority of the books as
serting them, which does not tend to confirm one
or other of his great points : — 1st. That these
facts were sensible, i. e. such as men's eyes, ears,
and outward senses could judge of. 2d. That
they were notorious — taking place publicly/ in
the presence of many and competent witnesses.
3d. That there are now existing memorials of
the facts, such as public and significant actions,
customs, rites, established societies of men, obser
vations of days, public readings of the books in
which they are related, all expressly commemo-
ratihg these events. 4th. That such memorials
commenced at the time assumed as that of the
occurrence of the facts, or the publication of the
books ; there being not only direct proof of
that period of commencement, but also no other
period being at all probable from argument or
conjecture, and still less from positive history.
It is evident, that no stronger proof can be
given of any fact not within the immediate me
mory of the present, or at least of the last prece
ding generation, than may be afforded by the
concurrence of all these circumstances ; and in
running over in my own mind the most noted
events and institutions of antiquity, I can find
none, with the single and very striking exception
of the history of the Roman law, and the authen
ticity of its code, digest, and institutes, which,

8
tried by these rules,4 is supported by any thing
like the same strength of testimony as the history
of the miracles and death of Jesus Christ, of the
miraculous propagation of his religion, and the
universal reception by his followers of the books
which we now hold as sacred.
A scholar, possessing the learning, ingenuity,
and paradoxical spirit of Bentley, Warburton, or
Hardouin, might doubtless raise many objections
against the authenticity of Caesar's Commentaries,
or Xenophon's Retreat ofthe Ten Thousand, and
might allege many arguments-to refute the nar
rative of Caesar's wars in Gaul, ©r-Cyr us' attempt
to gain the throne of Persia ; or against any other
books, and almost any other facts of ancient his
tory. Such objections or arguments could never
produce any, even the slightest degree of con
viction, and yet it must be often very difficult to
refute them conclusively.
But neither Grecian and Roman antiquity, nor
that of the lower empire, has transmitted to us
any writings except the commonly received
books of the New Testament, and those of
the civil law, which are evidenced by numerous
other works, comprising a vast body of wholly pe
culiar learning, too voluminous, complicated and
characteristic, to have possibly been framed for
the purpose of imposition, which are altogether
founded upon their authority, and whether agree-

9
Ing or disagreeing in their opinions respecting
them, always confirming their authority ; by an ex
ceedingly various and extensive indirect, or allu
sive corroboration from cotemporaneous history
and literature ; by an order of men devoted to
their study ; by a deep and intimate connection
with the opinions, interests, . habits, and lan
guage of whole nations ; by constantly recurring
forms, customs, ceremonies, and usages, and by
speeches, writings, and controversies regarding
them, amongst different nations, sects, and class
es of society, and throughout whole countries.
If some such learned and bold a freethinker
in legal antiquities as the Jesuit Hardouin was in
classical literature, had started doubts against the
history and authenticity, of the civil code, or had
asserted that it was an arbitrary innovation of
Justinian, or some later Greek Emperor, and
therefore in no degree entitled to that authority
and antiquity which it claims as comprehending
and being founded upon the venerable laws of
the Roman republic, and the decisions of wise
and learned men under the Roman empire for
centuries ; the evidence which a civilian or anti
quarian would appeal to against sueh objections ;
if, indeed, any scholar or learned lawyer could
esteem such objections worth the answer — would
be throughout analogous to that testimony which
such writers as Lardner have collected in support

10
of the faets and books of the Christian revela
tion ; although it is, I think, certain that it would
be far less strong and extensive.*
The effect of such outlines as these; necessarily
is to give very great additional strength and
clearness to the whole argument, by bringing its
numerous points into a. connected view, and
showing their mutual relation, and the support
they lend each other ; at the same time that they
afford assistance to the memory, and furnish the
means of a ready application of our knowledge
by a compendious and philosophical arrange
ment. The prophetic testimony to the coming and
character of our Saviour, the nature of his reli
gion, his rejection and sufferings, and the influ
ence and history of his dispensation, is in this
respect of a precisely similar nature, and does not
consist merely (as Paley in his, as usual, sensible
but yet most imperfect statement of this argu
ment, has, in com.mon with many other respecta
ble writers, been content to state) in two or three,
or even in twenty remarkable and distinct predic
tions ; but it comprehends a great and long sus-

* Such a comparison might be made without the labour of much re
search. The materials are to be found ready collected in Heinecius' His
tory of the Roman Law, and tlie other legal writings of that great civilian
and antiquarian, who has been deservedly pronounced to be1 the very best
writer of elementary books upon any subject.

11
tained system of divine interposition and inspira
tion from the beginning ofthe world, stretching
through all ages, and still rolling onward to its
completion. It is contained, 1st. In the direct, repeated,
and minute predictions of a long line of writers
and teachers, the oracles and classics of the Jewr-
ish people, the genuineness of whose works is
proved by a singularly powerful complication of
internal and external evidence ; and whose more
express predictions are so numerous and circum
stantial as to exclude all possibility of a fortui
tous accomplishment.
Rousseau, in the eloquent and paradoxical
confession of faith which he puts in the mouth of
his Savoyard Vicar in Emilius, has said that no
fulfilment of prophecy could be of any weight
with him to prove a divine interposition, unless it
could be demonstrated that the agreement be
tween the prophecy and the event could not
possibly have been fortuitous. This proof is
more than any fair objector has a right to claim,
since it is moral probability and not strict demon
stration which we must act upon in the most
momentous concerns of life, and as reasonable
men we should rest on the same evidences in
matters of faith. In both the truly wise man
will be governed by common sense, applied ta
the investigation of rational probability..

12 i
In this case, however, we may accept the chal
lenge ofthe sceptic. Where the points of ful
filment of prediction are numerous, it may be lit
erally " demonstrated" that the probability of
such accomplishment having accrued fortuitously
is the most remote possible.
This argument is put in a praptical and stri
king point of view by Dr. Gregory, of the Military
Academy at Woolwich, well known for many re
spectable and useful works, especially on mathe-r
matics and scientific mechanics.
" Suppose," says he, " that instead of the spirit
of prophecy breathing more or less in every book
of scripture, predicting events relative to a, great
variety of general topics; and delivering besides
almost innumerable characteristics ofthe Mes
siah, all meeting in the person of Jesus ; there
had been only ten men in ancient times who
pretended to be prophets, each of whom exhibit
ed only five independent criteria as to place, go
vernment, concomitant events, doctrine taught,
effects of doctrine, character, sufferings,-or death :
the meeting of all which in one person should
prove the reality of their calling as prophets, and
of his mission in the character they have assign
ed him. Suppose, moreover, that all events were
left to chance merely, and we were to compute,
from the principles employed by mathematicians
in the investigations of such subjects, the proba-

13
bility of these fifty independent circumstances
happening at all. Assume that there is, accord
ing to the technical phrase, an equal chance for
the happening or the failure Of any one of these
specified particulars ; then the probability.against
the occurrence of all the particulars in anyway
is that of the 50th power of 2 to unity ; that is,
the probability is greater than eleven hundred and
twenty-five millions of millions to one that all
these circumstances do not turn up even at dis
tinct periods. This computation, however, is in
dependent of the consideration of time. Let it
be recollected farther, that if any one of the spe
cified circumstances happen, it may be the day
after the delivery of the prophecy, or at any pe
riod from that time to the end of the world ; this
will so indefinitely augment the probability
against the cptemporaneous occurrence of merely
these fifty circumstances, that it surpasses the
power of numbers to express correctly the im
mense improbability of its taking place." *
It is hardly necessary to draw the inference,
which Dr. Gregory goes on to establish, that all
probability, and even possibility, of accidental ful
filment, as well as of fraud, must be excluded.
The sole reasonable solution of the question is,
that these predictions and their fulfilments can
* " Letters on the Christian Religion," by Olinthus Gregory, L. L. D.

14
only be ascribed to .the intention of a being, whose
knowledge could foresee future events, uncon
nected with each other, depending on various
contingencies, and the will and acts of free agents ;
or whose power is so omnipotent as to bend to the
accomplishment of his own purpose the pas
sions of multitudes, the ambition of princes, the
studies ofthe wise, the craft ofthe wicked, the
wars, the revolutions, and the varied destinies of
nations. But to this body of evidence we can add far
ther ; —
' 2dly. That resulting from the relatipn which
the history of the civilized world bears to the
prophetic annunciations of its Teacher, Re
deemer, and Sovereign — -and the connection
which the fortunes and revolutions of states and
empires have had with the moral government of
him whose "way is in the whirlwind and the
storm," and who " driveth asunder the nations."
Predictions of events now long past, the re
cords and monuments of which alone remain,
forming the mighty landmarks of history, are
every where most closely interwoven with the
prophetic declaration, of His will, the history of
His revelation, and the destinies of those whom
he had chosen as his people.
Thus, Egypt and Babylon, Tyre and Jerusa
lem, are compelled to rise up from their ruins to

15
give testimony to that truth, which, in the day of
their prosperity, they had rejected.
3dly. In a mysterious and complicated form of
religious ceremonial, and other ordinances es
tablished among the Jewish people, remarkably
and expressively figurative of a future and moral
meaning ; and in a code of civil legislation stri
kingly adapted to preserve testimony, and to per
petuate the oracles of prophecy, as well as to
#guard from corruption or oblivion the ceremonial
and legal rites and figures themselves. For the
civil polity of the Jewish people was completely
interwoven with the history and ritual of their
religion; the evidences and memorials of. their
church and of the titles to private property
were preserved together ; their sacred books were
the law of the land, and the literature of the na
tion. Yet their ritual, splendid, complicated, and
ceremonious, was filled with ordinances which
they were enjoined, by all their revered teach
ers, and by the law itself, to observe with scru
pulous rigour, and to make the subject of their
constant meditation; whilst they were taught
by the same authority that these had no value or
efficacy in themselves. But the singular appli
cability of many of these emblematic ordinances
to the doctrines and the moral , precepts of
Christianity, is such as could not have arisen
from accident; and no parallel coincidence can

16
t>e found to it, existing in the rites of supersti
tion, or in the imagination of enthusiastic writers,
living at remote periods from each other.
4thly. In a secondary, or allusive, or gradually
accomplishing sense of prophecy, analogous to,
and harmonizing with, this emblematic institu
tion, whereby every promise of a temporary na
ture was made the sign and pledge of a more
durable and universal benefit.
This evidence has appeared very powerful to .
many wise and great men, among them to Bacon
and Pascal. But since there has been some con- >
troversy on this head, if we rather choose to
avoid- Connecting the argument with any parti
cular theory of interpretation, we may take it in
a broader and looser sense, and say, that it con
sists in a multiplicity of passages not primarily
referring to the events of the Christian dispensa
tion, but evidently appearing, from their number
and aptitude, to have been purposely so framed as
when those events had occurred, to bear a natu
ral ahd obvious application to them, and thus to
enlarge the utility of the book containing them
from a transitory and local to a universal pur
pose.* These several classes of prophetic evidence
are, it is doubtless to be admitted, of differing

* See note B.

17
degrees of value ; and the direct and positive
prediction is of far the greatest use for refuting
objectors, and inviting and fixing the attention of
the doubting and careless. But that once done,
and the groundwork of our faith firmly laid, the
additional proofs afforded by figurative rites,, and
by indirect or allusive predictiPns, are, from the
clear indications which they afford of one magni
ficent and harmonious plan of revelation, of
greater importance than any increased number
of plainer prophecies : somewhat upon the same
principle as in matters of ordinary human juris
prudence, (in a criminal trial, for instance,) indi
rect testimony, circumstantial evidence, casual
coincidences, agreement of attested faftts to-
known character and opinion, may, in addition
to a certain amount of positive proof, form a
body of testimony infinitely' more conclusive than
would be afforded by any number of witnesses
whatever, all deposing to the same naked facts.
Hence the evidence rises in grandeur and interest,
is more complicated, less within the power of
human art or fraud to have invented, and wholly
beyond the probability of having arisen from any
accidental conjuncture of events. For, if after
finding predictions of a direct and positive char
acter, we observe that there are yet many others
so constructed as not to be of their own interpre-
3

18
tation,* but which, while they were so formed as
to be obscure before tne event; as soon as that
occurred, became clear— is not this precisely
such a body of predictive testimony as we would
most desire, and which would most effectually
exclude the supposition of artful contrivance, as
well as of infatuation and enthusiasm, wilfully
accommodating events to suit accredited predic
tions ?
If the sceptic demands clear and direct pro
phecy, such as would have been understood be
fore its accomplishment, and would lead to an
expectation of the' event— that is at hand-
There are many such passages^ and we know,
from tlie unsuspected and unimpeachable testi
mony of Tacitus and Josephus,: that they did' ex
cite an expectation ofthe approach of some such
events about the time of fulfilment. If (like Gib
bon, in his anonymous Letter to Hurd upon the Pro
phecies of Daniel) he complains that these pre
dictions are so clear as to afford ground for sus
pecting imposture and forgery, other predictions
of another, and again ©f yet another nature, may
* The learned reader will perceive that 1 have adopted Horsley's version
ofthe Apostle's words, _Tj_t tiriMrmt ; but the correctness or incorrectness
of that translation has little connection with the general argument. It may
be worth noting that this interpretation, which is commonly supposed to be
qriginal with Horsley,is to be found in the Opuscula Philologica, Sic. of We-
jensels, a professor at Berne, in.the earlier part of the last: century , a wri
ter little kasivta, but of great good sense.

19
be presented to his examination, some of them of
the kind just described, obscurebefore, and clear
after the fulfilment, and some again more sha
dowy and undefined, somewhat resembling those
hints and allusiPns which the mind of a speaker
or writer, filled with some great and engrossing
contemplation, will unexpectedly.throw out, when
engaged on any other subject of feebler or more
transient interest.
Though, indeed, the chief use of those
indirect and1 circumstantial prophetic attesta
tions, is not to enable the believer to argue
with disputatious opponents ; and it seems to be
a serious logical error, into which some of the
soundest reasoners have occasionally fallen, to
consider them as designed only for combating
the Objections of the sceptic, or for furnishing
plausible grounds of argument with the wilfully
ignoranV°1T?e™w:isc*r"oft,^ei^the argument thus furnished, can hardly be un
derstood but by those who search diligently for
truth, and are willing to embrace it when found ;
nor can its full force be felt, till the revelation it
supports be received as true, or at least as highly
probable. It then thrpws a strong and clear light
upon the unity of its doctrines, the plan of its
development, and the harmony of it's system. It
may, therefore, be vain to offer it to those who will
not look upon any testimony which is not forced

20
upon their attention; and on this subject, as on
many other points of moral evidence, he who is
most rationally, as well as most deeply convinced,
will most readily admit and understand the seem
ing contradiction, that belief of- the doctrine is
necessary to the full understanding pf it^-Credi-
di, ideoqke intellexi,
Much light has been thrown upon the philoso
phy of this prophetic evidence by Hurd ,; in his
Lectures, and by Horsley, in three or four noble
sermons ; and it has been treated of, though not
in a formal and didactic manner, yet with great1
ability, by two illustrious laymen, Pascal in his
Pensees, and by Lord President JForbes, in an
unfinished, essay, in bis posthumous works.
These two great men were trained to habits pf
close reasoning, and of weighing evidence in very
different schools^-the one in the retirement of.
solhajy st_idy^-an_l______t___d-___^
Other in the active pursuits of the law and poli ti-
cal life; but both of them appear to be equally
impressed with the magnitude and grandeur of
this long and various, yet uniform testimony. It
must, however, be confessed, that modern the
ology has, by no means, supplied the deficiency
of which Lprd Bacon complained two centuries
ago, by furnishing a work "in which every pro
phecy of scripture should be sorted with the
event fulfilling the same throughout all ages of

21
the world, both for the better confirmation of the
faith, and the better illumination of the Church,
touching those parts of prophecies which are yet
unfulfilled," This is a work of -which we may still say with
him, " I find a deficiency ; but it is to be done with
wisdom, sobriety, and reverence, or not at all."*
The extensive range of argument and inquiry
which remains after the historical and prophetic
testimony have been separately, considered, has
been commonly summed up under the single
head of Internal Evidence.
Under, this general name, two very distinct spe
cies of evidence are frequently confounded; and
that, too, by some ofthe most accurate thinkers
and reasoners.
The one is that which may be more properly
termed critical evidence, or if the phrase may be
allowed, historical interned evidence. It consists
of those marks of authenticity and those presump
tions of truth and honesty, in any historical or
narrative composition, which arise from Style, lan
guage, or dialect ; from the particularity, natu
ralness, and probability of the narrative ; from
the correspondence and agreement of parts to
each other, and of language, allusions, or opi
nions, to the pfofessed character of the writer or
speaker.
* Advancement of Learning, Book II.

22
The other, and much higher species of in
ternal evidence, and mpre strictly entitled to
that appellation, but which, for. distinction, we
may. term the moral internal evidence, is that
powerful impression of truth arising from the
nature ofthe doctrines themselves, and the char
racter and influence of the dispensation. Con
sidered speculatively, it is founded on the confor
mity ofthe doctrines to enlightened reason and to
truth, either previously known,- or intuitively ac
knowledged as soon as presented — upon their
utility, their beauty, fitness* and moral excel
lence ; and in a more practical point of view, as
relates to our individual reception of them, it
arises from their influence on the affections and
character, their adaptation -to our nature and
wants, and their effect upon, the heart and life.
The former species of evidence resembles that
by which we would judge of the.authenticity and
credit of such a work as those, Orations of Cicero,
which Markland, Wolfius, and other critics, have, tt
from, their style and manner, asserted to be spu
rious, and the work of some ancient rhetorician ;*
or, to take a modern instance, it is argued upon

* The orations, Post Rediru_i,Pro Domo Sua, Ad Quirites, and De Harus-
picum Rcsponsis, though found iri most manuscripts j are, according to the
better opinion of critics, not genuine, though unquestionably of great and
probably of classical antiquity. Wolfius, and other German critics, have
also doubted of the authenticity of the Oration " Pro Marcello."

25
much the same principles upon which English an
tiquarians have, within the last half century, dis
cussed and rejected the spurious plays and poems
forged by Ireland, and ascribed to Shakspeare,
or the still more ingenious fabrications of Chat
terton. Or, to draw an example from the polifi*
cal history of England in a former age, it was on
these principles, connected with such slight ex
ternal testimony as could be found, that English
critics and historians have decided upon the au
thenticity ofthe Icon Basilike, originally publish
ed as the productiPn of King Charles I. but now
generally believed to have been written by Bishop
Gauden. The controversies which have been
carried on-among the historians and critics ofthe
continent of Europe, concerning the authenticity
of the Memoirs of Prince Eugene, ascribed to
himself, and of the Testament Politique of Car
dinal Richelieu, will furnish other examples.*
The other species of evidence resembles, in
nature, (though it is certainly much higher in
degree,) the estimate which the philosophical in
quirer forms ofthe truth or falsehood of an ethi-
* In both these cases there is, I believe, external evidence against the ge
nuineness of these works ; but, on the other hand, it has been urged that if
Richelieu and Prince Eugene did not in fact write these works, their real
Authors must have been men of at least equal talent and.knowledge of the
subject with the alleged authors — which is scarcely probable. It is from
this internal evidence that Say, ia his " Economie Politique," considers
them as genuine.

24
cal or a metaphysical system, as of Smith's Theory
of Moral Sentiments, for instance, or of the doc
trines of Cudworth's Immutable Morality ; where
we draw the materials of our judgment, not from
extrinsic knowledge, but from the first principles
of reason, and the study bf our own minds.
This critical internal evidence necessarily con
sists of many and -minute particulars, every one
of which, singly; is of comparatively little power ;
but which, when they. are made to converge to one
focus, form a full and satisfactory light., The in
quiry has been pursued by different minds, on : ve
ry various principles, and, in fact, embraces two
wholly independent branches of argument. Of
these, one is purely critical, comprehending a
large extent of scholarship and of antiquarian
research, directed and chiefly limited to the
question of the authenticity* of the commonly
received books of scripture, as shown by their
conformity with the style, opinions, manners,
and history of their professed time and- country.
The other, guided- only by good sense and a ge
neral acquaintance with human nature, argues
* Some respectable writers, on subjects of critical inquiry, have distin
guished between the words genuineness and authenticity, referring one to
the character t>f the work, the other to the veracity of its statements. 
Their own use of the word, however, is contradictory; and there- is no
authority in good English usage "for the distinction : these words being
constantly used as synonymous. The true distinction is between the aut hen.'
ticily of a writing and its credibility.

25
boldly and directly from the coherence of the
narrative, and the manner of narration, to the
probable truth of the facts related, and thence
backward to the genuineness of the books. Most
ofthe first part of Dr. Lardner's great work on
the Credibility of the Gospel History, relates
mainly and primarily to the former question ;
while no better model of the manner iri which
investigations ofthe other kind should be carried
on, can be given, than that most original, inge
nious, and well reasoned work of Paley, the Horse
Paulina., in which he proves the veracity of St.
Paul, and ofthe historian of his early labours, from
their unaffected circumstantiality in narrating, and
in transiently and naturally alluding to facts, and
the indirect, and evidently undesigned coinci
dences which are scattered over their writings.
All such investigations, on whatever principles
they are conducted, end in presenting to us ,a
complication of probabilities, which can be ac
counted for, by the candid and diligent inquirer,
upon one supposition only, that of the genuine<-
ness and truth of the narrative.
Nevertheless, it must be allowed, that the as
sent thus produced, though it may be full and un-
doubting, is yet comparatively cold and feeble,
and were there no other ground than this for our
reception of revealed truth, it would probably be
received much as wq receive historical accounts
4

26
of past ages and distant countries ; as being valu
able and curious information— as being truth cer*
tainly, but not as truth Coming directly home to
our personal interests, sympathies, and duties.
This evidence, too, is limited in its application,
being addressed to comparatively but a few : to
the scholar versed in languages and antiquities-!-
to the general reader, somewhat accustomed to
compare styles, and judge of probability and con
sistency — or to the reasoner and man of observa
tion, trained by the discipline of professional stu
dies, of active habits of business, or at least of
the varied commerce of life, in some degree to
examine evidence, to arialyze character, to sift
out and weigh all those indications of veracity and
honesty, which influence the judgment of men
towards each other in society. The other spe
cies, which is that, moral evidence arising from
the manner of teaching, and the character of the
doctrines taught, is of a grander and nobler na
ture, as well as of a far broader utility.
It addresses itself, not to the scholar, the critic,
the practised and sharp-sighted inquirer into hu
man conduct and motives; but to man, as a
moral being, as an accountable creature, as pos
sessing certain common and universal principles
of reason, feeling and conscience.
I will not here enlarge upon this subject, be
cause its importance demands a separate and

27
more minute examination of its character. My
chief object in this Essay, is to call the atten
tion of the reader, to the fact of the remarkable
, variety of the several classes of the evidences of
revelation, and of the numerous and diversified
particulars of which each class is composed, and
to show how strikingly they are adapted to invite
the examination, and to instruct the reason, of
men of all ranks of intellect and acquirement :
provided, only, that they be examined with dili
gence, attention, candour, and a fair use of that
sort and degree of knowledge within the reach of
every individual. For this is a condition upon
which the discovery of all moral truth seems
more or less suspended ; a condition founded on
the moral nature of man, and uniformly asserted
in the revelation itself.'
Now, from all this variety, thus harmonizing
in one united attestation to the same facts, re
sults a very peculiar, and, to my mind, a very im
pressive argument.
Let us suppose every distinct head of proof to
be much weaker than it really is— ^or, taking the
case of any individual, let us suppose, that from
want of knowledge, from preconceived opinions,
prejudices of education, or any other cause which
may tend to cloud the judgment— any or all of
these several arguments, though appearing, as
they must, in no inconsiderable degree probable,

28
should yet seem to him to lie open to very seri
ous objections, and to labour under difficulties
which he is wholly unable to remove.
Nevertheless, unless he allows the religion to
be true, so far at any rate as relates to its funda
mental facts, how can he possibly account for the
existence of so many different probabilities, what
ever he may think of their fprce singly, yet all
uniting upon one great argument, and hearing
witness in corroboration of each other. If he
does not admit the substantial truth of the reli
gion, must he not literally Pmbrace the rhetorical
paradox of Rousseau, and confess that the in
ventors of such a narrative were more miraculous
than the hero .
Is there any doubtful historical relation so cor
roborated. Any other religious .creed so sup
ported. Any , ethical or philosophical system of
human inventipn so evidenced I Arguing, then,
from the common laws of belief, can he conceive
possible that all these, so many and such different
kinds of probabilities, (even if some of them should
be but faint and inconclusive,) have yet been heap
ed together from so many quarters, without any
real foundation in truth— rthat such an unparalleled
conjunction of the ordinary marks of veracity;
should have thus unaccountably been brought
together, to give credit and currency to a mass
pf fraudulent or enthusiastic delusions .

29
We well know, that in the ordinary affairs of
life, as (amongst many other instances which will
naturally occur to any reader) in matters of judi
cial investigation, there is frequently a ' literally'
irresistible weight of conviction accumulated from
the combination of a great number of witnesses, no
single one of whom, from want of general intelli
gence, or of acquaintance with the peculiar cir
cumstances ofthe case, or even of fair character,
could be considered as entitled to the highest cre
dit. If such a combination be without any suspi
cion of fraud and compact, the evidence becomes
perfectly conclusive. How much more should this
be conceded, when the corroborations come from
such very distant quarters, so unconnected with
each other, and even so hostile ; so impossible to
have been fraudulently arranged by artifice ; and
above all, when each of these peculiar heads of
confirmation comprises an innumerable multi
tude of particulars ; some of them of great direct
ness, and simplicity, and power, while others are
very slight and indirect — and, if taken singly,
scarcely amount to a probability, except that they
show conclusively, and more conclusively than
stronger testimony, the natural and inartificial
character of the whole evidence .
It is true that there are minds, and some of them
in no ordinary degree vigorous and acute, upon
whom this chain of reasoning may have but little

30
effect. There are some thinking men, who, in
whatever inquiry they may be engaged, seize
boldly on a single, strong, or prominent point of
the question, and are not willing to leave it for any
other. It is rarely, however, that this can be done.
without some hazard of error, or at least without
danger of overlooking some valuable truth; and it
is more commonly the characteristic of a presump
tuous, than of a powerful intellect. The history of
all human science, and more especially of moral
and metaphysical opinion, will show very amply
how large a portion of the most dangerous false
hood, and unsound speculation, which have pre
vailed in the world, has arisen from partial and
desultory glances, and from the want of that
" universality of contemplation," which Lord Ba
con long ago noted as the main source of error
in opinion, as well in physical, as in moral inqui
ries. Nor is this, as may seem at the first glance, an
argument requiring deep and extensive learning
to estimate rightly, and therefore of course not
at all fitted for popular use. On the contrary,
it is founded on a process of reasoning of daily
use in the occurrences of common life : such,
for instance, as every juryman employs in de
ciding upon a complicated and, contested cause.
The materials of it must be partly taken upon
competent authority by many, and are partly

31
within the reach of all ; and the inference is plain
and immediate, and may be combined and de
duced at once by common sense. To compre
hend its bearing, it is by no means necessary to
be able tp weigh accurately the value of every
individual point of the historical and antiquarian
proof, or the force of all the reasoning which it
includes. It only requires that degree of know
ledge which is possessed by most persons of or
dinary information, or at least may be possessed
by them ; for much of the ignorance on these
subjects, among all classes in our state of soci
ety, arises from wilful inattention. It only re
quires us tp know, that there is a large historical
evidence to Christianity, which, though some men
of no contemptible learning and ability have la
boured to overthrow it, has commanded the assent
of virtuous and di&interestqd men — men of busi
ness as well as of learning. That there is a pro
phetic testimony, which, though it is in part ob
scure, in part liable to controversy, in part requiring
attentive study to comprehend^ and in part ap
parently yet unaccomplished,, may, in its general
outline and prominent partst be sufficiently un
derstood from the ordinary instruction from the
pulpit, or gathered from the most popular and
elementary treatises — that there is an appear
ance of natural and unstudied truth in the style
and manner of the Gospels and Epistles, of which

32
those features, depending upon ai* acquaintance
with the language and manners of antiquity have
been repeatedly examined by the learned, whilst
the stronger marks of honesty and sincerity in
manner may be estimated by any man of good
sense and common observation. Finally, it
demands of us to turn our attention to the evi
dence arising from the character of the Christian
religion, its morality, its devotion, its agreement
with the truths of our own hearts — of all evi
dences the most within our reach, and yet the
most difficult to attend to.
The more all or any of these truths are exam
ined and studied, so much the more numerous
arid cogent will they appear ; but a very general
and superficial view of them, if it be but an unpre
judiced one, will show the existence of many such
points of evidence, which, if not irresistible, all
possess at least some degrpe of probability.
If this be so, no prudent and no honest man
should turn contemptuously from this evidence;
because, to his understanding, or his imperfect
knowledge, no single part of it seems conclusive,
without first attending to the concurrent power
of the whole.
It is for this purpose, that when we have tho
roughly digested, and familiarized to our minds
the historical and prophetic arguments in proof of
Christianity, and have in the same manner satis-

33
fied ourselves in the study of the innumerable
points which compose and fortify its other heads
of moral demonstration, it is highly useful to re
tire back* as it were, from this minute inspection,
to such a general and comprehensive survey as
allows us to take in at once the distinct outlines
of all, and observe how they severally harmonize,
both in their various component parts, and with
each other. Then, to use the language of Pope,
though with a more elevated, as well as a more
practical meaning, than ever entered into the
poet's philosophy, we shall perceive that, in reve
lation, as in the other works of God,
Nothing is foreign — parts relate to whole ;
One all-extending, all-preserving soul
Connects all being— nothing stands alone ',.
The chain holds on, and where it ends, unknown.
Prophecy announces the advent of the religion
of Jesus ; History records its progress ; Lite
rature and Criticism combine to attest to the
muniments of its doctrines : but its surest wit
nesses are to be found in man's own breast — in
the grandeur of his thoughts — in the lowness of
his desires — in the aspirations which lift him to
wards the heavens — in the vices which weigh
him to the earth — in his sublime, his inexplica
ble conceptions of Infinity and Eternity — in his
humiliating experience of folly, misery, and guilt.

ESSAY IL
Pf the Power of Human Reason to judge of tl\e Internal
Evidence of Truth in the Doctrines and Precepts of
Religion.
As far as we can distinctly trace the manner
in which Christianity has commended itself to
the obedience and affections of its disciples in
these later ages, whether we look to the history
of its triumphs over pagan superstition, or ob
serve the grounds upon which the great body of
sincere but unlearned Christians amongst our
selves rest their belief, it will be found that, so
far as religion is an object of the reason, (and
where it is genuine it must be so to some extent
in all men) its internal evidence, or, that cha
racter of truth and excellence impressed upon
its greater and more prominent doctrines and
precepts, forms, to most persons, the chief source
of rational conviction, and their firmest ground
of reliance. Yet it is very remarkable that seve
ral writers, and some of them among the ablest
and most zealous defenders of our faith, have, in
stating the proofs of our religion, either passed
by in silence, or else explicitly and decidedly

36
rejected, all reference to this head of evidence.
Taking this opinion in its full extent, and in the
unqualified manner in which it has frequently
been stated, it has always appeared to me to be
in plain contradiction to common sense, and to all
observation and experience. But as the erro^
neous opinions of wise and honest men upon
important subjects of moral and theological
speculatiorif are seldom wholly unmixed with
some portion of truth, and are very often the ex
tremes and excess of right rather than positively
wrong, it is certainly an interesting and may be
a useful inquiry to examine the reasons of this
rejection, and to see whether it be not founded
in part upon sound principles — >whe ther'the argu
ments by which it is supported do not involve, "or
lead to some valuable truth; and if so, how far,
and with what limitations, it may be safe to adopt
or modify this conclusion.
The latest, and at present the best known and
most popular of these writers, is Dr. Chalmers,
w^a has devote -Itprthe^onsideration of this ques
tion, a whole chapter of his eloquent and ingenious
essay on the "Evidence and Authenticity of the.
Christian Revelation," besides frequently touching
upon it Pr alluding to it in other parts of his work.
He appears to be so fully satisfied with the over
whelming force and abundance of the historical
argument, and at the same time so deeply im-

37
pressed with the sense ofthe impotence and vain
wanderings of human reason, whenever it aspires
to sit in judgment upon the ways of God to man,
and to theorize upon, or to anticipate by conjee-^
ture, the laws of its Author's providence and gov- :
ernment, that he boldly and decidedly hurries on ,
to the conclusion of disclaiming all support from
what is commonly understood by the internal
evidences of revelation.
" We can reason," says he, " upon the proce
dure of man in given circumstances, but we have
no experience of God. .We can reason upon the
procedure of man in given circumstances, because
that is an accessible subject, and comes under the
cognizance of observation; but we cannot reason
on the procedure of the Almighty in given circum
stances. That is an inaccessible subject, and
comes not within the limits of direct and per
sonal observation. We must take our lesson as
it comes to us, provided we are satisfied before
hand that it comes from an authentic source. We
must set up no presumption of our own against
the authority of the, unquestionable evidence that
we have, and reject all suggestions which our de
fective experience can furnish, as the follies of a
rash and fanciful speculation." " It is not for
man to assume what is right, or proper, or natu
ral, for the Almighty to do. It is not in the mere

38
spirit of piety that we say so — it is in the spirit
ofthe soundest experimental philosophy."*
These views Dr. Chalmers dilates upon and
enforces at large, with his usual fervid and copi
ous logic ; arguing from the principles of the
Baconian philosophy, which teaches that, as man
is ignorant of all things antecedent to observa
tion, it is upon observation alone that triie sci
ence can ever be founded — from the errors into
which the mind blindly plunges the moment it
ceases to observe, and begins to excogitate or
to theorize — from the past and the present
state of all human science, experimentally wit
nessing and proving this humiliating but salu
tary truth. Thence he infers that, if caution
and humility be esteemed philosophical when
employed in our narrow field of investigation, in
this low nook of the universe, and " upon this
little bank and shoal of time," they should be
thought equally so when exercised upon a sub
ject so vast, so awful, and so remote from direct
and personal observation as the govermrient of
God ; and that it is accordingly in direct hostility
to all true wisdom for beings of a day to assume
to sit in judgment upon the Eternal, and to ap
ply their paltry experience to the counsels of his
unfathoriiable wisdom. He therefore maintains
''  " ' '  ' ' ¦¦¦¦¦ — ¦-¦; A
* Chalmer's Evidence and Authenticity , ch. viii.

39
the total insufficiency of natural reason to pro
nounce upon the intrinsic merits of any revela
tion ; but holds that the authority of Christianity
must rest exclusively upon its " external eviden
ces, and upon such marks of honesty in the his
torical portions of its sacred books as would ap
ply to any human composition." " In discussing
this evidence," says he, " we walk by the light of
experience. We assign the degree of weight
that is due to the testimony of the first Christian
upon the observed principles of human action."
He argues, too, from the abuse of the mode of
reasoning which he opposes, and shows how na
turally it leads sceptical men of talents, science,
and literature, to reject revelation because it
teaches certain doctrines abhorrent to their pre
conceived notions, their vanity, or their taste,
though confessedly confirmed by outward tes
timony, which they themselves admit to be won
derfully strong. " But on a subject so much
above us and beyond us, we should never think
of opposing any preconception to the evidence
of history. We should maintain the humility
of the inductive spirit. We should offer our
mind as a blank surface to every thing that comes
to them supported by unexceptionable evidence.
It is not from the nature of the facts themselves
that we would pronounce upon their credibility,
but from the nature of that testimony by which
they are supported."

