The relative political and commercial condition of nations at the present moment, affords several special grounds of reasoning, on which the extention of Christianity may be anticipated as a probable event. Among topics of this class may be named that of the diffusion of the English language—the language which beyond comparison with any other is spreading and running through all the earth, and which, by the commerce and enterprise of two independent and powerful states, is colonizing the shores of every sea; this language, now pouring itself over all the waste places of the earth, is the principal medium of Christian truth and feeling, and is rich in every means of Christian instruction, and is fraught with religious sentiment, in all kinds, adapted to the taste of the philosopher, the cottager, and the infant. Almost apart, therefore, from missionary labor, the spread of this language insures the spread of the religion of the Bible. The doctrine is entwined with the language, and can hardly be disjoined. If the two expansive principles of colonization and commercial enterprise, once diffused the language and religion of Greece completely around every sea known to ancient navigation, it is now much more probable that the same principles of diffusion will carry English institutions, and English opinions, into every climate.
But in calculations or speculations of this sort, merely secular as they are, much less is included than truly belongs to the question at issue. Not to assume the truth of Christianity, and not to argue on the ground of its divine excellence, and not to confide in those prospective declarations, the certainty of which has been attested beyond possibility of doubt, is not only to grope in the dark when we might walk in the light of noon, but to exclude from the working of our problem the very facts of most significance in its determination. To estimate fairly the probability of the universal triumph of true religion, a second method must be pursued, in which the existing condition of the Christian church is to be contemplated with a Christian feeling. When thus viewed it will appear that a promise of a new kind is now bursting from the bud; and the inference may confidently be drawn that "summer is nigh."
For the purpose of measuring the progress of religion, attempts have sometimes been made to effect a sort of Christian statistics, or calculation of the actual number of true believers throughout the world. But the propriety of such an application of arithmetic is far from being conspicuous; and seeing that the subject of computation lies confessedly beneath the reach of the human eye, its accuracy may be absolutely denied. Endeavors, again, have been made to judge of the advance or decline of religion by comparing the state of devotional feeling and of morals in the present and in other times. But all such comparisons must be deemed, at the best, extremelyvague, and open to immense errors, arising either from the prepossessions of the individual who makes the comparison, or from the want of data sufficiently ample and exact; and probably from both.
No attempts of this delusive kind will here be offered to the reader; but instead of them, certain unquestionable and obvious facts will be assumed as affording reasonable ground of very exhilarating hopes.
If any one were required, without premeditation, to give a reply to the question—What is the most prominent circumstance in the present state of the Christian Church? he would, if sufficiently informed on the subject, almost certainly answer—The honor done to the Scriptures. Such an answer may be supposed as suggested by the conspicuousness of the fact. Now in order to gather our inference safely from this fact, it is necessary to look back for a moment to past times.
In the first and best age of the church, the deference paid to the inspired writings, whether of prophets or apostles, was as great as can be imagined to exist: and whatever of beneficial influence belongs to the Sacred Volume, was then actually in operation; or it was so with a single drawback, namely—that arising from the scarcity of the book, and its non-existence in the hands of the Christian commonalty. To estimate duly the greatness of this disadvantage, let it be imagined what would be the effect, among ourselves, of a sudden withdrawment of almost all but the church copies of the Scriptures. This suppositionneed not be enlarged upon, for every devotional Christian, and every master of a family feels that, in whatever way the loss might be attempted to be supplied, it would still be afflicting and injurious in the extremest degree.
In the next, and the declining period of church history, if the above-named disadvantage was in some small degree remedied by the multiplication of copies, the benefit was much more than overbalanced by the promulgation and general prevalence of a false and very pernicious system of exposition; a system which sheathed the "sword of the Spirit," and scarcely left it its power or penetrating the conscience. The immediate consequence of this abuse of the rule of faith and practice was the rapid growth of a thousand corruptions. Thus, while in lip and in ceremonial the Scriptures held their seat of authority, they were dislodged from the throne of power. A night of a thousand years succeeded, during which the witnesses of God lay in their tomb, literally and virtually hidden, and silenced, and degraded.
The Reformation was, in all senses, a resurrection of the Bible: it was its recovery and restoration as an ancient document; and the recognition of its authority as the word of God; and the discovery of its meaning as a rule of faith, and worship, and life; and its new diffusion through the Christian body. The restoration of the Scriptures to their place of power and honor brought with it a revival of true piety, scarcely, if at all, inferior in extent and fervency to that which attended the preaching of theapostles. There were, however, deductions from the full influence and permanent benefit that might have resulted from this recovery of the sacred canon. Of these deductions, the first was the limited and imperfect diffusion of copies; for though the publication of the Bible by means of the press was actually great, it fell very far short of being complete. The next deduction arose from the infant state of the science of biblical criticism; the next, from the still unbroken influence of scholastic systems and modes of expression, which spread a dense coloring medium over the lucidness of the apostolic style; the next, and the most considerable and pernicious of these drawbacks, arose from the acrimony of controversy, and from that spirit of contumacious scrupulosity which is the parent of schism. These imperfections were great enough to bar the progress of Christianity, and to sully its glory at the time, and to procure the speedy decline of piety in all the Protestant countries.
But when the present aspect of the church is compared with its condition at the era of the Reformation, several circumstances connected with the state of the Scriptures offer themselves to observation, that are decidedly in favor of our times; and such as seem pregnant with hope for the future. Of these, the first is the unexampled multiplication and diffusion of the sacred volume: the second, is the progress that has been made towards bringing the original text to a state of undisputed purity; as well as the advancement of the science of biblical criticism, by which means the verbal meaning of theinspired writers is now ascertained more satisfactorily than at any time since the apostolic age: and the third, is the incipient adoption of an improved method of exposition; attended by an increasing disposition to bow to the Bible, as the only arbiter in matters of religion. It remains, then, briefly to point out in what manner these auspicious circumstances support the hope of an approaching revival of genuine religion.
