Chapter 32

§ 1. Definition of the Church Doctrine.

“The fundamental formula for the doctrine of the Trinity, as defined by the Church,” says Twesten,(72) “is, that in one divine essence or nature there are three persons, distinguished from each other by certain characteristics, and indivisibly participating in that one nature.” The “Augsburg Confession,” says, in like manner, “three persons in one essence.”(73) So the “Gallic Confession,” and other Church Confessions, which say almost the same thing in the same words.(74)

The explanations given to these phrases vary indefinitely. Nitzsch (System d. Christ. Lehre, § 80) says, “We stand related in such a way, with all our Christian experience (Gewerdensein und Werden), to the one, eternal, divine essence, who is love, that in the Son we adore love as mediating and speaking, in the spirit as fellowship and life, in the Father as source and origin.” Schleiermacher considers this doctrine as not any immediate expression of the Christian consciousness, and declares that “our communion with Christ might be just the same if we knew nothing at all of this transcendent mystery.” Hase says,(75) “This Church dogma always has floated between Unitarianism, Tritheism, and Sabellianism, asserting the premises of all three, and denying their conclusions only by maintaining the opposite.”

All sorts of illustrations have been used from the earliest times—such as fountain, brook, river; root, stalk, branch; memory, understanding, will;(76) soul, reason, sense;(77) three persons in grammar, the teacher, the person spoken to, and that spoken of.(78) Some mystics argued the necessity of three persons in the Deity for the sake of a divine society and mutual love.(79) Lessing argues that “God from eternity must have contemplated that which is most perfect, but that is himself; but to contemplate with God, is to create; God’s thought of himself, therefore, must be a being, but a divine being, that is, God, the Son God; but these two, God the thinker and God the thought, are in perfect divine harmony, and this harmony is the Spirit.”(80) Leibnitz also considers the Trinity as illustrated best by the process of reflection in the human mind. Strauss objects to this class of definitions, that they are two elements united in a third, while the Church doctrine requires three united in a fourth.

The Church doctrine concerning the Trinity appears most fully developed in its Orthodox form in what is called the Creed of St. Athanasius. It was not written by him, but by some one in the fifth or sixth century.

1. Whosoever will be saved, before all things must take care to keep the Catholic faith:

2. Which except one keeps it entire and inviolate, he shall without doubt perish everlastingly.

3. But the Catholic faith is this: that we adore one God in Trinity, and the Trinity in Unity;

4. Neither confounding the persons, nor dividing the substance.

5. For there is one person of the Father, another of the Son, and another of the Holy Spirit.

6. But the divinity of the Father, Son, and Spirit, is one, the glory equal, the majesty equal.

7. As is the Father, so is the Son, and so is the Holy Spirit.

8. The Father is uncreated, the Son is uncreated, and the Holy Spirit uncreated.

9. The Father immeasurable,(81) the Son immeasurable, and the Holy Spirit immeasurable.

10. The Father eternal, the Son eternal, and the Holy Spirit eternal.

11. And yet there are not three Eternals, but one Eternal.

12. And so there are not _three_ uncreated, nor _three_ immeasurable, but _one_ uncreated, and _one_ immeasurable.

13. So the Father is omnipotent, the Son is omnipotent, and the Holy Spirit is omnipotent.

14. And yet there are not _three_ omnipotents, but one omnipotent.

15. So the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Spirit is God.

16. And yet there are not _three_ Gods, but _one_ God.

17. So the Father is Lord, the Son is Lord, and the Holy Spirit is Lord.

18. And yet there are not _three_ Lords, but _one_ Lord.

19. For as we are compelled by Christian truth to confess of each one, that each person(82) is God and Lord; so we are forbidden by the Catholic religion from saying three Gods or three Lords.

20. The Father is not made, nor created, nor begotten.

21. The Son is from the Father alone; not made, nor created, _but begotten_.

22. The Holy Spirit is from the Son and the Father; not created, nor begotten, but _proceeding_.

23. Therefore there is one Father, and not three; one Son, and not three; one Holy Spirit, and not three.

24. And in this Trinity there is none before or after, none greater or less, but all three Persons are coeternal and coequal.