40
Dr. Chalmers was led to these conclusions by
arguing on the system and in the spirit of the
Scotch school of metaphysicians, who have ap
plied, probably too exclusively, the principles
of Lord Bacon's philosophy of observation and
experiment to the study of the mind, and the
investigation of moral truth, professing to reject
all a priori reasoning as useless, if not presump
tuous." In this peculiar train of thought he is
original ; otherwise he is by no means the first,
who has advanced these opinions.
They have been zealously maintained at vari
ous times, during the two last centuries, by writers
of great talent and learning, both clerical and lay;
and it is not a little remarkable, too, by men en
tertaining the most opposite views, well consist
ent with a common acknowledgment of the au
thority of the Christian revelation, who have
supported them from the most dissimilar motives,
and with the most contradictory arguments.
Some scholars and philosophers, suspicious of
every thing that they feared might give colour
and countenance to enthusiasm, and anxious to
place the authority of revelation upon the same
foundation of solid reason and distinct outward
evidence upon which we build our faith in histo
ry, and our judgment in most of the affairs of
life, have argued as if the human intellect could
judge accurately only pf two classes of reasoning,

.*- 41
that of strict mathematical demonstration, and
that founded upon the observation of palpa
ble arid material objects, and the experience of
life ; and they have therefore been led to believe
that all inferences drawn from the cPnsciousness
of our own individual, moral naturp, and especially
from our feelings and wishes, hopes, sorrows and
fears, must be often fanatical, .and always uncer
tain, if not wholly fallacious. Hence it is that
the learned Le Clerc tells us, that whatever faith
is at- this day in the world among Christians, de
pends purely upon the testimony pf men.* His
illustrious cotemporary and friend, John Locke, in
some passages ofthe Essay on the Human Un
derstanding, seems occasionally to lean to the
same opinion, (which is in fact very riiuch in unison
with his metaphysical doctrines, as to the origin
of ideas, and the general tone and spirit of his
philosophy) although elsewhere he argues ably
and confidently from the internal evidence afford
ed by the purity ofthe morality and the reasona
bleness of the doctrines of Christianity.
On the other hand, this very same conclusion
has been still more warmly maintained by many
excellent men, who, full of zeal and reverence
for the peculiar doctrines of the Gospel, were fir-

* I quote Le Clerc at second-hand, and cannot refer to the passage or
work. ,6

42 -.
ed with a holy" indignation at the intrusion Of
speculative ethics; and metaphysical subtleties,
so often fallacious and unsubstantial, and always
of little practical edifibation, into the public, teach
ing of Christian divines-Msometimes thus direct
ly and openly mingling Tsrith and corrupting the
most iriipprtant revealed truths ; but much often
er silently usurping their place and peculiar office
and honours. ~
They have therefore asked " the men of
morals, nurtured in the shades of Academus," in
the indignant language of Cowper : —
h Christ the abler teacher, or tlie schools ? ,
If Christ, then Why ; resort at every turn • '
To Athens or to Rome, for wisdom short - .
Of man's occasions, when in Him reside
Grace, knowledge, cOmfortW-ahunfathomed store ?
, How oft when Paul has served us with a text,
Has Epictetus, Plato, Tully preached !
This was the feeling which animated Dr. Pat
ten, Bishop Home, Jones of Nayland, and other
divines of the Hutchinsonian schopl, in the con
troversy which arose at Oxford about the middle
of the last century, and which was maintained fbr
some time with great warmth by these writers on
the one side, and on the other by Dr. Kennicot,
the celebrated biblical critic, and other men Pf
ability and note in their day. This controversy
has long ago passed into oblivion ; but I have
referred to it as well to mark the history of opi-

43
nion, and to show that Dr. Chalmers is not singu
lar in his views, as because Home and his friends,
have, from their great sincerity and learning, and
their many amiable qualities, exercised, and
on. most accounts, very deservedly exercised, a
great .influence over the religious opinions of
Great Britain — extending far beyond the circle of
those who can be strictly considered as belong
ing to the same school; and which is to this day
clearly discernible.
They maintained, as Dr. Chalmers does, though
not precisely for the same reasons, that the Chris
tian rehgion, so, far as it is recommendable to the
understanding, stands solely upon the foundation
of miracles wrought, and prophecies fulfilled,
which, when plainly alleged upon the warrant of
sacred history, demand an implicit assent to
the doctrines they are adduced to confirm;, and
therefore supersede all abstract speculation, all
- reasonings, d priori, concerning fitness, proba
bility, grounds and reasons of utility, or the
correspondence of the: doctrines with the com
mon notions of *nen on the principles of, what
these divines decidedly and unqualifiedly hold to
be, a supposed natural- religion. This they as
serted, "not, says one of their ablest reasoners,*
because they judged it right to admit any propo.
.. /.. . . ' ? lix, Pattqsi,

44
sition as true, upon any authority whatsoever,
which is really and' manifestly contrary to fitness
or common sense, nor because human reason is
blind or powerless 5 but because, in all reasonings
concerning the fitness, wisdom, justice, goodness,
of any supposed procedure, human reason is ne
cessarily weak from the want of proper data,
however strong within its proper sphere ; as an
eagle's eye would be weak if it should attempt to
look into the kingdom of heaven."
High as is the. authority for these doctrines,
there is still a very far greater and more uniform
weight of opinion on the opposite side, from the
days ofthe earliest Christian apologists, down to
our own times.
The character and efficacy of this religion
have been always relied upon, and continually
urged as presenting the most cogent and persua
sive argument for its authority and reception, as
well by almost all divines, essayists, and writers
of popular and hortatory theology, as by those who,
like Arnobius and Lactantius among the ancients,
or Grotius, Pascal, and Addisofi among the moT
derns, have written expressly upon its evidences,
But although the deliberate opinions of the wise
and good are always entitled to respect, and the
agreement of many of them must generally fur
nish a strong prima facie proof, if not of cer
tain truth, yet clearly of probability; still {hip

45
is a question which should not be decided by
authority alone, since we have the means of
judging for ourselves within our power, about us
and' within us.
This is a subject which-, while it involves the
highest principles of mental philosophy, is of the
most extensive and the most practical importance.
Let us examine it, then, not in the spirit of con
troversy, but with the honest hope of being able
to extract from apparently jarring opinions that
portion of truth which each of them may contain.
There is, without question, in these remarks of
Chalmers and others -who think with him, a great
deal of most valuable truth, well calculated to
sober the mind, by making it sensible of its own
weakness, and thus to check that presumptuous
philosophy, or spurious theology, which, after
admitting the message of revelation in general
terms, goes on to pick and cull from its contents,
and to say upon its own authority, "this fact or
doctrine is true and divine, while that is to be
rejected as improbable."
It is clearly of the very nature of revelation,
that it must be of ^omething not previously
known, and not discoverable by unaided reason ;
and man's hypothetical conjectures concerning
the being and government of his Maker, are, and
must be, wilder and more distant from the truth
than those of a child* respecting the methods and

46
causes of the deepest plans of policy, or the most.
complicated or stupendous works of human art,
invention or science. If every observation of our
own nature, and all our trials of our own powers
in the way of invention or of speculation, did not
at once teach us this humbling lesson, the history
of physical and astronomical science would afford
an unanswerable and practical demonstration of
it, in the long series of systems in chemistry, me
dicine, astronomy— in short, in every department
of natural knowledge, which, were founded upon
pure hypothesis, and to our limited comprehen
sion appeared at the .first glance highly, satis
factory, and sufficient to account for all the phe
nomena, until, enlightened by a wider observation,,
of nature itself, we, saw their perfect absurdity.
. No where is there a more signal demonstration
of this great truth, than in the. science of inedi-
cine. That has* been from very early ages, a learned
profession, filled with ingenious men, anxious to
extend the bounds of human science, and aus-
merit the power of their own art. The field of
inquiry, though of the deepest interest to all, and
though submitted to our closest and most minute
inspection, is comparatively narrow ; yet it is
said by those who have most accurately traced
the history ofthe healing art, that of all the disco
veries which have crowned the labours of the

47
anatomist, and the researches of the physiologist,
not a single one has been the direct result bf
hypothetical reasoning. .
Analogy, from observed ¦ facts, guided by that
general presumption of the unity and simplicity
of the laws of nature, which it is the uniform
tendency of Scientific investigation to excite arid
confirm, has sometimes, it is true, created an indis
tinct expectation of those laws which were afterr
wards found really to exist ; but it wTas humble
and diligent observation alone that collected and
arranged the great and sohd acquisitions of
science ; while in its sure though slow progress,
it sternly demolished theory after theory, which
philosophical speculation had framed as to the
probable structure, the uses, and governing laws
ofthe human frame.
If reason is then thus powerless in her specu
lations upon the laws of that little part of the
material world most immediately subject to her
own government, inspection and experiment,
' how should she dare to frame a conjecture as to
what is or ought to be the character of an eter
nal and infinite plan of moral government?
When this plan is in part unfolded to her study,
with sufficient attestation of its truth, (no matter
of what nature,) she has dearly no right to re
ject any portion of it, because it may not iri any
way conform to her own past experience, or be-

48
cause the wisdom of it cannot be. distinctly
traced, or every plausible difficulty at once .re
moved. Whatever fac.ts are sufficiently proved
it is her duty to receive. And if this be, so* does
it not follow that it is equally presumptuous and
foolish to attempt to form any judgment what
ever upon the essential truth and value of a reve
lation when it is offered to us ? Qught we not,
and must we not confine ourselves strictly to the
examination ofthe external testimony with which
it is accompanied ?
; This inference does not by any means neces
sarily follow. The conclusion is too, broad. For,
it must be remembered, on the other hand, that
this same faculty of reason by which we judge of
the force and value pf testimony, and by which
we resolve the multiplied", facts collected by our
observation and experience into general laws, has
yetother and higher objects^ and uses, and enables
us to discpver various important relations — rela
tions not gathered from external observation, bUt
which the mind develops in the exercise of its ^
native powers — besidesthose of probable andcon-
tingent truth. That, among these, are many bear
ing the acknowledged impress of immutability and
of universal obligation, of certain and necessary
existence) of right and wrong. That although we
could not, dp riori, before the observation Pf nature
or the revelations of religion, anticipate the course

49
of either, yet, when the knowledge of God's laws,
whether material or moral, is once brought to
our minds, we have the power of perceiving much,
though certainly but a part, of their fitness, their
beauty, and their utility. That we know, and
are conscious, that " there is a light given to
every man that cometh into the world," and a
" law written upon the hearts of all," and how
ever feeble and imperfect the knowledge which
we gain from these may be, they are still so far a
species of natural revelation, and cannot there
fore but be in strict consonance with a fuller and
brighter manifestation of the divine wisdom, be
stowed in another manner.
All of us have natural ideas of justice and
moral excellence, and we are capable of intui
tive perceptions of mariy other truths, far beyond
the possible range of our observation. The no
tion of time once awakened in our minds, swells
of itself into that of measureless eternity — space
expands without bounds into an incomprehensible
infinity; all existence proclaims to us the necessary
pre-existence of some antecedent and intelligent
cause ; the ideas of unbounded wisdom and pow
er, spontaneously spring up with the exercise of
our faculties ; we are compelled to form moral
estimates of ourselves and our actions, partial
and obscure, it is true, but such as to awaken the
conception of guilt, and the instinctive sense of
7

50
accountability; our consciences bear witness,
and our thoughts " accuse or else excuse one
another." In spite of all this, the imaginations
of men are left at liberty tp frame, and always
have framed for themselves, codes of ethics and
Systems of religious belief, such as would best
conform to their vices, or flatter their pride, or
sooth. their apprehensions. But however and
whenever Truth appears in its might and glory,
though man's vices may impel him to fly from
her light, and to close his ear to, her voice, she
comes not as an utter stranger. There are prin
ciples pf reason — there is a living monitor of con
science within, to which she can appeal, and
which will confess, her presence and acknow
ledge her authority, although they cannot compel
the will to yield to her sway.
These are in themselves vague, unimpressive,
and wholly unconnected, either with each other,
or with the practical springs of action in our na
ture, until by some other power they become em
bodied into a congruous form, and are rendered
active, present and efficient. Still, they are natu
rally in the mind and belonging to it ; if not innate,
they yet are certainly natural ; and they prepare
and enable us to comprehend revelation, and to
perceive at once the intrinsic evidence of much of
its truth.
This, by the way, seems to me the true
idea of what moral philosophers have termed

. 5.1
Natural Religion, the very existence of which
has been strenuously denied by some divines,
It is not, as many philosophers have held, that
there is really a self-evident system of religion,
imperfect, indeed, but true and pure so far as it
goes, to which all men, by the natural use of their
faculties, actually do or easily may attain. All ex
perience, all. history refutes .such an opinion.
Whole nations, wise and enlightened in other
matters, have lived for ages in darkness, and fal
len down before idols, and celebrated them with
loathsome pr abominable rites; whilst the philoso
pher who could throw aside the base supersti-i
tions pf his age or country, when he launched into
. the vast ocean of metaphysical or even ethical
speculation, was tossed about by every wave
of doubt. "Doubting, hesitating, casting around
anxious glances of perplexity and fear, my
mind is tossed about without power to direct
its course in the vast and shoreless ocean of
uncertainty,"* is the feeling and eloquent conr
fession of Cicero, describing his own specula
tions upon the state of the soul after death ;
and it is a true picture of the best efforts of un
assisted humeri philosophy. Still it is just as
evident that there are principles or powers in
the natural constitution of the intellect which en-

* " Dubitans, circumspectans, hesitans, multa adversa revertens, tan
quam in rate in mari immenso nostra vehitur oratio,'' Cicero.

52
able it to apprehend certain sublime truths rela-
tirigtothe being1, attributes, and moral lawsof God,
when they are offered to its consideration, either
by revelation, hy tradition, or riiore imperfectly
by the workings of its' own thoughts, suggest
ed by experience and the' course of nature and
life : since, without these natural principles of re
ligion, or, to speak more correctly, without this
natural power of understanding certain truths,
they could never, by any power of definition or
logic, or the observation of external nature, be
at all brought within the sphere of our compre
hension. But when once introduced into the mind,
these truths remain there fixed and unalterable ;
not, Without other aid, excluding erroneous or
absurd opinions ; but neither are they ever over
shadowed by them. For thus, even in the wild
est dreams of Asiatic superstition or the gross
est polytheism of antiquity, the ideas of an alk
poWerful first cause, and of future accountability
to his judgment and laws, have always kept its
place. Moreover, men seldom look much into their
own breasts ; and when they do, they soon turn
impatiently from an examination which affords
them but little pleasure. But that religion which
speaks much of man's internal character, and his
moral situation and history, and declares many

53
and deeply interesting circumstances and facts
relating to them, which he had never before
attended toy so far submits its claims to his judg
ment, and enables and invites him to confirm or
refute them, by the comparison of his nature with
the pictures which she gives of it. While, there
fore, conscience, memory and observation here
furnish the materials for the inquiry, it is the
privilege and duty of reason to decide on the con
sistency and truth of this internal evidence, whilst
it is our duty to guard well, lest the passions do
not thrust her from the judgment seat.
There is an obvious distinction (which has
yet been frequently overlooked, and this has
given rise to much of the doubt existing on this
subject) between the power of discovering truth,
and that of examining and decidirig upon it when
offered to our judgment.
In matters of human science, to how few is
the one given, and how common is the other.
Look at that vast mass of mathematical inven
tion and demonstration, which has been carried
on by gifted minds in every age, in continual
progress, from the days of the learned priesthood
of ancient Egypt, to those of the discoveries of
La Place and La Grange. Who is there of the
mathematicians of this generation, who could be
selected as capable of alone discovering all this
prolonged and'continuous chain of admirable de-

54
monstration. If left ta their own unaided re
searches, how far would the original and invent
tive. genius of Newton or Pascal have carried
them1? Yef we know that all this hody of sci
ence, this magnificent accumulation of the patient
labours of so many intellects may be examined,
and rigorously scrutinized in every step, and
finally completely mastered and familiarized tp
the understanding in a few years' study, by a stu
dent, who, trusting solely to his own mind, could
never have advanced* beyond the simplest ele-:
ments of geometry. >.> ,
This reasoning may he applied, either direct
ly or by fair analogy, to. every part pf o iir know .
ledge of the laws of nature or of mind, and
it therefore seems to be neither presumptuous
nor unphilosophical, but, on the contrary, in strict
accordance with the soundest analogical reason
ing to maintain, that though " the world by
wisdom could not know Gpd," yet, that so far
forth as he reveals himself tp men> and calls up
on them to receive and obey that revealed will, he
has giyen to them faculties, by no means com
pelling, but yet enabling them to understand
his revelation, to perceive its truth, excellence
and beauty, and to become sensible of their own
wants of its instruction, as well as to estimate
that extrinsic human testimony hy which it may
be supported or, attended.

55
Nor is man, in the conduct of life and the dis
cernment of any of' those principles which de
mand and are entitled to have an efficient control
over his character, left solely to the guidance of
his reasoning faculty. There are given to him
other moral lights to guide him on the journey
of life — other capacities and endowments, often
enabling him to outstrip the slow and hesitating
conclusions of his understanding — warm sympa
thies, social affections, feelings of gratitude, vene
ration and devotion ; and when, in some dread
pause ofthe feverish tumult of life, he withdraws
his attention from without, and turns it upon him
self, conscience awakens shame, sorrow, remorse
and fear. All these, gross ignorance or brutal
(sensuality may keep inactive and asleep ; they
may be wilfully disregarded in the tumult of the
passions, or may be' driven from the mind by
vicious habits : yet, still, they are a constituent
part of man's nature, and were bestowed upon
him as some of the means to conduct him to
truth and% virtue. Can it then well be, that
when the highest duties and the riiost momentous
truths are presented to his acceptance, these prin
ciples should be wholly inoperative ? Can it be,
that in the revelation to man, not merely of his
Maker's will, but of his own relation to him, and
of the mysterious history of that relation, there
should be nothing to which the sentiments and

56
sympathies of our breasts are responsive ? No
thing to awaken the affections or to touch the
heart ?
Ah ! surely not— surely if such a religion be
really true, it may be felt, as well as understood,
by those for whom it was designed. ¦
Now, the existence of such a congruity be
tween the faith so proposed, and our purest and
truest sentiments, in addition to its direct influ
ence upon the affections; constitutes an, argument
forcibly addressed to the understanding. It
shows the adaptation of means to the end, the
fitness of the religion to man's uses, its tenden
cy to purify his heart, subdue his vices, and pro
mote his happiness and excellence. It proves
that it came from him who made man, and whe
knows what is in him.
Nor does it afford any sound or valid argument
on the opposite side, in contradiction to this tes
timony, that there are also deeply and thorough
ly interwoven in man's nature, many other prin
ciples of action, many appetites, sentiments, dis
positions and passions, in utter and active hos
tility to the requirements, and even to the theory
of all true religion and revealed morality. The
power of such principles, mpst frequently, is
much too great to be opposed by other gentler
and better affections, or to submit to the sway of
reason. But the authority due to these several

57
springs of action, is by no means to be measured
by their relative power. There is an inexorable
monitor within our breasts which sternly decides
upon these claims, and which, whilst it often
yields without a struggle to the worst and
basest tendencies of our nature, is never wholly
unable to give us information as to their true
character. In the discipline of life, our selfish or
our animal propensities, are constantly rushing in
to fierce collision with our moral sentiments, and
almost as constantly mastering them ; but in this
conflict the true characters of both are developed
to the mind, and if we do not abuse or stupify
our faculties of discerning right and wrong, we
are able to approve, intellectually at least, of
every thing that commends itself to our better
affections, and to see the evil of that in which we
may yet continue to take pleasure.
, Finally, to resort tp the sure test of facts, it is
certain that neither the historical nor the critical
argument is substantially that upon which the
faith of the great body of Christians in all ages
has rested.* The ordinary and settled govern
ment of Providence has offered these grounds of
conviction to only a limited class of society.
They require some previous reading, a tolerable,
* This is allowed by Dr. Chalmers, in the preface to his Kssay, and it is
difficult to reconcile his remarks there with the unqualified argument
in th. body of the work, 8'

58
if not a very high degree of skill in history and
antiquity, in the inquiring into testimony, and in
the judgment of motives and character. All this,
in the present state of society, cannot be the lot of
Very many. How then does the unlettered Chris
tian judge of the truth of his religion ? Must he
rely blindly and implicitly upon the authority of
his teacher . Can he rest with undoubting confi
dence Upon his own transient and irregular, how
ever sincere and fervent, devotional feelings ?
In short, does his reason'remain wholly useless and
inactive in thismost momentous decision? If
we believe in the religion, can we reasonably
think this tp be the case ? Why is he called up
on to receive that which he has no means of
knowing to be true? He has Moses and the pro-
phetsln his hands, but why should he hearken to
their teaching, since it is thus impossible that he
should " know of their doctrine whether it be of
God?" It is true that a statement of the historical and
prophetic proof may be, and often has. been, pre
sented to the unlearned, in clear and succinct
summaries : such as that beautiful model of lucid
and powerful popular argument in the little tract
of Leslie, which has been mentioned in a former
Essay. But how does the illiterate Christiari
ju(|ge whether the, facts upon which these argu
ments are founded are true ? How does he know

59
whether the books so cited are not forged or fal
sified ? Should a sceptic, of his own attainments,
(such as who that has been an attentive observer
of society,, either here or in Great Britain, has •
not often seen ?) armed with some few of the trite,
common-place objections and difficulties which
have been hundreds of times repeated, and almost
as often refuted, talk to him of priestcraft, and
forgery, and fraud, whither is his mind to turn for
satisfaction, if he has no other substantial ground
of reason to rest upon? It requires, to be sure, no
great share of knowledge to understand the
whole chain of external^testimony ; and without
any portion of what is called scholarship, persons
of both sexes of that rank" of general acquirement
and cultivation very common in our age and
nation, may feel the whole force of Paley's or
Chalmers' historical arguments, and comprehend
the full weight of the several authorities, and
hardly want a prompter to detect the futility of
the sneers, doubts, and objections of Voltaire or
Paine. But I am not speaking of such persons.
I speak of the thousands and hundreds of thou
sands of people in the past, the present, and pro
bably in many future generations, for whose in
struction this revelation was intended, to whose
acceptance it is presented, and by whom it is or
will be accepted and held honestly, firmly, and
wisely ; but to whom it is idle to talk of fathers,

60
and ancient classics, of historical proof, of the
evidence of quotations, manuscripts, and transla
tions. To one of this class, all this is in an un
known tongue, and by far the greater part of the
historical testimony is as a sealed book.
Yet we know full well, that amongst those
whom learned arrogance looks down upon as the
illiterate, there is always a multitude of sound
and active understandings, who reason fairly and
justly upon all matters within the range of their
examination — who decide wisely upon points in
which they cannpt argue fluently; and that
among these persons are to be found very many
who are deeply impressed with what they believe
to be a rational conviction of the primary truths
of their religion.
The sceptic will indeed tell us, that the unedu
cated professor of Christianity believes in it, sim
ply because it is the religion of his country, of his
neighbourhood, or of his forefathers : precisely for
thp same reason that he would have been a Mus-^
sulman, had he been born upon the banks of the
Euphrates, or an idolatrous worshipper of Seeva
and Vishnoo, if he lived on those of the Ganges:*
* Voltaire, whot in the mo£t brilliant and excursive' flights of his fancy
or wit, never loses sight of his great object, has adroitly insinuated this
objection in a passage of splendid declamation in his Zaire, familiar ta
all who are conversant with French literature/— \
 Les solns qu;on prend de notre enfance
Foment nos sentimens, nos mceurs, notre crganee |
J'eusse 6te prds du Gange, esclave de faux dieux,
Chretienne dans Paris, Mussulmanfe dans ces lieux.

61
So far as relates purely to the uninquiring and
inoperative assent to, and the nominal or merely
external profession of, any system of worship
which may be supported or recommended by
early education and habit, or by interest, or public
opinion, or state policy, this is perfectly true. It
may be true, too, to a certain extent, with regard
to the particular forms of worship, and those
speculative opinions connected with the distinc
tions of particular sects, respecting which the
illiterate may have too little leisure or knowledge
for due investigation. But it is not so as re-
pects that belief which is an efficient principle of
action, which, so far from being the result of
habit and prejudice, is that to which favourite
habits are reluctantly sacrificed, for which che
rished indulgencies are relinquished ; which finds,
in the habits of individuals and the opinions of
society, many more obstacles to overcome than
allies to aid its influence. So far is this from be
ing the effect of education or authority, that it
springs up oftenest at those times when autho
rity, interest, and opinion have the least hold upon
the mind ; it comes in the time of danger or sorrow,
on the bed of sickness or death; when the mind
is forced in upon itself ; when the illusions and
the sway of the world fade away ; when men are
instructed in the most useful wisdom by the ex
perience of their own lives, and the unavoida
ble sense of their own infirmities.

62
In the order of Providence, it is certain that
the lights of religion, like all other means, of
intellectual or moral improvement, are distribu
ted variously in different parts of the world.
But though the access to the knowledge of Chris
tianity may be owing to some single circum
stance of birth, or residence, or education, such
belief in it never is, and cannot be, the effect
of those causes alone. In the use, or abuse,
or neglect of this, as well as in those of the
other advantages which the state of civilization
and knowledge in the society in which he moves,
presents to man, he is not a mechanical agent,
necessarily formed by those about him to their
likeness; he has faculties which, without certain
opportunities of exercise, would have been dor
mant, but for whose right employment he now
becomes accountable.
From all these considerations, it therefore ap
pears to me to be not less the sound conclusion
of reason, than it is the doctrine of revelation! it
self, that the leading and practical truths of re
ligion are made manifest by their own light, and
present themselves tp be judged by their own
evidence. Like all important truths, not directly cogniza
ble by means of the senses, they must and do re
quire patient attention; and, like other truths
having a moral and practical tendency, they may
be shut out from our minds by pride, evil passions

63
and prejudices ; and their reception or rejection
will of consequence depend much upon moral
causes, external to the mere exercise of the rea
soning power : since there is no better ascer
tained law of our nature, than that in moral in
quiries, whether relating to action or opinion, the
tendencies of a stubborn will necessarily have a
strong control over the decisions of the under
standing. ' Let us then for a moment, assuming the Chris
tian religion to be from heaven, inquire how in
fact it does address itself to man.
/ It unfolds to him his own character and situa
tion ; his duties, and the means of discharging
them ) the moral diseases under which he labours,
and the remedies he needs. It unveils to him
the overpowering certainty of immortality — a
truth consonant with the instinctive and univer
sal expectations of all men in all ages ; familiar
to every mind — and though overshadowed with
fears and doubts, yet every where and at all
times wished for, hoped for, and believed. It
presents to him a high and beautiful, an unos
tentatious and pure morality, taught in weighty
and impressive aphorisms, or in natural and
touchirig similitudes, or embodied in the most
engaging forms of action and character. At the
same time that it thus rouses him to the contem
plation of the possible excellences of his own

64
nature, it turns his reflections back upon himself,
and on the survey of his own life and thoughts ;
shows him his unworthiness, and teaches him at
once the lesson pf penitence and of -humility.
After convincing him of his guilt, it speaks to
him of pardon, but a pardon so granted as to
carry within it a lively evidence that his Maker
looks not with indifference upon his vices, but
that it requires an exertion of active beneficence
to render mercy consistent with justice. It offers
him pardon on the condition of belief in the volun
tary sufferings of a Mediator ; a fact which he can-^
not thoroughly believe in as the meritorious ground
of acceptance, without a deep sense of guilt and
unworthiness ; and which, if he does seriously and
earnestly believe, cannot but become in him a
perpetual and living spring of gratitude and devo
tion. It speaks to him of the nature and attributes
of God ; and this not in the way of dry and di
dactic system, but as those attributes are actually
exhibited in the manifestation of his power and
goodness. Whilst it offers to man's consideration
subjects to engage and employ the noblest powers
of his reason, it addresses him also as a being
largely endowed with sentiments and affections;
and it calls upon the warm sensibilities and strong
emotions of his breast, moving him in turns by
each and every natural motive of interest, duty,
and feeling, to remorse, to fear, to repentance, to
devotion, and to gratitude. v i

65
Surely there needs no laboured argument to
prove that there are common principles of our
nature, rational faculties and moral qualities, for
which all this was intended and adapted, so that
if the revelation be true, it will be seen and felt to
be so, not indeed by every man, and fully and in
all its parts, but still quite distinctly by all who
give it the reception which it requires.
If it be from God, it bears upon its face that it
was made for man, since it treats concerning him,
and is fitted for his needs and uses ; and it cannot
be that man should have no witness in himself
which he may question concerning its truth.
If it promulgate doctrines mortifying to his
pride, restrictive of his appetites, alien to the
habits and pursuits which delight him', all this
indeed affords strong reason that he should wish
it to be false, but it does not at all prove it to be
so. But if there be in its teachings clear and
demonstrative contradictions to the first truths
which every intellect acknowledges, if it enjoins
or countenances immorality and vice, he may and
he ought to pronounce it to be false.
It is my wish in these pages to avoid as much
as possible the touching upon those questions of
doctrine upon which Christians have differed, or
even upon those great truths upon which most of
them have agreed, and which seem to me the most
important and the most clearly taught, but which
9

66
are npt necessarily irivolved in the consideration of
the moral or historical evidences of Christianity.
But that the intention and bearing of this argument
may not be misunderstood, it is proper to remark,
that although it be a clear and pervading truth of
Christianity, that to perceive and, estimate its ex- ;
cellence and truth, the understanding must be
opened from above ; man's attention must be
turned away, fram the earth-born cares which,
buzz around or glitter before him, and be forced
inwardly i_pon his own breast, and his affections
raised to higher objects ; yet, however that
mental illumination may be given, it is still the
reason which judges, and we/ are accountable
for the right use of that gift. These things are,
indeed, (as we are told,) spiritually, but still most
of them are also intellectually discerned. The
night passes away, and the sun of righteousness
arises to pPur a flood of light around, cheering and
guiding the wandering pilgrim; yet it is still the
same eye, acting according to the same unchanged
laws of vision which now discerns clearly what
it before beheld, sometimes dim and obscure,
and sometimes shaded and distorted into un-~
real and hideoUs shapes. The laws which go
vern the deductions ofthe mind are not altered,
nor the intellectual powers changed, though the
influence and control which his vices, habits,
and desires had over them,, have all passed away?
But to return —

67
Thus, then, it is that the most unlettered Chris
tian may, independently of all external evidence,
found his faith upon proofs, never, it may be, form
ally brought oUt in words, and seldom taking in
his mind the logical form of argument, or which
he is able to unfold with precision to others, but
still, upon most strictly rational proofs, drawn
from his direct perceptions ofthe conformity of
the doctrines which he believes, to his own indi
vidual nature and reason, his duties, his weakness,
his vices, and his instinctive and irrepressible hopes
and fears ; ofthe agreement ofthe precepts and ex
amples of revelation to whatever his understanding
can conceive to be " true, honest, just, lovely,
and of good report" — from the untaught and
unuttered testimony which the promptings of his
own heart affbrd to the value of the assistance,
the consolation, the pardon which it offers : from
the congruity of what it teaches of his Maker's
being and government with his own partial and
dim, but not less irresistible convictions of infi
nity, eternity, omnipotence: — of immutable jus
tice, goodness, and wisdom : convictions to which
it is probable that no effort of his reason could
have ever led him, but which, when once pre
sented to the intellect, and considered without
self-willed opposition, are immediately felt and
acknowledged. Knowing and feeling all this, he
rejoices to find that which was the dark surmise,

68
and the anxious wish of his heart, declared by
revelation, ahd confirmed by his reason.
All these views are so congruous to our nature,
as rational and moral beings, that I cannot doubt
that they do constantly present , themselves se
cretly and silently to the thoughts of thousands of
Christians wholly unaccustomed to general spe
culation, and completely unable to communicate
the grounds of their own helief to other minds.
Thus is afforded an internal evidence of truth;
addressed to all who can think or feel ; which
requires no previous knowledge but the know
ledge of their own hearts, and which the arts and
doubts of scepticism cannot shake, because they
pan never reach it.
Literary men, conversant with the difficulties,
the refined logic, and the clashing theories of
moral science, as well as speculative theologi
ans versed in the metaphysical subtleties of con
troversial divinity, looking back with complacent
pride upon their own laborious studies, the long
and patient attention which it has. cost them to
attain to any definite conclusions, and the per
plexing doubts which still embarrass every part of
their science, after employing and exhausting
the genius of the most acute and profound inqui
ries from Aristotle to Jonathan Edwards ; whilst
they will most readily allow the moral sensibility
of uneducated men to the powers of religious im^

69
pression, are slow to admit that vulgar minds
and undisciplined intellects can gain any really
rational perception of truths, connected with
and involving such grand and high contempla
tions. They overlook the marked distinction
between the nice analysis of principles, the ac
curate statement of definitions, the logical infer
ences from them, the daring solution of difficul
ties in the government of the world, and the
structure of our own thoughts ; in short, between
all that constitutes the theory of metaphysical
science, and these mysterious but certain first
truths and rational instincts which are implanted
in the breasts of all men, and which prepare
them to confess the power of a Creator, to appre
hend his perfections, and to know the obligation
of his laws. The one is indeed" an elevating
employment of the intellect, but in its results
how often vain and false— always how cold and
inoperative ! The others are in fact the germs
^.nd seeds of all intellectual and moral know
ledge, and they are not the less efficient because
they are not embodied in words, nor sorted and
fashioned into systems. If philosophers will not
confess them to be of reason, they must then be
considered as something nobler and more divine
than reason itself. They may lie dormant, in the
darkness of ignorance, or the corruption of gross
vice ; but, when the occasion wliich is to call them

70
into energy arrives, they develop themselves,
we know not how: heaven's beams shine upon
them, and they burst into life and power.
How or why this is so, we cannot say ; but so
we know it to he. It is so with relation to- the
obligation of those social duties which require con
stantly, to be propPsed and enforced, but never
to be proved ; so it is with reference to our per
sonal rights, and those fundamental rules of jus
tice which may be violated, but can never be re
pealed by senates or nations, which need neither
expounders nor commentators, which are the same
at Rome and at Athens, in past and in future
ageS, which are universal arid irnmortal, and ac
knowledge but one lawgiver, even the God of
all men.* So, too, is it with reference to those
yet higher duties, which involve or comprehend
all others, and those noblest privileges of man,
which admit him to the presCnce and the favour
of his Maker.
The study of mental philosophy is but .the de
velopment of the common , intuitions of reason
and the arrangement ofthe observed laws of our

* Huic legi nee abrogari fas est, neque _erogari ex liac aliqnod licet,
neque tota abrogari potest. • Nee vero aut per senatum aut per populum-
solvi hac lege possuinus. Neque est quereadUs explanator aut interprets
ejus alius. Nee erit alia lex Roinse, alia Athenis— alia nunc, alia post-hac ;
sed et omnes gentes et omni tempore, una lex et sempitema, et immortalis •
continebit. Unusque crit communis quasi magistcr et imperator omnimJv|
Dms- Cicero.

71
common nature ; and he to. whom the philosophy
of revelation is proppsed, cannot need for its
comprehension the previous discipline of Aris
totle or Locke. >
Nevertheless, in a general and speculative ex
amination of this question, we ought not wholly
to pass over the purely metaphysical proofs which
have been brought in corroboration of certain of
the grandest truths of Christianity. These proofs
are exceedingly limited in their use, and very
subject to be abused to foster the pride of in
tellect, and to give the dress of profound science
to the vain imaginations of a philosophy "falsely
so called."
If, however, leaving the firm, solid ground of
humble faith, or of natural sentiment, common
feelings and common sense, we ascend to those
cloudy regions of lofty and cold speculation,
into which philosophy has slowly toiled, in her
aspirations to eatch a nearer view of the eternal
cause of all things, and the boundless founda
tions of his throne, it seems certain, that although
the wise men of this world have for ages deluded
themselves with a show of " vain wisdom and
false philosophy," yet the cautious inquirer may,
with Clarke, and Sir Isaac Newton, with Fenelon,
Price, and Butler, arrive at some safe conclu
sions coricerning the necessary existence of an
eternal and infinite mind, and the immutable at-

72-

tributes of his being, and fixed laws of his go
vernment. These conclusions were probably
originally suggested by revelation, yet they are
supported by arguments and demonstrations of
another kind, and in all of them he who has
the power of fixing and continuing his attention,
and the logical acuteness necessary for tracing
the steps of a very refined and subtile investiga
tion, cannot but believe that he can discern the
impression of eternal truth, although they be im
perfectly apprehended, and on every side bounded
by clouds and thick darkness. "
These things, says Dr. Samuel Clarke, in his
correspondence, with Butler, speaking of one of
the grandest and most demonstrative, and at the
same time to my mind the most shadowy, and by
far the least useful of all such speculations — the
a priori argument for the necessary existence of|
one infinite and eternal being — " These things
are indeed very difficult to express, and not easy
to be conceived, but by very attentive minds ; but
to such as can and will attend, nothing, can I
think, be more demonstratively certain."*
It is scarcely necessary to observe, that such
remarks can have no application to those first
and obvious truths, or instinctive principles of be
lief, (to which I have repeatedly referred,) and
* Correspondence between Butler and Clarke.