For the first of them, namely, the multiplication and diffusion of the sacred volume:
Whenever the true and the false in matters of religion are brought into conflict, two things are necessary to secure the triumph of the better side, namely, in the first place, that the sound opinion should be set forth in a perspicuous and convincing manner; and then, that it should be borne forwards over the resistances of antiquated prejudice, and worldly interest, and secular power, by the momentum of public feeling. It is not the single preaching even of an archangel, that could effect the renovation of the church when it really needs to be brought back to purity and health. All the logic of heaven would die unheeded on the ear, unless it were re-echoed from the multitude. Now if it may for a moment be assumed that a general rectification of doctrine and practice, and a revival of primitive piety is actually about to take place, what is that preliminary measure which might be anticipated as the necessary means of giving irresistible force, and universal spread to such a reformation? What but the placing of the sacred canon, the arbiter of alldispute, and the fountain of all motives, previously in the hands of the people of every country? If, in the coming era, the teachers of religion are to insist upon its doctrines and duties with new force and clearness, their success must be expected to bear proportion to the existence of scriptural knowledge, or to the means of acquiring it, among those whom they address.
An extraordinary excitement of religious feeling, arising previously to the general circulation of the Scriptures, can hardly be imagined to take so prosperous and safe a course, as it would, if it followed that circulation. So far as a conjecture on the methods of divine procedure may be hazarded; it must be believed that the extensive dissemination of the Scriptures, which has of late been carrying on, and which is still in active progress, in all those parts of the world that are accessible to Christian zeal, is a precursive measure, soon to be followed by that happy revolution of which it gives so intelligible an augury.
Let it be said, and perhaps it may be said with some truth, that the actual religious impression hitherto produced by the copious issuing of Bibles among the common people in our own and other countries, is less remarkable than might have been anticipated; then, with so much the more confidence may the belief be entertained that this extraordinary publication of the will of God to man is, on the part of him who overrules all events for the furtherance of his gracious designs, altogether a prospective measure; and that the special intentionof these many translations, and of these countless reprints of the Bible is yet to be developed.
Is there much of gratuitous assumption, or of unwarrantable speculation in picturing the present position of mankind in some such manner as the following?—During a long course of ages a controversy, managed with various success, has been carried on here and there in the world, on the great questions of immortality, and of the liability of man to future punishment, as the transgressor of the divine law; and concerning the terms of reconciliation. Hitherto, there has stood, on the affirmative, or religious side of this controversy, only a small and scattered party; while on the other side, there has remained, with more or less of active hostility, the great majority of mankind, who have chosen to pursue the interests of the present life, as if no doctrine of immortality had been credibly announced; and who have dared the future displeasure of the Most High; and have ventured the loss of endless happiness; and have spurned the conditions of pardon. But it is imagined that now, events of a new order are to bring this momentous controversy to a final crisis. Yet before the moment of awful decision comes on, and while all minds remain in the listlessness of the ancient apathy, and while the winds of high commotion lie hushed in the caverns of divine restraint—in this season of portentous tranquillity, those writings, upon the authority of which the issue is to turn, are put into every hand; and although the hands that receive them, seem now to hold the book with a careless grasp,ere long an alarm shall be sounded through all nations; and all shall be roused from their spiritual sleep, and shall awake to feel that the interests of an endless life are in suspense: then shall it appear for what purpose the Bible has first been delivered to every people!
These views, it is granted, are in part conjectural, and yet, who that entertains a belief of the providential guidance of the Christian church, can suppose that the most remarkable course of events that has hitherto ever marked the history of the Scriptures, is not charged with the accomplishment of some unusual revolution? and what revolution less than the installment of the inspired volume in the throne of universal authority, can be thought of, as the probable result of the work that is now carrying forwards? If the prejudices of the sceptical spirit, which, in some degree, blind even the most devout, were removed, every eye, accustomed to penetrate futurity, would see, in the recent diffusion of the Sacred Writings, an indubitable sign of their approaching triumph over all forms of impiety and false religion.
The friends of Bible Societies might, on this ground, find a motive for activity that would be proof against all discouragement. When missionary efforts meet disappointment, and when accomplished teachers are removed in quick succession by death, and when stations where much toil has been expended are abandoned, and when converts fall away from their profession, the whole fruit of zeal perishes: but it is otherwise in the work of translatingand of multiplying the Scriptures; for although these endeavors should at first be rejected by those for whose benefit they are designed; still, what has been done is not lost; the seed sown may spring up, even after a century of winter. Even if the existing Bible Societies, at home and abroad, should do nothing more than accomplish the initiative labors of translation, and should spend their revenues in filling their warehouses with an undemanded stock of Bibles, they would almost insure the universal diffusion of true religion in the ensuing age. Immediate success is doubtless to be coveted; but though this should be withheld, the work of translation and of printing is pregnant with an infallible promise.
The restoration of the Sacred Text to a state of almost undisputed purity, the accumulation of the resources of biblical criticism, and the great advances that have been made in the business of ascertaining the grammatical sense of the inspired writers, are circumstances in a very high degree conducive to the expected prevalence of genuine religion. Both infidelity and heresy have, till of late, found harborage in the supposed, or pretended, corruption, or uncertainty of the canon. And the whole of those small successes, which have served, from time to time, to keep alive the flickering hopes of heterodoxy, have been drawn from the detection of petty faults in the received text. There was a season when some, even of the champions of orthodoxy, became infected with unwarrantable fears and suspicions on this ground. But the utmost depth oftheἕλκοςhas been probed. The most sanguine sceptic can henceforward hardly hope to derive any new or important advantages from this source. The text of the Scriptures is now in a state more satisfactory than that of any other ancient writings; and though ignorance may go on to prate as it is wont, no theologian, who would not forfeit his reputation as a scholar, dares to insist upon objections which some years ago were thought to be of the most formidable kind.