25. So that everywhere we must adore the Unity in Trinity, and the Trinity in Unity.

26. Whoever, therefore, would be saved, must think thus of the Trinity.

§ 2. History of the Doctrine.

In the Christian Church, the history of this doctrine is interesting and important. Some sort of Triad, or Trinity, existed in very early times, although the Orthodox form was not established until later.

At first, the prevailing doctrine is that of subordination; that is, that the Son and the Spirit are inferior to the Father. But, as the Son and the Spirit were also called divine, those who thought thus were accused of believing in three Gods.(83) Some then said, that the Father was alone divine; and these were called Monarchians. Others, wishing to retain the divinity of the Son and Spirit, and yet to believe in one God, said that the _divinity_ in the Father, in the Son, and in the Spirit, was essentially the same, but that the divinity of the Father was the fountain from which that of the Son and Spirit was derived. This was fixed as Orthodox at the Council of Nice, A.D. 325, and was the beginning of Orthodoxy in the Church. It was a middle course between Scylla and Charybdis, which were represented on the one side by Arius, who maintained that the Son was created out of nothing; and by Sabellius on the other hand, who maintained that the Son was only a mode, manifestation, or name of God; God being called the Father, as Creator of the world; called Son, as Redeemer of the world; and Spirit, as Sanctifier of the world. The Council of Nice declared that the Son was not a manifestation of God, as Sabellius said, nor a creation by God, as Arius said, but a derivation from God.(84) Just as the essence of the fountain flows into the stream derived from it, so the essence of the Father flows into the Son, who is derived from him. Here, then, we have the three formulas of the early Church—that of Arius, who says, “The Son was created by the Father, and is inferior to him;” that of Sabellius, who says, “The Father, Son, and Spirit, are manifestations of God, and the same essence;” and Orthodoxy, as the Council of Nice, trying to stand between them, and saying, “The Son is derived from the Father, and is of the same essence with him.”

The Church, ever since, has been like a ship beating against head winds between opposing shores. It has stood on one tack to avoid Arianism or Tritheism, till it finds itself running into Sabellianism; then it goes about, and stands away till it comes near Arianism or Tritheism again. Unitarianism is on both sides: on one side in the form of one God, with a threefold manifestation of himself; on the other side in the form of a Supreme God, with the Son and Spirit subordinate. It has always been very hard to be Orthodox; for, to do so, one must distinguish the Persons, and yet not divide the substance, of the Deity. In keeping the three Persons distinctly separate, there was great danger of making three distinct Gods. On the other hand, if one tried to make the Unity distinct, there was danger that the Persons would grow shadowy, and disappear.

The heaviest charge against the Church doctrine of the Trinity is, that, driven to despair by these difficulties, it has at last made Orthodoxy consist, not in any sound belief, but only in sound phrases. It is not believing anything, but saying something, which now makes a man Orthodox. If you will only use the _word_ “Trinity” in any sense, if you will only call Christ God in any sense, you are Orthodox.

§ 3. Errors in the Church Doctrine of the Trinity.

The errors in the popular view concerning the Trinity, as it is at present held, appear to be these:—

1. _The Trinity is held as a mere dogma_, or form of words, not as a reality. It is held in the letter, not in the spirit. There is no power in it, nor life in it; and it is in no sense an object of faith to those who accept it. They do not believe it, but rather believe that they ought to believe it. There are certain texts in Scripture which seem to assert it, certain elaborate arguments which appear convincing and irrefutable. On the strength of these texts and these arguments, they believe that they ought to believe it. But it is a matter of conscience, not of heart; of logic, not of life; of law, not of love. It is not held as a Christian doctrine ought to be held, with the heart; but only philosophically, with the head. If it should cease to be preached for a few years in Orthodox pulpits, it would cease to be believed; it would drop out of the faith, or rather out of the creed, of the community. Unitarianism has extended itself, without being preached, from the simple reading of the Bible. But Trinitarianism cannot be trusted to its own power. It has no hold on the heart. Here, in Massachusetts, the ministers left off preaching the Trinity, and the consequence was, that the people became Unitarian. Unitarianism in New England was not diffused by preaching: it came of itself, as soon as the clergy left off preaching the Trinity. This shows how worthless, empty, and soulless the doctrine was and is. Instead of this formal doctrine, we want something vital.