73 ¦
the immediate inferences frottl them that form
the foundation of all moral reasoning, and either
spring up of themselves in every mind, or re
quire only to be stated to be received.. They,
refer altogether .to those subtile and abstract
chains of reasoning by which speculative men,
in all ages, aspiring to rival the long continuity
of deduction whicli prevails in mathematical, de
monstration, have undertaken to argue put the
great conclusions of religipus and ethical truth, by
the aid of the logical faculty alone, without re
course to the observed facts of human nature, or to
external proof or instruction.
Thus it is that speculative and ingenious au
thors* have laboured to prove, from the first prin
ciples and data afforded by reason alone, (arid
often not unsuccessfully as to the logical ac
curacy of the argument, though generally,
with the smallest possible power of impres
sion for any purpose of conviction or of popular
instruction,) the self-existence of an eternal Crea
tor of all things,; his unity, his infinity and neces
sary omnipPtence ; his perfection of wisdom and
all excellence, truth, and justice ; the unchange-

* Descartes, Sh- Isaac Newton, Dr. Clarke, Bentley, Dr. trice, Dod
dridge, Fenelon, and many more names, illustrious alike for then- virtues
and their talents, might be enumerated as having taken the " high a priori
road," at which wits and satirists have sneered, but which I cannot think
erroneous, though I am convinced it is of little utility.
10

. • 74 -'
able character of right and wrong resulting from
his nature; the immortality and presuriiptive im-*
materiality of the soul; the accountability and
future judgment of man, and the moral govern
ment of the universe, administered by rewards
and;punishments. Surely the faint glimpses which reason thus
gains ofthe highest wisdom, cannot be in contra
diction to the better defined and nearer views of
true revelation. Sound philosophy must agree with,
and in some manner tend to confirm, all true reli
gion ; and this agreement is again another and|i
distinct species of internal evidence, of an un
substantial and speculative kind, it is true, and it
is equally certain, by no means extensive or effi
cacious in its influence, but yet not to be over
looked or rejected in any enlarged consideration
of the subject.'
Whether, therefore, we limit oji r considera
tion to the purely speculative inquiry, or, guid
ed by a wiser and more useful philosophy, in
vestigate, the practical operation of revelation 3
in the manner in which it may, and does, com- :
mend itself to the consciences and obedience of
by far the greatest number of those who embrace ,
it, it is quite evident, that the conclusions of those!
who absolutely deny the power of reason to judge $
in ariy degree of the truth and worth of a revela
tion, from the character of its doctrines and pre-

75
cepts, is rather the, opposite of a dangerous error,
than the spber truth itself.
So far is the extrinsic proof of the verity of any
religious instruction (no matter how plain or im
mediate such proof may be) from excluding all
consideration of its moral evidence, that it is in
fact alike the first and warmest impulse of a de^
vout heart, and the most natural tendency of a
thinking mind, to examine, and study the truth so
communicated, applyingtp this study all its powers
of intellect and resources of knowledge ; and this,
most certainly, not as a judge, arrogating to de
cide upon the wisdom of Gbd ; but as an intel
ligent disciple, eager to understand the revelation,
and confident of being able to find in it abun
dant matter fbr admiration and reverence.
Let us i'n.irriagiriation transport ourselves back
to the times ofthe apostles, and place ourselves in
the situation of the primitive Christians: suppose,
for instance, of an intelligent Thessalpnian or
Colossian, to whom the preaching of Paul had
been visibly confirmed, by undeniable miracles
wrought befpre his eyes. On this ground he be
lieves the religion which PauL teaches him to be
true: But is that all? Would he who, received it
sincerely and fervently at that period, any more
than at the present, limit his consideration to
that single point, and be content to regard his
religion merely as the certain but arbitrary will
of an all-powerful being, wham he worships

76
solely as an omnipotent ruler I Would he not,
on the contrary, examine and search into it in all
its bearings, confidently trusting that he would
find it, at least in some degree, and in confessed-
ly imperfect apprehensions of its whole nature
and objects,' to- show'' forth the wisdom and
goodness of its authpr?
Now, if we hold that the human riiind is neces
sarily incapable of forming any right judgment
ofthe credibility of divine truth, prior, to being ;
convinced of its authenticity from some extrinsic
source, and this, not because /bad propensities'
and ungovernable passions cloud its view and turn
away its attention, but solely because reason:
hasin itself np ppssible -capacity of judging upon
such subjects •';' then it seems to follow, upon the
same principles, that afterbeing put in possession
of the proper external proof, that that circum
stance alone" would be of little effect in throwing
light upon the real character pf the dispensation.
But tlie fact is not so.
In the application of his reason to the exami
nation of his religious -duties and opinions, man
finds nP exemption frorp the universal law of his
condition. He is still conscious that he is
Placed on the isthmus of a; middle state,
A. being darkly "wise and feebly great.*-
He is Very ignorant, and on many subjects
^ . - -
* A .being darkly wise and rudely great, Pope.

77
he must be content tp remain so. This ignorance
should teach him humility. It should guard him
from the folly of questioning the truth which
comes to him with its proper proof, or from re
ceiving in fprm the teachings of his Creator, and
refining away their substance. Yet his ignorance
is not total.
By the light of his own mind he can discern
the forms of things present* to it, placed with
in the range of its action or contemplation, and
designed for its irnprpvement. By that light
alone he can often recognize the seal of their di
vine author's power and benevolence stamped
upon theni ;. but this light sheds its rays over but
a narrow sphere, and cannot penetrate the thick
darkness which enshrouds the future, tfie remote,
the inaccessible, and the infinite. -
As if to restrain his presumption, and to mortify
his pride, an impenetrable cloud of darkness' sur
rounds him on every side, and partially hides from
his eager curiosity the things which are apparent
ly most near and present, even himself and his own
nature, and the material objects subject tp his con
trol, As if tp plevate his conceptions and to fill his
soul with the sense of his capacity for greater ex
cellence, he has powers of observation, and know
ledge, and reason, which neither time nor space can
circumscribe, which can carry his mind far beyond
the limits of his own little world, and instruct him

> 78
in the grandest and most universal laws ofthe cre
ation, and finally lead him "to the throne of God,
there unveiling to him some faint but sure glimp
ses of the divine character and greatness. He has
faculties bestowed upon him not unworthy of an
immortal being? These do not, indeed, enable him
tp discover what the will and government of his
Maker must be ot ought to be ; but by them, if
exercised in candour and humility, whatever his
share of learning or talent may be, he may at
tain to know whether the revelation be true —
" if the doctrine be of heaven or of man." In
this momentous emplpyment of his faculties, he
is not obliged to confine his search to the evi
dence contained in the records of history, and
the books of human authors ; for he can appeal also
to the indelible laws of right reason, and to the
living volumes of his own memory and Jiparit.

ESSAY III.
The probable Characteristics of Truth ih the Doctrines,
Precepts, and Moral Influence of any Religion.
In one of the most celebrated dialogues of Pla
to,* Socrates is represented as meeting his favour
ite pupil Alcibiades, at the porch of a temple,
where he is about to offer a sacrifice. The arro
gant and aspiring young Athenian is wrapt in
dpbp thought ; his mind is filled with the wild
est dreams of military and political ambition,
not unmixed with nobler sentiments, and Ipfty
meditations. In a short interrogatpry conversa
tion, conducted after his accustomed manner of
guiding and exciting fhe minds of his disciples to
develop their own conclusions for themselves,
by following out the natural deductions of com
mon sense, from familiar and generally acknow
ledged principles or facts, Socrates soon con
vinces his pupil of the vanity arid inconsistency
of his desires, and shows him that he does not
know how to worship or to pray aright, nor to ask
of heaven such things as are truly useful for him;
¦ —I. |' l -. --!_— _____-—_l ¦ -  I' ¦-- ' " ¦ ' H^M ¦¦¦ ¦* ' — —
* Plato in Alcibiadc II. See note D.

,80
that' if he should obtain the objects of his vows,
they might perhaps be granted to him more in
anger than in favour ; and that even science it
self, which seems to be the most unquestionable
and unmixed good, will often prove an injury,
rather than a blessing, if it do not also., include
the knowledge of the best and highest wisdom.
Human sagacity, he intimates, can never dispel
or penetrate this darkness ; and he that would be
truly wise, must therefore wait patiently untuV
some divine teacher should vouchsafe to become
his instructor. When that time at length arri
ved, he would, like Diomede, in the epic fable, see
the clouds which darkened his riatural vision
roll away frorn around him, and find himself ena
bled to discern and confess the power ;and pre
sence of the. Divinity, and to perceive good and
evil, as they are in themselves, and not as they
appear in distorted forms and false colours
through the misty illusions of life.
This instruction of the great philosopher of
common sense, was founded upon, a clear arid
true- perception of human ignorance and frailty ;
—for we may justly look upon this as the phi
losophy of Socrates, although, in the writings of
Plato, he is generally employed as a sort of dra
matic personage j to utter the opinions of his more
eloquent and speculative disciple.

81
Let us now suppose that Alcibiades, not
content, as Plato describes him to have been, to
wait in eager but igporant expectation' of the
coming of his future divine teacher, in the
meanwhile presenting to his "guide, philo
sopher, and friend," the garlands which he had
intended to have placed on the altar of Jupiter
or Mars, had gone further, and had made some
such inquiries as these : " When this heavenly
teacher, whose coming you have led me to expect,
and of whose benevolent care you assure me, at
length appears, of what character, think you, will
his instructions be ? Is it probable or not, argu
ing, so far as we may without rashness or presump
tion, upon such a subject, from experience or ana
logy, that this super-human teaching will be in
entire contradiction to natural reason, or that it
will be wholly and in all its parts beyond and
above its examination ? Is it not probable, on the
contrary, that like those grand truths concerning
figure and numbers, which have been revealed to
us by those who have made known to us the
learning of the east, this doctrine, too, though be
yond our power to discover, will, when announced,
approve itself at once, and almost intuitively, to
the intellect ? At any rate, how think you shall
we be enabled to judge of its truth, and ofthe au
thority to which it may be entitled ?"
11

82
Such an inquiry would form the subject of a
dialogue worthy to exercise the learned ingenuity
of Barthelemy, or the philosophical eloquence
and moral wisdom of Berkeley or Fenelon.
I cannot attempt to fill up this outline. The
answers which Socrates or Plato could have
given to these inquiries, would, of necessity, have
been most vague and unsatisfactory ; but using
the lights which the moral history of man now
affords us, and following the known laws of hu
man nature, and the ordinary observed course of
the administration of the divine government, in
whatever manner the argument might be conduct
ed, it could, I think, be naturally and reasonably
brought to some swh results as the following :
I. Independently of all consideration of the
peculiar character of the intrinsic signs of truth
and authority which it might contain, a revelation
designed for the instruction of mankind, or of
any considerable "portion of them, would, in all
probability, be accompanied or supported by
evidence of some kind or other, sufficient to es
tablish its veracity to the satisfaction of those who
had competent opportunities for examining it, and
Who were required to receive it; otherwise its uses
and effect would be circumscribed to the compa
ratively few persons to whom it was immediately
or originally communicated ; or else the submis
sion tp its requisitions might be in no small de-

83
gree the effect of caprice, or of arbitrary choice,
and not of enlightened preference. Even if this
apparent difficulty was obviated, in some manner
which our imperfect knowledge of the scheme of
the divine government makes us unable to antici
pate, religion would yet seem to be in dan
ger of wanting authority to attract and command
the attention of the careless, and to repel or re
press the doubts and oppositions of the wilfully
perverse. Nevertheless, it does not necessarily follow
from this consideration, that such proof or cor
roboration would be irresistible in its power of
commanding attention and enforcing conviction
upon any men, however enlightened or Teamed ;
since we too well know, that the evidence and
authority of the clearest and most indisputable
points of moral duty, are by no means such as
invincibly to compel assent, and still less to se
cure uniform and unvarying obedience. As, in
the conduct of life, passion is often a successful
rebel against reason and her laws, so reason, in her
turn, might be unfaithful and dishonest to religion.
It would, therefore, arguing from the analogy
ofthe degree of evidence and authority given by
our Creator to the plainest precepts of natural mo
rality, be no strong objection to the authority of any
system of revelation, if its evidence, whether ex
ternal or internal, were not so strong as to make

84
rejection impossible. Though, on the other side,
it is highly probable, for the same reasons, that it
would have quite enough proof to satisfy those
who are willing to acknowledge, and desirous to
obey, thp natural laws of morality.
, This is but a preparatory consideration, and
rather obviates objections, and excites to inquiry
and investigation, than furnishes positive proof.
Let us go on to search for some decisive signs of
probable internal evidence.
II. A revelation made to a being of very limi
ted mental powCrs, and those powers developed
and instructed by so brief and narrow an experi
ence as ours, would, of course, contain many
truths far beyond what his own intellect could it
self reason out by deduction, or discover by obser
vation or experience ; many things, too, in direct
contradiction to some of the inferences which
he had plausibly and naturally, but erroneously,
drawn from his imperfect knowledge and partial
observations'; but it assuredly would not contra
dict — on the contrary, it must inevitably harmon
ize with those most sure first principles of truth,
and those direct and immediate conclusions from
them which man knows intuitively, or can as
certain with certainty. When candidly examin
ed and compared with what is previously known
of our race and our nature, or with what, if never
before observed, is yet within the power of our

85
observation, when the attention is earnestly di
rected towards it, so far as man could judge of or
comprehend it at all, (for there might well be
some parts of it altogether beyond his power of
forming any judgment whatever concerning
them,) it would unquestionably be found to be
true, just, right, fitting, and useful. It might
teach many things which reason could never
have made known to us, but which, when once
seen, would be acknowledged ; others, which
reason would not have anticipated as proba
ble; some things, doubtless, the fiict of whose
existence is sufficiently comprehensible, but the
manner wholly incomprehensible ; but surely no
thing which reason could distinctly perceive to
be plainly impossible. It might also, not impro
bably, contain some truths either previously dis
covered, or discoverable, by the exercise of our
ordinary faculties, but those enforced by more
weighty considerations, and placed in new and
unexpected, but still natural and probable rela
tions. Such, for instance, among many others, are the
commonly acknowledged moral duties of justice,
fidelity, and veracity, which Revelation has
strengthened by higher sanctions and new mo
tives ; by more distinct views of futurity, and a
deeper sense of obligation ; by all the considera
tions that can give intensity to penitence and shame,

86
and kindle higher aspirations after holiness —
which it has also placed in new relations ; so that,
while they serve as rules for the conduct of life,
and show us what we ought to be, they bid us
also think of what we are, impress on us the sense
of our need of mercy for the past, and of aid and
assistance for tbe future, and make the gratitude
of those who receive these favours the efficient
sources of truer and purer virtues.
The conclusions just stated seem to be fairly
deducible from the very idea of a revelation made
to such a mixed being as man by his all-wise and
infinite Maker.
If, dropping for a moment the consideration of
a revelation involving social or religious duties/
we should imagine that, for some wise and bene
ficent purpose, the Supreme had deigned to un
fold to the greatest of natural and mathematical
philosophers whom the world has yet beheld',
those laws of his material creation which are far
beyond the grasp of human observation; is it
not reasonable to think — indeed, can we at all
doubt — that in the boundless range of creation
thus laid open to the astonished contemplation
of the sage, he would find, together with many
new uses, connections and bearings of well-
known laws, which he never could have imagined
or conjectured, things innumerable, which hu
man science never would have pre-supposed or

87
excogitated from any received and established
principles-yet such that, when he compared
them with his former more limited knowledge, he
would perceive at once to agree with what he be
fore knew of the fixed laws of that little part of
Creation with which he was acquainted, harmo
nizing in one grand whole, with all the unity of
truth ; or that he would observe many laws, quali
ties and modes of existence, which, had they been
proposed to him as mere conjectures of human
sagacity, he would have rejected as false or im
probable ? Surely, however, he would behold no
thing that could contradict those mathematical
and necessary truths which man knows by a sort of
natural and ratiorial revelation, if he knows any
thing with absolute certainty, to be the un
changeable laws of all material being and action.
It is on precisely the same principles, that he
who examines the laws and doctrines of Chris
tianity, will find in what it teaches us concerning
the unity, nature, spirituality, infinity, and eterni
ty of God, of his government by rewards and
punishments, his wisdom and power, as well as in
what we are there taught of man, his character, con
dition and duties, very much that no searching of
the mind, no study ofthe heart, no logical subtilty
ever could find out. Yet all this, when it is once
clearly stated, is found to be so conformable to our
perceptions, consciences, and experience, as to be

88
now theoretically received as undeniable by ma- .
ny who reject the revelation itself; and in the
very face of all historical testimony, as to the
real progress of the human mind, in the know
ledge of ourselves and our duties, and our Ma
ker, to be claimed as forming an essential part of
the common moral notions of all thinking men,
by, such writers as Lord Herbert of Cherbury,
among the older, and Rousseau among those more
recent sceptics, who, rejecting the facts, are yet
anxious to retain the ethics and the sentiments of
the gospel.
This is peculiarly true as relates to the ethics
of Christianty. Revelation showed us for the
first time the nature and excellence of those gen
tle, pure and lowly virtues, and of that humble *
devotion, over whose beauty and obligation the
pride or the fiercer passions of men had cast so
thick a veil, that undirected reason could not, or
would not, perceive them. But when these are
authoritatively announced, when motives to them
are offered, when they are embodied in lovely
forms of action and character, gladdening socie
ty with their mild presence, lightening the calam
ities of life, and assuaging its sorrows — that
same reason can never sufficiently admire them,
and every heart pays the homage of undissem-
bled and involuntary approbation. Heathen an
tiquity did not know them ; its genius and phi-

89
losophy could not discover them : but once seen,
their worth is acknowledged by the most igno
rant, and their beauty by the most vicious.
It is, by the way, well worthy of remark, that
the attempt to separate the morals of Christian
ity from its faith, has always carried with it its
own practical refutation. That philosophical
religion, which is without a creed and without
worship, has resulted in a morality without mo
tive and without practice.
Again: we know but very little of our own
hearts. In the whole maze of our mysterious exis
tence, there is no greater problem to man than his
own character ; but his memory has registered his
past feelings and thoughts, and he can discern his
present propensities ; and when revelatipn speaks
to him of himself, his reason may compare that
teaching with the faithful records of his own
breast, and authenticate it all.
Upon other points of belief : such, to take a
conspicuous example, as the great and funda
mental truth of an atonement for guilt, through
the merits of a mediator, we find a revealed doc
trine, such as would confessedly not have been
presumed or conjectured ; and it may even be,
what, if stated nakedly and' without application,
connection, or other evidence, we might rightly
look upon as very improbable ; but, yet, such as
does in no wise contradict sound reason, or the
12

90
analogy ofthe known government of the ,physi-*
cal or of the moral world. It Would be a superfluous
labour to enter- into the details of argument and
doctrine, illustrating this beautiful harmony be
tween the Christian revelation and the revelation
of nature ; and to demonstrate from it, that
much of what at the first glance seems impro
bable, is by no means impossible, or without
resemblance in other parts of God's govern
ment and works. All this has been most fully
and satisfactorily done in the Analogy of Bishop
Butler, a work which leaves nothing to be desir-
ed on this subject, or on any other upon which it
touches, however transiently, except that the ex
cellent author had combined a more perspicuous
Style, a more lucid arrangemerit, and a happier
power of familiar example and illustration, with
the spirit of meek philosophy, practical saga
city, profound and patient thought, and large
observation Which distinguish all his inquiries.*
Every page of that profound and original ar
gument, presents some signal demonstration of
that principle, which it has been endeavoured* to
state and develop in these Essays — the amazing
i strength, and the still more amazing weakness,
of human reason ; showing how utterly feeble,
how Wildly absurd it is, when it endeavours to
* See Note E.

91
penetrate, by its own sagacity alone, into the
laws and designs ofthe Creator ; yet, how acute
and how comprehensive that sagacity becomes,
when it is limited to its proper office, the examin
ation and study of those laws to which the. Cre
ator has himself invited our attention, by placing
them within the sphere of our knowledge, and
making an acquaintance with them necessary or
conducive to our happiness or virtue. But to
return to our subject : —
Upon the whole, therefore, it would clearly af
ford a perfectly valid proof of the divinity of a reh
gion, if its doctrines, containing some instructions
transcending our understanding, were yet never
contrary to it, and were in many points strongly
confirmed by its deductions ; and if, whilst this
revelation laid open new truths, it moreover gave
new authority and new uses to old ones, and en
abled those who were before in darkness, to
compare this instruction with nature, with reason,
and with themselves ; with their hearts, con
sciences and experience, and find them all to
correspond. To pass on to another point:
III. Such a communication from an all-wise
and benevolent Ruler, to his dependant creatures,
would scarcely take place without some great
and beneficent purpose in view. Coming from
the highest wisdom, it would probably be for the
highest possible good. But what can be a high-

92
er good to man than that of rendering him fit for
the favours of his Maker, increasing his virtue,
purifying his heart, arid elevatittg him in the
scale of moral, and consequently of intellectual
beings ?
Learned and speculative men have sometimes
doubted how far morality could ever be the
subject of discovery or revelation. They have
gone over the various heads of Christian ethics,
and have shown how consonant they all are to right
reason ; how admirably conducive to the well-be
ing of society and the happiness of individuals ;
how congenial to the universal moral sentiment
of man, who can never refrain from involunta
rily giving some attestation to their excellence,
though he may practically reject their authority ;
how powerfully some of them have been enforced
by the lessons and eloquence of ancient philoso
phers, and how the sentiments inspired by
others have lent a vivid and 'lasting charm to
those strains of classical poetry which awaken
responsive sympathies in every breast, because
they are felt to utter the unsophisticated and
Universal voice of nature. Thus they have la
boured, by eloquence and learning, to corroborate
and establish the truth and value of this system h
of ethics. But since it is so far and so manifest
ly rational and natural, it has been plausibly ques
tioned, whether it can give any decided evidence*

93
of the other truths with which it may be associa
ted ; whether it proves any more than that its first
teachers were in this matter wise men, though
in others they might have erred. Sceptics have
insinuated the objection, and Christian advo
cates* have alriiost conceded' it, and have regard
ed the purity, truth and excellence of the gospel
morality, as proving but little more than the high
and certain obligation of those rules themselves,
and the great probity and matchless good sense
of those by whom they were first promulgated.
From this they justly infer the respect conse
quently due to the testimony of such men, when
they declared that their knowledge was divinely
communicated, and the great improbability that
such a doctrine could have been otherwise form
ed by these illiterate men, or indeed by any per
sons whatever of their age and nation.
This reasoning is so far sound and conclusive,
yet it presents a most limited and imperfect con
sideration of these remarkable characteristics.
Whether we consider moral objection as found
ed in the unchangeable and eternal character of
the Deity, whose will is always guided by unerr
ing and unvariable wisdom, and look upon it in
relation to ourselves, as springing immediately
from the moral nature which he has given to us,
* See note F.

94
and as having a character of essential truth* more
or less clearly perceptible to reason ; or if we look
solely to that test of utility, which some popular
moralists have wished to establish as the very es
sence of all virtue, and which is certainly a con
stant concomitant, and never failing mark and
indication of it: we may satisfy ourselves, that
Christian morality is at once agreeable to reason,
and to aU our moral perceptions and feelings, and
at the same time is evidently beneficial in its ef-*
fects, and calculated to diffuse happiness around,
and refresh and gladden the face of society.
However, it is just as certain, that either as a
whole, or in its great features, it never was rea
soned out by any effort of logical ingenuity, nor
inferred from the widest observation of human
life, by man unblessed by revelation. Parts of it
have been familiar to all persons in all times ; more
especially those principles which are absolutely.
essential to the existence and good order of socie
ty, and which" find powerful auxiliaries in the do
mestic affections, or in the selfish prudence of men.
But in all that forms the morality of devotion, in
all that relates to our duties towards: our Maker,
philosophy made but little progress. In its clear
est and best conceptions of worship, it rose only
to awe and veneration ; but the very notion of
love to God, even in its most abstract and theo
retical sense, is peculiar to the Christian revela-

95
tion. So, too, is the consideration of meekness
and humility, as being in any sense praiseworthy.
All tbe heathen views of moral virtue, bright and
luminous in some points, were in others imper
fect, partial, without distinctness, and above all,
without impressiveness or authority. They op
posed feeble barriers indeed to the fierce activi
ty ofthe passions, and every thinking man was left
at liberty to suit his ethical theory to his own
habits or propensities. But the simple fact of
thus bringing together our duties into one grand
and harmonious system — (if, in truth, it be not
likening it too much to the formal methodical la
bour of human art to speak of it as a system)—
the resolving them into a few single rules of
boundless application ; the giving to them a dig
nity, an impressiveness before unknown ; follow
ing them through all the mazes of deed, and word,
and thought; and breathing through all a spirit
of purity and peace, seems to me to be a sufficient
demonstration that this wisdom is from above.*
It is from our uniform experience of the undis
turbed order of nature, that we are able to ascer
tain the extraordinary interposition of its author.
Long observation, for example, has taught us
some of the powers of medicine, and the hidden
virtues which lie " in herbs, plants, stones, and
their true qualities." But this same experience
which shows us that the art of man can so often

96
combat successfully the fiercest attacks of dis
ease, assures us that it has no.efficacy which can
enable a man, like one bf us, to remove, blind
ness with a touch, or to raise the dead with a
word. If we should be witnesses of such a fact,
or it should be satisfactorily proved to us, it ne
cessarily follows that such an exertion of powers,
so far transcending past experience, is a miracle,
and proves the interference ofthe Deity himself.
BUt the purity, the excellence, the perfection of
this moral teaching, is of the nature of a moral
miracle. During so many centuries, amongst so
many millions of thinking and observing men,
no such result was ever attained, or any thing
approaching to it, or resembling it. Why is it
not, then, a just inference to pronounce that man
was unequal to the discovery ; and that it must
have been vouchsafed from the Father of lights ?
The statement of an analogical case, may per.
haps serve to illustrate this proof. No man who
has ever thought, no matter how cursorily, upon
law or legislation, or attended to the obvious
suggestions of his own mind in his ordinary af
fairs, can deny that there are certain primary
principles of justice, which should regulate all
dealings between man and man, and some cardi
nal points of natural policy, which are not found
ed in any accidental human institutions, but are
beneficial to mankind, as social beings, under ;'?
all circumstances.

97
These are those fixed principles of justice and
good government, which, " iiec erit alia lex
Romse , alia Athenis," and are " law alike at Or
leans and at Westminster Hall."* But it is quite
certain, that no system of jurisprudence which the
world has yet seen, has recognized such princi
ples throughout, and such alone. Everywhere,
even in the wisest and freest nations of the
earth, have private cupidity, political ambition,
ecclesiastical or professional superstition, preju
dices of education, old habits and personal inter
ests, combined to encumber the municipal law, in
some way or other, with more or less of idle forms,
unreal subtleties, unmeaning distinctions, impo
litic or unjust regulations, useless or oppressive
restrictions on the freedom of commerce, of the
press, of the person, or of conscience. Such is
the lot of man ; so far as his own efforts can go,
his liberty, his wisdom, his virtue, can be but
comparative. In many countries, we know that such perver
sions and corruptions have almost frustrated the
great ends of society ; and none can boast of a
political, and still less of a legal system free from
errors injurious to the community. No matter
* Sir William Jones' Preface to his "Essay on the Law of Bailment."
This is the euloginm which this great English lawyer gave to the works of
Pothier, the luminary of French jurisprudence, and in expressing it, he
has imitated the language, and borrowed the thought of Cicero. It is im
possible to compress more and higher authorities in fewer words.
13

98
how much national pride -may excuse or defend
them — no matter how successfully the apologists
of all existing institutions may varnish over the
imperfections, the absurdities, or,, it may be, the
atrocities of that code; which it is their interest to
support : such evils are everywhere found and
everywhere felt.
They frequently grow out of accidental or polit
ical institutions ; but whatever may be their imme
diate cause, they are to be traced finally fo the
necessary imperfectioris of hUman reason, and
the deficiency of public virtue.
If, then, a code were now to be presCrited to the
world, claiming to haVe been prepared under the
special guidance of heaven, which should embody
all that was any where wise or excellent in human
laws, should avoid all their imperfections, and
should supply all theif deficiencies ; which was
suited to every form of civil policy, and to all un
derstandings ; which never needed the help of judi
cial exposition or of legislation, to fill up or cor
rect its defects ; which was so far level to every
man's comprehension as to direct him aright in all
the multifarious concerns of life- — let me ask,
would such a claim to divine authority appear to
be without foundation ? Would it be wholly unrea
sonable to ascribe to super-human wisdom what
human wisdom had so long, so often, and so
vainly attempted ? If this be at all or in any de:

99
gree whatever probable, in a system regulating
the simple rights of property and personal liber
ty, how much more .strongly will the argument
apply to the divine origin of a body of moral
instructions regulating all riian's actions, his
words, and thoughts^ and desires, and reaching
to his inmost soul ! The promulgation of such a
moral law is worthy of the great Lawgiver,- and
attests his interposition.;
It will add not a little weight to this analogi
cal argument, if we consider that the analogy
holds, .good in another and remarkable particu
lar.. Moral impediments of the same nature,
are the main obstacles to purity and perfec
tion* alike in civil legislation and in the laws
which should, govern the conscience and" the
heart. In the one case the interests, the ambi
tion, the unruly passions, and the base selfish
ness of mankind, combine with ignorance or in
dolence, to prevent equal and simple justice and
political wisdom, from regulating the whole civil
rule of life. In the other, that moral rule of life,
which Christianity has laid before us, calls for
such habitual and unqualified sacrifices of the
selfish to the benevolent affections, imposes such
restraints upon sensual appetites, and teaches.
truths so mortifying to the innate pride ofthe un
derstanding, that, allowing mankind to be intel
lectually capable (of which there is, indeed, no

100
sufficient proof) of discovering that system, nev
ertheless, we cannot believe that their wishes and
inclinations^, would have allowed them to have
formed such a moral theory. Men, as was quaint
ly, but sagaciously remarked by some old writer,
have not reason enough to use their reason. We
all can, and habitually do, blind ourselves to the
truth which is displeasing to us. Therefore it is
that the ethics of merely, human philosophy aU
ways have been, and always will be in some de
gree formed to suit human passions and inclina
tions. If they impose some wise restraints up
on our appetites, they compensate us by indulging
our pride; if they bid us refrain from injuring our
neighbours, they still tolerate, and perhaps incul
cate the idolatry of self-love and self-admiration-.
._-, Since, therefore, the talent of mankind never
did, in fact, invent or excogitate for itself a per
fect system of ethics, there is a high moral
probability that it was not capable of doing it.
Add to this the stronger moral probability, that if
men could have done this, they would not; and
we must necessarily infer that such a morality
must be divine. But if so, whilst it bears its. own
evidence upon its front, it also confirms the other
doctrines of that revelation of which it forms a
necessary and harmonious part.
The morality of Christianity is not an insula
ted part of this dispensation, which might be

101
transplanted into any other system of belief with
equal efficacy. It is connected with, and entwin
ed in, all its essential doctrines. It is not given
simply as a rule of life, but as a test of character ;
teaching those who acknowledge it the secrets of
their own hearts ; making tliem feel the chains
which bind them to sin and misery, and bidding
them to look for deliverance to an arm more
pbwerful than their own ; while this same revela
tion, which detects the lurking diseases of human
nature, prescribes and supplies the remedy.
Thus, the moral tendency of a religion, if it be
clear and decided, and still more, if it be also
original, would constitute a palpable and promi
nent, and most convincing sign of its truth.
IV. If, then, this revelation be designed to
improve the character of man, and if it proceeds
from an all-powerful author, it Will not, it cannot
fail of its effects. The result will be visible in
the lives and character of those who receive it —
perhaps in different degrees, and operating gra
dually ; perhaps differently in different individuals,
ages, and nations, and of course according to the
declarations or promises of the revelation itself.
Not improbably, too, the perfection of this reli
gion might be at such an immeasurable height
above the weakness of those who profess it, and
allowing of such an indefinite if not infinite pro
gression in improvement, that a comparison of

102
its precepts with the practice of them would make
its moral influence appear to an observer to be
small indeed, until he turned to the contrast af
forded by the lives and dispositions of thpse who
walked by the light of their own inventions, and
not by that of heaven. ,
In spite of all these defects or imperfections,
this moral effect of divine revelation would doubt
less be perceptible in some such way as to be at
once a cpnsequence of the doctrine, and a testi
mony to it ; forming an indirect but highly pro
bable evidence to those who observe this in
fluence in others, but of the most positive and
conclusive kind to those who experience it in
themselves. To such, this . evidence will grow
more and more vivid and intense in the same
degree as the religion incorporates itself with
their habitual thPughts, regulates their affections,
and guides their lives.
But if the evidence, the motives, and the in
fluences of this revelation, were not such as ir
resistibly arid Universally to extort and compel
submission— if the will of man, his passions and
innate propensities, as well as the higher parts
of his nature, were left free tP act in reference
to its claims, it might then be passed by with
disgust, or boldly rejected by very many. In
this case it is every way likely, previously to any
actual knowledge of the fact, that these person?

103
would show forth in their lives and dispositions,
(not judged by the revealed doctrine, but by the
rules of moral prudence and duty acknowledged
by themselves, by the promptings of the moral
sense, or by the effects of their actions on their
own happiness and that of others) the predomi
nance of those motives and appetites which har
dened their hearts, and closed the eyes of their
understanding against the offers and arguments
of a religion inculcating and promising purity,
holiness, arid peace.
We should, however, always recollect, that
so strange, and, to us, so unaccountable are
the operations of prejudice, the effects of in
voluntary ignorance, and the force of passions
and misdirected affections ; so mixed is our
whole nature, that it may often be impossible
to apply this rule in relation to individuals, with
out hazarding the indulgence of a harsh and
censorious spirit of judgment on private charac
ter. But the general aspect of society will fur
nish evidence enough to show that in this man
ner the lives, tempers, and characters of the
mass of those who freely embrace, or decidedly
reject, a religion, will afford, if not unerring, yet
certainly very strong indications of the so urce
from whence it springs.
V. There is certainly no just ground for infer
ring, a priori, that such a revelation would be

104
fitted for the use of all mankind, and not confin
ed to a particular people, or a. narrow sect of
learned philosophers. The mysterious.fact, that
the blessings of liberty, letters, scienee, and mo
rals have been distributed in such very unequal
proportions among the numerous families and
member of the human race, affords a pow
erful analpgioal argument against any such ex
pectation. But if a revelation, when actually
made, did claim to be of universal use, and of
eternal interest and duration; if its first teach
ers and early disciples were commanded to go
abroad and instruct all the world in a religion.
whiqh was to endure until the end of time ;
then it seems clear that that religion would not
be necessarily connected with any local cause or
temporary state of society, and far less with any
positive, human institution, civil or political.
A religion, thus independent of external cir
cumstances, would accordingly be able to exert
an efficacy in all climes, and in every stage of
civilization. It could exist alike in the rudest
and in the most cultivated states, from pastoral
simplicity to the most artificial and complicated
forms of refined and polished life.-
This indication of truth has a two-fold aspect.
It may be tried by an enlarged and philosophical
observation of man, as he exists in various stages
of refinement, and under contrary forms of go-

105
vernment and civil order, and there tracing the
influence which religion has been found to pos
sess over his actions and character. So far this
inquiry is fitted only for well-informed a_id curi
ous minds.
But it has also a direct and personal applica
tion. Every one who is awakened to a sense of
his real wants, and becomes wearied with the
burden of his own vices, may judge for and
from himself, whether or no this religion, which
freely invites the acceptance of all, and which he
sees professed and obeyed by so many persons
of various stations and dispositions, be not also
fitted for himself; as if the peculiarities of his
individual situation and character, his own pri
vate errors, sufferings, or crimes, had been fore
seen and provided for by its benevolent and om
niscient Author. In this manner it was that the
religion of Palestine has commended itself to
the affections and consciences of the inhabitants
of Greenland and Caffraria. Thus, too, the doc
trines originally proclaimed to the poor and illite
rate, by men unskilled in all human science, have
subdued the will and enlightened the understand
ings of such men as Newtori, Pascal, and Hale.
I am indebted, for the suggestion of this pecu
liar and very interesting view of the universal
nature of the Christian dispensation, to an elo
quent and original passage in the admirable
14

106
Dudleian Lecture of Dr. Channing, of Boston,
which it would be doing an injustice to this head
of the argument not to quote. It does not com- "
prise the whole range of this striking principle's
operation ; but it is impossible to paint more
powerfully, or more beautifully, the adaptation of
Christianity to those habits and sentiments which
spring up in the advancement of knowledge and,
refinement, and seem destined to continue for
ages, as they have done for the last, three cen
turies, to spread themselves more and more wide
ly over the human race.
" I Will make," says he, " one remark on this
" religion, which strikes my own mind very for-
" cibly. Since its introduction, human nature
" has made great progress, and society experi-
" enced great changes; and, in the advanced
-"- condition of the world, Christianity, instead of
" losing its application and importance, is found
"to be mpre and more congenial and adapted
" to man's nature and wants. Men have out-
" grown the other institutions of that period
" when Christianity appeared, its philosophy, its
" modes of warfare, its policy, its public and pri-
" vate economy; but Christianity has never
" shrunk as intellect has opened ; but has al-
", ways kept in advance of man's faculties, and
w unfolded nobler views in proportion as they
" have ascended.; The highest powers and
" affections which our nature has developed find

107
"more than adequate objects in this religion
"Christianity is indeed peculiarly fitted for the-
" more improved stages of society, to the more
" delicate sensibilities of refined minds, and es-
" peeially to that dissatisfaction of the present
" state which always grows with the growth of our
"moral powers and affections. As men advance
" in civilization they become susceptible of men-
"tal suffering to which ruder ages are strangers;
" and these, Christianity is fitted to assuage. Im-
*' agination and intellect become more restless;,
" and Christianity brings them tranquillity, by the
"eternal and 'magnificent truths, the solemn and
"unbounded prospects, which it unfolds. This
" fitness of our religion to more advanced stages.
" of society than that in which it was introduced,
"to wants of human nature, not then developed,
" seems to me very striking.. The religion bears
" the marks of having come from a Being who-
" perfectly understood the human mind, and had
" power to provide for its progress. This feri-
" tul*e of Christianity is of the nature of prophe-
" cy* It is an anticipation of future and distant
"ages ; and when we consider among whom our
" religion sprung up, where but in God can we
" find an explanation of this peculiarity ?"*

. * "Discourse on the Evidences of Revealed Religion; delivered before the
University of Cambridge, (Massachusetts,) at the Dudlcian Lecture, by
William C. Channing, Boston, 1821." This tract contains, among many

108
The several heads which have been succes
sively touched upon, furnish us a very brief and
imperfect Sketch of some pprtion of the evidence
resulting from the reasonableness, the tendency,
and the efficient moral power ofrevel'lation. May
not the manner in which it is presented, and the
motives by which it is enforced and recommend
ed, add some additional weight to this evidence ?
VI. In corroboration of the foregoing marks of
authenticity, it seems proper to add, that it would'
be natural and reasonable to think, that such a
dispensation as has been described, coming from
him who perfectly knows what is in man, and
how he is to be swayed, would not be addressed
solely to his intellect ; but that while its purity
and excellence would call forth his admiration
and reverence, it would* by its personal applica
tion* and by the manner in which it enforces its
claims, bythe motives which it propounds, and
the examples which it sets forth, come home to
the inmost breasts of individuals, and would act
through the affections as well as upon them ; pu-
other, views of great value, a most perspicuous and philosophical statement
of the true principles upon which our belief in human testimony is regu
lated. It is no mean praise to any reasoner, to be able to throw new light
upon a subject which has employed the minds of Hume, Campbell, Reid.,
and Price. Out of his own city; Dr. Channing is chiefly known as a con
troversial writer. His peculiar opinions are not mine ; but I could
not pass by this opportunity of calling the public attention to a work
which does equal honour to the literature and the philosophy of our ,
country.