It is remarkable that this work of purgation and restoration, which, like that of the translation and diffusion of the Scriptures, is manifestly of a preliminary kind, should have been completed at this precise moment. Had these doubts and suspicions remained unexamined and unsettled, they might greatly have checked the progress of a future religious revival: they might have given birth to new heresies, vigorous from the enhanced tone of general feeling; they might have shaken the minds of the faithful, and have distracted the attention of the ministers of religion. But this preparatory work is done; and so fully have the holds of sceptical doctrine been searched into, and so thoroughly has the invalidity of its pleas been exposed, that nothing is now wanted but an energetic movement of the public mind to shake off forever all its withering sophisms.
It is not as if even the most faulty translation of the Scriptures; or one made from the most defective text, would not abundantly convey all necessary religious truth; or, as if Christian doctrine andpractice were, to any great extent, dependent upon philological exactitude of any kind. But in removing occasions for the cavils and insinuations of captious or timid spirits, the literary restoration of the Bible, and the abundant means of ascertaining the grammatical sense of its phrases, is highly important. And in looking towards the future, it must be regarded as a circumstance of peculiar significance that the documents of our faith have just passed through the severest possible ordeal of hostile criticism at the very moment when they are in course of delivery to all nations.
The recent progress made towards the adoption of an improved method of exposition demands to be named amongst the most auspicious indications of the present times. Insensibly, and undesignedly, and from the operation of various causes, all well-intentioned theologians have of late been fast advancing towards that simple and rational method of inferring the doctrine of Scripture which corresponds with the inductive method of inquiry, practiced in the pursuit of physical science. Just as, in the ancient schools of philosophy, each pretended expounder of the mysteries of nature, first framed his theory, and then imposed upon all phenomena such an interpretation as would best accord with his hypothesis; so have biblical expositors, in long succession, from the ancient Jewish doctors, to the Christian divines of the last century, with very few, if any exceptions, followed the method of interpreting each separate portion of Scripture by the aid of apreviously formed theological hypothesis. And although these theories of divinity may have been, perhaps, fairly founded upon scriptural evidence, partially obtained, they have often exerted an influence scarcely less pernicious than as if they had been altogether erroneous. This system once admitted to constitute a synopsis of truth, has been suffered to exercise the most arrogant domination over every part of Scripture in detail. Certain dogmas, awfully clothed in the clouds of metaphysical phraseology, have bid defiance to the most explicit evidence of an opposite meaning; and no text has been permitted to utter its testimony, until it had been placed on the rack.
But the folly and impiety of this style of interpretation have become conspicuous; and though not yet quite abandoned, it is left to those whose minds have been too long habituated to trammels to move at all without them. The rule of the new mode of exposition is founded on a principle precisely analogous to that which forms the basis of the inductive method of inquiry in physical science. In these sciences it is now universally admitted, that, at the best, and after all possible diligence and sagacity have been employed, we can scarcely penetrate beyond the exterior movements of the material system; while the interior mechanism of nature still defies human scrutiny. Nothing then could be more preposterous than to commence the study of nature by laying down, theoretically, the plan of those hidden and central contrivances, as if they were open to observation; and then to work outwardsfrom that centre, and to explain all facts that come under observation in conformity with principles so ignorantly assumed. This is indeed to take a lie in our right hand, as the key of knowledge: yet such was the philosophy which ruled the world for ages!
The method of hypothetical interpretation is, if possible, more absurd in theology than in natural science. Every mind not infatuated by intellectual vanity, must admit, that it is only some few necessary points of knowledge, relating to the constitution and movements of the infinite and spiritual world, that can be made the matter of revelation to mankind; and these must be offered in detached portions, apart from their symmetry. Meanwhile the vast interior, the immeasurable whole, is not merely concealed, but is in itself strictly incomprehensible by human faculties. Metaphysical projections of the moral system, how neat soever, and entire, and plausible they may seem, can have no place in what deserves to be called a rational theology. We not only do not know, but we could not learn, the very things which the framer of a "scientific divinity" professes to spread forth in all their due proportions on his chart of the upper world.
The mode in which the necessarily incomplete revelation of that upper world is conveyed in the Scriptures, is in harmony with that in which the phenomena of nature offer themselves to our notice. The sum or amount of divine knowledge really intended to be conveyed to us, has been broken up and scattered over a various surface: it has beenhalf-hidden, and half-displayed; it has been couched beneath hasty and incidental allusions; it has been doled out in morsels and in atoms. There are no logical synopses in the Bible; there are no scientific presentations of the body of divinity; no comprehensive digests; for such would have been not only unsuited to popular taste and comprehension, but actually impracticable; since they must have contained that which neither the mind of man can receive, nor his language embody. Better far might a seraph attempt to convey the largeness of his celestial ideas to a child, than God impart a systematic revelation to man. On the contrary, it is almost as if the vessel of divine philosophy had been wrecked and broken in a distant storm; and as if the fragments only had come drifting upon our world, which, like an islet in the ocean of eternity, has drawn to itself what might be floating near its shores.
The abrupt and illogical style of oriental composition, and in some instances, the characteristic simplicity of untutored minds, are to be regarded as the appropriate means chosen for imparting to mankind such loose particles of religious truth as it was necessary for them to receive. This inartificial vehicle was, of all others, the one best adapted to the conveyance of a revelation, necessarily imperfect and partial.