2. _Another objection to the present form of the Trinity is, that it is not only scholastic, or purely intellectual, but that it is also negative._ It is not even a positive doctrine. It is often charged against Unitarianism, that it is a mere negation; and, in one sense, the charge is well founded. Unitarianism is a negation, so far as it is a mere piece of reasoning against Orthodoxy; but, as asserting the divine Unity, it is very positive, But the doctrine of the Trinity _is_ a mere negation, as it is usually held; because it is an empty form of denial. It only can be defined or expressed negatively. The three Persons are not substances, on the one hand; nor qualities, on the other hand. It is not Sabellianism, nor is it Arianism. Every term connected with the Trinity has been selected, not to express a truth, but to avoid an error. The term “one essence” was chosen in order to exclude Arianism; the term “three Persons,” or subsistences, was chosen in order to avoid Sabellianism.

Because the doctrine is thus a negation, it has failed of its chief use. It has become exclusive; whereas, when stated truly, as a positive truth, it would become inclusive. Rightly stated, it would bind together all true religion in one harmonious whole, comprehending in its universal sweep everything true in natural religion, everything true in reason, and uniting them in vital union, without discord and without confusion. Every manifestation which God has made of himself in nature, in Christ, and in the human soul, would be accepted and vitally recognized by Christianity, which comes, not to destroy, but to fulfil. The doctrine of the Trinity would be the highest form of reconciliation or atonement,—reconciling all varieties in one great harmony; reconciling the natural and supernatural, law and grace, time and eternity, fate and freedom.

But, before illustrating this, we must consider further some of the objections to the common form of the doctrine.

3. _It is also charged against the doctrine of the Trinity, __“__that it is a contradiction in terms, and therefore essentially incredible.__”_ To this it is replied, that it would be a contradiction if God were called Three _in the same sense_ in which he is called One; but not otherwise. The answer is perfectly satisfactory; and we therefore proceed to ask, In what sense is he called Three, and in what sense is he called One? The answer is, The Unity is of essence, or substance: the Trinity is of persons. This answer, again, is satisfactory, provided we know what is meant by these two terms. But the difficulty is to know what is meant by the word “person.” We are expressly informed, that this term is not used in its usual sense; for, if it were, it would divide the essence, and three Persons would be the same as three Gods. On the other hand, we are told that it means more than the three characters or manifestations. Here lies the difficulty, and the whole of the rational difficulty, in the doctrine of the Trinity. It is all on the side of the Triad. When we ask, What do you mean by “the three”? there can be given but three answers,—two of them distinct, and one indistinct. These answers are, (1.) We mean three somethings, which we cannot define; (2.) We mean three Persons, like Peter, James, and John; (3.) We mean three manifestations, characters, or modes of being. Let us consider these three answers.

(_a._) “The three Persons are three somethings, which cannot be defined. It is a mystery. It is above reason. There is mystery in everything, and there must be mystery in the Deity.” So Augustine said, long ago, “We say three Persons, not because we have anything to say, but because we want to say something.”(85) But if one uses the phrase “three Persons,” and refuses to define it positively, merely defining it negatively, saying, “It does not mean this, and it does not mean that, and I don’t know what it does mean,” he avoids, it is true, the difficulties, and escapes the objections; but he does it by giving up the article of faith. No one can deny that there _may be_ three unknown distinctions in the divine nature; but no one can be asked to believe in them, till he is told what they are. To say, therefore, that the Trinity is a mystery, is to abandon it as an article of faith, and make of it only a subject of speculation. We avoid the contradiction; but we do it by relinquishing the doctrine.