109
rifying and regulating the passions, by the opera
tion ofthe passions themselves; calling not upon
self-love, or upon the sense of duty alone, but
kindling in the heart, shame or sorrow, gratitude,
zeal, and love.
The beams which flowfrom the great Source of
all mental illumination, might be expected to have
heat as well as light. They wpuld warm as well as
illuminate. As, in all the great concerns of life,
man is most efficiently moved by those motives
which rouse, animate, and excite him, or which
alarm his fears, or touch his feelings; as he is
so constituted that eloquence and poetry must
have always greater sway over him than calm
logic, so it would seem probable (for this is not
proposed as a direct and certain proof) that a
religion which delivered to him so momentous a
message, which was to wake him from the sleep
of death, and raise him to new life, would come
clothed with poWer over his hopes, and fears, and
passions. He is guilty, and his conscience may
be alarmed. Though immersed in the low cares
of a moment, he is capable of large discourse,
looking before and after, and he may be made to
tremble or to exult at the prospect of the future.
In the retrospection of the past he may find cause
for bitter regret, or for gratitude. Above all, he
is encompassed with sorrows, and he may be
soothed or consoled ; he may be purified and

no
humbled, and made wiser and better by afflic
tions. A religion that so governed its disciples
must be one of truth and power.
I do not wish to be understood as maintaining,
nor do I in fact believe, that each of these* several
internal marks of veracity and authority, could
"have been actually established from reasoning,
previous to any experience, by the most enlight
ened and persevering inquirers of antiquity.
They are stated simply as propositions, which
are, in fact, derived from the knowledge of Chris
tianity, and which, in all ordinary human probabi-,
lity, would never have been known without it,;
yet, like much other moral wisdom to which the
same light has guided us, they are in the highest
degree probable, on principles of pure reason j
and such as Socrates or Plato would have assent
ed to, had they been proppsed to them without
reference to their bearing upon any particular
system of faith or ethics.
True philosophy could not but acknowledge
that that religion must be divine whose doctrines,.
while they were beyond human discovery, are
also consonant to reason ; whose morals are of
surpassing excellence, and yet original in their
perfection, in their application, and their con
sistency ; whose moral efficacy over its real dis
ciples is energetic and unparalleled ; whose pure
ethics, and whose wonderful doctrines, are so in*

Ill
terwoven that those who spurn at the one will
reject the other ; which is fitted for men of all de
grees, giving wisdom to the foolish and sight to
the blind, and which acts riot alone by instructing
the understanding, but by filling the heart.
To the truth of such a religion a genuine phi
losophy must assent, and could Christianity be
received as a speculative theory, without fur
ther claims upon us, it would always extort the
assent of thinking men. But the wise of this
world have, like others, their passions, appetites,
and prejudices; and they have, more than others,
their pride of opinion, and their love of distinc
tion : the light pf truth too often becomes pain
ful to their senses, and they can shut the eyes of
their understanding against its beams.
We may safely apply these rules of judgment
to all that pretends to be divine revelation, or su
pernatural history, in classical or in oriental my
thology, or in the Mahometan creed. I say to
all that pretends to be revelation, since there is,
in most false religions, some admixture of natu
ral morality, or of traditional truth, which is ra
ther debased and polluted, than strengthened by
the doctririal and positive religious creed.
What is there in any of them not previously
discoverable, and in fact, long before actually dis
covered by reason, which is yet at once acknow
ledged as true when proposed, and as excellent in

112
itself? Examine even the simplest, wisest, and
purest of them all, the religion of Mahomet, by the
test — I will not say of Christian ethics, but, of
an enlightened heathen philosophy ; and in the
blind fatalism which it teaches, in the wars of con
quest and desolation, the incitement to which is
wrought into the very substance ofthe religion, in
the polygariiy, and the consequent degradation of
the female sex, which it not only permits, but ex
pressly encourages— how much is thCre in obvi
ous contradiction to the safest conclusions of
reason, and the instructions of experience
with regard to man's moral nature, and the
welfare and 'happiness of society? If We. pro
ceed to consider the probable effects of any of
these religious opinions, we shall find (with the
exception of that portipn of Christian belief and
morals, which Mahomet has incorporated into
his system) nothing to elevate or to purify, and
every thing to depress and degrade the intellec
tual and social character of man. •
Such is their obvious tendency ; but the actual
practical result, as witnessed in every age, and
throughout the fairest portions of the earth; is yet
more gloomy than the theory could have led us
to anticipate. There, over the noblest races of
mankind, upon whom nature has poured her gifts
in lavish exuberance, an all-pervading political,
and. a far more gloomy and depressing domestic

113
tyranny, has established her empire ; there the
mind slumbers, unawakened by any of those in
spiring motives and ennobling contemplations
which invigorate its energies, dignify its pursuits,
" spread the young thought, and warm the open-
" ing heart."
If, in some of those bright periods of anti
quity, to which literary enthusiasm loves to turn,
some few. amongst those who dwelt in dark
ness, and bowed down before idols, were capable
of the grandest exertions of genius, on which
posterity still gazes with admiration, how feeble,
how partial, was their influence upon the mass of
the community ! How slight the effects of the
compositions of the wisest philosophers, and the
greatest of poets upon the intellectual character,
and how much less upon the moral habits and
opinions of their countrymen. These few and,
scattered lights, served hut to show the thickness
of the gloom by which they were surrounded.
The lofty and grave strains of their eloquent
sages, and their poets —

Teachers best

Of moral prudence, with delight received
In brief sententious precepts, while they treat
Of fate, and chance, and change, in human life,
High actions and high passions best describing —
fell sweetly on the ear, but could never reach the
hearts of the worshippers of licentious, sensual,
and cruel divinities. 15

114
r It is not, therefore, any transgression against
the sound ..rules of the InduCtive Philosophy,
when, without much consideration, and certainly
without any very critical examination of its ex
ternal testimonies, we reject the Koran, and the
whole Mahometan creed, simply upon the moral
internal evidence of its falsehood, and say with
. Jereriiy Taylor — ¦" He that considers, concerning
"the religion and person of Mahomet, that he
"(the prophet) was a vicious person, lustful and
" tyrannical ; that he propounded incredible and
" ridiculous propositions to his disciples ; that it
" (the religion) entered, by the sword, hy blood
" and violence, by murder and robbery ; that it
" propounds sensual rewards, and allures to com-
" pliance by bribing our basest lusts ; that it con-
"tinues itself by, the same means it entered;
" that it is unlearned and foolish, against reasPn,
" and the discourse of all wise men ; in short,
" that in the person that founded it, in the article
" it, persuades, in the manner of prevailing, in
" the reward it offers, it is unholy, and foolish,
"and rUde ; it must needs appear to be void
" of all pretence, and that no man of reason can
" ever be fairly persuaded by argument, that it is
" the daughter of God, and came down from -
"heaven."*

* Ductor Dubitantium.

115
This is a just and natural course of reasoning.
Now, it is by a process of ratiocination, of pre
cisely the same logical character, and found
ed on the same principles, that, from our moral
approbation ofthe doctrines, precepts, and influ
ence of Christianity, we may, independently of
all the external attestations to its miraculous pro
pagation and primitive history, without justly ex
posing ourselves to the , charge of being either
weak or fanatical, embrace that religion, whose
goodness and excellence, to borrow again some
of the beautiful imagery of Taylor — " enters
among men like rain into a fleece of wool, or the
sun into a window, without noise or violence,
Without emotion or disordering the political con
stitution, without trouble to any man, but what
his own ignorance and peevishness causes; which
defended itself against enemies by^patience, and
overcame them by kindness, and was the great
instrument of God, to demonstrate his power in
our weaknesses, and to do good to mankind by
the demonstration of his excellent goodness ; a
religion changing the face of things, piercing in
to the secrets ofthe soul, unravelling the myste
ries of all hearts, reforming vile thoughts, and
breaking vile habits into, gentleness and coun
sel." Indeed, it appears to me, that the applying, in
this way, the argument against the possibility of

116
any internal evidence of religion level to human
comprehension, whichtakes for granted man' sen-
tire incompetence to judge of God's works and
will, to the superstitions of India, or to any other
religious system, inculcating, as a necessary part
of its doctrine, false, sensual or corrupt morality,
is a fair ezperimentum Crucis, (to use the lan
guage and the logic of Bacon,) and affords a deci
sive proof of its unsoundness. If those who hold
this opinion, be correct in their general principles
and deductions, then it is a legitimate consequence,'
that an imirioral and impure religion, one dan
gerous to the good order of society, degradingthe
man, and corrupting the citizen— the Hindoo su
perstition, for example," with all its rabble of di
vinities, and its varied abominations of worship,
would stand precisely on the same ground of au
thority and claim for reception, with a doctrine of
purity and holiness, previous to the examination
of the history and external proofs bf either. We
must look merely to that part of their attestation,
and the very same quantit yand proportion of it
would be sufficient for either or for both/
Without doubt, this conclusion is against the
common sense of all men, and in contradiction
to the manner in which we are all irresistibly
led to form our estimates of any dogmas or pre- .
eepts whatever, which are authoritatively pro
posed for our belief and obedience.

117
Every one who will seriously reflect upon the
subject, will be able to fill up for himself the
details of the several heads pf inquiry which
have been rather generally stated than explain
ed in the foregoing pages. This he can do for
himself much more satisfactorily than it can be
done for him by another ; since, from the moral
and physical diversity of human consitutions, of
characters, and of personal experience in life,
there are particular points of evidence or argu
ment, which carry to certain minds degrees of
luminousness arid impression which must be far
less distinctly felt by others.
From the whole of these, or from the combi
nation of any number of them, results that cu
mulative effect which has already been repeat
edly insisted upon as a grand characteristic of
this whole evidence ; an effect so powerful in its
impression, and yet so difficult to bC expressed.
In brief, however, the force of the whole ar
gument from the internal evidence of the pro
minent truths of revelation (as completely se
parated from that of a strictly historical or criti
cal character) maybe thus compendiously stated:
Ifa religion contains and inculcates among
those doctrines, which we are sure are funda
mental and essential to it, and neither our in
ferences from its law.., nor positive human in
stitutions or inventions, engrafted upon them,

US
none directly contrary to the first and universal
principles of sound reason or the fundamental
truths of morals, even though some of these doc
trines may be widely different from what we
might have, with no small probability conjectured,
or have, from analogy, presumed to be true —
If these doctrines (on this very account just sta
ted, not likely to have been invented by man to
deceive man) contain, many facts and instruc
tions, which reason never _did nor never could
discover, but when once announced, and can
didly weighed, are perceived to be true, right
and just; and though not discoverable by the
understanding, are yet in accordance, with it ; or,
though never before observed, yet now agree
with present observation and past experience—
If these relate to the most solemn and impor
tant subjects, to which the mind can be applied,
such as the nature, and government, and attributes
of the Creator ; the state, duties, anddestinies of
men — -
If they declare to us, simply and powerfully,
those secrets ofthe heart, which all have felt,
bUt nonp have told, none understood —
If their tendencies are altogether perfective of
our nature, to alter, to improve, to elevate the
character, teaching new duties, supplying new
assistances, kindling holier aspirations, and sug
gesting higher motives — ¦-

119 i
If all this be not only the obvious intention
and tendency of these doctrines, but their appa
rent and practical effect, though that should be
as yet partial and imperfect—
If, when they are rejected, disregarded, or cor
rupted, there may be ordinarily traced some cor
responding moral defect in actions and dispo
sitions, which are either the efficient cause of
such rejection, or result as a consequence from
it— If their secret and gCntle influence has extend
ed to thousands, upon whom the restraints of
human law are necessarily very feeble, and by
whom the systematic instructions of human wis~
dom could never be comprehended, as well as to
many others of mote cultivated intelligence, up
on Whom the moralist,
Strutting and vapouring in an empty school,
Had spent his force, but jnade jno proselyte—
If all these doctrines, precepts, and motives,
are singularly adapted to the sympathies, the af
fections, the miseries, and the frailties of man
kind — then we arrive at a very high degree of mo
ral certainty that this religion is true.
The mbre numerous, and the more important,
the particulars in which such marks of moral
truth meet, the greater this probability becomes,
and, by the accumulation of many such indica
tions of truth, the honest inquirer may attain to a

120
well-founded and satisfactory moral assurance,
independent of any proof of an historical or criti
cal nature.
But this evidence is not intended to be inope
rative. It is not given to gratify learned curiosi
ty. If, then, the inquirer is content to look up
on it in that light, to regard it as an uninterested
spectator, to suffer it to remain as it were exter
nal to him, he will imperfectly comprehend that
pure and peaceable wisdom which is from above.
Pleasure breathes her soft influence over his
senses, or the blast of some stern and fierce pas
sion arises, and all this goodly show of argument
and reason vanishes into air. The clear conclu
sions, to which his understanding assented, then
fade away into visionary indistinctness, and he
turns gladly to rest his mind on the palpable real
ities of the world.
But if, after the first willing reception of the
doctrines of Jesus, or of those parts of them most
consonant to the understanding, the necessities,
or the affections of the individual — no matter up
on what ground of reason, or sentiment, or autho
rity, or, we may add, of prejudice and custom,
they may have been embraced, their moral effi-
, cacy is not simply observed, but felt and experi
enced ; if it be from his own heart, that he, who
confesses the faith, draws his confidence that it
is from God ; if he finds this to be not only a

. 121
convincing but a growing and germinant evi
dence, becoming clearer the more it is studied,
and more intense the more it regulates the
thoughts and life : surely, reason can ask no
higher proof. Such a one has a witness within
himself, and this is, at least to him, a demon
stration. It is, as it were, a kind of personal prophecy
fulfilled-'— -a predictive promise which he finds ac
complished in his own life ; others cannot judge
concerning it, but to himself it is more than ar
gument—it is proof, it is Conviction.
Thus is it, in fact, that these internal evi
dences of Christianity are those upon which it is
most generally, and far most sincerely and fer
vently, believed ; so that the unlettered Christian,
who is utterly ignorant of that body of history
and learning which attests the veracity of the
Gospel narrative ; and who, so far from being
able to refute the objections of an ingenious op
ponent, would find it exceedingly difficult, (or
not improbably, wholly impossible,) to explain
the reasons of his belief to another, may yet
possess a ground of confidence in its truth, not
resting upon logical argument, yet of a strictly
rational character, which, in his mind, could de
rive but little additional strength from the
learned labours of Lardner, the ingenuity of
Warburton, or the sagacity of Paley.
16

122
Doubts which he cannot solve have no power
to disturb him. Objections Which he cannot re
fute do not perplex him. He has the certainty
and the consciousness of truth, and in this he
rests in peace.
For him more learned, yet far more ignorant,
who has no such intimate conviction of the one
great truth, but who can discern speculatively
what he knows others to read within themselves,
what remains? Let him strive

" To seek

Those helps, .for his occasions ever nigh,
Who lacks not will to use them ;vows renewed
On the first motion of a holy thought,
Vigils of contemplation j praise and prayer —
A stream vvbicb, from the fountains of the heart
Issuing however feebly, nowhere flows
Without access of unexpected strength.
But, above all, the victory is most sure
To him, who, seeking faith by virtue, strives
To yield entire submission to the law
Of Conscience ; — Conscience reverenced and obeyed^
As God's most intimate presence in the soul,
And his most perfect image in the world." Wordsworth.

ESSAY IV.
The Intention and Uses ofthe different Kinds of Evidences
for the Truth of Christianity.
In the two preceding Essays it has been endea
voured to present a sketch ofthe more prominent
of those arguments fbr the divine origin of Chris
tianity, which may be drawn from that internal
evidence of truth which its doctrines contain.
These are, in the main, of a nature which causes
them to be more frequently felt than advanced,
and renders them more fit for the conviction of
the individual who comprehends them, than for
the exercise of logical ingenuity in contending
with the captious and sceptical. Yet they are so
strong, that I cannot but believe that it must be
more from want of clearness in the statement
than of force in the arguments, if it has not been
satisfactorily proved, that when divines, philoso
phers, and scholars, whose opinions are other
wise entitled to high respect, impressed with a
deep conviction of the frailty of human reason,
and the presumption of theoretical speculation,
deny that we have, or can have, any means of
judging of the authority of revealed truth inde-

124
pendently of its outward attestations, they carry
a principle sound in itself to a fallacious and
very dangerous extreme.
A rapid review of the 'principles which have
been before established or examined, may lead
us on to other inquiries intimately Connected
With these, and throw some light upon the Charac
ter of the revelation, and the intention and uses
of its various evidences.
The error which has been combated is chiefly
founded in the opinion that man's ignorance of
his duties, character, and revelation to his Ma
ker, independently of express revelation, is total.
But if there be, as all nature eries aloudj and as
revelation itself teaches — if there be in man some
power, however feeble, of discerning or discover
ing moral truths, the truths thus within the reach
of reason cannot but harmonize with those of re
vealed religion. Truth cannot be in hostility to
itself. On the contrary, all truth, and especially
all truth ofthe same species, and relating to the
same class of beings, is mutually connected, and
in full accordance throughout; so that Hooker
had good ground for his sublime metaphysical
conjecture, that it may possibly be, " that by long
circuit of deduction, all truth out of any truth
may be concluded."
It has been stated and shown that, upon this
account, the rational and moral internal evidence

125
would consist primarily in an agreemerit and har
mony between the revealed religion, and the clear
intuitions or unaided deductions of reason, re
specting our moral character and obligations, and
the power and being of a great First Cause.
Besides this, reason, though limited on every side,
and its most daring and most successful exercise
constantly reminding us of our feebleness and
blindness, is yet able to compare, weigh; examine,
and judge many things when submitted to her
inspection, which no undirected search or unas
sisted effort of her own could have ever reached.
In the investigation of the laws of mathematics
and physics, an every-day understanding can fol
low each step ofthe demonstrations, and rest with
certainty in those conclusions of science, the ac
tual discovery of which had been reserved for
those rare intellects, whose appearance in our
world, from time to time, marks the great epochs
of the history of knowledge. In a manner ana
logous to this natural revelation, the patient and
teachable mind is capable of comprehending the
various rational perceptions of truth, beauty, and
conformity to right reason, which shine forth in
the sublimer moral revelation of the divine
Teacher. Nor is it solely by means of the cold and ab
stract perceptions of truth, by the dry, clear light
of intellect, the lumen siccum, (as Bacon terms it,)

126
that man is enabled to see the value of his reli
gion. He has within himself a more efficacious^
test. The heart Joiows its own sorrows ; and he
that has tasted how bitter is the knowledge of
good and evil, and has been taught by the stern
discipline of life to look into himself, be
comes capable at length of comparing the reli
gion offered to his acceptance with his own moral
nature, and of judging of its adaptation to his pre
sent infirmities, sorrows, or needs, and to his.'
hopes and his dread of futurity. It is not, then,
only as a guide to the understanding that it is
offered, but as a medicine to the heart and con
science. To these, it- comes with arguments
" which leave us something of choice and love,
"and though not as evident as the principles of
" geometry, yet as sure. It is so humane, so per-
" suasive,. so complying with the nature and infir-
" mities of man, with the actions of his life and his
" manner of operation, that it seems to have been
" created on purpose for the needs and uses
" of this life, for virtues and for hopes, for faith
" and for charity, to make us believe by love and
" love by believing."*
Lastly, when the operation and influence of this
faith, upon the characters and lives of those who
embrace it, are observed, we find that these effects,
* Jeremy Taylor.

127
so far forth as they are good, are clearly, and by
the confession of all its followers, to be ascribed to
the power of the religion so received ; while the
evil mixed up with it is as evidently an evil of im
perfection, riot in harmony with its precepts or
tendencies, nor naturally springing from its doc
trine, (in the manner in which brutal passions and
degrading vices are necessarily excited, or che
rished, or commanded by the oriental or ancient
superstitions,) but is in plain opposition to all its
clearest precepts and strongest motives, and
therefore proves only that this religion is not
usually immediate, perfect, and irresistible inits
control. Such a result, whether inferred from the
exterior conduct of others, or known and felt by
the believer himself, from the comparison of his
present with his past character, forms another and
very copious source of moral testimony.
All this constitutes a Chain of legitimate de
monstration according to the strictest rules which
the inductive philosophy has laid down for the
investigation of riature's laws. Considered intel
lectually, without reference to personal feelings,
it is founded upon the same principle which
teaches the sagacious and enlightened physician
to repose, with unhesitating confidence, upon the
chemical or mechanical powers of those remedies
whose efficacy he has repeatedly witnessed. It
is within the comprehension of the humblest

128
and most uncultivated minds, whiph are Usu
ally those which most readily imbibe the spi-*
rit of this religion, and exult in its hopes, and
abound in its fruits. At the same time, it has no
cause to shrink from the scrutiny of those true
philosophers who have been disciplined in the
school of rigid science, and there taught, that
though the magnificent speculations of mere
theory are as gratifying to our vanity as they
are indulgent to our indolence, real know
ledge is only to be attained by seeking it with
cheerful submission and humhle diligence in the
rough paths of experience.
If this be correct, Christianity carries with it
its own evidence to those who are willing to find
it true ; and to the mass of mankind its authority
will always be most powerfully enforced by the
simple and clear exposition of its leading doc
trines, the inculcation of its plainest precepts,
and the manifestation of its nature and opera
tion, exhibited in the " daily beauty" of the lives
of its disciples. From these causes, and neither
from blind submission to authority, nor from the
wild impulses of an undiscerning enthusiasm, it
has been honoured and obeyed by thousands who
have walked humbly through life, guided by hope,
and feeling, and faith, and not by book-learned
wisdom ; but who, in the very exercise of that
faith, feeling, and hope, have, at the same time,

129
exerted the highest and surest powers of the un
derstanding. I am well aware that the statements which
have here been given of this great argument, are
somewhat loose and general. This has arisen
partly from a desire to present in one view its
broad and grand features, without distracting the
attention, or exciting the prejudices of any, by
the introduction of the debateable points pf the
ological controversy ; but more because it is a
subject where every man must, in a good degree,
furnish for himself the materials for his own judg
ment ; and the manner in which he decides is
governed and controlled by moral causes, acting
in a way which it is difficult or impossible to ex
plain distinctly in words. It may, therefore, be
variously received by various dispositions, and
even oppositely by the same person undCr differ
ent circumstances. It is best studied in the
books and practice ofthe religion itself; and the
force of the argument consists not in the logical
accuracy of its deductions, but in the power which
its several parts bear conviction to the heart.
There is a broad and undefined grandeur in
the great truths of religion, mysteriously parta
king of the infinite character of their Author, and
ofthe eternal uses to which he has destined them.
Being intended for the illumination of mil
lions of different intellects, upon many millions of
17

130
occasions, they cannot be reduced into the form
of logical definitions and technical system, with
out losing a part of their sublimity and beauty,
and far more pf their power. It is not meant to
deny that systems and articles of faith have their
use in excluding error, and perhaps in facilitating
the acquisition of knowledge; but such vast truths
cannot pass through any human intellect, and be
adapted to the comprehension of any particular
understanding, Without, in some measure, assu
ming the character of mere human science, by be
ing, as it Were, narrowed down to that limited
standard, and curtailed of that comprehensive
ness, which, in the midst of the greatest simplici
ty, abounds with measureless variety of instruc
tions and motives. What to pne mind may be
dark or wholly incomprehensible, or, if under
stood, thrown aside as of no practical use, to
another, may be full of light and truth.
I know, too, that in the eyes of some of those
who are inclined to reduce all revelation to a
mere authoritative declaration of natural moral
ity, some of these positions may seem extrava
gant, and perhaps fanatical.
Of this every reader must judge for himself.
But I cannot refrain from quoting, not for the
purpose of authority, but for that of illustration,
a passage from one of Bishop Horsley's Sermons,
in which he expresses, evidently as the result of

131
his own personal observation, (for he reiterates
and insists upon the same opinions in other parts
of his works,) his Conviction of the effect of the
study of our English Bible, upon a sincere and in
quiring, but illiterate Christian. It presents more
personally and practically, but substantially the
veiy same estimate of the strength of the inter
nal evidence which has been maintained in these
pages. This attestation i_.±__e____are valuable* as
it comes from, a scholar of uncommonly varied
and splendid . acquirements, and a reasoner of
great intellectual vigour and comprehension, who
may be singled out from among all thp great wri
ters of our own day, as having rendered the most
marked homage of intellect to the majesty of
truth. With little of a devotional spirit— I speak not
of his personal character, but of the tone of his
writings — with little sympathy for the elevation,
the sentiment, or even for the poetry of Chris
tianity, still, the clear convictions of his luminous
understanding gave unhesitating submission to
its doctrines — -perhaps without his feeling, and
certainly without his much relying upon, or at
all giving expression to, the warmer emotions of
the heart.
"I shall not scruple to assert," says this strong
and original writer, in a passage marked with all
the peculiarities, of his style and turn of thought,

132
in which he speaks ofthe proficiency which may
be made in Christian knowledge by studying the
scriptures, without any other commentary or ex
position thari what the different parts bf the sa
cred volume furnish eaCh other — "that the most
" illiterate Christian; if he can but read his En-
" glish Bible, and will take the pains to read it in
" this way, will not only attain to all that practical
" knowledge whichJs necessary to his salvation,
" but by God's help he wiU become learned in
" every thing relating to his religion in such a de-
"gree that he would not be liable to be misledj
" either by the refined arguments, or by the false
(t assertions of those who endeavour to engraft
ie their own opinions upon the oracles of God.
" He may safely be ignorant of all philosophy i
" except what is to be learned from the sacred
" books, which, indeed, contain the highest phi
losophy, adapted to the lowest apprehensions.
" He may safely remain ignorant of all history,
"except so much of the history ofthe first ages
'¦' of the Jewish and Christian churches, as is to
" be gathered from the canonical books of the Old
" and New Testament. Let him study these in
" the manner I recommend, and let him never
" cease to pray for the illumination of that Spirit
"by which these books were dictated, and the
" whole compass of abstruse philosophy and re-
"condite history shall furnish no argument witk

133
"which the perverse will of man shall be able ta
"shake this learned Christian's faith. The Bi-
" ble thus studied, will prove what we Protestants
" esteem it, a certain and sufficient rule of faith
"and practice, which alone may quench the fiery
" darts of the wicked,"*
Here a very curious, and certainly a very im
portant inquiry, naturally suggests itself. If this
religion contain so large and so efficacious a share
pf its evidence within itself— nf the sacred boojts
which teach it, bear witness unto themselves, it
may be naturally asked what is the use or imppr«
taupe of any additionalproofl.  ...
What occasion can there be for historical, or
critical, or other evidences . What have we to do
with deductions from human learning, in history,
languages or antiquities 1 May not the study of
such evidences be worse than useless ? Are not
all these things the presumptuous and vain in
ventions of man, ambitious to add his little mite
to the measureless treasures of his Maker's wis
dom ?
These are not sceptical difficulties, raised
only to be answered. It is very truei, that
they are not now commonly to be met with in
the books ofthe day, nor are they ever heard
from the pulpits of our educated clergy; but
they have no inconsiderable sway over the opi-
, * Horsley's Five Seqrjon?.

134
nions of many, who, thoUgh scorned by some as
fanatical, are allowed by all to be honest, whose
sincerity and fervour give them a large and just
influence in the community ; and whose pure zeal
and humble virtues will always command the re
spect of the wise and good. Nor are these opi
nions without the countenance of great names.
There are passages in the works of Calvin, which j
if they do not amount to a distinct avowal of this
sentiment in its full extent, afford ground for
thinking that this was the inclination ofthe great <
Reformer's mind.
But by f___^t__e__tno_3t_-_-diiaJ_le.rejult to. be ex
pected from such an inquiry is, that its prosecu-
tiori must necessarily involve the establishment
of some principles of great and extensive utility;
and the knowledge of these may serve to give us
more distinct perceptions of the character and
uses of the Christian evidences.
To the questions which have just been asked,
it may be a sufficient reply, in general terms, that
it has pleased the Almighty to offer a variety of
inducements to invite, and various confirmations
to strengthen, according to their acquirements or
talerits, the faith of those who receive his com
mandments and instructions, with "an honest and
good heart," as well as to leave obstinate incre
dulity, or scarcely less culpable negligence, with
out excuse, by connecting with the records of his

135
manifestation of himself to mankind, strong ex
ternal attestations, similar to the evidence upon
which we believe and act in the ordinary affairs
of life. It is, moreover, quite clear that the ex
ternal corroboration of the miraculous history
of revelation^ is well fitted to command atten
tion and to invite to serious examination, thus
giving a more authoritative character to its whole
system of doctrines. Had it been proposed,
without any external corroboration, as an unsup
ported body of moral truth, it might have seemed,
to cultivated minds, and bold reasoners, a beauti
ful and probable speculation, but resting upon the
same foundation with the ethics of Socrates or
Cicero ; and, therefore, one which we are not
imperatively called upon to receive as the unerr
ing guide of life and opinion. They would, for
this reason, feel themselves perfectly at liberty to
select from it, and adopt thpse parts only most
corigenial to their tastes and dispositions, most
conformable to their preconceived notions, and
least hostile to the idols of their own secret
worship.* A more ample and satisfactory development
of the whole subject will be furnished by consi
dering separately these several points :
I. The relation which these distinct species of
evidence betr to the external circumstances, the
I I ¦¦ I .11 - ¦¦!. t II .1 n_ II
* See note G.

136'
characters., tempers, and moral dispositions of
individuals. II. The order and apparent intention of Provi
dence in the unequal distribution of certain intel-^
lectual gifts, and in the Several means of infor
mation offered to the difl^^nt^elasisea-of-society,
and the consequent duties imposed upon men'
arising from the talents, natural or acquired, re
spectively committed to their trust.
III. The extent to which the internal evidence
can be applied and made to bear witness to the au
thority of any doctrines or commandments ; and
as intimately connected with this consideration —
IV. The source of the peculiar claim to au-1
thority, which is due to the, whole body of revela
tion, extending even to the obligation of its ritual
and positive institutions.
The internal evidence, in its highest and pe
culiar sense, as has before been observed, is en
tirely of a moral nature. When the first teachers
of Christianity proclaimed the necessity of belief
and repentance, coupling them together ,as form
ing the necessary groundwork and first stages of
the Christian character, that is no accidental or
arbitrary association. It is in congruity with the
nature of man, who, frail, feeble, and uncertain
in his purposes, is yet of " large discourse of rea
son, looking before and after." Half animal and
half intellectual, he is born the slave of passions,

137
which frequently overpower, but oftener delude,
that reason which is entitled to rule and restrain
them. But the doctrines of such a religion as
ours are little suited to be, on their own account,
even speculatively allowed by men unawakened
to a sense of their own real wants and their true
nature, who are dazzled with the bright phantoms
of life, or maddened with its pleasures, fevered
with the contests of ambition, or eager in the pur
suit of wealth. It is true, that if we bring to their
contemplation pure eyes and uncorrupted senses,
we may see in them a divine majesty, powerful to
subdue all opposition. " Si puros oculos, et in-
tegros sensus afferimus, statim occurret Dei ma*
jestas, qua., subacta rectamandi audacia nos sibi
parere cogat,"* says Calvin, and he says wisely
and well. But when the pure eyes and uncor
rupt senses are not there, the doctrines well-
suited to their apprehension will seem to eyes
blinded by the glories, and to senses blunted by
the pleasures of the world, but as cunningly de
vised fables. Or, if not thus scornfully refused,
they will, at least, be received by men wholly oc
cupied with the cares and enjoyments which press
upon their attention as things distant, shadowy,
and unreal, in which, whether true or false, they
have no immediate interest, and if to be submit-

* Calvin. Institut. lib. I. cap. 7.
18

138-
ted to' at all, certainly not until some more cPn-
venient season.
The proud man can see no beauty to charm,
or sign of truth to convince, in the religion of hu
mility, nor the gross sensualist in the doctrines of
purity. He who feels no remorse or shame for
past transgression, cannot be much touched with
an offer of pardon, or cherish any ardent desire
to be relieved from the thraldom of his vices*
Until the gay illusion of life is dissipated, until
man, in the expressive phrase of Jansenist moral
ity, is undeceived, all these things are foolishness
to him. It is needless to show that- these views
are consonant with_the_doctrines of Christianity ;
but/independently of that authority, the observa
tion of mankind and of ourselves will show us
one great law governing our whole moral being—
that moral and religious truth, to be understood,
must be felt ; that men whose deeds are evil, will
" love darkness rather than light," and that, in
order to know dearly the will of our Maker, we
must be desirous to* do it.
Now the historical evidence throughout all its
ramifications is wholly of another sort. It is
founded upon the ordinary rules of testimony,
such as we act upon in the common course of life,
and suCh as regulate the acquisition, and establish
the certainty, of all human knowledge, excepting
only the demonstrative deductions of pure science,

139
in the ancient and strictest sense of that term. It
requires no peculiarity of moral disposition to
precede or to accompany it. It demands nothing
of those who are of competent good sense and
information, but ordinary fairness and candour.
It is true, that even here, prejudices, arising from
repugnancy to the purifying and humbling doc
trines of redemption, may intrude, and produce
self-willed blindness, or, perhaps, rise to an infu
riated malignity of opposition. Still, this kind of
evidence is such, that whoever is competent to de
cide upon any other mass of historical facts, may
judge of this also, if he will consider it with that
same share of candid attention which is necessary
to form a just estimate of any complicated chain
of evidence whatever. This honest and fair re
ception of historical truth, allowing it to be wholly
speculative, and, for a season, inoperative, is yet
well fitted to prepare the mind for submission to
the grander and more effieaeious doctrinal and
ethical truths of which the history is but the vehi
cle. The full possession and comprehension of the
external evidence is like going back to the apos
tolic age, and placing before our own eyes the
very miracles performed in authentication of the
divine message ; and though it was said of old,
" Blessed are they that have not seen and, have
believed," there are not wanting minds in any

140
age, who, like the doubting apostle, believe only
because they have seen. Having satisfied them
selves that the books ofthe scriptures contain the
will of God, they receive that will — if not gladly,
yet still tliey do receive it. Though they may
be blind to much of its excellence and its beauty,
and feel little or nothing of its power, they find
themselves compelled, as honest men, to allow
its truth ; and thus it is not unfrequently found
that, as the majority of unlearned Christians are
led to belief and knowledge by the affections or
sorrows of the heart, so, in another much smaller
class of improved and cultivated intellects, the
understanding is first coldly convinced by meta
physical or historical proofs, and when that con
viction has taken firm root, it is often made, by
tiriie and culture, to produce a nobler and purer
faith, arid to bring forth plenteously the peaceful
fruits of righteousness.
It is plain that this process of conviction, and
these appeals to historical proof, are out of the
reach of many ; and in some ages and countries
must be exceedingly limited in their influence,
though far less so in our state of society in this
country than in most other parts of the Christian
world, or than has universally been the case in
former times. It seems probable, too, that this
evidence is destined, in the natural progress of
society, to be of far greater efficacy than it now

141
i$. The argument is every day becoming more
popular in its character, and more extensive in its
use, and will continue to become so. This is a
reasonable and natural anticipation from the pre
sent cheering prospects of society, when educa-?
tion is every where making unexampled pro
gress, when the political condition of a large
portion of the human race, in spite of numerous
obstacles, is decidedly improving, and when com
merce, and the spirit of adventure and scientific
curiosity, are making their way in all directions
through the distant and less enlightened nations
ofthe globe.
This is, also, a fair inference from the experi
ence of the last two centuries. It is now about
one hundred and eighty years since the illustrious
Grotius published his learned treatise De Veri
tate, in proof of the truth of Christianity.
This was a book fitted only for scholars, and
could, of course, be read only by a few hundred
persons in all Europe. Yet it was by far the
most popular essay on the subject which had then
been written. How different is the character of
Paley's work on the same subject ! How much
less scholastic, how much more fitted for general
circulation ! And, in fact, it probably is now
read by thousands of readers for every single one
which Grotius' work, with all the deserved popu
larity of its author, had in his day.