Now it is manifest that the mode of exposition must be conformed to the style of the document; and this conformity demands that the inductive method, invariably, should be used for gleaning the sense ofScripture. While employing all the well-known means proper for ascertaining the grammatical sense of ancient writers, each single passage of the Inspired Volume, like a single phenomenon of nature, is to be interrogated for its evidence, without any solicitude for the fate of a preconceived theory, and without asking—How is this evidence to be reconciled with that derived from other quarters?—for it is remembered that the revelation we are studying is a partial discovery of facts, which could not be more than imperfectly made known. Whoever has not yet fully satisfied himself that the Scriptures, throughout, were "given by inspiration of God," should lose no time in determining that doubt: but if it be determined, then it is a flagrant inconsistency not to confide in the principle that the Bible is everywhere truly consistent with itself, whether or not we have the means of tracing its agreements. And while this principle is adhered to, no sentiment or fact plainly contained in the words, need be refused or contorted on account of its apparent incongruity with "systematic divinity."
In this manner only is it possible that the whole amount of religious knowledge intended to be imparted by the Scriptures can be gathered from them. It must be granted as not only probable, but certain, that whatever relates to infinity, to the Divine nature, to the ultimate purposes of the Divine government, to the unseen worlds, and to the future state, and even to the mechanism of motives, must offer itself to the human understanding in a form beset with difficulties. That this must actually be the casemight be demonstrated with mathematical certainty. If therefore we resolve to receive from the Inspired Writers nothing but what we can reconcile, first to certain abstruse notions, and then to a particular interpretation of other passages, the consequence is inevitable—that we obtain a theology, needlessly limited, if not erroneous.
It may fairly be supposed that there are treasures of divine knowledge yet latent beneath the surface of the Scriptures, which the practice of scholastic exposition, so long adhered to, on all sides, has locked up from the use of the Church; and it may be hoped, that when that method has fallen completely into disuse, and when the simple and humble style of inductive interpretation is better understood, and is more constantly resorted to than at present, and when the necessary imperfection and incoherency of all human knowledge of divine things is fully recognized, and when the vain attempt to fashion a miniature model of the spiritual universe is for ever abandoned, and when whatever the Inspired Writers either explicitly affirm, or obscurely intimate, is embraced in simplicity of heart, that then the boundaries of our prospect of the hidden and the future world may be vastly enlarged. Nor is this all; for in the same manner the occasions of controversy will be almost entirely removed; and though small differences of opinion may remain, it will be seen by all to be flagrantly absurd to assume such inconsiderable diversities as the pretexts of dissention and separation.
No one cordially reverencing the Bible, and believingit to be given by inspiration of God, who is "not the author of confusion, but of order," can imagine it to have been so worded and constructed as to necessitate important diversities of interpretation among those who humbly and diligently labor to obtain its meaning. Nor will any but bigots deny that, with those who differ from themselves, there may be found diligence and sincerity quite equal to their own. What account then is to be given of those contrarieties of opinion which continue to sully the glory of the Christian Church, and to deprive it almost entirely of its expansive energy?
In endeavouring to give a satisfactory reply to this important question, we are, of course, entitled to dismiss from the discussion, first, those errors of doctrine which spring immediately from the prepossessions of proud and unholy minds, and which are not to be refuted until such evil dispositions are rectified. It is not a better exposition of Scripture, merely, that will afford an efficient remedy for such false opinions. In the next place it is proper to put out of the question all those politico-religious divisions which, as they originated in accident, so now rest for their maintenance much less upon reason, than upon the authority of habit, and the pertinacity of party feeling, or perhaps even upon motives of secular interest. All such causes of schism must be scattered to the winds whenever the authoritative force of the divine injunctions to peace and union, and mutual forbearance, is vividly felt.
There should moreover be dismissed from the question those differences that have arisen in the Church on some special points of antiquarian obscurity. These having been in a past age absurdly lifted into importance by an exaggerated notion of the right and duty of Christians to stickle upon their individual opinions, even at the cost of the great law of love, are now pretty generally felt by men of right feeling, to be heir-looms of shame and disadvantage to whoever holds them. A very probable return to good sense and piety is all that is needed to get rid for ever of such disputes. If the utmost endeavors of competent and honest men, on both sides, have not availed to put certain questions of ancient usage beyond doubt; then it is manifest that such points do not belong to the fundamentals of faith or practice; and therefore can never afford ground of justifiable separation; nor should the Christian commonalty be encouraged to suppose that the solemnities of conscience are implicated in the decision of questions which, even the most learned cannot in fact decide. What less than a grievous injury to right feelings can ensue from the popular belief that the manifold evils of religious dissension are mischiefs of small moment, compared with the breach of some niceties of ceremonial? Shall Christianity spread in the world, and show itself glorious, while practical absurdities like these are persisted in? assuredly not. But there is reason to believe, even in spite of the fixedness of some unsocial spirits, that the date of schism is nearly expired, and that a better understanding of the great law of Christwill ere long bring all his true followers into the same fold.
When the deductions named above have been made, the remaining differences that exist among the pious are such only as may fairly be attributed to the influence of the old theoretic system of interpretation; and they are such as must presently disappear when the rule ofINDUCTIVE EXPOSITIONshall be thoroughly understood and generally practised. The hope therefore of an approaching prosperous era in the Church depends, in great measure, upon the probability of a cordial return to the authority of Scripture—of Scripture unshackled by hypothesis. It is this return alone that can remove the misunderstandings which have parted the body of Christ; and it is the reunion of the faithful that must usher in better times.
That a torn church should be eminently prosperous, that it should be favored as the instrument of diffusing the Gospel with triumphant success, and on a large scale, among the nations, cannot be imagined; for doubtless the Head of the church holds the most emphatic of his admonitions in higher esteem than that he should easily brook the breach and contempt of it, and put extraordinary honor upon those who seem to love their particular opinions more than they do "his commandment."