This fact is not sufficiently considered by Trinitarians. They first demand of us to believe the doctrine of the Trinity, and, when pressed to state distinctly the doctrine, retire into the protection of mystery, and decline giving any distinct account of it. Now, no human being ever denied the existence of mysteries connected with God, and nature, and all life. To assure us, therefore, that such mysteries exist, is slightly superfluous. But, on the other hand, no human being ever _believed_, or could _believe_, a mystery, any more than he could see anything invisible or hear anything inaudible. To believe a doctrine, the first condition is, that all its terms shall be distinct and intelligible.

(_b._) The second answer to the question is, “We mean, by Persons, three Persons, like Peter, James, and John.” According to this answer, the _Trinity_ remains, but the _Unity_ disappears. This answer leaves the Persons distinct, but the Unity indistinct. The Persons are not confounded; but the essence is divided. The Tri-personality is maintained, but at the expense of the Unity. In fact, this answer gives us Tritheism, or three Gods, whose unity is only an entire _agreement_ of feeling and action. But this answer we may set aside as unorthodox, no less than unscriptural.

(_c._) Having thus disposed of each other possible answer, there remains only that which makes of the three Persons three revelations or manifestations of God, or representations of God. This answer avoids all the difficulties. It avoids that of _contradiction_; as we do not say that God is one in the same sense in which he is three, but in a different sense. It avoids the objection of _obscurity_; for it is a distinct statement. It avoids the objection of Tritheism; for it leaves the Unity untouched. Moreover, it is a real Trinity, and not merely nominal. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost are not merely three different names for the same thing, but they indicate three different revelations, three different views which God has given of his character, which, taken together, constitute the total divine representation. It remains, therefore, simply to ask, Is this view _a true one_? Is there any foundation for it in Scripture, in reason, and in Christian consciousness, the three sources of our knowledge of the truth?

§ 4. The Trinity of Manifestations founded in the Truth of Things.

We repeat, that this view is an Orthodox view of the Trinity, according to the teaching of the greatest fathers of the Church. If we suppose that the Deity has made, and is evermore making, three distinct and independent revelations of himself,—each revelation giving a different view of the divine Being, each revelation showing God to man under a different aspect,—then each of these is a personal manifestation. Each reveals God as a Person. If we see God, for example, in nature, we see him not merely as a power, a supreme cause, but also a living Person, who creates evermore out of a fulness of divine wisdom and love. God in nature is, then, a Person. Again: if God reveals himself in Christ, it is not as abstract truth or as doctrinal statement. But we see God himself, the personal God, the Father and Friend, the redeeming grace, the God who loved us before the foundation of the world, approaching us in Christ to reconcile us and save us. It is a God who “so loved the world” that we see in Christ, therefore, a Person. And so the Spirit, which speaks in the human conscience and human heart, is not a mere influence, or rapture, or movement, but is one who communes with us; one who talks with us; one who comforts us; one who hears and answers us; therefore a Person.

If, then, there is no antecedent objection to this form of the Trinity as a threefold manifestation of the divine Being, we have only to ask, Is it _true_ as a matter of fact? Has such a threefold manifestation of God actually taken place? We reply, that it is so. According to Scripture, observation, and experience, we find such to be the fact. Scripture shows us God, the Father, as the source of all being, the fountain and end of all things; from whom all things have come, and to whom all things tend. As the Creator, he reveals himself in nature and providence (as the apostle Paul declares), “being understood by the things that are made,” and “not leaving himself without a witness.”

Supreme power, wisdom, and goodness are manifested in nature as unchanging law, as perfect order. But God is seen in Christ again as Redeemer, as meeting the exigencies arising from the freedom of the creature by what we call miracle; not contrary to nature, but different from nature, showing himself as the Friend and Helper of the soul. As the essence of the first revelation of God is the sight of his goodness, and wisdom, and power, displayed in law, so the essence of the second revelation is of the same essential Being displaying himself as love. In the first revelation, he is the universal Parent; in the second, he is the personal Friend. But there is a third revelation which God makes of himself,—within the soul as life. The same power, wisdom, and goodness which we see displayed externally in outward nature, we find manifested internally in the soul itself, as its natural and its spiritual life. That which is displayed outwardly as power is manifested within the soul as cause; that which is manifested outwardly as wisdom is revealed inwardly as reason; and that which is manifested outwardly as goodness is manifested inwardly as conscience, or the law of right.