142
Some metaphysical , sceptics, arguing from
what La Place has termed the necessary degra
dation of evidence by successive transmission,
have asserted that the whole proof of any history,
as, it recedes from the time of the original wit
nesses, is continually growing fainter and fainter,
from the chance of mistake or fraud in every suc
cessive stage. Consequently, the fact of the as
sassination of Caesar in the Capitol is less proba
ble now than it was in the days of Columbus, and
will become still less so in each succeeding cen
tury. It is not worth while to point out in this
place the obvious fallacy of this position ; but it is
remarkable that in the particular evidence of
Christian history, the fact is now precisely the re
verse- In the progress of society, knowledge has
not only made unexampled attainments, but it .
has spread those attainments more and more
abroad, and in every generation extended its in*-
fiuence to a wider and wider circle. Each age,
as it recedes from that ofthe original witnesses, is
going on to increase the number of secondary
and derivative ones ; to augment the collateral
and circumstantial proofs which corroborate
their declarations, and to make the moral evi
dence shine forth more and more luminously.
Besides this, the diffusion of useful knowledge
among the people in later years, has brought
the historical question, with all its formerly re-

143
condite learning, down to the level of a much
greater number of judges.
If we look back to the period which may be re
garded as the commencing epoch of modern Eu
ropean manners, tastes, opinions, politics, and
letters, beginning at the revolution of 1688, and
going down to the middle of the last century, we
shall see that this field of argUmen^ was then trod
den only by scholars and critics, and the public
combat was between such learned men as Clarke
and Bentley, Bolingbroke and Toland ; while the
sole readers and judges of their labours were the
elegant scholars and well-educated men of the
day. Since that time, reading has become more
universal ; the elements of useful knowledge have
been communicated to thousands, and the anti
quarian and critical facts upon which some parts
of the discussion turn, absolutely and indisputa
bly settled by mutual concessions, or the univer
sal consent ofthe learned. When Christianity is
now assailed on this ground, she no longer de
mands for her defence the profound researches of
a Lardner, and plain artizans and farmers here,
and in some parts of Europe, are able to decide
for themselves between the popular statements of
Paine and Watson. This, accordingly, seems
to be a sort of evidence constantly becoming, and
destined to become, more and more extensive in
its use, and more authoritative, as the decisions

144
upon it are successively confirmed by numerous
and unprejudiced judges. It will grow every
day more powerful as knowledge augments, as
education becomes common, and as liberty and
equal laws give free scope throughput the world
to the " might that slumbers in the peasant's
soul."* In this respect I cannot help thinking,
that the animating prospects which a benevolerit
philosophy suggests-, concerning the high des
tinies of our race, and for the fulfilment of which
she looks Confidently to the mighty agericy of
pbpular education, of the press, and the spirit of
freedom, coincide with the predictions which
revelation has made concerning her own future
triumphs and universal empire.
Let us now proceed a few steps further, and
contemplate this subject as it were from, another
station, and under a different light. We may,
I trust, without presumption, inquire what appears
to be the ultimate design of Providence in this
adaptatiori of evidence to the various ranks and
classes of Christians.
It is an obvious fact, that to very few indeed,
(in. proportion to the whole number in all na
tions and times,) are given the gifts of learning,
even employing that word in its most humble and
limited sense, and not as in any wise implying

1 The might that slumbers in the peasant's arm."

145
the profound scholarship of Bossuet or Bentley,
Porson or Parr.
The external argument, in its several diversi
fied forms and parts, is more peculiarly fitted, as
has been said, to attract the attention, and to sa
tisfy the reason of a certain order of minds.
Amongst these are some, which, though few in
number, are high in authority, and of an almost
unbounded extent of influence over public opi
nion. They are, generally speaking, men who,
either from constitutional character or external
circumstances, are less prepared by the study of
themselves for a grateful reception ofthe faith in
its simple majesty, but who, from having been
long exercised in the affairs of the world, or in
the study of abstract science and curious research,
have been thus trained and rendered expert to
judge of speculative or of external truth. Such
WerC, among divines, Watson and Lardner ; or,
far greater than they, Warburton, and Horsley, and
Barrow ; or among illustrious laymen, such men
as Chancellor D'Aguesseau, and Duplessis Mor-
nai in France ; Grotius and Boerhaave in Hol
land; Lord Bacon, Chief Justice Hale, Lord Pre
sident Forbes, Newton, Locke, Addison, and Sir
William Jones, in Great Britain, and our own
Hamilton. Whether this truth so allowed, remain
dormant, and purely speculative in their minds,
is a question of the highest interest to each of the
19

146
individuals of this class ; but whether it does so
or not, the effect either way of their opinions
and influence, must be very great.
By the natural and essential order of civilized
society, springing out of the universal constitu
tion of human nature, there are very many sub
jects upon which the vast majority must, and
ought, in a considerable degree, to rely ultimate
ly upon the authority of those original and ac
complished minds, who communicate to their
age and nation their own character and impres
sion, as well as more immediately upon that of
the much more numerous, but still comparatively
small, class of enlightened, understandings, who
are able perfectly to estimate the arguments, to
judge ofthe genius, and, to assent rationally to the
deductions of the grander and guiding minds of
the times. Through these channels, the exter
nal evidence comes to illiterate Christians,, not
in the way of arbitrary requisition to submit to
authority without an inquiry, but as resting upon
the deliberate and disinterested decisions of
those well qualified to investigate and decide
thereon. It is consequently entitled to respect
upon the same general principles, and (it ought
to be particularly observed) with the same or si
milar limitations and exceptions, as the un
biassed opinions of any class of professional or
scientific men, in relation to some peculiar object
of their studies.

147
This is in accordance with those common prin
ciples of good sense, upon which, in fact, all in
telligent men are constantly obliged to regulate
their conduct in some or other ofthe most import
ant affairs of life. This rational and qualified
submission to such authority, comprehends some
exercise of candour; humility, and fair judgment
in the estimate of the authority itself. Not un
frequently, too, it comprehends an appeal to the-
reason to weigh the general force of the argu
ment, although the accuracy of its details must
be taken on trust. Without being able to enter
into the details of the question, a man of good
sense may apply his mind to the consideration-,
whether the inferences are fairly drawn; whe
ther the character of any ofthe instructors entitle
him to the confidence he claims ; whether he is a
fair and unbiassed judge or witness ; and what
share personal or professional prejudices or inte
rests may have in inducing him to form the con
clusions he urges upon others.
In this, or some similar way; is insensibly form
ed and adopted to the. use of Christians of every
degree of learning, a most valuable collateral
testimony to the truth of that religion which had
originally recommended itself to their accept
ance, by its purity and excellence; on wholly dif
ferent grounds : while, to those who are stran
gers to its influence, to the youngs the ignorant,

148
aiid the careless, is thus furnished a highly pro
bable prima facie proof of its truth, that at least
commands respect, and asserts an undeniable
claim tp examination and attention- In this way
the external proof; in some sort performs, in our
age, the same office which the original miraculous
attestation accomplished in the primitive times.
This influence, it is quite obvious, will not ope
rate generally and strongly, except in civilized
communities, where the whole body feels the
effect, and can more or less fully estimate the
just worth of its more enlightened members ;
and where, too, the number and the moral power
of such members are by far the greatest. The
entire absence pf this sort of proof, acting either
directly or indirectly, strikes me as being one of
the most efficient secondary causes tp which may
be ascribed, ip the order of Prpvidence, the rela.-
tively small progress ofthe Gospel in rpanybar-
barpus and ignorant nations. No inconsiderable
portion of their tprpid indifference towards Chris
tianity may be distinptly traced to what Dr. Paley,
in pointing out the causes of the same apparent
apathy among ancient scholars, and showing the
little reliance which can be placed upon the
judgments of the most acute minds on subjects
which they are pleased to despise, has termedf v
with philosophical accuracy and brevity, " cen->
tempt prior to examination."

149
Moreover, however clear and convincing the
internal evidence may be to individuals, yet a
religion which is so interwoven with the history
and progress of society, and of which the mira
culous confirmation does in fact form a part ofthe
system itself, cannot well be without some ample
historical prpof, whether it rests its claims mainly
upon that, or on other grounds. The total want,
or the partial deficiency of such proof, would form
a positive and perplexing argument against its
veracity ; and it is in reality upon this point of at
tack, that the more popular and successful infidel
writers have chiefly laboured. The external
proofs here become of admirable use in the de
fence of truth, and in the refutation of those doubts
which might otherwise overthrow the faith of
many, or perhaps perplex arid harass those whom
they could not seduce.
By these arms Infidelity has been again and
again repelled in her assaults; sometimes daring
and open ; sometimes insidious and covert ; em
ploying in her unhallowed service, in turns, the
magnificent declamation of Bolingbroke, the va
rious learning and sarcastic irony of Gibbon,
and the sparkling wit, the ready and versatile
talent, and the gay profligacy of Voltaire.
It is, by the way, well worthy of a passing re
mark, that, as in our own country a certain degree
of reading and information is very widely diffused,

150
much more of this literary scepticism is to be
found- lurking in certain classes of society than
is commonly supposed by the clergy, whose offi
cial character represses a frank expression of
opinion, and Whose associations in life are not
commonly such as to give them, in all respects,
accurate views of the real state of religious sen
timent among the laity. Therefpre, though it
can never by any means form the most impor
tant or edifying part of their public ministra
tions, it seems, on various accounts, proper, that
they should present occasionally to their hearers,
in a summary and popular form, some of those
extrinsic proofs with which our religion is so
wonderfully fortified.
To the same hands and. to the same weapons
to which has thus been confided the defence of
these outworks of sacred truth, has been also, in
a remarkable degree, (though not wholly,) en
trusted the preservation of its purity.
No stronger example can be given of the value.
of that evidence, which is founded upon human tes
timony, and judged of by means of human learn
ing, than its utility in settling that canon of scrip
ture, from which the rules of our belief and prac
tice are to be drawn. A minute survey ofthe va-'
rious heresies and contests which have agitated
the Christian world, would show very clearly how
efficient an instrument learning applied to the erf-

151
ternal proof of doctrine has ever been, in checking,
and not unfrequently in wholly exterminating er
ror. Though it must be confessed, that the most
unhallowed passions have too often mingled with
the conflicts and the triumphs of learning, that
few of her victories have been unpolluted by the
bitter intolerance of controversy, and good men
in all ages have seen with mixed feelings of ex
ultation and sorrow,
" The Truth preserved, and Charity forgot."
These considerations naturally lead us to the
further examination of another point— the extent
to which this internal evidence of doctrine can be
applied. It may be asked, if these doctrines thus
bear indelible marks of their truth about them —
does not that consideration alone afford a true and
unfailing rule for the depision of controversy, the
termination of all doubts, and the irrefutable esta
blishment of truth ? Is the general authority of
revelation ever to be taken into account ? and
does not every dogma proposed prove or refute
itself at once to attentive and honest rriinds, with
out any necessity of our entering into laboured
investigation as to the interpretation of the pas
sages in which it may be supposed to be al
leged .
The very statement of these questions fur
nishes the answer.
The internal evidence, such as I have endea
voured to portray its features, is of a very gene-

152
ral nature. Though bearing an immediate and
decisive testimony to those revealed doctrines
which most immediately affect the feelings, and
decidedly ameliorate the character of individuals,
still it does not by any means appear sufficient to
preserve from many errors and diversities of opi
nion, and these, though not fatal, nor, strictly
speaking, fundamental, yet undoubtedly, in very
many cases, of a pernicious teridency.
It cannot reasonably be questioned, by candid
and tolerant observers, that, in the darkest super
stitions which have overshadowed the Church in
her most benighted age, as well as in many of
the wildest extravagances of Protestant, fanati
cism, this religion has in substance and in power
approved itself, in some manner or other, to the
Consciences and the understandings of many sin
cere and virtuous men who accepted it, mixed
with vain or corrupt inventions, or the incoherent
dreams of enthusiasm.
Upon the same great foundation, sect after
sect has built its own narrow superstructure,
mixing base materials with the stones of the
temple. Overall, Truth has constantly shone
forth, warning, guiding, and cheering all who
came to its light ; but, at the same time, shed
ding something of its own sanctity over the follies,
and even the Corruptions which had risen up be
neath its beams. John Wesley, speaking of those
strange delusions which accompanied the mys-

153
ticism of Jansenist devotion in his days, says, in a
passage, of which I have often admired alike the
sound philosophy and the Christian spirit— "In
all these things I see great faith and great super
stition ; and it may well be, that God has accepted
the faith, and pardoned the superstition."* He
had reference, I believe, particularly to the mira
cles said to have been performed at the tomb of
the Abbe Paris, and of course could not have been
informed, at the time, of those circumstances which
afterwards enabled more rigid judges, as well Ca
tholic as Protestant, to show the true nature of
these extraordinary, but not supernatural events.
But his principle was wise and liberal, and it ex
tends not only to honest differences of opinion
on points indifferent or secondary, but also to
many gross errors and wild delusions which have
prevailed among Christians. . .
The fair and rational inference from the fact,
that truth has given such decisive signs of power,
while falsehood and fraud have been permitted to
follow and participate in her triumphs, is, that in
these doctrines and precepts there is a positive
internal evidence, how far extending-is not easy to

* This is quoted from memory. I have not seen the passage for several
years, and cannot now refer to it. It is possible that Wesley may have
alluded to some other occurrences than the prodigies at the tomb of the
Abbe Paris. But his sentiment, and I believe his language, are nearly a.
abovc represented.
20

154
trace, but certainly only to such instruction as_»
the most essential and practical. Besides this,
what is essential and practical to one, may to
another be but partial and elementary ; and this
moral light, too, differs in clearness and intensity,
according to the circumstances of situation, of cha
racter, and intellectual and moral culture ; varying
according to the temptations which surround us,
the difficulties we are called upon to encounter,
and the duties We are bound to perform. In
whatever degree, however, it may exist, it is
this that recommends their religion to the mass
of believers ; while those who haVe the power
of forming their opinions on the theory of their
creed for themselves, by study' and investiga
tion, and especially those who aspire to be
come in any manner" the guides and teachers
of their brethren, have no right, Por can they '
with safety neglect that fuller rule of faith which
is within their reach. The internal evidence
attests to that rule, but does not supply its place.
It is positive Only to a certain and limited extent,
and does not often act negatively,* to the exclusion
of falsehood. ¦ * It bears testimony to tr «.__„ but not
to all truth, nor against all error.
Every creed does and must contain some arti
cles relating to> purely positive institutions, and
to matters and events wholly beyond the reach
of our knowledge or observation, none of which

155
are within the cognizance of reason or of senti
ment, except so far as to enable us to perceive
that they are not contradictory and impossible.
Concerning theses therefore, the only questions
can be " how is it written ."and what is the right
interpretation, and the just authority of that wri
ting ? Yet these articles bear such claims, that, if
true and right, they cannot be rejected wilfully
without much guilt, or ignorantly without some
danger. The examination of some prominent instance
of the use and necessity of external evidence,
will make these views clearer than can be done
by general reflections.
, Let us briefly consider the question with refe
rence to a very important subject, the canonical
authority of the several books or parts of Scrip
ture, and this decision materially involves that of
numerous collateral questions.
Upon the principles which have been main
tained in these Essays1, we may fully assent to
Calvin,* when he says that there are in the Scrip
tures manifest evidences of God speaking in
them, arid that the divine majesty will appear to
those who examine them with clear understand
ings and obedient wills. But when he goes on to
assert that this belief is self-dependant, and that
" Calvin. Inst. Lib. i. Cap. 7. s. 4,6. " Hanc quidem esse, ai/rima-rcv
neque demonstratione aut rationibus subjici cam fas est," he.

156
it is not allowable to support it 1>y argument or
demonstration ; and when some of his followers
have asserted that they know the apocryphal from
the canonical books solely by this internal evi
dence and persuasion, then they go to an extent
not warranted by any express declaration of re
velation ; not borne out by facts ; and, thpugh
clearly possible, yet, unless backed by direct
proof, not probable to reason.
Is it the fact that when Luther denied the au
thenticity of the epistle of James, or when cer
tain modern theologians and biblical critics
disputed the first chapter of Matthew's gospel,
that cither of these were questions to be decided
barely upon internal evidence ; or that private in
dividuals could lay claim to the light of inspira
tion directing their judgment upon them ? Or,
to take perhaps a stronger instance, when Whis
ton, in the beginning of the last century, reviving
an opinion of the ancient ehurch, claimed the au
thority of an inspired and apostolic writing for
the first epistle of Clemens Romanus, a composi
tion beautiful for its meek benevolence, admirable
for its pure morality, inculcating the doctrines of
Paul, and breathing the spirit of John ; is it true
that it was simply upon an internal evidence,
either of natural reason or of supernatural illu
mination, exclusive ofthe ordinary aids furnished
by historical, critical, and theological learnings

157
that the whole Christian world have concurred
in rejectirig it from the canon of their faith, though
they have, with few exceptions, united in placing
it in the most honoured rank of primitive and
holy, though uninspired, compositions ?
Whatever opinions of this nature, excellent
and wise men have been led to maintain by their
zeal for the efficacy of the written Word, yet al
most all well-informed Christians in our day act
upon very different principles. In spite even of
Calvin's name and authority, I believe that most
of those who now bear his name will confess, with
that illustrious ornament of their communion,
Richard Baxter, that we must look to exterior and
human testimony to draw the precise line be
tween the canonical and apocryphal writings, and
to attest to the superior authority of some merely
historical books over others.*
Indeed, with regard to Calvin, I am inclined
to consider his remarks on this point as being in
truth a general and unqualified expression of
sound opinion, founded on a vivid conviction of
the power of the internal and moral evidence,
and stated very broadly, and, after his manner,
very strongly, in opposition to, those, of his theo
logical antagonists ofthe Roman Catholic church,
who, resting the authority of the scriptures solely
* See Baxter, and others, as quoted by Jones on the Canon, Vol. I.

158
upon that of the church, spoke with unbridled
contempt of all other proof.*
This whole subject is extremely well and can
didly discussed by Jeremiah Jones, in the first
part of his valuable and learned book on the ca
nonical authority pf the New Testament, to
which the curious reader may be referred for an
ample, learned, and judicious statement of that
controversy. All the foregoing considerations combine te
point out another, and probably the most impor
tant, use of the historical and external evidences.
They give to the whole body of revelation a
uniform and authoritative claim to reverence and
reception, founded upon arguments specially fitted
for, and. addressed to, those who are constituted
by talents, education, and station, either ecclesi
astical or civil, the natural guides and teachers of
their fellow-Christians, by whom they are looked
up to for instruction in the theory of religion, and
who are, in no small measure, responsible for the
* Cardinal Hosius, a cotemporary of Calvin, is quoted as saying,
"scripturas, si desit ecclesioe autoritas, tantum valere quantum fabulas Esopi."
The Horce Biblicee of Charles Butler, a distinguished living Boman Cath
olic lawyer, well known to his profession as the learned commentator upon
Lord Coke/and not less honored among general scholars for the extent and ac
curacy of his attainments, breathes a very different spirit, and the contrast
it presents to this and similar passages should teach us to be cautious of
charging upon those who differ from us those extravagances of conduct or
opinion, which are often the errors solely of the age, or, it may be, of the
individual.

159
errors of those whom they wilfully or carelessly
rriislead by precept or example.
With whatever degree of light and clearness,
so much, and that the most efficacious portion,
of moral and revealed truth may approve itself to
the consciences and understandings ofthe honest
and penitent, yet it is highly probable, d priori,
and it is Most certain, in fact, that the Christian
reVelatiott must and does contain, together With
something of purely positive institution, much
that is beyond our observation, remote from our
experience, and concerning which man has no
power of judging whether it be true or false,
right or wrong, except that he perceives that it
is not in palpable repugnance to common sense,
and therefore, so far as his reason can show
him, may or may not be true. Of this not a
little is plainly and expressly designed to curb
the passions, and to humble the pride, and there-"
fore," if we could get rid of it> it is certain that
we should gladly wish it away.
The variety of sects and opinions which have
prevailed in the Christian world, have not all of
them arisen — at least, most certainly, they have
not entirely arisen — -from honest errors of inter
pretation, from want of knowledge, or want of
understanding. Much of this unhappy discord
has been the fruit of the moral causes which
have been before intimated. If, then, the doc-

160
trines of revelation had no other authority ihan
their internal evidence, though, they would still
bear conviction to thousands, what would there
have been left to guide the honest inquirer, amidst
jarring theories and subtile disputations ; or to
check the ambitious zealot, and the speculative
philosophist, from selecting and rejecting, at
their own discretion, and without blame or re
straint, the doctrines which they approved, or the
institutions which they might think reasonable ?
As long as human passions are left free to
act, and the constitution of our intellectual na
ture remains as it is, influenced by prejudices,
and liable to errors, this danger will never be
wholly excluded. But what better moral guard
can be ^magined, than a strong and complicated
testimony, peculiarly fitted for inviting the most
rigorous examination of all who are in fact the
guides and teachers of their brethren, whether
actually discharging the offices of pastoral in
struction and duty, or indirectly influencing the
opinions of the people from other^ causes 1— a
class not inconsiderable in any Christian age or
country, but in this period of increased and in
creasing light, and diffused, information, every
day becoming more and more numerous. . To
all such the external evidence brings down the
original miraculous attestation of the preaching
of our Lord and his apostles, as it were, to their

161 _ '
own days, and places it before them, stamping
upon the book so evidenced,' the proof of its
containing a message from God. This gives a
unity of claim, an equal right to reception to the
whole, and when once it has been acknowledged
whether upon that proof alone, or from the cha
racter of its more prominent doctrines, it de
mands an honest and unreserved submission to
all that we conscientiously believe it to inculcate.
It affords an authorized rule, a code of revealed
law, whereby we may try the- teaching of reli
gious rulers arid chiefs, speaking with autho
rity, where reason. can only muse in silent
wonder, which reminds man of his frailty and
ignorance, and bids him accept, with undoubting
gratitude and submission, the gift of his Judge's
mercy, and the lessons of omniscient wisdom.
If presumption and false philosophy are not
thus expelled from the temple, or repulsed from
the altar, they are at least checked in their bold
ness, and made manifest to themselves and to
others. By these means, amidst varieties of
creed, distinctions of sect, and fierce controver
sy, there has been preserved, in the great body
of believers, a unity of faith in much that is
most necessary for each individual • to know ;
which he who judges solely from the exterior
aspect of the Christian World, Would never sup-.
pose to exist. 21

162
The teacher or priest may frame tp himself,
and proclaim to the world, a corrupt and spurir
ous religion, debased with vain inventions and
dark superstitions, or he may substitute his own
theories, and what he proudly deems, tp be phi-,
losophy, to the simple and efficacious truths of
Christianity ; but until he can throw off all
respect for the authenticity of its sacred books,
and ceases to acknowledge them as containing
the substance of his creed, he must continue tp ,
declare to his people the leading parts of revelar
tion, and the most instructive circumstances of
its history. He must use, their language, and
plothe his opinions, however wild pr extrava
gant, however presumptuous or sceptical, in
sound forms of words. He may by sophistry, or
a show pf learning, mislead many of theintelli-,«j
gent and well informed ; he may keep out of*
view, or mutilate, or render useless, the mpst
powerful and efficacious truths pf revplation ; yet
as long as he is under this restraint, his errors,
though not harmless, w iU l°se some portion of
their injurious effect. The teacher is often
unconsciPusly the means pf communicating to
others, sounder and purer knowledge than he
possesses himself. The ignorant are in some
degree guarded by their, own weakness froin
presumptuous speculation. The practices of
.superstition may be duly and reverently per-

formed, and remain in effect but unmeaning
forms. In the mean while, the truths most essen
tial to the guidance and assistance of men per
form their due office, and afford to the humble
and penitent, all that their great Author has pro
mised to them that seek him.
The result of the considerations which have
been stated, in regard to the uses and characters
of these different kinds of evidence, then is, that
the reception of the Christian scriptures, by the
great body of unlearned believers, does not de
pend upon the arbitrary authority of men, nor
need it rest solely upon the internal evidence
either of the style of the sacred books, or of the
instruction conveyed iri therii. It is founded
upon the general testimony of the universal
church, as the natural depository and guardian
of truth, and upon her authority considered as
expressing the united judgments of a vast num
ber of men in different ages and nations, known
to be competent from education, talents, or Othpr
opportunities, to decide Upon the facts substan
tiating their authority and credit.
This is far more powerfully corroborated by
a rational conviction of the excellence, worthi
ness, and usefulness of the doctrines. Upon
this the faith is substantially founded, while its
efficacy is made manifest to the heart and con
sciences of all who truly seek its aid.

164
Tlie perception of truth and excellence, in the
revelation of Jesus, is level to understandings
uncultivated by human learning, but exercised
in the study of themselves. This perception is
of a general nature, and differs according tp the
measure of intellectual Or moral wisdom bestow
ed upon individuals, while the means of judging
accurately and critically of the several heads of
historical inquiry, of determining upon the ques
tions of the canonical authority , of particular
books, chapters or passages ; of deciding upon
the true readings and other criticisms of the text,
as well as upon its right translation, are afforded,
though not literally to a few, yet,, comparatively,
to not; very' rriany. To these few, accordirig to
the uniyersal and natural order of Providence, in
the organization and constitution of society, is
confided, in/this, as? in other important interests,
that intellectual authority upon which most of us
must, and in corhmon prudence ought, to accept
the information upon which we are compelled to
regulate our conduct in our most momentous
concerns. ,
There is no reason to regard this as a degrad
ing dependence, or to consider a reliance upon
it as at all inconsistent with good sense. It is, in
fact, the same sort of evidence (the case is not
cited as precisely parallel, but ,as strongly ana
logical) as that on which the great majority ofthe

165
citizens of a free state, who occasionally consult the
statute law of the land, believe any statute or de
cision to be in reality the law? and not a mere for
gery. Few of them are competent, if an inge
nious doubt were raised, to prove, by any show of
direct and positive argument, that the volume in
their hands is really a collection of the public acts,
passed many years ago. But they have the silent
and irresistible testimony of all who receive and
obey it, the authority of those who, from general
information or professional studies, are the most
competent judges of the matter, and the palpable
internal evidence of probability and veracity in
the book itself; all pf which taken together,
amount to so strong a proof, that they not only
exclude doubt, but even prevent the bare sugges
tion of it. The natural belief, so founded, is of the
most efficient and practical sort, since we act con
stantly and unhesitatingly upon it, in affairs involv
ing our property, our liberty, and, it may be, our
lives. We are all in our turns called upon to display,
at every moment, some instance of such a rational
submission to authority. No matter how great
the intellectual superiority, or how universal the
knowledge of any gifted and accomplished indi
vidual may be, on some subject or other, he
must in his turn trust to the superior skill and in
formation of others. A spirit of contradiction to

166
aU .authority and evidence, not level to our own
judgment, is so little connected, either with men
tal acuteness or honest independence, that in fact
its true spring is cornmonly to be found in vanity,
in obstinacy, or in the love of singularity, usurp
ing the place of common sense.
Such seem to be the different, arid in some
respects Opposite, though by no means contradic
tory, uses and characters of the several marks
of its veracity and power, which the Christian
Revelation presents to man ; and I can see no
sound reason for rejecting any of them. It is not
wise either to go into the extreme of despis
ing the outward proof, or to rush into the more
dangerous paradox of denying the possibility of
any internal evidence, founded upon rational
principles, and capable of being intellectually ob
served. All of these several arguments have their use
and efficacy ; all pf them are given by heaven for
the use of mankind. Their intention and their
final causes may be partially traced, and sound
discretion will enable us to apply them to their
proper objects. Though it be true in the pre
sent day, as in the days of David, that the Cham
pion of Israel may safely throw aside the massive
armour of human warfare, when he finds it to
cumber and impede his march, and may go forth
without it in full confidence of victory ; yet, there

167
are very many occasions, when Religion lifts her
crowned head in the temples and high places of
the earth, and whilst the heathen rage, or those of
her own household rebel against her, permits
and invites all her sons, according to their seve
ral endowments, to defend or tp adorn her throne,
commanding, as of old, " every wise-hearted man,
in whom the Lord had put wisdom, to work all
manner of work for the service ofthe sanctuary."

ESSAY V.
The Critical Internal Evidence.
When a scholar and man of taste, in the study
of some admired work of genius, has become
deeply interested in its history or argument, ani
mated by its eloquence, or touched by its senti
ment, he at length gradually assimilates his own
mind to that of his favourite author, kindles with
his fires, and feels a community with his wisdom
and genius.
If, whilst all these natural feelings are fresh
and glowing, he is suddenly obliged to transfer
his attention to the little details of verbal criti
cism, in settling the text of his author, or to
some antiquarian research, necessary to clear up
accidental obscurities, or reconcile apparent but
unimportant contradictions, the transition is not
merely unpleasant — it is somewhat mortifying.
He is sensible that he is descending from a no
bler exercise of his faculties to one that is lower
and meaner.
As he feels those animating sympathies and
sensibilities, common to our moral nature, sub
side ; as he recedes from the contemplation of
22

170
those great principles of reason or of virtue, the
knowledge of which gives man his rank in the in
tellectual creation, he finds that his soul dwin
dles, as it Were, with the, objects which employ its
attention. He ceases to feel the ennobling and
animating consciousness of his .character as an
intellectual and moral being, and remembers
only that he is a linguist, a lawyer, or an anti
quary. This does not take place solely in our purely
literary studies ; it seems to belong to a general
law of our being. The most satisfactory, and,
at the same time, the most gratifying employ
ments of the Understanding, are those which
most depend upon, or invplve, general principles
of human nature. In proportion as we fix our
attention, and employ our faculties upon subjects
of narrower concern, or those confined within the
sphere of a necessarily limited portion of soci
ety, however useful the employment may be, the
interest becomes less intense, and the conclu
sions, though not always less certain, yet of far
less power.
This appears to me to be peculiarly true with
regard to the study ofthe sevbral kinds of evi--
dence of the truth of revelation.
To turn from the moral internal evidence of
its doctrines, to the critical internal evidence of
its books — from the internal marks of truth in

171
the religion, to the internal signs of genuineness
in the ancient writings which relate its history,
is leaving a grander, and broader, and most
powerful evidence, to seek for one of a lower
class, which, though in its way sufficient, is less
conclusive, less satisfactory, and much less im
pressive and efficacious. The direct and positive
testimony of history and fulfilled predictions,
requires also a certain degree of knowledge to
be able to comprehend it; but the authority of
that tpstimony is founded upon ordinary princi
ples of belief, and. is therefore plain and palpable,
and may be made intelligible to thousands. Up
on this, too, the mind, when once satisfied in the
examination, can repose with Confidence. It is
otherwise with regard to a large portion of the
critical evidence, apd more especially with that
part of it which is most strictly entitled to that
name, and on which scholars commonly mos,t in
sist. It demands a microscopic minuteness of
examination of numerous small particulars,
which can be given only by very acute and cul
tivated understandings, arid, like most other in
quiries of the same sort, the result is argumenta
tive, and perhaps unanswerable proof, but sel
dom heartfelt conviction.
Since, however, all that relates to the study.
or the authority of books of the Christian re
lation must have its use, and as, many very in-

172
genious and deeply learned men have diligently
collected a great mass of curious observations on
this subject, every sketch of the Christian evi
dences, however brief or general in its design,
must be imperfect, without some notice of this
head of proof Above all, though the strictly criti
cal evidence of the authenticity of the books of
the New Testament, is not, I think, likely to pro
duce much positive effect in enforcing their sin
cere reception, yet it surely affords materials for
abundant and unanswerable refutation ofthe ob_
jections andcavils of those who assail their his
torical veracity-
Books written in the same languages and age,
and under the same external circurristarices with
these, would of necessity contain numerous" indi
cations of their authenticity, fitted for the examina
tion ofthe learned and critical. Considered purely
in the light of ancient compositions, they must
have some share of this sort of internal probabili
ty ; and though this be not the evidenCe which is.
to recommend them effectually and extensively,
yet the absence or deficiency of such critical evi
dence, might lead to doubt or suspicion among
the learned, as well as afford popular arguments,
addressed to the mass of sopiety.
It is my design, in the following Essay, to state,
without entering much into particulars, what
appear to me to be the leading principles of this

173
species of evidence, and how they are applica
ble to the Consideration of this particular ques
tion, as relates to the New Testament, consider
ing the gospels and epistles simply as ancient and
curious compositions, containing the relation of
certain remarkable events.
The particularity of narrations — -the truth,
ease, and naturalness of allusion to the public or
private history of the times, to the manners of
the age, and the customs, scenery, or other pe
culiarities of the country — the agreement of
style, language, taste, and idiom to the character
and station of the. alleged authors — -the cohe
rence of the narrative with itself — the peculiar
tPne and manner, (independeritly of any conside
ration of the matter of their relations, or their
opinions) — all these form very strong indications
of genuineness and veracity in any composition
whatever. They afford clear signs of the authors
being really what they profess to be, and, it may
also be, of their sincere belief in the facts which
they relate, or the opinions which they inculcate.
Circumstances of this sort have accordingly, in a
former Essay, been observed to constitute what I
have there denominated the Critical Internal Evi
dence of the Jewish and Christian scriptures. As
the. doctrinal internal evidence must be examined
by cautious reason, by well regulated sentiment,
and the comparison of it with the knowledge of
ourselves ; so this critical evidence is to be tried

174
hy our knowledge pf history, antiquities and lan
guages, by an acquaintance with the characters of
men as they exhibit themselves in life and society,
and (in some points) by natural feeling or culti
vated literary taste. It is very obvious, that the
inferences to be drawn from the several points
which have been riientioned as comprising it, do
not end in one uniform result. They bear upon
different, though not unconnected points ofthe
argument. There is a well settled distinction in the Eng
lish law, and a very old one, though first clearly
defined upon rational principles, and freed from
legal subtleties, by Lord Mansfield, but to which
something analogous must be found in every1
system of cultivated jurisprudence ;* between
those circumstances, which affect the competen
cy or admissibility of any witness, and those
which augment or impair his credit ; between
those facts which show whether he ought to be
heard at all, and those which indicate the de
gree of weight to be given to his testimony.
The same rules, in principle, may be applied
to the evidence now under consideration. Much
* The good sense of this rule could not fail to recommend it to the no
tice ofthe civil law, though I think that it has never there taken the form
of a verbal and technical distinction. The Digest (Cap. de Testibus) has
several opinions and decisions as to the character of witnesses, who are
competent — idonei testes and. those who ought not to be permitted to tes
tify — Quos inlerrogarri non placet, or product non debet.