Even without laying any great stress upon that softening of party prejudices which has of late actually taken place, the hope of a near termination of controversy, and of the healing of all permanent differences among true Christians, may still rest onsolid ground. An intelligent faith in the divine origination of the Scriptures contains necessarily a belief in their power to bring the catholic church into a state of unity, so that division should no more be thought of. That, during so many ages this has not been the condition of the Christian body, is satisfactorily to be attributed to causes which are by no means of inevitable perpetuity; but, which on the contrary, seem now to be approaching their last stage of feeble existence. Meanwhile the Oracles of God are visibly ascending to the zenith of their rightful power. The necessary preparations for their instalment in the place of undisputed authority are completed; and nothing is waited for but a movement of general feeling, to give them such influence as shall bear down whatever now obstructs the universal communion of the faithful.
An expectation of this sort will, of course, be spurned by those (if there are any such) who, were they deprived of their darling sectarism, and robbed of their sinister preferences, would scarcely care at all for Christianity, and to whom the idea of Catholic Christianity, if they can admit such an idea, is a cold abstraction. And it will be rejected also by those who, though their feelings are Christian, accustom themselves to look at the state of religion always with a secular eye, and are indisposed to admit any suppositions not obtruded upon them by immediate matters of fact. To all such persons the existing obstacles that stand in the way of Church union must seem utterly insurmountable, and the hope of an annihilation of party distinctions, altogetherchimerical. But it is not to such minds that the appeal is to be made when futurity is in question; for such are always slaves of the past, and of the present; and they are destined to stand by, and wonder, and cavil, while happy revolutions are in progress; and it is only when resistance to the course of things becomes impracticable, that they are dragged on reluctantly, more like captives than attendants, upon the triumphant march of truth.
This assuredly may be asserted, that, so far as human agency can operate to bring on a better era to the church, he who despairs of it, hinders it, to the extent of his influence; while he who expects it hastens it so far as it may be accelerated. This difference of feeling might even be assumed as furnishing a test of character; and it might be affirmed, that when the question of the probable revival and spread of Christianity is freely agitated, those who embrace the affirmative side, are (with few exceptions) the persons whose temper of mind is the most in harmony with the expected happy revolution, and who would, with the greatest readiness, act their parts in the new and better economy; while on the Contrary, those who contentedly or despondingly give a long date to existing imperfections and corruptions, may fairly be suspected of loving "the things that are" too well.
There is yet another line of argument, wholly independent of the two that have been pursued above, in which the general spread of true religion might be made to appear an event probably not veryremote; namely, the argument from prophecy. But besides that the subject is by far too large and serious to be treated hastily, the time is not arrived in which it might be discussed with the calmness it demands. Yet in passing this subject it may be suggested to whose who, notwithstanding that they admit the truth of Christianity, constantly deride genuine piety whenever it comes in their way, that, though the apparent course of events seems to indicate a gradual improvement, such as would give time to oppugners to choose the wiser part, and to range themselves quietly in the train of the conquering religion, the general tenor of scriptural prediction holds out a different prospect, and gives great reason to suppose that the final triumph of the Gospel is to be ushered in by some sudden and vindictive visitation, which shall arrest impiety in its full career, and deny for ever to the then impenitent the option of making a better choice.
Thefollowing anecdote is reported by Sulpitius, concerning St. Martin of Tours. The Emperor Maximus, a man of a haughty temper, and elated by victories over his rivals, had received the unworthy adulation of a crowd of fawning bishops; while Martin alone maintained the apostolic authority. For when suits were to be urged, he rather commanded than entreated the royal compliance, and refused many solicitations to take a place with others of his order at the imperial table, saying, that he would not eat bread with a man who had deprived one emperor of his throne, and another of life. But at length, when Maximus excused his assumption of the purple by pleading the force that had been put upon him by the legions, the use he had made of power, and the apparent sanction of heaven in the successes with which he had been favored, and stated also that he had never destroyed an enemy except in open fight, Martin, overcome by reason, or by entreaties, repaired to the royal banquet, to the great joy of the emperor. The tables were crowded by persons of quality; among them, the brother and uncle of Maximus; between these reclined one of Martin's presbyters; he himself occupied a seat near the emperor. During supper, according to custom, the waiter presented a goblet of wine to the emperor, who commanded it rather to be offered to so holy a bishop, from whose hand he expected and desired to receive it again. But Martin, when he had drank of the cup, handed it to his presbyter, not deeming any one present more worthy to drink after himself; nor would he have thought it becoming to his character had he preferred even the emperor, or those next to him in dignity, to his own presbyter. It is added, that Maximus and his officers took this contempt in exceeding good part!—Sulp. Sev. de Vita B. Martin, cap. xx.The same writer reports a not less characteristic incident in honor of the holy bishop, in his dialogue concerning the miraculous powers of St. Martin. This personage, it seems, was in the habit of frequenting the palace, where he was always honorably entertained by the empress, who not only hung upon his lips for instruction, but in imitation of the penitent mentioned in the gospels, actuallybathed his feet with her tears, and wiped them with her hair; and he, who never before had sustained the touch of woman, could not avoid her assiduities. She, unmindful of the state and dignity and splendors of her royal rank, lay prostrate at the feet of Martin, whence she could not be removed until she had obtained permission, first from her husband, and then by his aid from the bishop, to wait upon him at table as his servant, without the assistance of any menial. The blessed man could no longer resist her importunities; and the empress herself made the requisite preparations of the couch, and table, and cookery (in temperate style), and water for the hands; and, as he sat, stood aloof, and motionless, in the manner proper to a slave; with due modesty and humility, mixing and presenting the wine. And when the meal was ended, reverently collected the crumbs, which she deemed of higher worth than the delicacies of a royal banquet.