§ 5. It is in Harmony with Scripture.

The Scriptures also speak of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. When they speak of the Father, they usually mean God as the Supreme Being. Matt. 11:25: “Jesus said, I thank thee, _O Father_, Lord of heaven and earth.” As omniscient: “Of that day knoweth no man, nor the angels, nor the Son, but _the Father_ only.” As omnipotent: “Abba, _Father_, all things are possible to thee.” As having life in himself, and as spirit: “They shall worship _the Father_ in spirit and in truth.” As the source of all power, life, and authority of the Son: “I came forth _of the Father_;” “_the Father_, which hath sent me;” “the works which _the Father_ hath given me to do.” The apostle Paul says, “To us there is but _one God, the Father_;” and calls him “the God of our Lord Jesus;” also “the one God _and Father_ of all, who is above all, and through all, and in us all.” The great order of the universe depends on him: “He has put the times and the seasons in his own power.” Christ will at last “deliver up the kingdom to God, _the Father_.” By Christ, “we have access in one spirit _to the Father_.” “All things were delivered” to Christ “of _his Father_,” whose will Christ always sought. Thus is _the Father_ spoken of in the New Testament as the Source from which all things have proceeded, and the End to whom all things tend.

_The Son_ (or Son of God) is spoken of in the New Testament as distinct from the Father, but intimately united with him. The Father gives power; the Son receives it. The Father gives light; the Son receives it. The Son does nothing but what he seeth the Father do. “The Father hath sent me,” he says, “and I live by the Father.” “I am not alone; but I, and the Father who sent me.” “The Son is in the Father, and the Father in him.” “No man cometh to the Father but by” him. He shows the Father to the world. The Father is glorified in the Son. He is in the bosom of the Father. The Father sent him to be the Saviour of the world. “He that hath the Son hath life;” “And in him is everlasting life.”

_The Holy Spirit_, which came after Jesus left the world (also called the Holy Ghost and the Spirit of God), is an inward revelation of God and of Christ. It teaches all things, comforts, convinces. It is a spirit of life, lifts one above the flesh, makes one feel that he is a Son of God, communicates a variety of gifts, produces unity in the Church, sanctifies, sheds the love of God into the heart, and renews the soul. The New Testament speaks of joy in the Holy Ghost, power of the Holy Ghost, and communion of the Holy Ghost.

According to the New Testament, the Father would seem to be the Source of all things, the Creator, the Fountain of being and of life. The Son is spoken of as the manifestation of that Being in Jesus Christ; and the Holy Ghost is spoken of as a spiritual influence, proceeding from the Father and the Son, dwelling in the hearts of believers, as the source of their life,—the idea of God seen in causation, in reason, and in conscience, as making the very life of the soul itself.

There are these three revelations of God, and we know of no others. They are distinct from each other in form, but the same in essence. They are not merely three names for the same thing; but they are real personal manifestations of God, real subsistences, since he is personally present in all of them. This view avoids all heresies, since it neither “divides the substance” nor “confounds the persons.” And these are really the two heresies, which are the most common and the most to be avoided. We think it can be easily shown that these are the great practical dangers to be avoided. To “divide the substance” is so to separate the revelations of God as to make them contradict or oppose each other: to “confound the persons” is not to recognize each as an independent source of truth to the soul.

§ 6. Practical value of the Trinity, when rightly understood.

There is, therefore, an essential truth hidden in the idea of the Trinity. While the Church doctrine, in every form which it has hitherto taken, has failed to satisfy the human intellect, the Christian heart has clung to the substance contained in them all. Let us endeavor to see what is the practical value of this doctrine, for the sake of which its errors of statement have been pardoned. What does it say to the Christian consciousness?

The Trinity, truly apprehended, teaches, by its doctrine of Tri-personality, that God is _immanent_ in nature, in Christ, and in the soul. It teaches that God is not _outside_ of the world, making it as an artisan makes a machine; nor _outside_ of Christ, sending him, and giving to him miraculous powers; nor outside of the soul, touching it _ab extra_ from time to time with unnatural influences, revolutionizing and overturning it; but that he is personally present in each and all. So that, when we study the mysteries and laws of nature, we are drawing near to God himself, and looking into his face. When we see Christ, we see God, who is in Christ; and when we look into the solemn intuitions of our soul, the monitions of conscience, and the influences which draw our heart to goodness, we are meeting and communing with God.