175
of it goes simply to show that the writers of the
gospels and epistles were not second-hand or
hearsay witnesses, living in an after age and a
distant country; nor to be rejected on the ground
of the Crimen falsi, of imposture and forgery;
but, on the contrary, that they lived at the time
and in the country which they speak of as their
own, and thus were, in the strictest legal sense,
original and competent witnesses, whatever ere;
dit we may give to their testimony.
There is also muCh to show that they were not
only competent in their means of information,
but also the best witnesses which could be pro
duced, that they delivered their testimony in the
most natural manner, under the most solemn
sanctions, and with striking marks of honesty and
sincerity. They are also unimpeachable wit
nesses ; not to be assailed, either by the contra
diction of any positive external evidence, or
on the matter furnished by cross-examination of
themselves, and the collation of one part of their
testimony with another ; or of their account of
any collateral or main facts, with the evidence
relating thereto, which may be drawn from other
quarters. These distinctions are worth keeping
in mind, though it is not in all cases easy to sort
out exactly the several circumstances which bear
upon one or the other conclusion, since there
are many facts of a mixed nature which have

176 9
some connexion with. both, and may be variously
applied according to the bearing of the objections
which may be raised, or the plan on which the
inquiry is conducted.
Nor is it easy tp say with confidence, precisely
how far the several uses of this species of evi
dence may reach. There are many points of it
which can only be estimated fully by critics and
scholars; others, the discovery pf which must
have required an intimate acquaintance with
classical or Jewish learning, but which can now
be stated, without losing any of their force, to the
comprehension of any person of ordinary literary
attainments ; others again, which rest not upon
the comparison of particulars, so much as oil the
more general effect of manner, upon the con
gruity of the relation, and on the obvious ap
pearances of fairness and veracity. These last
may be felt and understood by. men of no uncom
mon degree of observation and acquaintance
with human character and actions, without any
Share of learning whatever.
Taking it for granted that the reader is some
what acquainted with the particulars composing
this head pf argument, which have been accu
rately collected arid illustrated by many critics
and scholars, and ably and perspicuously stated
by Paley, and other popular writers, whose works
are in every body's hands ; let us confine our at-

177'
tention to the general character of such evidence,
endeavouring to trace the principles which govern
it, and to ascertain its true force and value.
On the first view, it is evident to any one who
has much attended to the manner of testimony,
whether spoken or written, that circumstantial
narration—digressive details- — casual mention of
such incidental and unessential- particulars as,
though closely connected with the principal
events, are in no wise necessary to the understand
ing of them, bear much more ofthe character of
original relations, than that recital which confines
itself, as is common in second-hand narration,
and in traditionary or compiled histories, to
broad assertions or naked statements, to relations
in which nothing but the prominent conclusion
appears, wherp the writer relates or describes,
as it were, merely intellectually, and not with
the feelings of one whose memory recalls the
living and moving scene, and acts it over before
him, as he proceeds in his account of it. Then
it appears, on the very first glance, probable, inde
pendently of all other proof, that the relater was
personally present, or that he derived his infor
mation immediately from some eye-witness or
actor in the scene ; and, in this latter case, that he
had himself such an acquaintance with the cir
cumstances and localities, as enabled him to en
ter distinctly and vividly into the feelings, and
23

178
conceptions of his informant. This presumption
springs directly from the < fact of -the story ap
pearing to be governed or connected by those
common laws of association which are usually
found to prevail among men. We know* from
the observation of our own thoughts, and from
that of the conversation of others, that an im
portant scene scarcely ever occurs to the me
mory of those who have themselves Witnessed it,
in a naked and insulated form. It is attended
with the recollection of circumstances which
struck the senses at the time. It is not until it
has passed from mind to mind, that it becomes,
as it were, abstracted from its accidental particu
larities, and assumes the. form of history. To
the original witness it presents itself with the
place, the season, the bystanders, and a hundred
other attendant circumstances accompanying or
following its recollection. Where the narrative
is merely historical, or where it is purely ficti
tious, something of this aspect maybe given to it
by the effort of a strong and lively imagination,
aided by a minute historical acquaintance with
facts ; but in general, in all second-hand or false
relations, there are farfewer and fainter appear
ances of those strong associations, which are
rendered indissoluble. in the memory, by the co-
temporaneous impressions upon the senses.
On the other hand, this particularity is sin
gularly distinguished from the laboured and

179
artificial minuteness which is very frequently
exhibited in professed works of fiction. The
particularity of truth, while it introduces so
many associated circumstances, still dwells
mainly upon prominent facts, mentioning
other events chiefly as they are associated
with those. It does not paint all that took
place with a Chinese accuracy of detail, but
sketches a bold outline, in which hundreds of
points unessential to the general effect are omit
ted. The voyages of AnacharSis, or the Athe
nian Letters of Lord Hardwicke and his brother,
are infinitely fuller of particular information re
lating to the private lives, manners and institu
tions ofthe Athenians, than the Memorabilia of
Xenophon ; but what reader can be so dull as not
to perceive the broad difference between the unaf
fected details ofthe ancient, and the laboured mi
nuteness of the French and English scholars,'
elegant and accomplished as they were ? Who
cannot see that the ancients described such cir
cumstances incidentally aud collaterally ; the
moderns by an effort of the mind expressly bent
to that special purpose ?
In this peculiarity, which, while it dwells na
turally upon secondary and unimportant particu
lars, never ass umes the manne r of minute and elab-
oratedescription, very much consists that impres
sive eipressiori of veracity, indescribable in words

180
to those who haye had no experience oh such
subjects, but which every rnan who is called up
on to attend to it, is soon trained, in the com
merce of life, and even in the study of books, to
feel and acknowledge. It may be partially imi
tated by a lively dramatic or inventive talent, or
by fraud long practised in the ways of men ; but
still it has a character of its own altogether
striking and singular.
This is not all — there is in the very fact of this
circumstantiality of relation, this entering into
particulars which might have heen as well avoid
ed, when a man wishes to be believed, and does
not describe solely for the purpose of amusement
or impression, and especially when he relates
circumstances which must necessarily be within
the knowledge of others, a certain fearlessness
of consequences, an aspect of frankness, which,
though they may be, and occasionally are, mi
micked by art and hypocrisy, yet constitute the na
tural and unaffected physiogriomy of truth.
Without pretension or parade, without ariy
indication of a secret consciousness of merited
suspicion, it courts investigation, it invites inquiry,
and defies doubts. He who in any matter of
testimony touching the ordinary concerns of
life and business, can confine his statements to
broad and general assertions, avoids every thing
that affords an opportunity for that collation of

181
testimony, which, in our common administration
of justice, is obtained by a pross-examination.
You have no room to detect falsehood or inac
curacy, by comparing one part of his evidence
with another-r-you can bring nothing to refute it
but direct and positive contradiction. The bur
den of proof is thrown upon him who doubts or
denies ; and that proof is the establishment of a
negative, of all others the most difficult. The
affirmative testimony, as long as it remains in
generalities, can be met and rebutted only "by
other evidence, going directly to that same gene
ral assertion. It is far otherwise with the minute
and circumstantial narrator. He voluntarily re-.
linquishes this advantage. He exposes himself
to encounter contradiction at every step. The
truth or falsehood of fhe principal fact may be
within the knowledge of but few ; all other evi
dence on this subject may be distant, or inacces
sible ; but as he enters into details and circum-
stances^-as he takes in a wider range of facts,
opinions, and peculiarities, and as the means 'of
inquiry into the truth or probability of these cir
cumstances are attainable, the chances of detec
tion, if he be an impostor, multiply upon him as
he advances ; and this not in proportion to the
number of circumstances he mentions, but in a
rapidly increasing, and, we may almost say, in a
geometrical progression,

182
Wherever this is dope, there is always a
presumption that it is prompted or supported
by the full confidence of honest intention and
accurate statements. This presumption, is,
unquestionably, far from being absolutely con
clusive ; but if it remain uncontradicted, it is, iri
most cases, sufficient for our satisfaction. Half
the evidence on which litigated causes are deci
ded, is much of this complexion ; nor can the
historian or critic often give a better reason for
his reliance upon the records and memoirs of
past times. There is scarcely a book of higher
authority, in its Way, than Caesar's Commen-
.taries ; yet this single circumstance is the main
ground of its credibility, as to every thing be
yond a few leading events, which are corrobora
ted by other history, and one or two incidental
circumstances, which may be confirmed from
other quarters.
The New Testament, it is obvious, is full of
minute circumstances, of all kinds, which, at the
tirne of these books being given to the world, it
must have been perfectly within the power of
hundreds of friends and of foes to contradict; if
they were false, or substantially incorrect ; and
such a refutation of any considerable, though
secondary assertions, would go far to shake the
authority of the whole composition. In the sim
ple fact, that so many and such various chances

183
of contradiction were unnecessarily encountered,
we have a strong, presumption of the honesty
and fidelity of the historians. This is, as has
been allowed, but a presumptive or prima facie
proof, and is, accordingly, liable to be explained
away, as well as directly refuted ; but until that
be done, it remains a legitimate and valid indi
cation of veracity.
But the argument does not rest here. There
are numerous direct references, and very many
allusions to the history, laws, eustoms, manners,
and opinions of the day. The style and language
of the compositions are also peculiar, evidently
professing to be the works of men of a particular
education, nation, dialect, and age. Any attempt
to forge such writings, would be exposed to great
hazard of detection ; and this hazard must in
crease, in proportion as the details were more
minute, or the facts more numerous, and of a kind
not embodied in the public history ofthe age, but
connected with the peculiarities of religions, of
sects, cities, smaller communities, or of individuals.
In this instance, while the main narrative touches
on hundreds of circumstances known only to
the Jewish people, the scene is by no means con
fined to the native land or residence of the wri
ters, but is transferred in turns to all the great
cities of the Roman world, whilst Jewish priests,
Roman Governors, religious and philosophical

184
sects and their teachers, with the common people
of Jerusalem, Corinth, Ephesus and Athens, and
other districts and cities of the east, are por
trayed simply and naturally, and circumstances
connected with their singularities of opinions, or
with national or provincial character, with the
systems of Jewish, Roman or Grecian polity;, with
the religious arid superstitious rites of all ; with
their arts, with their laws, and the forms of civil
and judicial procedure, are. all in their several
places incidentally noticed.
Now, if these writirigs had descended to us
frbm a dark and distant antiquity, to the his
tory and manners of which we had no other
guide ; this varied circumstantiality, however
much it might exhibit of the moral expression
of truth, ' could not well be brought to the test
of any close and rigorous examination. In
the .present case, it is far otherwise. Since the, re
vival of classical literature in Europe, eVery thing
connected with the arts, the history, the literature,
the philosophy, and the laws of Greece and-Rome,
have been the constant study of modern scho
lars, fiirnishing to many the main business of their
lives, and to still more the amusement of their lei
sure hours. The materials for this knowledge are
abundant on every side, in history, in literary
compositions, in the monuments of the arts, in
the antiquarian remains of all kinds which have

185
handed down to posterity the, portrait and per
fect image ofthe private life and the public char
acter of the " Dominos terrarum, gentemque
togatafn," and of their subject conquerors, who
yielding to their arms, ruled them by their arts,
taste, philosophy and genius. By this means, a
modern English or German scholar, a Porson
or a Michaelis, is, or easily may be, more familiar
with the laws, institutions, and customs of the
Roman world, in the days of Tiberius, than (ex
cept he had actually resided or travelled in those
countries) he could well be with those of Russia
or South Ahierica in his own times.
Various circumstances have singularly conspir
ed to this result, but the two most efficient are
evidently these : The tendency of classical litera
ture to dignify and give- interest in the eyes pf its
votaries, to every, thing connected with subjects
which form the basis of a learned education, and
are interwoven with the earliest and most vivid
associations of youthful talent and emulation :
and next, the wide spread and long continued
Sway of the civil jurisprudence ofthe " Eternal
City," by which the public,reason of Rome (as it
has been prpudly, but not undeservedly called) has
been avowedly adopted, or gradually transfused
into the legislation of the greater part of the civil
ized world, and has become the common law of
distant and independent nations on all points on
24

186
which their positive municipal institutions are si-
lerit; so that the Institutes and Rescript of the Ro
man law, still command the respect ofcourts and
senates, and are studied as a necessary part of pro
fessional education, by the lawyers and judges of
the greater part of modern Europe ; thus making
familiar to their studies everything which can even
indirectly illustrate the meaning, explain the lan
guage, or point out the intention ofthe civil code.
The means of acquiring a minute acquaintance
with Jewish history and antiquities are also very
considerable. We have the Jewish scriptures
themselves, with their several ancient versions
and commentaries, ajl anterior to the Christian
era- The use of these to substantiate the accu
racy of the writers of the New Testament is not,
as it may appear to a careless observer, arguing in
a circle, or employing one part pf ,the same autho
rity to prove another. For it is very remarkable,
that the external and historical authentication of
the Jewish scriptures, is wholly distinct from that
ofthe books peculiarly Christian. They are not
only received by a people who reject the others,
but the proof of them runs in a different litera-*-v
ture and through different institutions. Besides,
few nations can boast of a more accurate and mi
nute historian than the Jewish annalist and apo
logist, JosephUs ; a statesman and a man of let
ters, who wrote while the opinions and events of

187
the times described by the apostles and evange
lists, were still fresh ; and, indeed, While some
ofthe actors in those scenes must have been yet
living. Moreover, the Rabbinical literature, sin
gular as it is, and wholly uninviting to the gene
ral scholar, has presented a great field of curious
inquiry and research to the labours of antiqua
rians and philologists. Scattered as the Jewish
people have been to all the winds of heaven, they
have, throughout every age, together with their re
ligion, preserved their language and its learning;
they have always had authors and scholars, and
for many ages, Colleges and a species of semina
ries for theological instruction.
Such is the minute and accurate knowledge
which a learned inquirer may call to his aid, in
examining the authenticity of any work profess
ing to have been written in that bright andclear-
ly defined period of antiquity. On the other
hand, there is scarcely a chapter in the New Tes
tament which dbes not afford ample opportunity
for this critical scrutiny. The antiquarian has
found the materials for a strict and searching in
vestigation/ and collation of collateral testimony,
sometimes in those passages which speak of the
public history of the age, sometimes in those
which require tb be illustrated by the principles,
or by the technical and arbitrary rules pf proce*

188
dure ofthe Civil law.;* and sometimes in minute
and wholly unessential circumstances, like the
allusion tp the restless curiosity, and fantastical
superstitions of the Athenian populace, the chain,
the cloak and parchments of St. Paul, and the
slight and unimportant incidents of his naviga
tion and shipwreck. Throughout the whole of
thpse inquiries, all has been. found congruous with
history, law and antiquities, and every examina
tion of this sort has uniformly gone to confirm,
the truth ofthe narrative.
Some few apparent difficulties have occurred,
and these, when finally cleared up, have, in fact,
afforded new and unexpected illustrations of thp
veracity and honesty of their writers, who, in the
simplicity of unstudied truth, with their mind benf
on their principal objects, did not stop to guard
against the suspicion of deception or forgery, to
clear up obscurities, or to obviate possible objec
tions. The style and language of these books, affords
other, and still niore decisive marks of their au
thenticity. This is a very common method of ascertaining
the genuineness of literary works ; and both
* Huber, one of the greatest authorities in continental and public law, ¦
is among those who have particularly examined this subject, and pointed
out the agreement of the several incidental notices of civil and crim- '
inal proceedings with the forms of justice among the Romans.' ~' >

189
classical and modern literary history, will afford -
numerous .examples ofthe curious and minute ac
curacy of which such investigations are suscepti
ble, either for the removal of doubt or the detec
tion of forgery. The Greek of the New Testa
ment is such as could only have been written by
men of a certain education, natiPn, and age.
Greek was then, as French is now in Europe, the
universal language of business and literature ;
and, like the French of our own day, it was written
and spoken even by many of those who used it :
fluently and habitually, with np small admixture
of national or provincial idioms and dialects.
Accordingly critics have, shown, minutely and
clearly, that the style of the Greek Testament is
modified by various causes. Among these are the<
Hellenistic idiom, or the peculiar Hebrew-Greek
language, in use among the Jews born and resi
ding in those cities of the empire where the
eastern tongues were not generally spoken, '
which often expresses Hpbrew thoughts and
phrases in Greek words, and takes the colour
of its style from the Septuagint version of
the Old Testament, somewhat in the same
manner as that of the old puritans did from
our English Bible. — The influence of opinions
prevalent among the Jews, affecting the lan^
guage with phrases whose meaning is drawn
from Rabbinical opinions. — The not unfrequent

190
use of Latinisms, especially in military terriis, and
titles of office ; being a necessary consequence,
from the supremacy of the Roman government,
the establishment of Roman military posts, and
the residence of Romans of dignity and authority-
in the provinces ; and, in addition to these — The
various dialects of their own eountry, or of other
neighbouring Pastern nations, which would na
turally creep into use among those who spoke
Greek as a language of business, and were not
scrupulous of its elegance or purity— hence fre
quent Hebraisms, and occasional ChaldaiSms,
Syricisms, Arabisms, &c.
This accumulation of idiomatic peculiarities,
fixes the age and country ofthe writers very deci
dedly. In the writings of St. Paul, ancient verbal
criticism has gone yet further, and has observed
that while his ordinary style, when arguing on
the doctrines of his faith, has all the marked pe
culiarities of the Hebrew-Greeks, he some
times falls into Cilicisms, or the local idioriis of
the province of Cilicia, in which he was born, in
telligible enough, but not in common use in other
parts of the empire. Besides, it is observable,;
that he gives evidence, of a learned educa-,
tion, by the greater purity of his language when
addressing a Roman tribunal, or an Athenian au
dience, on which occasions he speaks much such
Greek as we find in Xenophon.

sssssss'

191
The reader, unskilled in the ancient languages,
may gain some idea of the nature of the evidence
which is thus afforded, if we were to suppose that
some : literary or political composition, or state
paper, in the French language were now to ap
pear anonymously, and it became a question of
great public interest to ascertain the source from
which it proceeded ; that a competent critic,
versed in the delicacies of the French language,
and well acquainted with others, should point oUt
numerous Anglicisms, which should show that it
could not have been written by any one who was
not in the habit of speaking English — phrases
deriving their force or meaning from the local
laws and civil institutions of the United States —
idioms peculiar to Virginia or New-England —
some traces of Spanish idioms, and finally other
provincialisms less marked. It is quite obvious,
that if the composition were of sufficient length,
and the circumstances sufficiently nunierous, we
might come to the most undoubted conclusion,
from such internal evidence, that the author was
an American, bom or educated in New-England,
and who had learnt his French in New-Orleans.
The degree of certainty in any such case, de
pends of course upon the number, variety, and the
delicacy, as well as distinctness of such marks ;
but when by these means the case is well made
out, the true character ofthe composition may be

192
most decisively established in the minds of all
competent judges.
In this case, no scholar who has studied the
subject, whether he embraces the revelation or
not, can well entertain any doubt that these
hooks were written by persons of the age and na
tion aspribed to their reputed authors.
Consequently, they are original historians, and,
in the language ofthe law, competent witnesses.
Did they then recount only historical events, of
no personal interest to us, however remarkable
they might be, we should of course rest here, and
, believe these accounts, thus given by several cP-
temporary writers corroborating one another, just
as we do the Annals pf Tacitus, a writer whose au
thenticity is not more clearly shown by internal
marks of style, while the external testimony to the
genuineness of his works is, in comparison of
their's, most slight and trivial. But the high im
port of their story, invites and Compels to a more
severe scrutiny.
If, then, in all this accurate sifting, this minute
and critical examination, not only ofthe positive
allegations j but of the assurnptions, hints, arid al
lusions of those historians — an examination in
which the friends of their cause have beeri even
more rigid than their enemies ; and they have cer
tainly never wanted enemies, learned, acute and
deeply hostile — an examination in which every

193
Word has been considered, every statement ana
lyzed and collated with cotemporary authorities,
and with other parts of their own writings ; if, in all
this, nothing like palpable falsehood is detected,
what ought to be the legitimate conclusion with
regard to the credibility of those writings, so am
ply attested to be genuine ? Is it purely nega
tive? Does it go no fu*th<_r than that nothing
yet appears to contradict and refute this history ?
Is it not rather positive and affirmative, that these
men spoke what they knew and testified to what
they believed ? If the story is thus confirmed in
all its minor particularities, there is the strongest
presumption that it could not have been fabrica
ted, and the supposition of its entire truth, is the
most reasonable solution of the fact of this agree
ment. But it may be asked, could not some ingenious
writer, accurately and extensively skilled in the an
tiquities, language, dialect and manners of those
times and places have forged such a work, and set
ting an imaginarypicture in aframe of real history,
have made the whole consistent with all the infor
mation which we can gain from other sources con
cerning those matters ? We know, for instance,
the dramatic effect, and the momentary delusion,
frequently produced by the great antiquarian no
velist of our own days, who has so vividly portrayed
the manners of England and Scotland- We allre-
25

194
collect, top, the air of artless honesty and matter-
of-faCt plainness which Defoe could give to his
homely but picturesque arid fascinating narra
tives, as displayed in his Robinson Crusoe, his rela
tion of the plague of London, arid his Memoirs .of a
Young Cavalier. Could not this be carried a lit
tle further, so that this delusion would be com
plete, and then the E-egiiiiaent-'wbuld fall at once
to the^rourid ?
In reply to this supposition, which, taken sim
ply and without relation to the exterior historical
testimony, is not without some plausibility, it
may be remarked, first of all, that this particular
ity is riot presumed or asserted to be in itself, and
alone, a complete and unanswerable demonstra
tion of veracity. It is but a part of our evidence.
It is a mark of truth which we may expect to find,
altliough it might be coriceded, that it may not
be such as wholly to defy imitation. But we
must take this in conjunction with other and
more positive evidence, as well that springing
from the nature of the doctrines inculcated, as
that which is strictly historical ; and thus suppo
sing this to amount to but a probability in itself,
still, taken in conjunction with other probabilities,
it swells into an irrefragable testimony. Be
sides, allowing the possibility pf such a power
of matchless imitation and forgery, it is still but
a mere and very improbable possibility ; and the

195
same argument may be urged against the most
powerful complication of human testimony, or
the authority of any history ^ or any books what
ever. It is, therefore, art argument purely scep
tical. It is a possibility of delusion against posi
tive proof, insinuating a doubt, but decidirig
nothing. But .after these preliminary views^ which will
show that, giving the difficulty its fullest force,
it is not very formidable, we may. proceed to
meet it still more decidedly.
So far as relates to the authentic character of
any books, and the credit of their narrative in the
main, (for we well know that a genuine and true
narrative may colour and distort particular facts)
all experience teaches us to deny the existence
hitherto of any such power of fictitious narrative,
so consistent throughout so correct in so many/
points,, and those so. exceedingly minute. A hasty
and careless perusal, such as we give to ordinary
works of fiction, might lead us; to suppose that'
with a little more of pains or skill, the deception
could be carried to a pitch of excellence which
would defy detection. But it is not so. Literau-
ry history has preserved the record of many for
geries, which have been attempted with no small
ability and address, such as those of Chatterton,
of the poems ascribed by him to Rowley, a
Bristol priest of the fourteenth century, written.

196
in an antiquated dialect of his own language,
and laying the scene cf them in and about his
own venerable native city, with whose numerous
antiquities he had been familiar from his child
hood. Ireland's forgeries of the Shakspeare
papers is anothermore recent example, In both
of these instances the subject of imitation was
exceedingly limited ; all minute matters of fact,
all particular historical and legal allusions were
Wholly avoided, and theattempt was confined to
a successful imitation of the style, idioms and
opinions of the ancient author. Yet, in both
these cases, and in twenty similar ones which
might be cited, many bearing upon English and
French politics and history, spme in classical li
terature, and not a few in early ecclesiastical wri
tings, the forgery was not only detected, but un
answerably and openly exposed, to the satisfac
tion of every man of ordinary intelligence and
competent information..
Judging from all past experience it seems to
be wholly impossible that any author, however
ingenious, however familiar with the manners
of other times or places, should completely trans
port himself out of the circle of his habitual as
sociations. These have become a part of his
very mind; they enter into the substance of all his
thoughts, and will inevitably communicate more
or less of their own colouring to his assumed

197
character. Moreover, minor facts and small details
will often escape his attention ; nor can he always
retain every circumstance which may be known to
him, constantly present to his mind, nor keep the
whole chain of his composition always in view, so
as to make it throughout uniformly and natural
ly consistent with itself. Some oversight will in
fallibly occur tp mark the stranger, to lift the
mask and betray the impostor.
The circumstance may oftentimes be very tri
vial, but the more trivial in its nature, the more
likely it is to escape the notice ofthe writer.
An example of this in one of our own authors
occurs to me, which may seem frivolous, but it will
illustrate my meaning better than an instance
drawn from a more recondite source. In one of
his late works,* Washington Irving has introdu
ced a tale describing the peculiar manners and the
appearance of the city and colony of Ne \. -York,
about a hundred years ago. Now the great ob
ject of such a story is to keep up the exact an
cient costume, and whether the aim of the author
be deception, by passing off his fiction for a true
narrative, or only to produce the momentary de-
lusipn of an interesting poem or romance, what
ever tends to destroy this unity, is contrary to
tbe plan of the author, and so far frustrates his
" Bricebridge Ha..

198
intention. Inthis tale, among other unintention
al violations of costume, Pne of his personages is
made to use an umbrella ; but it happens that
this invention of eastern luxury is well known
npt to have been introduced among our Dutch
and English ancestors until sixty or seventy
years ago, and was never seen in this colony un
til Jong after the date of Irving's story.
Little anachronisms of this sort, and similar in
congruities of language, things trifling in them
selves, but powerful in their evidence, crowd the
works of every writer who attempts to portray the
manners bf different ages andcauntries, however
little removed frbm his own, for any purpose of
delusion, whether innocent and momentary, as
in fictitious writing, or deliberate and fraudulent;
and it is by these things that a sure clue to the
detection of wilful and skilful impostures, like
those of Chatterton and Ireland, has always been
furnished. The curious and critical discussions which
have taken place respecting the authorship of
Junius, may supply a strong analogical instance
of the manner in which casual allusions, mis
takes of carelessness or ignorance, and slight cir
cumstances of style, language and opinion, fur
nish indications to the critic of the character of an
author. These, if not always sufficient (as from
want of satisfactory data, they may not be) to as-

199
certain the true author of any composition ; yet,
if diligently examined, will commonly be found
strong enough to exclude erroneous claimants,
and to detect imposition.*
The nearest approach to perfection in this
close imitation of simple narrative, is, unquestion
ably, the Robinson Crusoe of Defoe; but then
this is a narrative founded upon fact, the fic
titious writer is of the same time, nation, and
rank of life, as the real one, and the author has
only filled up the outlirie of truth which he pos
sessed, with the colours of an imagination fertile
and picturesque beyond example, in the details
of homely and ordinary particularities. The sto
ry is an insulated one, connected with nothing

* Many of these indicia, which literary curiosity, sharpened by politi
cal feeling, have hunted out, are very curious, and often prove conclusively
who Junius was not. The whole inquiry is full of instruction, as to the
nature and force of circumstantial and internal evidence. The celebrated
Dunning was at one tune justly regarded as the most probable author, but
it has been shown, that Junius was probably not professionally a lawyer,
from the inaccuracy of his incidental legal allusions, though when wri
ting expressly on legal points, he discovers no small learning and abili
ty. In his dedication he says : "The power of King, Lords and Commons
is not an arbitrary power. They are the trustees, not the owners, of the
estate. The fee-simple is in us." " Now," remarks Butler, the annotator
on Coke,'1 in all trusts of the inheritance, the fee is in the trustees." Hence
it may be reasonably inferred that this could not have been written by a
man who had spent his life in Westminster Hall ; though it might have been
by some Iawbred man not familiarly accustomed to the language of the
law. Nor could this be the effect of art, for independently of the natural
ness of the inaccuracy, Junius never avoided the direct discussion of legal
topics when they came in his way.

200
arid leading to no results. We therefore read it
with little disposition to inquire into its exact
ness or probability.
Nothing depends on its being true or false ;
but if its reception, as true, involved any conse
quence whatever, (I will not say that of receiving
the faith and obeying the precepts of a pure and
self-denying religion, but evCn the support of a
political party, or the adopting certain rules of
taste or behaviour,) there can be little doubt that a
close comparison ofthe story with other exter
nal facts, such as might be gathered from our
knowledge of navigation, geography, and the na
tural history of the country where the scene is
laid, would at once make the fictitious part pal
pable and prominent.
But let us turn to the New Testament, read it
as a common book of memoirs, and observe how
riiultiplied and complicated the chance of such
errors would be, were it the work of imposture.
Consider what a degree not merely of knowledge,
but of intimate familiarity and universal acquaint
ance with the learning, laws, languages, arts, and
history of Palestine, and the whole Roman world,
you must ascribe to the authors of these compo
sitions, unless they are true. Is this at all pro
bable ? May we not ask, is this possible ? For
if it be possible, it is but barely so, and, as we

201
have just seen, contradicts all past experience in
similar and analogous cases.
Besides this strong probability of error in the
work of an impostor, arising from ignorance or
inattention, there is another striking characteris
tic of truth, which has been before slightly touch
ed upon. It consists entirely in manner, and is
rarely attained by the most skilful iriiitator.
When a writer labours to give a semblance of
truth, by filling up the particularities of the scene,
by describing localities; interweaving cotempo-
rary history or anecdote, or dressing out his fable
in the costume ofthe times, no matter what his
talent maybe, no matter how great, his familiari
ty with the history and manners he paints, if that
familiarity be gathered from the study of the Clo-?
set, or from, any secondary source of information,
he always, to a certain degree, fails in his effect.
The mimicry' may be most ingenious, and, as
mimicry, perfectly successful, but it does not
amount to deception. Like the learned stran
ger,' who betrayed his being a foreigner, in the
Athenian market, by his over scrupulous purity
of the Attic idiom, he will certainly show the
sources of his knowledge by his over minuteness,
and the half antiquarian air which he gives to
his performances. He describes rather thari' al
ludes, and labours many an accessary incident as
faithfully as he does the most considerable,
26

202
. It is not easy to give an idea of this without
examples; but try the experiment of compari
son, and nothing can be more obvious.
Take an instance from the antiquarian poems
and novels of Walter Scott. Independently of
their great merits in other regards, they are cer
tainly very admirable for their vivid accuracy of
dCscriptiohin the details of ohivakic pomp and
costume. But observe critically the manner of
these descriptions, the precise minuteness;, and,
(with all their truth,) their want bf -ease — com
pare; them with the descriptions given by the
same author of general nature, with his sketches
of modern manners, with his fuller pictures of
his own countrymen, or the still more glowing
passages in which 'he portrays the workings of
the passions common to the human race, or of
opinions which have spread their control over
sects and natioris. Every man habituated to
literary criticism may feel, that in the one case
the author writes from his own intimate and im
mediate knowledge ; that in the othbr, by a
strong effort of the imagination, he artificially
throws mto a dramatic form the accurate and
minutejknowledge which he had cornpiled frbm
books, pictures, traditions, ancient armour, ruins,
and all those beautiful and interesting remains
of the arts of the middle ages, which abound in
Great-Britain.

208
The same laws which govern the composition
pf writings professedly fictitious, must prevail in
others of a graver character. On these prin
ciples the scholar at once observes the-contras.
between an ancient author and his modernimi-
tatbr or continuator, however eloquent or learned
the latter may be, and though he may be equally
correct as to his facts—between Livy and Fran-
sheimius, for instance, or between. Lucan and
May. It is this manner of truth, so indescribable, yet
so vivid, this unstudied, confident, and natural
familiarity of reference to so many circumstan
ces, which gives, a tenfold effect to the more posi
tive corroborations of the truth of the- scripture
history which have been drawn from the inqui
ries of the learned. .
All this will not prove the certainty of the
facts related, but it is a sure evidence of the gen
uineness of the history. It gives to it the attes
tation of its being cotemporaneous and origi
nal authority; it shows that the writers had the
very feelings and knowledge of the times, and
therefore that the. age and country which they
claim are truly theirs.
These arguments are so far addressed mainly
to critics and persons of reading, and they are not
without something of that unsatisfactory coldness
which generally accompanies purely critical in-

204
quiries, and can therefore bear no sort of com
parison, either in power of impression^ or ex
tent pf usefulness, with plain and positive his
torical attestation^ and still less, in my view, with
the moral evidence ; yet in their way they .are
quite conclusive.
Not one of the works of the ancient historians,
nor in fact any ofthe remains of Grecian or Ro
man learning, has much other attestation of gen
uineness than, such strong internal probabilities.
The books of the Christian Revelation are
supported by the evidence of a whole library of
unquestionably ancient writings, not only repeat
edly citing passages from them, but, wholly
founded upon their narrative, or doctrines; by
translations of them into different ancient lan
guages, scattered over the world; by the consent
of contending sects and parties, who,neitherin the
earliest nor in the fiercest periods of religious
discord, ever dared to reject their authori
ty, but strove to explain them so as to suit
their own opinions ; above all, by the conces
sions of learned, and acute, and embittered ad
versaries like Celsus and Julian, who were com
pelled to allow their authenticity. Still higher is
their evidence from the fact of these books be
ing statedly read in the public assemblies, at
least once a week, from the earliest times, and
the further.confirmation of the same kind, which

205
they gain from almost daily rites and usages, and
from prevalent opinions, growing out of them,
handed down from generation tp generation ; thus
combining that living witness of oral tradition
and usage, upon which unlettered communities
always mainly rely, with that of written history.
But such works as the history of Josephus or
thatjOf Tacitus, have comparatively nothing pf
this external proof. The casual mention of the au
thor's name, a transient' criticism, or a brief quo
tation in some other ancient Writings, and these
by no means forming a regular and closely linked
chain of testimony, is all that is to be gathered in
their sUpport from, other quarters. But thp criti
cal evidence of language, sentiment, congruity
with history and antiquity, of opinion, and,
more than that, of manner in narration, is per
fectly decisive. No man of sense expresses, or
can ever transiently feel, any doubt as to their
genuineness, and their general admissibility as
good authorities for the history of their age.
Yet all these .peculiarities, which are so con
vincing, are less numerous, and much less mark
ed, than; those of the same class, to be traced in
the books of the, New Testamerit.
Nor does this hold good only with regard to
ancient history. It would be easy to give many
still more striking instances from modern times.
During the last thirty or forty years, it has re-

206
peatedly occurred that a manuscript, purporting
to have been written by some distinguished per
son, was accidentally discovered, after having lain
in obscurity ever since it. was written. The indi*
cations of its authenticity from its language, style-,
and narrative, are frequently such as not only to
procure its general reception, but to give to it at
once the highest rank as historical testimony.
Such has been the case with Evelyn's Memoirs ;
with thbse of Mrs. HutchinSon ; with the life of
Lord Herbert of Cherbury, by himself; and, in
our own country, with the Journal of Governor
Winthrop,. If these books ' have such evidence they must
be authentic — they must have been written by
persons of Jewish descent, living in the first age
of Christianity, and in the countries in which it
was first proclaimed, who were intimately ac
quainted with thei-Cenes they narrated.
This position once established, a new inference
opens clearly upon us, which it is very important
to remark, as it distinguishes these histories: from
all others.
When we have ascertained the works of Hero
dotus or Livy to be genuine, it by no means fol
lows, that all, or the principal events they nar
rate, are true. They speak often of incidents
which were remote from their own times, or
within the knowledge of a small circle only, or
entirely unconnected with other history. ,

207
Or, allowing that they are entitled to all credit
as history, we may fully rely upon Livy for
his narrative of wars and political commotions ;
hut when he tells us of marvels and prodigies,
that an ox spoke, or that it. rained a shower of
stones, " locutus bos," or "lapidibus pluit," we
have a right, without risking the imputation of
inconsistency, or perverse scepticism, to look
upon so much of his story as fabulous, or else to
resolve his miracles, (as is more probable,) into
exaggerated natural phenomena.
Not so with the gospels and epistles. . Their
whole story is so interwoven, the whole narrative
turns so much throughout upon the one point of
the miracles and resurrection of Jesus, that if the
hooks were written* by men-ef that day, and then
given to the world, apef received as true by the
first believers, and uncontradicted in those facts
necessarily open to the examination of every
Christian of those times, the main facts must al
so be true. You cannot, as in other histories,
reject the wonderful and receive the probable ;
but it all hangs together. If miracles were not
performed, Paul and Peter would not have
taught, and toiled, and suffered ; churches would
not have been gathered ; persecutions would not
have been endured. If the latter facts, as assert
ed in these; books, did take place, they establish
the character of the witnesses to the former,. If

208
the high and rigid morality of this volume was
published authoritatively at that time, it could
not have been invented and proclaimed by knaves
or fools. All the principles, all the motives em
bodied in the doctrines there set forth, are utter
ly incpnsistent with imposture. If the facts im
mediately falling within the, knowledge bf those
to whom these writings were originally addressr
ed, Were admitted by them, these are sufficient ;
for they can only be accPunted for by the admis
sion of the truth of the principal facts, which are
referred to on all occasions, as the foundation
of the whole. ;
The life of Benvenuto Cellini, the celebrated
Florentine artist, in which that original. and ver^'
satile genius has graphically depicted his own
daring, restless, superstitious, dissolute, and'en-
ergetic character, the history of his wild adven
tures, and his admirable labours, and ofthe man
ners and arts of the age, is filled with strong in
ternal signs of authenticity; but this proves little,
as to the, probability of the marvellous incidents
he relates, or the bold feats pf which he boasts.
Granting the bpok to have been written by Cel
lini himself, we have yet but his single authority
for the fact, that it was he who killed the Constat
ble Bourbon, in the assault upon Rome,, or for
the terrific story of his magical incantations
amongst the ruins of the Cojliseum.