—Cap. 6.In how short a time may prodigious revolutions take place in the sentiments of men! This monkish bishop was removed by not more than three or four lives from the Apostle John! And this humble empress occupied the honors which, within the memory of the existing generation, had been sustained by the mother of Galerius! It should be added, that the auditor of the story above related, shocked at the inconsistency of St. Martin in thus admitting the offices of a woman so near his devoted person, requires from the narrator an explanation; who, in reply, reminds his friend, that the compliance of the bishop with the solicitations of the emperor and empress was the price by which he obtained, from the former, release and grace for the persecuted Priscillianists. The best thing, by far, related of the bishop of Tours, is his firmness in opposing persecution. There is great reason to believe that, in common with several of the most noted characters of church history, his true reputation has been immensely injured by the ill-judging zeal of his biographer.The life of St. Anthony, by the pious and respectable Athanasius, would alone afford ample proof of the assertion, that, even in the third century, the spirit of fanaticism, and the practices of religious knavery, had reached a height scarcely surpassed at any later period.The first Christian monks followed the Essenes in this particular also, that they despised human science; and it was not until learning had been driven from among secular persons, that it took refuge in monasteries. If the monks had avoided the infection of the philosophy, "falsely so called," which the Platonists brought into the church, and instead, had given their leisure to the toils of biblical learning, they would not so soon and so completely have spoiled Christianity.Sulpitius affords abundant illustration of the topics adverted to in this section. Perhaps, within so small a compass, the principles and practices of the ancient monachism are nowhere else so fully brought into view, as in his Dialogues and Epistles. He may properly be quoted in the present instance. Postumianus, lately returned from the east, that is to say, from Egypt, Arabia, and Palestine, describes to his astonished brethren of a monastery in Gaul, the abstemiousness the oriental monks, as well as their piety and marvellous exploits. (On his outward voyage Postumianus had gone ashore at Carthage to visit the spots dedicated to the saints; especially—ad sepulchrum Cypriani Martyris adorare.) His first specimen of a monkish dinner, in the oriental style, was the being invited to partake, with four others, of half a barley cake; to which was added a handful of a certain sweet herb, altogether deemed to be—prandium locupletissimum. Sulpitius hence takes occasion to joke a brother, who was present, upon their own comparative appetites; but he replies that it was extremely unkind to urge uponGaulsa manner of living proper only to angels. Hearty eating, says he, in a Greek, is gluttony; but in a Gaul—nature.
Thefollowing anecdote is reported by Sulpitius, concerning St. Martin of Tours. The Emperor Maximus, a man of a haughty temper, and elated by victories over his rivals, had received the unworthy adulation of a crowd of fawning bishops; while Martin alone maintained the apostolic authority. For when suits were to be urged, he rather commanded than entreated the royal compliance, and refused many solicitations to take a place with others of his order at the imperial table, saying, that he would not eat bread with a man who had deprived one emperor of his throne, and another of life. But at length, when Maximus excused his assumption of the purple by pleading the force that had been put upon him by the legions, the use he had made of power, and the apparent sanction of heaven in the successes with which he had been favored, and stated also that he had never destroyed an enemy except in open fight, Martin, overcome by reason, or by entreaties, repaired to the royal banquet, to the great joy of the emperor. The tables were crowded by persons of quality; among them, the brother and uncle of Maximus; between these reclined one of Martin's presbyters; he himself occupied a seat near the emperor. During supper, according to custom, the waiter presented a goblet of wine to the emperor, who commanded it rather to be offered to so holy a bishop, from whose hand he expected and desired to receive it again. But Martin, when he had drank of the cup, handed it to his presbyter, not deeming any one present more worthy to drink after himself; nor would he have thought it becoming to his character had he preferred even the emperor, or those next to him in dignity, to his own presbyter. It is added, that Maximus and his officers took this contempt in exceeding good part!—Sulp. Sev. de Vita B. Martin, cap. xx.
The same writer reports a not less characteristic incident in honor of the holy bishop, in his dialogue concerning the miraculous powers of St. Martin. This personage, it seems, was in the habit of frequenting the palace, where he was always honorably entertained by the empress, who not only hung upon his lips for instruction, but in imitation of the penitent mentioned in the gospels, actuallybathed his feet with her tears, and wiped them with her hair; and he, who never before had sustained the touch of woman, could not avoid her assiduities. She, unmindful of the state and dignity and splendors of her royal rank, lay prostrate at the feet of Martin, whence she could not be removed until she had obtained permission, first from her husband, and then by his aid from the bishop, to wait upon him at table as his servant, without the assistance of any menial. The blessed man could no longer resist her importunities; and the empress herself made the requisite preparations of the couch, and table, and cookery (in temperate style), and water for the hands; and, as he sat, stood aloof, and motionless, in the manner proper to a slave; with due modesty and humility, mixing and presenting the wine. And when the meal was ended, reverently collected the crumbs, which she deemed of higher worth than the delicacies of a royal banquet.—Cap. 6.
In how short a time may prodigious revolutions take place in the sentiments of men! This monkish bishop was removed by not more than three or four lives from the Apostle John! And this humble empress occupied the honors which, within the memory of the existing generation, had been sustained by the mother of Galerius! It should be added, that the auditor of the story above related, shocked at the inconsistency of St. Martin in thus admitting the offices of a woman so near his devoted person, requires from the narrator an explanation; who, in reply, reminds his friend, that the compliance of the bishop with the solicitations of the emperor and empress was the price by which he obtained, from the former, release and grace for the persecuted Priscillianists. The best thing, by far, related of the bishop of Tours, is his firmness in opposing persecution. There is great reason to believe that, in common with several of the most noted characters of church history, his true reputation has been immensely injured by the ill-judging zeal of his biographer.