1.09
The fact of the acknowledged genuineness of
Cellini's book, does not make his countrymen and
cotemporaries fellow-witnesses with him to his
story. The facts were not within their knowledge,
nor, if they had been, were they of such a nature
as to give ground for the fair presumption, that
every cotemporary reader who read the book
as genuine, assented to its truth throughout.
Granting that the book was generally known
and read at the time, yet no one was called up
on to express any opinion as to its truth or false*
hood ; no one was induced to act upon, the faith
of any of its representations.
How different is it with the books of the New
Testament. The proof of their authenticity and
preservation involves the fact of their reception
as true by the first societies of Christians. That
receptiori was not, and could not be, cold, unin-
quiring, indifferent. It was not the barren and
lifeless assent with which we now read a news
paper narrative of things that concern us not ;
but it was a reception changing their earliest
and most deeply rooted opinions, repressing the
strongest passions, exposing them certainly to
privations, contempt and obloquy, not improba
bly to calamity, persecution or death. If the
epistles of Paul are genuine, then it clearly fol
lows that those to whom they were addressed,
bear witness with him to many facts which must
27

210
have been within their own knowledge. The
Christians of Corinth, Collosse and Thessaloni
ca, "rise up, as it were, from their tombs, to attest
to the personal character of their apostle, his self-
denial, his purity, perseverance, zeal, and cou
rage ; the hardships and poverty he endured, the
labours he underwent, the dangers he braved-^
to the moral character of the doctrine which he
proclaimed, and its efficient moral influence
among themselves ; and, finally, to the miraculous
poWer which he exerted in attestation of his
mission, and to which he appeals, in addreSsirig
the very persons before whom . he alleges them
to haVe been displayed.
Now these are not solitary and insulated inci
dents, for, throughout all. of them; a clear testimo
ny to the main facts of the gospel history is in
terwoven. From that one point they all begin,
and thither they all tend. The proof ofthe ve
racity of Paul alone proves all the rest. The
same argument holds good throughout. If these
writings are authentic, then we have the testimo
ny of eight original witnesses. Internal and exter
nal evidence, both of the strongest kind, combine
to prove -the fact of these writings being from
several and distinct hands ; and these several
witnesses are rtot mere historians, but persons
deeply interested in the transactions which they
relate or allude to, and affording to their testis

211
mony the highest sanctions, both direct and in
direct, by. voluntary ^privations, labours and suf
ferings, undergone to attest their firm belief in
what they testified^ These men, in the course of
that testimony, refer to numerous other facts with
in the knowledge of multitudes of their cotempo
raries, who believed their instruction, and sub
mitted to their guidance, and many of whom
proved their firm belief in those fasts, by under
going the same hardships and dangers. Such a
circumstance as the general reception by those
competent judges to whom an appeal is made in
the work itself, in any ordinary history, goes ve
ry far to establish the general character of the
writer's veracity ; but the remarkable fact which
distinguishes these books from others, is, that so
many of these, secondary and derivative incidents
mentioned in them, necessarily depend upon,
and do alone . decidedly, prove, the main facts pf
the narrative, and; the great foundation of the
narration. Once admit that these writings are
genuine, and that they were believed in the
ages and places in which . they were, published,
and the burden of. proof as, to their truth or false
hood is removed from, the Christian to the scep
tic. It is then for the objector to show how, under
Such circumstances, it was possible that these
writings could have been false, and yet-held sa
cred by. congregations of Christians in the days
of the apostles, or of their immediate successors,

212
This reception must riot be confounded with
the adoption of opinions, or of articles of faith, or
with the belief of facts alleged to have taken place
in other .times or countries. All this proves no
thing but the naked fact, that such opinions were
thought probable. But the silent acknowledg
ment of the truth of events asserted to have oc
curred amongst themselves, and before their own
eyes, is widely different. We know, from other
sources of informatipn, that there unquestionably
did pxisf such bodies of men, and their re
ception of the books which criticism and ancient
learning prove to have been written in that age,
and in those countries, authenticates the facts
related in them.
Such is one of the most important practical
results to be deduced from the critical evidence,
so far as it vindicates the authenticity of the
scriptures by means of the aids furnished by the
knowledge of language, history and antiquities,
and the scrutiny of refined and practised' taste,
and enlightened criticism.
If these ancient writings told us of events and
transactions similar to those of common history,
however remarkable or romantic they might be,
we shpuld look upon their evidence as alone con
clusive. Scholars would be satisfied with-it, and
the mass pf readers, on their authority, would re
ceive them without a question. Now add to this

213
the direct and the corroborative,- historical and
literary testimony, and the proof becomes won
derfully strong. Whether we consider it as po
sitive and direct, or as multiplied and Coriiplica-
ted, or as inartificial and circumstantial, it is alike
powerful i
To the whole of this, it can only be replied by
those, who, after any kind of examination, reject
the revelation, that the facts related are so much
against the Course of nature and uniform experi
ence, as to be utterly incredible. Allow this to
be true, and yet the difficulty is not solved, nor
any sufficient answer given to the argument.
If the facts related are contrary to all experi
ence, it is also against long and uniform experi
ence, that such, and so much, and so independ
ent evidence should be false ; that such and so
many signs of authenticity, and marks of truth,
should be erroneous ; that such and so many sin
gular results should have been produced in the
world by unaccountable delusion. It must still
remain a violent contest of opposite improba
bilities. If miracles are disbelieved solely because
they are miraculous, we must then, on the other
hand, yet assent to what, if not a miracle, is so
contrary to the uniform experience of mankind,
as fully to deserve the name of a prodigy. ,'
But, in truth, the apparent incredibility of the
miraculous parts of Christian history, arises (so

214
far as the intellect alone is concerned) from the
same cause with much other error of all kinds
—the careless or the wilful consideration of the
subject in one narrow point of view without regard
' to the connection in which, it stands with others.
If these events are considered only as naked and
quite insulated facts, the mind, unquestionably,
finds , a difficulty in receiving them-, upon any*.
even the strongest, evidence. So strong is our
natural confidence in the permanence- and4regu-.
larity of the ordinary laws of nature, undpr ©rdi-v
nary circumstancesj that I am not certain, that
many thinking men would not feel something- o£
the same difficulty, in trusting to the authority of
their, own memory for the belief of such wonder^
fui events.
But if these interruptions or suspensions of
the customary laws of nature, are not regarded
as unmeaning and unaccountable marvels and
prodigies, but are ascribed to an adequate
cause ; if that cause be the will of the Author
and Founder of these laws, exerting his power
over them for an end which we ourselves may
see to be adequate, this difficulty ceases at once,
and testimony resumes its full and legitimate
power. No ingenuity of argument can convince
a man of plain and sound Understanding, that it
is impossible for the Creator to interfere with,
or suspend, or wholly change, the ordinary laws

< 215
of his creation, for any purpose which is worthy
of hirii.
But, that the purpose of revelation was worthy
of him, we may learn from the examination of
the religion itself. Thus again, from whatever
point we may commence our inquiries, it is to
the character and objects of the religion itself,
that we must at last turn, to be fully satisfied of
its just authority.
In the above brief view of the nature of this
evidence, it has been considered wholly with re
ference to its application to the books of the
New Testament. Those of the Old Testament
contain abundant evidence of the same sort.
The materials of that inquiry are less generally
accessible, being drawn from a more recondite
learning, from languages which are less criti
cally understood, and from a more distant anti
quity, whose manners, usages, and habits of
thinking differed widely from ours ; but the
principles upon which that examination should
be made, and the inferences to be deduced, are,
throughout, similar to those above stated.

ESSAY VI.
The Internal Evidence arising from Congra_ty of Narrative
and Character — from Style and Manner. Remarks upon
th. Connection of the partial Obscurities of Scripture,
with its probable Uses and Intentions. ,
The argument of which it has been attempted
to state the outline and bearing in the preced
ing Essay, draws most of its materials, directly
or indirectly, from familiarity with books, and
from learning in ancient languages and history.
There is, besides this,, another species of criti
cism, which is founded upon a learning of a
widely different kind ; a learning not drawn
from books, but acquired in the commerce of the
world by the observation of mankind, and the
habitual exercise of natural sagacity and good
sense. In these investigations, common sense and
patient attention, united with some sensibility to
the plain and unaffected expression of sincerity,
earnestness, good faith, and warm feeling, are
the only guides required to enable us to ascer
tain truth and honesty, For such criticism the
books of the Christian Revelation, and espe
cially the gospels and epistles, furnish abundant
28.

218
erhploy merit. . Among various other points of
inquiry fo which this may be directed, it may be
employed upon the comparison of the history
with itself, and may trace out the natural and un
designed coincidences, and the unstudied harmony
of ali its particulars ; or it may mark the develop
ment and the consistency of the characters de
scribed or alluded to, and may compare the ac
counts given of the alleged authors, with the in
dications or manifestations of their dispositions,
turns of mind, arid habits of thought, which ap
pear in their writings ; or it may lead us to stu
dy, as it were, the moral physiognomy of the
whole volume, that indescribable manner which
assures us of truth and sincerity, or, on the other
hand, cautions us to stand on our guard against
craft, art,»and hypocrisy.
The comparison of a story with itself, by Col
lating one relation or part of a relation with
another, constitutes a test of truth which is every
day had recourse to in our courts of justice, and
not unfrequently in our political discussions.
It is a test which the suborned and perjured
witness, whose fallacies, like those of the unfair
and sophistical logician, are most safe from
detection, while shrouded in vague and broad,
or in unconnected, desultory statements, if he
has any skill or discretion, always, impossible,
avoids. This investigation, so far as it relates to

219
the matters of fact touching the life and charac
ter of S^, Paul, has been pursued by. Dr. Paley,
in his Hora. Paulina., in a most original vein of
thought, with a truly lawyer-like sagacity of ob
servation, and a most logical' collation' of remote
and delicate circumstantial" evidence. He has
followed out this thread of probability in such a
way as to show, that if the Acts .of the ApostIes>
and the Epistles of Paul,, were now to*be discov
ered in manuscript, in some old library, and to
come to us without any extrinsic or collateral
testimony, that "this. circumstantial agreement
would afford good reason to believe the persons
and transac tions to have been real; the letters au
thentic, and the narrative in the main to be
true." From- this examination and close ^ornpari-*
son, he shows conclusively, that whilst these
several writings are distinct and independent
documents, they harmonize h_;the same history*
not only in. substance, but in allusions, references*
hints, and indistinct notices^ often, requiring the
collation .of three or four separate passages in
different Wrks for their comprehension, all
dropping casually from the pen of the writer*
without any appearance of plan or studied con
sistency, nor yet possibly to.be accounted for by
accident, unless they were founded, in truth.
It is not the plain and direct agreement of
the several narrations with each other, which con?

220
stitutes the force and justness of this argument,
but it lies in those which are clearly natural, and
unintentional coincidences, where the consisten
cy of facts, and the coherence of the whole story,
Could never have entered into the. mind of the
writer, nor would be likely to be distinctly perceiv-.
«d> except in occasional instances, by. one reader
in ten thousand, unless pointed out. It is in
very slight, circuitous, and indirect correspond
deuces that the strength of the proof consists; and
the more indirect and even intricate that- proof is,
the more numerous the unessential and secon
dary circumstances required tp be brought side
by side, in order to make it out, the more
certain ; is the conclusion, that in all this
there was nothing artificial and fabricated ; and
that these lesser incidents were the congru
ous parts of one perfectly consistent, because
simply true story. In the consideration of
guch coincidences it should be remembered, as
Dr. Paley has justly remarked, that "it is one
thing to be minute and another to be precarious ;
one thing to be unobserved and another to-be ob
scure ; one thing to be circuitous and oblique,
and another to be forced, dubious or fanciful."
Of such coincidences, relating to the labours, tra-
vols, and preachings of Paul and his friends alone,
Paley has pointed out perhaps an hundred,
and he has by no means exhausted the sut^

221
ject. These, taken singly, amount to little, and
their agreement would often escape the eye of
any but a most diligent, as well as acute obser
ver ; but when compared together, they ascertain,
by their natural coincidence, the genuineness of
the several passages in which they are mention
ed, and, by inference, that of the writings which
contain them, "It is like comparing the two parts
of a cloven tally. Coincidence proves the au
thenticity of both,"
The hunting out and bringing together such
numerous and minute particulars, in themselves
of little interest or prominence, the unravelling
this delicate and complicated web of probabili
ties, demands an acute and practised sagacity,
aided by no common diligence -and patience.
But yet, when this has been done, it amounts to
nothing more than the furnishing a more com
prehensive and satisfactory development, or a
iJomplete and logical analysis, of what must
have frequently passed silently thropgh the minds
of a multitude of less, curious readers, whp, with
out ever thinking of any collation of facts, or
comparison of dates, and names, and circum
stances, could not avoid being struck with the
absence of all contradiction, incoherence, or in
congruity of relation, and the general air of truth
and reality arising from the great frequency and
perfect naturalness of all the allusions, and cir-

222...
cumstances, and particulars. Many a one may
perceive the correspondence of the whole, with
out being able to place his finger on the sev
eral points of agreement.
Indeed, it is among the most curious, as well
as one of the best ascertained phenomena of the
human mind, that it seems in many things to be
capable of seizing at once upon general results in
reasoning, iri taste, and in invention or observa
tion., whilst the steps ofthe argument, or the com
ponent parts and causes of the effect, almost elude
its grasp. It frequently happens that the truth of
a proposition, or the propriety of a measure, may
be nearly self-evident, whilst the proof of the same
theory, or the vindication of tbe policy, may re
quire, and may call forth, .-the best talents ofthe
philosopher or the orator.
¦The man of taste thus perceives the beauty pr
propriety of a building, or -the truth of a picture,
without being able to account for the pleasure he
receives : or, in a still more analogous case, the
intelligent juryman thus anticipates atonce thede-
duotions, and leaps to the conclusions which the
ablest and most skilful advocatemustlabour to de
velop, explain and defend, step by step. In this in
quiry, Paley and similar writers and commenta
tors are but the advocates, who point out the
grounds and reasons of that opinion, and the de
tails of that argument, which are perhaps scarce-

223
ly less convincing to many a man in that grosser
and less distinct form in which they were
suggested of themselves to his mind, in a shape
wholly unfitted for the purposes of logical rea
soning or argumentative disputation.
A similar characteristic ofthe manner in which
most persons form their judgments upon the
grand subjects of moral inquiry, comprising some
ofthe most abstract and the most efficient truths
of ethics and religion, has been noticed in a former
Essay. In all of this, there appears to me to be
a remarkable and very beautiful correspondence
between our intellectual powers and our person
al and social duties. There are numerous sub
jects upon which, whenever they are presented,
we cannot, without danger to ourselves, or injury
to others, refuse to form some judgment. In
fact, the very refusal to do so, implies a pre-con-
ceived judgment. However indefinite and gene
ral these judgments may be, ; they are suffi
cient to give a character to our most efficient
©pinions, and to regulate our conduct on the most
momentous occasions. But the power of logical
exposition, or ofthe eloquent enforcement of these
views, is a talent useful and admirable, indeed,
but which most men may pass safely through life
without exerting, and its cultivation is suffi
ciently secured, for all the purposes of human so
ciety, by the stimulus of personal interest, of oc-

224
casional necessity, of curiosity, of tbe love of
distinctiori, and, indeed, by the very gratification
afforded by its successful exercise*
The study of the harmony of the gospels
affords another singular and continual illustra
tion of the same indications of truth.
Biblical students, and learned commentators*
are more apt to dwell upon the small points of diffi
culty, which they meet with in this examination,
than in the evidence arising from the agreement.
But in fact the difficulties are riiainly those aris-
irig from omission, and from general, and there
fore to a Certain degree imperfect, narrative ;
while the agreement is upon that very account
more natural and convincing.
It has been often well observed, that it is in
itself no inconsiderable proof of the honesty and
fidelity of the Writers of the gospel history, that
it has been given to us in the very manner in
which it is. Impostors, or falsifiers of history,
would have avoided the dangers of self-contra
diction — would have shrunk from ' the dangers
Pf a rigorous and minute examination — at the
same time that they would naturally have ex
pected to give greater interest arid dignity to
their history, by one continued, regular, solemn,
formal and authoritative narration. They would
not have volunteered the labour ; or if they had,
they could not have done it without their work

225
bearing the marks of that very labour, of artifice,
arrangement, and design.— But there is rio pro
bability- at all that they would have volunteered
the labour of thus' carrying on their relation*
through four distinct and iridependerit books of
memoirs, sometimes running together in the
same channel; or drawing their materials froni
one common source— then agairi diverging front
eaeh other, or supplying each other's deficiencies;
and that in such a manner, sometimes, as to seerii;
at the first glance", contradictory — all this being
Subject to be collated and eomparecTwith other
compositions, containing indirect or allusive re
ferences to the same Set of facts, and these com
positions sometimes of a business character,
sometimes argumentative, and sometimes horta
tory and impassioned. Such is not the usual
manner of falsehood. It has none of the pru
dence, art and caution which falsehood always
requires, to attain any Semblance" bf plausibility; .
and its execution woUld have demanded a skill,
an acuteness; a laborious and* unrCriiitting mi
nuteness of attention, and a dramatic and de
scriptive talent, all of the very highest order,
and all exerted without any very obvious rriotive.
It is remarkable, that this mode of narration,
which, in any profane historian, would not have
failedto impress the reader with the conviction of
the perfect credit due to such a history, is the very
29

226'
point which has afforded the most' numerous oc
casions of petty cavilling, (objecm>nes minOrum
gentium, as Bacori contemptuously calls such
attacks,) from the variances in the order pf re
lation, and the slight apparent contradictions
among the evangelists, as to unessential particu
lars.* These writers, however," no where pro
fess to write chronologically, anymore than Plu
tarch or Xenophon. They were writing: me
moirs, either from their owri knowledge, or from
that of their immediate informants, and not for
mal arid elaborate annals, cbinpiled frbm official
documents, records, and public histories. Their
transitions are made, and the facts' are connect
ed in their minds, precisely in the manner natu
ral to rrieri who stand in the capacity of original
witnesses ; who had either been themselves ac
tors in the affair, or derived their knowledge di
rectly and orally from those who were;' that is
to say, the transitions and connections take
place according to other associations than that
of the exact order of time-^-of all orders the last
Which any person who had been deeply 'engaged
in any transaction, would pursue -rigidly in re
counting it, except so far as that order might be
necessary to the understanding the narrative-
In one writer's mind, the order of his story is
• * As by Paine, in this- country ( ,an3 in the WolfenbuUle_^'agmen_s,,a_
anonymous work, which in its (lay excited milch attention in Germany.

227
governed mainly by the connection of the sub
ject — in another's, by the part which he, or his
friends, had borne, in the dialogue or action, or
by some secret chain of his personal feelings pr
reasoning at the moment; while, another may
follow his stpry more according tp the associa
tions of place, or, not improbably, in the regular.
order of time, except so far as peculiar circum
stances interrupt that connection- Now it is-
certain, that all this is precisely and peculiarly
the character of original evidence, just as it ap
pears' in genuine cotempprary history ; *and still
more, as we .every day see it in actual business^
and, accordingly, it forms no ground whatever fb
presume contradiction or rhis-statement, any more
thaji it does when, in relating a speech, an argu?
ment, or an exhortation,, one author gives the
very words, in his own .translation more or less
literal, from the letrigT-^ge^g^uially used, a se
cond gives a mpre diffuse or explanatory ver^
sion, retaining, the same sense, and a third
abridges it into the naked heads, or sums it into
one emphatic conclusion. Every minuter inci
dent or circumstance is not noticed by each, but
one adverts to some of these, another tq others.
Nor is perfect accuracy, as to what is positively
asserted, at all inconsistent with imperfect know
ledge pf secondary particulars, so that many cir
cumstances known tq pne might very well be un:
known to another.

228
Seeming discrepances of this sort always occui*
in accounts which are true arid particular, but of
course,, in some respects imperfect; and most of
these contradictions instantly vanish, whenever.
the story becomeaknown in all its details, and in
the precise order of its time and place. -
There is no event of Pur own times more am
ply attested, and more minutely described, than
the pathetic and interesting occurrences of the
last days, of Louis XVI, his .trial, the scenes of
his prison, and hisi death, They have been nar
rated by-friend and foe, at that time, and since;
among, these am some who had the nearest ac.
cess to his person, and, treasured up every word
with affectionate and reverent attention. Yet. it
has been, recently observed, that it is not very
easy to reconcile perfectly into one constant rela
tion, all the details given by Cleri, Abbe Edge^
worth, by hisdai_gl^»^^d'ot_rers jalthougTi, as no
one of these cotemporaries has expressly censur
ed or corrected the other, it is highly probable
that they are all.cofrect, and that the mention of
one or two unimportant circumstances known to
all would at once clear up the difficulty.*: .
In shjort, the highest characteristic of truth, in
cpmpiicated testimony, is that which" results- from

* Of course this is given merely in the way of illustration;. Not having
t£e Several narratives at hand, I cannot say whether the fact be literally so.,
_W whether the contradictions are irreconcileable, though unessential^

229
perfect uniformity, as to essential and striking in-.
eidents and a real agreement, combined with an
apparent variance, in minor particulars ; and this-,
any one who studies the books of the New Tes
tament historically, with an eye solely to factsi,
will perceive to be there riiost strikingly exhibit
ed. A,. literal coincidence, which would neveF
occasion a Moment's hesitation or inquiry, would
have entirely destroyed that weight which arises
from the clear appearance of the- several testimo*
nies being collateral j^nd independent. The nar
ratives might have been equally correct, but they
woUld have been less natural, less impressive, and,
what is not the least in importance, less- engaging
and' interesting, and much less fitted for the use
ofthe unlearned reader. .
Respecting the -precise chronological order
and perfect harmonizing of the gospels, in the
very order in which the events actually took
place, it is to be doubted whether we have now
the means of coming "to any conclusive opinion,
or to any other result than a reasonable and
probable arrangement. More than this is not
useful for any purpose of instruction, argument,
or evidence.
Warburton, speaking of harmonies, calls them
a sort of book, of which he read none, and con
sulted .few. This is in Warburton's habitual
riianngr of extravagant and dogmatic assertion^

230
always aiming at the effect of paradpx, and never
failing to attain it by his manner alone, where
the sobriety of his matter would not yield it.
Yet this criticism is not without some foundation
in good sense.
Wherever exact notes of time are not given,
it is impossible to do more than to, show how the
several narratives may reasonably be reconciled ;
and that, in some cases, can very well be done,
in more ways than one, and, so far as it now ap
pears, with equal probability. , ,
This asrelatP-itethegospels has been sufficient-
ly well done by Newcome, Doddridge, Professor
White, and many others ; and though they differ
more or less in arrangement and explanation, any
one of thesp harmonies affords a competent solu
tion of all difficulties, so far as regards their bear
ing upon the trUth, of the gospel history. Whether
or not the certain and unimpeachable veracity of
these writers extends, also, to perfect accuracy
in all minor details, (excepting always the appa
rent inaccuracy arising froni omission,) is another
question, which is certainly of great interest as
to the degree of authority to' be ascribed to these
books ; but as regards their genuineness, and the
credit due to their history, it is wholly unessen
tial. Without wishing to enter at all upon that dis
cussion, I can only say, that the result of as dili-

231
gent and fair an examination as I could give this
subject, and that repeatedly, and after long in
tervals, is, to deny the existence^ of any real,
though unessential contradictions, such as exist
in most other authentic histpries, and which, as
they do not at all affect the substantial credit of
the narratives, many able and learned advo
cates of Christianity, seem willing to admit as
probable. On the contrary, I fully assent to
Newcome's conclusions.* "The result of my
thoughts and inquiries," says that careful, pa
tient j and acute inquirer, " is, that every proposi
tion in scripture contains a truth, when rightly
understood; that the evangelists conceived alike
of the facts related by them, but sometimes place
them in different lights, and make a selection of
different circumstances attending them; and
that the' seCming variations would instantly va
nish, were the history known to us in its precise
order, and in all its circumstances. Strong pre
sumptions of their inspiration arise from an ac
curate corriparison of the gospels; from their
being so wonderfully supplemental to each other,
in passages reconcileable only by the suggestion
of a seemingly indifferent circumstance; and
from their real agreement, in the midst of a
seeming disagreement. ' Truth,' says Mr. West,
* Newc'oi&e'- Preface to his Greek Harmony.

232
like honesty, bften , neglects appearances— hy
pocrisy and imposture are always guarded.-' "
If others, after due investigation, cannot ac
quiesce in these conclusions, let them, however
cautiously beware of confounding the decision
of this topic with the more essential preliminary
question touching the character pf the writers)
their perfect means of ^information, their can
dour, singleness of intention^ and serious, earnest
veracity; I- have before- observed^ (what philosopher*
and reasoners, in the pride of intellect, are much
inclined to overlook,) that, in relation to the
highest, noblest and most universal of all evi
dences, that which- results from the majesty and
.excellence of principle or precept, man's pure
ly intellectual faculties, and the logical exercise
-pf them, are not his only guides to truth. Full
often do his. natural sympathies, emotions, sen
sibilities, . and affections, speak to his reason in
that language in which mature acknowledges the
presence of its Author, and the authority of ; his
commandments. Thus it is too with regard to
much of this evidence. There is a natural sen
timent of truth in testimony, and honesty in, cha
racter, as well as a rational perception of them.
This power of interpreting the language of
nature, is not learnt from any rules of criticism,
but springs up of itself, and requires only use

233
and exercise' for its development. This is
the ' great principle that constitutes the true
foundation of good taste and sound criticism.
It mingles- with our daily thoughts, guides us in
the ways pf mankind, regulates or influences our
judgments of Character, and dictates to us the
faith which we may give to the assertions of
Others, and the reliance which we may place
upon their truth or honour.
We ought hot, therefore, to confine our inqui
ries to matters of fact, and to the external pecu
liarities arid mannerisms of phrase and idiom,
whilst we can also refer to— What I know not whe
ther critics arid rhetoricians have" ever given a
name to, but which we may justly denominate—
the Moral Qualities of Style. I rrieari, by this
phrase, those characteristics of principle, of ear
nestness, of pure sentiment, arid that exhibition jof
the habitual cast of thought, which must be felt
rather than discussed or argued about, and toge
ther afford tlie surest light by; which the critic in
literature can direct his course, when he decides
upori the authenticity of works of genius or ori
ginality, or by which the critic of character can
be guided in his estimate of moral worth!
It requires but vpry little skill or practice to
be enabled, in reading any historical narrative,
or any accountsof recent or cotemporary evenf§,
(provided we are sufficiently albof from the im-'
30

234
mediate interest of r the scene to view it with
calmness and an unbiassed judgment,) to per1
ceive whether or no the writer relates what he be
lieves, and relates them as plain facts ; or whe
ther he tells them with a tone of exaggeration,
as aiming to interest or surprise the reader ; or
whether he does not give himself up to some
spirit of party, and half wilfully, half insensibly,
cblour the incidents with his oWn feelings of
partial zeal, or prejudiced animosity.
There is a simplicity and directness accompa
nying strict truth, which, like fhevfrank and open
aspect of unsuspicious ' honesty, at once concili
ates the confidence of all whose imaginations are
hot filled with dark siispicions and universal dis
trust, or whose aversion to the subject of the evi
dence does riot prejudice them against the cha
racter bf the witness. On theother hand, there
is a partisan tone, and there is also a manner bf
romance and embellishment, which are as surely
calculated to weaken confidence, and to sug
gest distrust to all who do not participate in the
feelings of the Writer.
' But the ' historic portions of the New Testa
ment, above all other narrative writings of any
particularity whatever, are remarkable for their
perfect artlessness, and their grave and solemn
composure ; for the absence of all efforts to- ani
mate or embellish the story, to increase its inte-

235
rest, or' to fill the reader with admiration for the
character, and still less for the prodigies of him
whose acts they record. They narrate his actions,
and record parts of his instruction, and no more.
So far are they from showing any desire to enforce
the truth of their story by argument, authority,
or rhetoric, that the bare possibility of being charg
ed with falsehood seems never to suggest itself to
them. They manifest nothing of the feeling of
party — ,not a word of eulogy, or of vituperation,
or s even of censure escapes them. The deeds
and the words of the tyrant, or the traitor, of the
malignant and the hypocritical,! are spoken of as
they occurred, -but without epithet or comment.
There is. never any climax of prodigies— no gra
dual' preparation for surprise and wonder. Of
themselves they think not. They speak tran
siently of their own errors and gross ignorance,
and of those of their friends and companions,
without affectation pf humility, but with no at
tempt to conceal or excuse thpni. Filled with the
gr_.nct truth of their subject, their own little feelings
are forgotten, or rather totally absorbed. In them,
the natural passions of human nature, which min
gle with the thoUghts ofthe wisdstand best, seem,
for a time, to have sunk down, and become hush
ed into a hallowed calm. l
They profess to be, and they' are, witnesses
and historians, and nothing else. ,

236
Every transient and unaffected indication^
which can be given in such compositions, of the
temper and moral disposition of the writer, in
the exercise of candour, of humility, of liberal
and tolerapt judgment of others, in the suppress
sion of all personal bitterness, singularly agrees
with the precepts and moral tendency of fhe re-.
ligion itselfT
This last circumstance at once affords an evi^
dence of veracity, resembling that arising from
the circumstantial agreement of incidental par-.
ticulars, as touched upon above, and, at the
same time, commends the testimony of these
men to our beTIpf, by all that just authority which
arises from excellence, of moral character.
That person must have observed but little, or
else have seen by far top much of human na-*
ture — must have either lived wholly aloof from
the .observation of life, or have been so much
conversant with the worst part of society as to
have hardened and blunted his perceptions to
wards the genuine and unstudied expression of
Iionesty and goodness, who cannpt see in the
Writings ascribed to the apostle John the uner
ring signs pf an ingenuous, amiable, humble and
benevolent spirit. We niay take it for granted,
if we will, that he was a dreamer, an enthusi
ast, a visionary, or a lunatic— still, without, any
qther indications of his character, than those gi-

237
ven in the few pages of his composition which
have come down to us, every candid man must
confess, that he was a benevolent, virtuous, ho
nest, and most amiable man, who fully and un-
doubtingly believed that which he was anxious
tp enforce to the acceptance of others.
The writings of Paul afford different and much
more varied grounds for the same kind of argu
ment ; not, certainly, clearer or more strong, (for
that is not possible,) but, perhaps, more Suscep
tible of critical inquiry and development.
We may, 'so far as it is possible to divest
one's self of all interest in the question, and of
sympathy for the natural and fervid eloquence of
sincerity and zeal, and deVoted earnestness,
throw out of view alk consideration of the truth
or power of the doctrines which Paul teaches,
and consider the question purely critically; not
indeed by any means in the spirit of verbal crit
icism, but in that of natural taste. We may en
deavour to look upon the question, somewhat as
we would do the contested classical point,
whether the beautiful and instructive fragment
of the Dialogue De Oratoribus 'be the work of
Tacitus or not ; examining whether the style,
the sentiment, the train and cast of thought, the
manner of transition and arrangement," be such
as we have a right to expect from the alleged au
thor, and in correspondence with his history.

- ¦•¦.
238 ' /,. ¦
Paul is portrayed as a man of learning' and ta
lent, of a profound theological education, and of
an active mind, and his Epistles are confess
edly remarkable for containing many things hard
to understand. Why are they so ? Is it from the
enthusiasm, the mysticism, or the affected and
oracular obscurity of the writer . Or are not the
subjects themselves hard to be understood ?._
Many of them are things which the human un
derstanding can neVer completely grasp — of
which we ' can have but partial and wholly in
adequate conceptions; glimpses, notT distinct
views. Are hot, in fact, all subjects connected
with, or arising out of, the overwhelming truths
of . eternity, omnipotence and spiritual being —
ofthe mysterious questions of the origin and exis
tence of evil, and especially of moral evil— of the
permission of sin, and the creation, by a bene
volent and omniscient Creator, of accountable
beings, with strong tendencies towards error and
vice — of foreknowledge and free will,, together
with the innumerable practical or theoretical
doubts and opinions which grow out of these— -
are not all thesfe subjects necessarily 'very hard
to be understood by the human mind ?
But, in considering the internal signs of au
thenticity and veracity, I refer chiefly to the
manner of hist unfolding these opinions; and of
arguing upon these subjects. It is a manner whol-

239
ly original, and hearing the deepest impress of
truth and nature. . The writer ^professes himself
to be one who has heard, and seen, and been
taught unutterable things — who has been brought
to, the, knowledge and confession of that truth,
which engrosses all his thoughts, and swallows
up every other interest, not through the slow
processes of reason, or by the observation of mi
raculous facts visible to the senses, or in the or
dinary operation of moral illumination through
the conscience and affections, but in a manner not
only supernatural but wholly peculiar; whose
knowledge .of the doctrines, which he authorita^
tively declares to his, disciples, he tells them,
came not of man nor through man, but im
mediately from the Father of lights, in a way
which he himself does not and could not describe
or explain — whether, in the body or out ofthe
body, he is wholly uncertain.
This statement, the objector will say, is the
work either of delusion or imposture ; but let us
compare the accourit given us of Paul's history and
his state of mind with his writings, and mark how
wonderful is the congruity which we may ob
serve between them*
His style, forcible, flexible, and copious as it is,
is not perspicuous ; but its obscurity is like that
effulgence which the great English epic poet has
described, as being "dark with excess of light."

240
Hia mind is evidently crowded with ideas strug
gling for utterance, with thoughts and emotions
for which he finds language to be wholly inade
quate, to which he feels that the habitual concep
tions, the reason, the knowledge, the experience,
of those to whom he addresses himself, present no
sufficient counterpart. He labours with the mag
nitude of a revelation, with the vastness and cer
tainty of a knowledge, which his mind can with
difficulty contain, and which he feels that he can
but partially unfold to others.
His intense and immediate conviction of truth,
is accompanied with an equal intensity of feeling.
He is filled with devotion, fervid gratitude, pros
trate humility, unquenchable zeal. From these
causes, naturally arise his suddbn transitions,
his rapid accumulations of thought upon thought.
-—Hence his peculiar mode of unexpectedly ris
ing from the argument in which the errors, or
the controversies of the times happened to en
gage him, to loftier themes, and holier contem
plations ; connecting with the ^business and con
troversies of this world, which were soon to pass
away, considerations of eternal and universal im
portance, of whose reality he had a still more in-
tim ate and present conviction. •¦---.
It is true, that to him who has made no ap
proach to this knowledge, and more especially to
him who 'has no answering sympathies to his

241 »
kindling sentiment, much of this is, and must
ever be, strangely and wildly obscure— his transi
tions must appear abrupt, his raptures extrava
gant or enthusiastic, and his reasonings inco
herent or inconclusive.
Yet, if we grant that he taught the truth, and
remember the manner in which this truth is as
serted to have been poured into his mind, and
the extent and distinctness of the revelation so
vouchsafed to him, then we can easily trace a
most perfect coincidence between the style and
character of thought, argument, and language,
and that state of feeling which we may judge
to have been habitual to the writer whenever
his mind was turned, either in direct medita
tion, or by some casual association, to the recollec
tion of the " deep things of God."
The mention of the difficulties of certain pas
sages of the Writings ofthe great Apostle of the
Gentiles, naturally leads to some inquiries
which have no very distant connexion with the
subject of the former part of this Essay. Every
one knows, that there are scattered throughout
the whole of the Jewish and Christian scriptures,
passages of much obscurity, of doubtful interpre
tation, and capable of diverse expositions. Now,
what inference ought to be drawn from this fact ?
Was such a circumstance to be expected in an
inspired volume . Does this not afford positive
31 '

242
proof, that a composition in any manner deficient
in perspicuity, could not have come from ari om
niscient author ? In short, whilst the positive in
ternal evidence of style and language? (show and
mark the genuineness of the books, and the
good intentions of their writers, do not' these
difficulties,' on the other side, furnish quite as
positive internal evidence to the critic, that these
books come wholly from man, partaking of all his
imperfections and his ignorance, and proceeded
not from the fountain of Light and Truth .
This is an objection or difficulty which has
been Sometimes directly urged, and is very
often insinuated. Such a conclusion, however;
would be probable only upon the supposition,
that the whole, or the greater part of these books,
was one inexplicable mass of confusion and ob
scurity to those to whom it was addressed. If that
were the case, it would present a most serious, it
maybe, an unanswerable objection. But if, so far
from this being the fact, amidst much, that each
and all of us can comprehend and profit by,
there are interspersed parts which present diffi
culties, perplexities, and materials for controver
sy, which have yet certainly been understood
in former days, or which probably may be under
stood whenever the necessary explanation is given,
this strikes my mind as being precisely what from
analogy, and the reason of the thing, previously
to any experience oh the subject, we might argue

243
would be the character, of such compositions as
these. If this.revelation.be divine, then these writings
are not like the writings of human systems or
of human controversy, intended for any one tem
porary object, or class of objects, and limited to
one circle of readers ; but Whatever may have been
the immediate design of the wTriter, they must
have been meant for varied, and successive, and
long eontinued-i-we may almost say— -for infinite
uses ; for guarding against the errors, and antici- v
pating the wants, of innumerable multitudes of
individuals of the most dissimilar intellectual
powers and habits, for the guidance ofthe Indian
and African, ofthe slave and the peasant, of the
philosopher and the scholar ; for the instruction
pf the church in every stage thrpugh which she
was, and still is, to pass, in the long train Qf ages,
midst countless varieties of heresies, opinions,
factions and superstitions. Now, to anticipate all
these uses, to follow out the full meaning, of eve
ry passage- and to comprehend all the views of
such a work, (if it really be what it professes to
be,) the mind of the reader must partake in no
small degree of that measureless .wisdom and
pervading forethought which dictated or direct
ed its composition.
If the mind, in contemplating this vast and
magnificent prospect, feels its own littleness and

244
weakness, it must also confess its own inadequa-_
cy to judge and to comprehend fully and precise-f
ly every part of that history, or. ofthat instruction,
which is capable of such boundless application.
We do not pretend to understand thp.meaning
or to canvass the policy, ofthe legislative provi
sions, or the political institutions of other times
and countries, or even of those of our own civil
or criminal code, without being in spme, degree,
informed of the precise design and object of the
law, ofthe evil it is intended to remedy, pr ofthat
intention Which it is meant by the legislator, it
should ultimately effept. How much less, then,
must any individual be able to comprehend thp
whole and entire meaning of that revelation,
which, if it be true, cannot but be pregnant with
myriads of uses, and have in itsplf "infinite
springs and streams of doctrine ?"*
Consider the subject independently of . any
t;heory or prepossession, and see if it is not proba
ble, from the nature of things, that the. books of
a revelation, intended alike for the general use
ofthe church, and the particular instruction of so
many millions of private persons and public
teachers in all ages pf the world, would npt haVe
some of the peculiar difficulties which mark our
scriptures ? Whether it is probable that any,
T : = ~5p
* Eortf Bacoi.

245
pne intellect could embrace the scope and entire
design of what was intended for so many and
such dissimilar understandings and circumstan
ces ? And this, top, when that intention is not
mere theoretical instruction, but practical influ
ence, impression, edification, or consolation for
many millions of individuals, each one of whom,
in some circumstance of character or situation,
is probably: a peculiar and solitary being.
Is it not therefore very probable, that more or
less of such a work would be dark to the rea
der in those parts not originally intended for his
use, or that of his age or nation— that its digres-
$ ions might seem unaccountable, perhaps its ar
guments unintelligible, until that use occurred for
which it was so far designed — until the facts
whether springing from the moral idiosyncrasies,
^he mental peculiarities;of the individual, or from
external situation and public opinion, from the
political or religious state pf the World, upon
Which these passages were meant to shed their
light, be made known ?
We may single out one prominent and exten
sive example, or, rather, large class of examples of
this leading and pervading truth. To us, whose
minds have been wholly formed under the influ
ence of the laws, science, education and habits
of reasoning which prevail in the modern civili
zed world, when the general cultivation ofthe ex-

246
acter sciences, the strictness of legal and com
mercial transactions, and; not improbably, too,
. something in the primitive, mental or physical
constitution of the northern European race, have
trained to a certain business-like , directness and
perspicuity of style and argument, to a methodic
cal, and often technical arrangement, to a more
cultivated, copious and precise, but less flexible
or impressive language, and a taste regulated
and disciplined to a critical and fastidious cor
rectness, no inconsiderable portion of the more
ancient scriptures is clouded, with some obscurity
from the boldness of metaphors^ the abruptness
and unexpectedness of transitions, the pregnant
fullness of various senses, conveyed in few and
simple words, and the singularities of allegorical
or typical instructiori, so little in accordance with
our studies and manners.
To account for and, explain such passages has
constituted in effect the chief labour of commenta
tors and theologians, who have learnedly shown
that these are all in conformity to the taste and
genius ofthe eastern countries in which the books
were originally published, and for whose use
they were primarily and immediately intended.
But we may safely push this argument much
further. , This oriental character and genius still
remain the same, unchanged and unchangeable,
bearing the same indelible form which they did

24?
ages ago. Is it then unreasonable to -suppose*
that in the future progress of our religion, and
in the wide dispersion of its sacred books in all
the tongues of Asia and Africa, which is even
now going on* that much of what to us is strange
or dark, or at least until the mind has become
familiarized and imbued with its images and lan
guage, quite useless or unedifying, maybe that
very portion the most calculated to excite the
attention, to touch the feelings, or even to en
lighten the understandings, of thousands of
Christians in the wide and populous regions of
the east?
The turn of language, the choice of topics of
argument and of illustration, the adaptation of
thoughts and imagery to the tastes and opinions
of a people whose customs and language differ
so widely from those of modern cultivation, have
altogether the appearance of being expressly de
signed for the future use of communities, such as
those which we know to fill at present the greatest
and the fairest part of the habitable globe, and
who, in many points of character, strongly resem
ble those to whom this revelation^ in its earlier
stages, was immediately communicated. ' >
The ancient oriental mode of teaching by met
aphor, parable, and similitude, that dim sha
dowing of type and figure, which frequently most
vividly suggest an interior meaning, which yet

248
will not bear a'strict logical comparison with the
•imagery that conveys; it; that peculiar method
of intimating moral and abstract ideas, in
structions, and promises, by the medium bf phy
sical and sensible images, are some of the most
frequent sources of difficulty and, doubt to the
learned and speculative commentator. Yet, all
this is strictly . conformable to the intellectual
habits of those, whose lariguage is not enriched
with those Words produced by a high state pf
mental culture, and fitted for the conveyance of
abstract and purely intellectual notions. To a
large class of mankind, such ideas are communi
cated, it may be less accurately, but it is certain,
much more vividly, by illustrations and similitudes,
and emblems drawn from external nature, or from
the domestic affections, than by the precise lan
guage which has passed from the books and schools
of philosophy to more common usage. For the
same cause, that kind of illustration and of
phraseology which is most suited for the instruc
tion of all such or simpler nations, is (there is the
best ground for believing, both from actual ob
servation, and the reason of the thing) that which
is most impressive, and even most intelligible to
a great proportion of the body of unlearned
Christians in all times and countries.
Thus, by arguing from final causes, from the
probable intent and uses of revelatiori, we may

249
arrive at - the same conclusion which Origen*
long ago drew frorn the direct analogy with the
constitution of nature, " that he who believes the
scriptures to have proceeded frotti him who is the
Author of Nature, may well expect to find in them
the same sort of difficulties that are to be found
in the natural creation." ,
Neither in the study of God's material laws,
nor in that Pf the revelation of his Son, can any
limited being expect to comprehend the whole;
it is sufficient for .him that what is most fitted for
his own use, is placed within the reach of his own
mind. ' . -
* As quoted by -Ijptler in.liis Introduction to his Analogy,

32

APfcEftbiX;

Note A; p. 5.
It is a curious piece of literary Kistory, that this argument
tative tract, precisely ihe same in substance; and very simi
lar in forni, is to be found in English as Leslie's, aj_d in
French, printed as an original work among the collection of the
complete works of the Abbe St. Real, the author of the half his
torical, half romantic narrative ofthe conspiracy of Venice. It is
ascribed to St. Real by Priestley, and other English writers. Les
lie and St. Real were cotemporaries, and it increases the uncertain
ty of the question, that the Frenchman spent some time in Eng
land, and the Englisliman many years in France. B\it the internal
evidence is strongly in favour of Leslie. The- illustration drawn
from Stonetienge, and the allusions to some of the popular scepti
cal writers ofthe day are much more English than French. The
course of argument, and the points insisted upoh, are more in
the manner of a Protestant than of a Catholic writer, though not
so decidedly so as to settle the question. The yigorous and
close logic, and homely clearness, are more certain' marks of
Leslie's hand, being much in the style of his other multifarious
polemical and political writings, and altogether unlike that
of St. Real, whose few theological writings, though favourites of
his own, are considered as failures in point of ability, while his
reputation rests fchiefly upon the grace and , facility of his style*
and that exuberant and flowery imagination whicJi so often tempt
ed him (in the gentle phrase of bis eulogist) to use its fertili
ty as a remedy for tne barrenness of history ; " chercher dans la
f-Condit. d_ son imagination, des ressources contre la sterilite
de l'histoire."

252
An additional presumption against the elaim of St» Real to
this work, arises froiii the allowed fact, that the popularity of
St. Real's name occasioned various forgeries of the booksellers,
who, after, his death, published as his, several works; of historic
fiction, which are now known to have been written by obscure
authors of that day>- A list of these (s giveil in the preface to a
late. edition of his works* ahd though the title of the Method
with the Deists is not among them, there seems the highest pro--
bability that this was translated from the English* antf ascrib
ed to him in the same manner, either as a trick of the trade, Or j
it may be, as a sort of pjouS fraud, to'give currency to a valuable1
work, by lendijig it the attraction of a popular name.-
Note 6. p. 15.
Whether1 o_! rio tbe prophetic language can justly bea. ariy
other than one precise meaning ; or whether it may not have
been, originally intended fo apply primarily to temporal
events, and afterwards, in a manner analogous to the whole sys
tem of the, Jewish law^ and ritual, to bear a furthe. and moral -or
Christian meaning ? — Whether certain passages of the Old Tes
tament quoted in the New, -ire there cited as predictions really'
fulfilled, or simply in illustration, as a modern divine may quote?
scripture history in allusion, to. the political events^ of his own
times,, while, in fact, he neither believes^ nor means to have it
understood that he 1. elieves, that there is any thing like the ac
tual fulfilment of a prediction ?— These are, it is weH known,
subjects upon whi.h -learned and judicious men have differed.
They are, on many accounts, questions of great, interest, but
not, in my -opinion, necessarily involving that of the validity of
the prophetic evidence.
The principle which I have suggested in the pre .edipg pages
is of a more general application. It is in brief this. "Allowing
that there is nothing of a typical or secondary sense in the Psalms,
tbe Prophecies, or the poetry of the Old Testament, is it not still
very remarkable that so. much of its contents should b& singit-

253
krly adapted to suggest ideas analogous to the events, the uses^
and the blessings ofthe Christian dispensation, and should bear
so often a beautiful and happy allusive application to so many
of them? How happens it; that so much of these compositioiiSj
which are directly applicable only, to past events and usages,
should be capable of being employed with such slight and natu
ral adaptations to animate the devotions of Christian assemblies,
or to illustrate and enrich the eloquence or the instruction. of
Christian teachers ? »
If, in reading a poet or satirist, where we -could see no mark
of any continued allegory, we sliould yet be struck with a mul
titude of passages, bearing the' happiest and clearest application
to one set of events or characters within the probable know
ledge of the author, we should naturally believe that such an ap
plication, if not immediately v intended, was at, least among the
deSjgns of the writer.
Now, ori tiiis same principlej supported by a much larger in*
duction of particular allusions and applications than any poet is
like tb furnish, we may deduce the strongest reasons for believ*
ing that all this System was foreseen and intended, that the cor-»
rejsppndence and application was hot accidental, but designed.
If any one doubts this inference, and supposes that the ob
scurities of these ancient writers are such as to enable any
one to make what he fancies from them, let him chdose some ob
scure Greek or Latin author, one of those who'.have most exer
cised the patience and ingenuity of commentato_Sj and try the
same experiment upon them. Let him take Pindar or Persius,.
both confessedly among the most obscure ofthe remains of an-
tient literature ; both of them full of unexpected and rapid
transitipns, of allusions to manners and institutions whi.h are
now lost, and to opinions now to be huhted out ohiy by labori
ous study. Let him see ifhe can apply passage after passage
of such a writer in a predictive or even in a probably allusive
sense, to the doctrines and history of Mahomet, or of any mo
dern sect, or to the public events of any connected portion of
the history of modern Europe or America.

_.54
From this applicability, this fitness- for other uses than wer'e
originally in view, arises an evidence, if not of prediction in the
strict sense, yet of fore-knowledge, of intention, pf preparation,
of uniformity in the whole plan of revelation.
Note D. p. 79.*
This anticipated testimony of Socrates or Plato (no matter,
which jto the future revelation of man's duties, and his relation
to his Creator, is peculiarly valuable on several accounts. Whilst
it strikingly shows the unsatisfactoriness of all the conclusions to
which reason,' alone, can ever -attain upon these subjects, and af
fords the confessions of the wisest and best -men of antiquity,
to the need ahd worth of a revelatipn ; it also seems to me to
furnish an implied practical refutation pf Hume's famous though
unsubstantial arid purely verbal argument agairist miracles.
This argument, which, though it has puzzled many, has, I be
lieve, never corivfnied ahy who wer e hot anxious to be so con
vinced, denies (as is well known) the possibility of any- sufficient
proof of miracles, 'because they are against uniform past expert
encey on which alone our belief in testimony is founded. , But a
revelation, such as had never been made, and to which, as Plato
arid Socrates believed, nothing similar had ever taken place,
is equally against the uniform course of nature, with any physi
cal miracle. Yet, these philosophers were not only ready to
receive it wheh it should! be granted, but were even led by rea
son to expect it with some confidence— so little contradiction is
there, in fact, in any sound mind, between our belief in the con
tinuance and regularity of the laws of nature and the acknow
ledgment ' 6f the power of their author to' suspend or change
them. ' ,
In. Ktayntust out Wiirtftfiitut fativ tit ftiBu <_ t tu jrpof S.ov; _«i wpof _v-
B( mirwi, tuxuabzi. A A. IlOTi tui rrafirxi i jywvot euros, a Z_x/>_ t . ; x_jti_
a iraitiutrjst : Stir* j-_j it (toi to*.u if tit touts* tit Sutbpuim tic int. 212,
OSt-; irlt a* ftih.%1 _¦!/>$ s-ou. jfy}.£ . nil (tut, Sf rtg t»~ A/o^ii- aipss-l th 'A8»-

255
,_yr'OjUJffOC oi_- tut l$&x\u(ot dq&\iit tiv u%Kut, J <_£/>* iu yiytcoric ot if/it .- gap
(j- i Kxiittfn, oiitm nxi troi tilt am tit 4»_i»f n't Srn x^tMttx tit cijtxuv, »
tut irxfovvx tvyxjitit, tot»v<„/ot' »_TV» wfoirtspttt ti ut fuKtiui ytienhxt i/j.it
x__c» it. e „..i es-3-AoiF. «3k ,(_sv j-ig iii .» i«ol <fe„P . eCu mfliiva;. 1 AA. A. . if _T»,
tiTC fituMTxt, th d%Kut, hits *__o t<. _ c J5.00 T_f t- neixo-ftxi (tilth x> fwyeit
toJt urr iKthov ffooftxttorfvut , ortlt Trot' triy, 0 xvQpuirot' iiyz itiwotpu j6&-
rim ymrSrxt. 10.. 'Ahhii ttk _*_hvos 3-a.uf**svt 8- »v irtpi n iroobyiuxt *X*'-
AA. E« tot. toiwt _-* twv &uo-i*t _v_/__x>.s- .-xi xgdtTfrov i*v_i fuoi tomi.
'XQ. Kai Jfflac j.«' 0- o> <To_eJ. ar ftMrtpot j._i> irtt » vapxntttutiuut tosourot x/v-
tiitot. AA. 'Aax_ t»;, «- Xaxcxtts ; *«< |K»v TtijTovi tov r spwov, \iruti 11.01
toxiit y.ihoi; run^iSouKSunitxl, coi iriftbiir _¦• TOls, _-o7; cJ- jt_i _ «»«vobs *ai
.ot_\<t_-&rT_, T-VTK ti. tofil^iy.lyx -litl toSTOftit, ot_v \*t(ni tit i/JLifXt IK-
BoUO-tV itte. »|« - ' 0- . i_ /_ MfW, TOI/TOJ. -.XOPTOPV.
5* SqqSIates. You must therefore remain content until some
qne instruct you in your duties to Heaven and td men. Alcibi-
ades. When will .hat day arrive, my Socrates, and who will
that instructor be ?'.; Right gladly would I welcome him. Soc.
He it is, whose care ever watches over you. Yet it seems to mc
that, as Homer relates, the. (Jivinify of Wisdom dispelled the
cloud wliich hung before the eyes of Diomed,
And purg'd his sight, so as to distinguish God
From mortals, clearly ;  — — —
So you, too, stand in need that this power should disperse the
mist from off your mind, and then place within your reach that
which will enable you to distinguish good from evil ; for now,
ipdeed, you seem to me to b^ quite incapable of discerning them
fright, Alcib. Let it be asirfHe wills. Let him take away
that cloud, or any thing else, for I am resolved to submit to all
his injunctions, provided only I may become better. Soc. You
may rely upon his care of you being wonderful indeed. Alcib.
It is best, then, to postpone this sacrifice. Sqc. You say right.
It is much safer to dp so, thari t« expose yoiirself to peril by
an unworthy offering. Alcij. It is so. Let me, then, present
(this garland to you, my wise teacher. We will duly fulfil all
{he sacred rites, as soon as I perceive the approach ofthat pro
mised day. Heaven grant that it may nqt be long first."

256

Note E. p. 90.
" Avant done que d'ecrire, apprenez a penscr.
Selop que notre idee est plus ou moins obscure,
-.'expression la suit, ou ijjoins nette, ou plus pure.
Ce que Ton concoit" bien, s'enonce clair ement,
Et les mots pour le dire airivent ais.ment, :
Says Boileau, and a thousand mouth? and pens have repeated,
that clearness of expression will always follow clearness of
thought. In spite of the -high authority of, this poet of good taste and
common sense, and of the still higher authority of common
opinion, I must think that this rule, if true, must be taken with
multitudes of exceptions. The converse js always true — that
without distinctness of thought," there can be no perspicuity of
language. But we every day meet with men vy ho understand
their own meaning perfectly, and are yet often incompetent to
convey that meaning to others. This arises from various
eauses- — most commonly from a want of facility in translating
the.short hand of thought, which most men are accustomed to
employ in their own minds, to the more formal and , filled up
language of speaking or writing. The ideas, though intuitively
clear to the speaker^ are not sufficiently developed tq be made
distinct to others. The mind is not suffered to dwell sufficiently
long enough upon each thought, which is rapidly and imperfectly
presented to its examination, or1 -sise the thought is expressed in
words which have no ambiguity to him who uses them, but to
others, suggest innumerable meanings besides those intended to
be conveyed.
No power of thinking, without some natural or acquired ac
curacy and facility of expression will supply these deficiencies.
The celebrated John Hunter, the great anatomist and physio
logist, was a remarkable instance of an inventive and vigorous
mind, whose perfect command of his subject was never able to
supply him with the facundia find lucidus ordut that copiousness

257
and distinct arrangement which are sb boldly promised by the
closet critic to the laborious and successful student.
Bishop Butler is", though by no means to the same extent, an
other example of the same truth. I do not say that Butler ever
leaves the attentive reader at a loss for his meaning. But his
habits of abstract and metaphysical inquiry withdrew his atten
tion very much from external nature, and the business concerns
of life, and he, accordingly, deals too much in generals — he
wants vividness and variety pf illustration, and a more obvious,
distinct, and natural arrangement of argument. I have never met
with an intelligent reader of Butler, who did Hot enter into the
general scope of his reasoning and feel its force ; nor yet with
one who did not complain -of great obscurity and perplexity
in his management of it.
It would be rendering no small service tb the cause of religion
and science, if the Analogy could be re-written by some one en
dowed with Paley's faculty of clear and perspicuous reasoning,
and happy copiousness of Striking and1 alluring illustration.
Another memorable proof that no necessary connection exists
between clear thought and popular or perspicuous manner,, may
be found in the works, of a writer, whose speculations will, I
venture to pronounce, exercise a far more marked influence over
the public concerns and opinions of the remainder of this centu
ry, so far as relates to the great principles of political econo
my, and their most important applications, than those of any
other man of our day — I mean the late Mr. Ricardb.
Mr. Ricardo'js education and coursg'of life led i_im from par
ticular facts and practical details up to gerieral speculation ; and
it is, on that account, the more singular that he has presented •
his great and Original views of political economy in the most
naked and repulsive form, giving to the laws which govern the ;
creation_)f exchangeable value, the incidence of taxation, and the
nature of currency and credit, all the harsh abstractness of math
ematical propositions. He is not obscure from confusion of
thought, nor from ambiguity of language, but from want ofdevc-
33

.258
lqpment, and from taking too much for granted in the acuteness
and attention of his readers. Even most of those who enter per
fectly, into his sense, must read him and meditate him again and
again, before his system becomes familiar to, them, and perfectly
at their command.
Compare him with such a writer as Say — a writer, too, of no
common ability — how much clearer is the one — but how much
deeper the other !
The necessary imperfections of language, form another and
very efficient cause of partial obscurity: this is most operative
in the most original and profound writers and thinkers, when
they discuss subjects and ideas of pure intellect,, or of deep
and (if the phrase may be used) interior sentiment, far
removed from the ordinary thoughts and occupations of society,
and having little connection with the common pursuits of busi
ness or pleasure, or much resemblance to that material na
ture which surrounds us. The more profound, the more com
prehensive the views which may be given of these internal ahd
transcendental truths, of our mind, or of the universal laws of
intellect, or duty, or being, the more inadequate is that language
which has been formed for the ordinary purposes of life, to ex
press such thoughts to others, and the farther are they from the
common notions of most readers. . Truth will always at last be
come visible by its own light ; yet the difficulties arising from
imperfect language, and from want of sympathy on our part,
will often cloud its brightness. To be understood) it must
be long meditated. Many of the difficulties occurring in the
epistles of Paul, and in some other parts of the sacred Writings,
where there is no obscurity arising from' want of critical or his
torical knowledge, are, I think, mainly to be ascribed ta.this
cause.
Note F. p. 93.
I feel a reluctance to censure any thiijg from the pen of so
wise and worthy a man as Dr. Paley. Indeed, these plain old

259
English adjecti . es, wise and worthy, are, I think, singularly
expressive of his character as a man and an author. But his
scheme of morals, founded on a peculiar modification of the
theory of utility, combining the two dpctrines of self love as the
motive, and upiver,sal good as the rule of all moral action, and
rejecting all consideratipn of the nature of right and wrong,
founded in the iraim htable character of the Deity, and perceived
more or less clearly by reason, as well as aU regaf d to the senti
ment of moral beauty, is a very imperfect, though not .wholly
erroneous view ofthe ground and sanctions of moral obligation;
ahd it leads him towards conclusions full of danger. From
these he is in the main preserved, when he comes to apply his
theory to the actual business and conduct of life, by his sound
good sense, and his sincere respect for revelation. Still the
tendency has. been to lower the tbne of his morality, both in dig
nity of motive, and in simplicity and consistency of action.
When I read" his chapters on Lies, Oaths, and Subscriptions, in
the first part pf his Moral Philosophy, and then turn to the
chapters on Sincerity and Truth, in Godwin's Political Justice, I
blush to compare the too flexible ethics of the Christian divine
with the nobler and more bracing morality of the eloquent
sceptic. < These same defects, though more prominent in his Moral
Philosophy, may be occasionally traced in his chapter on .the
Morality of the Gospel, in his work on the Evidences, mixed with
much that is every way excellent.
There is in his argument upon this, point, an indistinctness
and confusion very rare in any thing from Dr. Paley's pen.
In the main, however, regarding all virtue as a matter of calcu
lation, in which good sense balances the anjount of personal or
general good to be attained by any given' course of action, he is
naturally led to underrate the originality of the revealed morali
ty ; and the main conclusion which he draws from its excellence
as confirming the revelation which contains it,, is, that it is such
as to repel the idea, of its, being the tradition of a barbarons ag«

260
or, of an ignorant people, ofthe religion being foiuided in folly
or in craft, or being the effusion of enthusiasm; but qn the con
trary, that, it proves the good sense of those to whom it owes its
origin, and that some regard is . due to the testimony of sucli
men, when they declare their knowledge that the religion pro
ceeded frotn God, and when they appeal for the truth of that as
sertion, to miracles which they wrought or had witnessed. In
the course of this discussion, higher views of the internal evi
dence of the Christian ethics, seem to have forced themselves
upon his notice, but being less in harmony with his imperfeqt
theory of morals, he has not unfolded them, nor insisted upon
them, with his usual perspicuity and talent.
In another respect this chapter is, I think, still more faulty.
The extensive popularity of the work will be a sufficient apology
for s, few remarks upon a subject, which is intimately connected'
with the consideration ofthe Evidences of Christianity.
I cannot conceive how so acute and distinguishing a reasoner,
could have adopted, without a much more distinct qualification,
Soame Jenyns' peculiar views of ¦ the Christian morality, al
though they may be made to harmonize sufficiently well with
his. own scheme of general utility. , ,
He states from Jenyns, in. rather stronger and more unqualifi
ed terms than Jenyns, had himself used, .the fpllowing proposi
tions : "'That the gospel omits some qualities which have natu
rally engaged the praises and admiration of mankind, but which,
in reality, and in their general effect, have been prejudicial to
human happiness," And, then exemplifies this- general propo
sition by the instances of. " Friendship, Patriotism, and active
Courage, in the sense-in which these qualities are usually under.
stood, and the conduct which they often produce."
There is certainly, to most minds, something very startling
and paradoxical in this position, and not a little revolting to our
natural and instinctive impressions of.character and cpnduct.
It is, I grant, very true, that these qualities, especially those
of patriotism and courage, do frequently produce, and have pro
duced conduct not consonant to Christian ethics.

261
These were, doubtless, the inspiring principles of action of
many an old Roman senator, as the elder Cato, for example-
constantly exciting him to build up the power of the
• — populum late regem, belloque superbum ;
and to trample down by force, fraud, and unconquerable perse
verance, the liberties of the rest of the world.
Let us suppose, however, that the courage and patriotism of
Cato had been otherwise directed. Let us suppose it exerted to
preserve the peace of Italy — to diffuse the arts of civilization —
to put an end to the ferocious amusements and grosser vices ef
his countrymen— to correct, to soften, to purify their morals —
that all this, had been the animating principle -and great object
of his life^r-lhat in this cause he had braved danger, and endu
red obloquy — would these qualities be then " prejudicial to hu
man happiness ?" Or would they not rather have been such as
<. Paul himself would approve and own?"
To me it is quite clear,, tbat the gospel morality agrees with
the common. and natural notibns of. mankind, in representing
friendship and patriotism not precisely as virtues, but, as
natural and laudable affections, congenial to the true nature, and
capable of developing the best qualities of man ; and active cou.
rage as being an admirable and valuable gift of heaven, whether
it be of the physical kind, inwrought in the constitution, or of a
moral nature, created by the energies of a strong mind and
powerful, emotions. They may, of course, all be ill directed,
turned to vile uses, mixed with baser passions ; but so far from
being omitted in the gospel, they are there exhibited in their
noblest attitudes and most vivid colours.
What shall we say of the strong breathings of St. Paul's
friendship to his youthful colleague and companion ? — what of
his ardent aspirations of personal affection towards his erring
Corinthian converts ? When lie reminds them of his labours
and hardships in his Master's cause, what higher examples can
wc have of active courage, than are found in his animated re
cital of his past life, of his labours, of his dangers, of his daring?

_»62
'* In journeyings oftei. ; in perils of water ; in perils of robbers j
in perils by mine own countrymen ; in perils by the heathen ;
in perils in the city ; _n perils in the wilderness ; in perils in the
sea ; in perils among false brethren," __c.
The calmness with which the Apostle contemplates these dan
gers, and the resolution with which he endures them, are not to
be considered as mere passive courage ; they are something
more than patience, and resignation, and cheerful submission
under unavoidable calamity. If the resolutely, and firmly,
and voluntarily encountering known danger for the Sake of
a worthy object, the exercise of all the powers of the mind ¦ and
the body, to subdue or avoid the evil, so far as it may be right
and expedient, the meeting and facing the evil' whenever duty
bids, instead of waiting for it; if this be not active courage
then we must confine that appellation to the brute valour of the
ferocious combatant, who plunges into danger from mere ani
mal impulse.
The exclusion of patriotism from the list of Christian virtues,
is still more in contradiction to the exhibition of character, man
ifested by the great Apostle. Where is there in the eloquence
of classical antiquity, or of modern liberty, so glorious and ip-
t ense a burst of patriotic feeling as that in the Epistle to the Ro
mans, when he mourns over the incredulity and punishment of
his beloved, apostate, rejected, yet, stiH, favoured countrymen,
pouring forth his great heaviness and continual sorrow ofthe
heart for his " kinsmen according, to the flesh, who are Israel-
ftesj to whom pertainetli the adoption, the glory, and the cov
enants, and the giving of the law, and the service, and the
promises," &c.
The supposed opposition of patriotism to the Christian pre
cepts of expanded and universal benevolence, arises wholly from
false views of the nature and objects of love of country — from no.
tions of it which are as unsound in referehce to political wisdom
as they are hostile to the mild spirit of Christian morality. It
arises from considering patriotism as necessarily impelling Us

263
(to use the words of Soame Jenyns) '•' to oppress all other
countries to- advance the imaginary interest of our own." It
may indeed do so, and we know that it has often done so. But
this was because that it was as blind to the true interests and
happiness pf its own country, as regardless of those of others.
Parental affection, or filial duty, may lead, to the same results,
and we know that they frpquently do So. They too, in blind en
deavours to promote the supposed welfare of those whom it is
our duty to love or honour, have led many to invade the
rights of their neighbours, by fraud or violence. But the
true interest of every country, and its lasting happiness and real
glory, have no connection with tyrranny or conquest, any more
than the real welfare of a family has with the means of grati
fying ostentatious pride, acquired by fraud and rapine.
This attempt to thrust patriotism from that seat by the throne
of true virtue, which the common consent of mankind has always
assigned to it, is not peculiar to a few modern Christian wri
ters, (for it should be remarked that it is a refinement of which
Christian antiquity never dreamt,) but really comes from a very
different school. It has been a favourite doctrine of not a few-
sceptical and licentious moralists, who have designed to shake
our faith in all moral excellence, by showing some necessary
contradictions between our most palpable duties.
" To be a good patriot, says Voltaire, que must often become
the enemy of all the rest of mahkind. To be a good
citizen, is to wish your city to bo enriched by commerce,
or. to become powerful by arms. But it is clear that no
country can gain without some other loses, and that it is im
possible to make conquests without making many wretched.
Such is the condition of humanity ;• to wish for greatness for
ourselves is to wish evil to our neighbours. He who wishes
that his own country should never be greater, smaller, richer or
pporer than it now is, is alone the true citizen of the world."*
* II est triste que souvent pour .tie bon patriote on soit l'enneini da rest,.
des hommes. L'ancicn Caton. cc boncitojen, disait ton jours en opinant an

264
Mow perfect and how beautiful is the harmony of all truth .'
How intimately connected are the duties of man with his best
and most immediate interests ! Wherever the ingenuity of alicen-
i tious morality or a sceptical or paradoxical philosophy attempts
to array our duties against each other, or in opposition to the
pure and warm sentiments which approve themselves as right to
the untaught consciences of all thinking men, whatever logical
plausibility may at the first view appear in the argument, we
may rely upon' it, that this contradiction is not, and cannot be,
real. In this particular instance, the refutation is furnished not
less by the lessons of a sound political sagacity, than it is by the
quicker suggestions ofthe spirit of real Christian benevolence.
An enlightened philosophy sees in the honourable and regu
lar profits of Commerce, not the pickpocket gains ofthe gambler
-or swindler, who (as Voltaire says of the commercial nation)
can never gain except some other person loses ; but the communi
cation and interchange between districts or nations, ofthat which
in the lavish abundance of some particular gift of nature is su
perfluous to each, for that which increases its comforts or plea
sures ; an exchange in which the increased wealth and happiness
of each nation adds to the wealth of all, by augmenting their means
of enjoyment, by opening new markets for their productions, and
by affording an additional stimulus to their industry.
An enlightened patriotism contemplates the power ofthe coun
try of our affections, not as the instrument of tyranny and ag-

Senat ; tel est mon avis, et qu'on. ruine Carthage. Etre bon patriotc, c'est
souhaiter que sa ville s'enrichisse par le commerce, et soit puissante par les
arraes. II est <_ air qu'un pays ne peut gagner sans qu'une autre perde, et
qu'elle ne pentvaincre sans faire des malheureux.
Tel est done la condition humain., que souhaitcr la grandeur, c'est sou-
haiter du mal a ses voisins. Celui qui voudrait que sa patrie he fut jamais
ni plus grande, ni plus petite, ni plusriche, nipluspauvre, serait le citoyen.
de I'univers. Voltaire) Diet. Phil. Mot Pairie.

265
gression, but as bestowing the ability to stretch out the strong
arm of protection over the heads of each of its citizens, shielding
his rights, his home and his happiness, from injury or insult. Far
from wishing that such a country should never become greater,
the patriot will rightly mourn over every imperfection in her civil
government or external relations which dwarfs her growth and
cramps her energies. He will look With an exultation unmix
ed with any selfish feeling upon the peaceful triumphs of her
arts and her industry, and will joy to see liberty, and enterprise,
and education subduing the wilderness or the ocean, andspread-
ing over the waste places of the earth, a more glorious and more
lasting empire than military ambition fiver grasped in its wildest
dreams. The good man and the wise man joys in all this, because he
knows well that true and lasting national greatness is never pur
chased at the expense of others, but that it is built up by that
well-directed talent and enterprise, by that freedom and virtue,
which, while they cover his own land with lustre, must at length
send-forth the rays of their mild and cheering warmth to the re
mote ends of the- earth.
Knowing and feeling this, he whose heart beats truly and
warmly for his native land, needs not the lessons of Smith, Say,
or Ricardo, to teach him, that whenever the love of country ar
ray's itself against the expanded philanthropy which Christi
anity enjoins, it then becomes blind, and doting, and fabe to its
own real interests,
Note G. p. 135.
In the phrase " the Idols of our secret worship," an indirect
ullusion has been made to the well-known philosophical meta
phor, or rather Allegory of Lord Bacon, who, in summing up
the causes of error in judgment, thus symbolically represents
those prejudices and intellectual defects of individuals, tending to
darken the perceptions or distort the judgment in important inqui
ries, which are a species of moral idiosyncrasies, belonging pn-
' 34

266
ly to the individual, and arising frdn-i personal peculiarities of -
temperament and constitution, of education, of externalor acci
dental circumstances, of custom, pleasures, habits of spciety, or of
long pursued and favourite studies. These he represents as the
tutelary idols to which each individual offers his solitary worship.
in his own dark caverh, apd sometimes sacrifices, truth and;
sometimes virtue upon their shrine.
"Idqla Specus sunt idola hominis indivrdui. Habet enim
unus quisque (praeter aberrationes naturae humanae in genere)
specum sive cavernam .quandam individuam, quae lumen naturae,
frangit et corrumpit ; vel propter naturam cujusque propriam et
singularem, vel propter educationem et conversationem cum aliis
Vel propter lectionem librorum, et auctoritates eorum quos
quisque colit et miratur^ vel propter differentia* impressionum
prout occurrunt in animo occupato et prsedisposito, aut in animo
equo et sedato, vel ejusmodi ; ut plane Spiritus humanus (prout
disponitur in hominibus singulis) sit res varia, et omnino pertu.7
bata et quasi fortuita." Novum Orgtmorij 1. 42.
These secret singularities afford the clue to many of those
l r
strange anomalies' of -character, and Stranger circumstances of
conduct, which a man must live with little observation pf others
or of himself, to fail to remark.
Could these be made fully known to us, we should no longer be
surprised at the " fears of the^rave and the follies of the wise."
But they can so little be reduced to rule, and must be so imper
fectly understood by others, that iri moral and religious instruc
tion it is hazardous to depart frpm those - grand generali
ties, that embrace all interests arid involve motives of unbound
ed application.
But, whilst in forming our practical opinions, we are thus lia
ble to be swayed by our peculiar and invisible propensities ;
speculative men, when they undertake to instruct others, are as
much under the dominion of that spirit of system which aims at
seducing all truth, to rules, definitions, and uniform, and precise

267
arrangement. In doing this, they insensibly blend it with their
own theories, or else omit that portion of it not congenial to their
own characters. Thus, in those speculative minds, who have
been the leaders of sects, the lights of science, the iiistructors of
the people, moral peculiarities have influenced their most purely
intellectual operations. The most dangerous and extravagant
theories may be connected by a strong and close link un
known to the man himself, with some secret vice or favourite
folly in which the mind is wont to indulge, when it retires to its
recesses, and -Lisports itself in what Johnson has happily called
'-' its invincible riots, the secret prodigality of being, secure from
detection and fearless of reproach."-

ERRATA.
_*age 9, line 2, for confirming, read confirm.
29, line 4, dele marks of quotation from the word literally.
52, line 8 from bottom, for its, read theirs.
93, line 6 from bottom, for objection, read obligation.
137, for rectamandi, read reclamandi.
188, line 15, for their read these.
225, line 3 from bottom, for historian read historians.

YALE UNIVERSITY

a.

3M 195b