The life of St. Anthony, by the pious and respectable Athanasius, would alone afford ample proof of the assertion, that, even in the third century, the spirit of fanaticism, and the practices of religious knavery, had reached a height scarcely surpassed at any later period.
The first Christian monks followed the Essenes in this particular also, that they despised human science; and it was not until learning had been driven from among secular persons, that it took refuge in monasteries. If the monks had avoided the infection of the philosophy, "falsely so called," which the Platonists brought into the church, and instead, had given their leisure to the toils of biblical learning, they would not so soon and so completely have spoiled Christianity.
Sulpitius affords abundant illustration of the topics adverted to in this section. Perhaps, within so small a compass, the principles and practices of the ancient monachism are nowhere else so fully brought into view, as in his Dialogues and Epistles. He may properly be quoted in the present instance. Postumianus, lately returned from the east, that is to say, from Egypt, Arabia, and Palestine, describes to his astonished brethren of a monastery in Gaul, the abstemiousness the oriental monks, as well as their piety and marvellous exploits. (On his outward voyage Postumianus had gone ashore at Carthage to visit the spots dedicated to the saints; especially—ad sepulchrum Cypriani Martyris adorare.) His first specimen of a monkish dinner, in the oriental style, was the being invited to partake, with four others, of half a barley cake; to which was added a handful of a certain sweet herb, altogether deemed to be—prandium locupletissimum. Sulpitius hence takes occasion to joke a brother, who was present, upon their own comparative appetites; but he replies that it was extremely unkind to urge uponGaulsa manner of living proper only to angels. Hearty eating, says he, in a Greek, is gluttony; but in a Gaul—nature.
Thedictates of good sense are often curiously intermingled in the writings of the fathers with the defence of the absurd system they espoused. The incongruous mixture, has it not been of frequent occurrence in every age? Cyril of Jerusalem, in the fourth of his Catechetical Discourses, and in the sectionπερι σωματος, with great vigor and propriety urges the consideration referred to above, while reprehending those, in his time, who affected to despise and maltreat the body. "Is not the body," says he, "the excellent workmanship of God?" and he reminds the ascetic that it is the soul, not the body, that sins. He goes on, in a lively manner, to hold forth the mean of wisdom between opposite extremes; and while he much commends the monkish celibacy, nevertheless bestows upon matrimony its due praise. The fathers, by appropriating the wordscontinence,chastity,temperance,virtue, to the monastic life, robbed the Christian community of that standard of morals which belongs to all. Our Lord and his apostles enjoined purity, and continence, and temperance, and heavenly-mindedness, upon Christians universally, married and unmarried, engaged or not engaged, in the affairs of common life. But the monks shuddered to talk of purity and celibacy as if separable. What part then could the married claim in the practical portions of Scripture? These holy precepts were the property of theelect of Christ, that is, of the monks. Such are the consequences of extravagance in religion!The story of Symeon Stylites, told by Theodoret, has been often repented. The well-attested exploits of the fakirs of India render this, and many similar accounts related by the same writer, by Gregory Nyssen, Sozomen, &c., perfectly credible in all but a few of the particulars; and in these it is evident that the writers were imposed upon. The fasts professed to have been undergone by Symeon, by Anthony, and by others of tho same class, most certainly surpass the powers of human nature; and must be held either to convict those monks and their accomplices of fraud, or their biographers of falsehood.Ignatius must be held to have set an example of unhappy consequence to the church. His ardor for martyrdom, though unquestionably connected with genuine and exalted piety, was altogether unwarranted by apostolic precept or example, and stands in the strongest contrast imaginable with the manner of Paul, when placed in similar circumstances, whose calm, manly, and spirited defence of his life, liberty, and civic immunities, on every occasion, imparts the highest possible argumentative value to his sufferings in the cause of Christianity. Let it be imagined that Ignatius had acquitted himself in the same spirit; had pleaded with Trajan for his life, on the grounds of universal justice, and Roman law; had established his innocence of any crime known to the law; and had then professed distinctly the reasons of his Christian profession; and at the same time calmly declared his determination to die rather than deny his convictions. How precious a document would have been the narrative of such a martyrdom! There can be no doubt that many such martyrdoms actually took place; but they were less to the taste of the church historians of the third and fourth centuries than those that were made conspicuous by an ostentation of eagerness to die. The First Epistle of Peter holds forth the principle and temper of Christian submission under persecution with a dignity, calmness, pathos, good sense, and a perfect freedom from fanatical excitement, which, if no other document of our faith were extant, would fully carry the proof of the truth of Christianity.No serious consideration need be given to those miraculous narratives which exist only in biographies composed in a turgid style of laudatory exaggeration, and not published, or not fairly and fully published, till long after the deaths of the operator, and of the witnesses. An instance precisely in point is the life of Gregory of Neocæsarea, by Gregory Nyssen: another of like kind has also been frequently quoted—the life of St. Martin, by Sulpitius Severus: the life of Cyprian, by his Deacon Pontius, might be included; as well as that of St. Anthony, by Athanasius. In passing, it may be observed that a perusal of the last-mentioned tract, which fills only same fifty pages, would convey a more exact and vivid idea of thestate and style of religion in the fourth century, than is to be obtained by reading volumes of modern compilations of church history. At once the piety and the strong sense of the writer, and the extraordinary character of the narrative, give it a peculiar claim to attention. Let the intelligent reader of this curious document take the occasion to estimate the value and amount of the information that is to be received from modern writers—even the best of them, such as Mosheim and Milner, for example, of whom the first gives the mere husk of church history, and the other only some separated particles of pure farina. But can we in either of these methods obtain the solid and safe instruction which a true knowledge of human character and conduct should convey? It may be very edifying to read page after page of picked sentiments of piety; but do these culled portions, which actually belie the mass whence they are taken, communicate what an intelligent reader of history looks for—namely, a real picture and image of mankind in past ages? Certainly not. If nothing be wanted but pleasing expressions of Christian feeling, there can no need to make a painful search for them in the bulky tomes of the Greek and Latin fathers. Nevertheless, with all its defects, Milner's Church History is one of the best that has been compiled. A modern reader, led astray by the malign falsifications of Gibbon, and very partially informed of facts by church historians, has no means of correctly estimating the state of Christianity in remote times; or none but that of examining for himself the literary remains of ecclesiastical antiquity.Transcriber's Note.Apparent typographical errors have been corrected.
Thedictates of good sense are often curiously intermingled in the writings of the fathers with the defence of the absurd system they espoused. The incongruous mixture, has it not been of frequent occurrence in every age? Cyril of Jerusalem, in the fourth of his Catechetical Discourses, and in the sectionπερι σωματος, with great vigor and propriety urges the consideration referred to above, while reprehending those, in his time, who affected to despise and maltreat the body. "Is not the body," says he, "the excellent workmanship of God?" and he reminds the ascetic that it is the soul, not the body, that sins. He goes on, in a lively manner, to hold forth the mean of wisdom between opposite extremes; and while he much commends the monkish celibacy, nevertheless bestows upon matrimony its due praise. The fathers, by appropriating the wordscontinence,chastity,temperance,virtue, to the monastic life, robbed the Christian community of that standard of morals which belongs to all. Our Lord and his apostles enjoined purity, and continence, and temperance, and heavenly-mindedness, upon Christians universally, married and unmarried, engaged or not engaged, in the affairs of common life. But the monks shuddered to talk of purity and celibacy as if separable. What part then could the married claim in the practical portions of Scripture? These holy precepts were the property of theelect of Christ, that is, of the monks. Such are the consequences of extravagance in religion!
The story of Symeon Stylites, told by Theodoret, has been often repented. The well-attested exploits of the fakirs of India render this, and many similar accounts related by the same writer, by Gregory Nyssen, Sozomen, &c., perfectly credible in all but a few of the particulars; and in these it is evident that the writers were imposed upon. The fasts professed to have been undergone by Symeon, by Anthony, and by others of tho same class, most certainly surpass the powers of human nature; and must be held either to convict those monks and their accomplices of fraud, or their biographers of falsehood.
Ignatius must be held to have set an example of unhappy consequence to the church. His ardor for martyrdom, though unquestionably connected with genuine and exalted piety, was altogether unwarranted by apostolic precept or example, and stands in the strongest contrast imaginable with the manner of Paul, when placed in similar circumstances, whose calm, manly, and spirited defence of his life, liberty, and civic immunities, on every occasion, imparts the highest possible argumentative value to his sufferings in the cause of Christianity. Let it be imagined that Ignatius had acquitted himself in the same spirit; had pleaded with Trajan for his life, on the grounds of universal justice, and Roman law; had established his innocence of any crime known to the law; and had then professed distinctly the reasons of his Christian profession; and at the same time calmly declared his determination to die rather than deny his convictions. How precious a document would have been the narrative of such a martyrdom! There can be no doubt that many such martyrdoms actually took place; but they were less to the taste of the church historians of the third and fourth centuries than those that were made conspicuous by an ostentation of eagerness to die. The First Epistle of Peter holds forth the principle and temper of Christian submission under persecution with a dignity, calmness, pathos, good sense, and a perfect freedom from fanatical excitement, which, if no other document of our faith were extant, would fully carry the proof of the truth of Christianity.
No serious consideration need be given to those miraculous narratives which exist only in biographies composed in a turgid style of laudatory exaggeration, and not published, or not fairly and fully published, till long after the deaths of the operator, and of the witnesses. An instance precisely in point is the life of Gregory of Neocæsarea, by Gregory Nyssen: another of like kind has also been frequently quoted—the life of St. Martin, by Sulpitius Severus: the life of Cyprian, by his Deacon Pontius, might be included; as well as that of St. Anthony, by Athanasius. In passing, it may be observed that a perusal of the last-mentioned tract, which fills only same fifty pages, would convey a more exact and vivid idea of thestate and style of religion in the fourth century, than is to be obtained by reading volumes of modern compilations of church history. At once the piety and the strong sense of the writer, and the extraordinary character of the narrative, give it a peculiar claim to attention. Let the intelligent reader of this curious document take the occasion to estimate the value and amount of the information that is to be received from modern writers—even the best of them, such as Mosheim and Milner, for example, of whom the first gives the mere husk of church history, and the other only some separated particles of pure farina. But can we in either of these methods obtain the solid and safe instruction which a true knowledge of human character and conduct should convey? It may be very edifying to read page after page of picked sentiments of piety; but do these culled portions, which actually belie the mass whence they are taken, communicate what an intelligent reader of history looks for—namely, a real picture and image of mankind in past ages? Certainly not. If nothing be wanted but pleasing expressions of Christian feeling, there can no need to make a painful search for them in the bulky tomes of the Greek and Latin fathers. Nevertheless, with all its defects, Milner's Church History is one of the best that has been compiled. A modern reader, led astray by the malign falsifications of Gibbon, and very partially informed of facts by church historians, has no means of correctly estimating the state of Christianity in remote times; or none but that of examining for himself the literary remains of ecclesiastical antiquity.
Transcriber's Note.Apparent typographical errors have been corrected.
Transcriber's Note.
Apparent typographical errors have been corrected.