Moreover, the Trinity, truly apprehended, teaches, by its doctrine of _One Substance_ (the Homoousion), that these three revelations, though distinct, are essentially at one; that nature cannot contradict revelation; that revelation cannot contradict nature; and that the intuitions of the soul cannot be in conflict with either. Hence it teaches that the Naturalist need not fear revelation; nor the Christian believer, natural Theism. Since it is one and the same God who dwells in nature, in Christ, and in the soul, all his revelations must be in harmony with each other. To suppose otherwise is to “divide the substance” of the Trinity.

And again: the Trinity, rightly understood, asserts the distinctness of these three personal revelations. It is the same God who speaks in each; but he says something new each time. He reveals a new form of his being. He shows us, not the same order and aspect of truth in each manifestation, but wholly different aspects.

And yet again: as the doctrine teaches that the Son is begotten of the Father, and the Spirit proceeds from the Father and Son, it thereby shows how the revelation in nature prepares for the revelation in Christ, and both for the revelation in the soul.

The error of “dividing the substance” is perhaps the most common. The man who sees God in nature, sees him only there: therefore God loses to him that personal character which seems especially to be seen through Christ; for God, as a person, comes to us most in Christ, and then is recognized also in nature and the soul as a personal being. So, without Christ, natural religion is cold: it wants love; it wants life. But, on the other hand, the Christian believer who avoids seeing God in nature, and who finds him only in his Bible, loses the sense of law or order, of harmonious growth, and becomes literal, dogmatic, and narrow. And so, too, the mystic, believing only in God’s revelation through the soul, and not going to nature or to Christ, becomes withdrawn from life, and has a morbid and ghastly religion, and, having no test by which to judge his inward revelations, may become the prey of all fantasies and all evil spirits, lying spirits, foul spirits, and cruel spirits.

Such errors come from “dividing the substance;” and they are only too common. So that, when the true doctrine of Trinity in Unity is apprehended, the most beneficial results may be expected to flow into the life of the Church. No longer believed as a dead formula, no longer held in the letter which killeth, no longer accepted outwardly as a dogma or authority, but seen, felt, and realized in the daily activity of the intellect and heart, the whole Church will recover its lost union, sects will disappear, and the old feud between science and religion forever cease. Science will become religious, and religion scientific. Science, no longer cold and dead, but filled through and through with the life of God, will reach its hand to Christianity. Piety, no longer an outlaw from nature, no longer exiled from life into churches and monasteries, will inform and animate all parts of human daily action. Christianity, no longer narrow, Jewish, bigoted, formal, but animated by the great liberty of a common life, will march onward to conquer all forms of error and evil in the omnipotence of universal and harmonious truth.

Natural religion, Christianity, and spiritual piety, being thus harmonized, nature will be more warm, Christ more human, and the divine influences in the soul more uniform and constant. Nature will be full of God, with a sense of his presence penetrating it everywhere. Christianity will become more natural, and all its great facts assume the proportion of laws, universal as the universe itself. Divine influences will cease to be spasmodic and irregular, and become calm, serene, and pure, an indwelling life of God in the soul.

A simple Unity, as held by the Jews and Mohammedans, and by some Christian Unitarians, may be a bald Unity and an empty Unity. Then it shows us one God, but God withdrawn from nature, from Christ, from the soul; not immanent in any, but outside of them. It leaves nature godless; leaves Christ _merely_ human; leaves the soul a machine to be moved by an external impulse, not an inward inspiration.(86)

We conclude, finally, that no doctrine of Orthodoxy is so false in its form, and so true in its substance, as this. There is none so untenable as dogma, but none so indispensable as experience and life. The Trinity, truly received, would harmonize science, faith, and vital piety. The Trinity, as it now stands in the belief of Christendom, at once confuses the mind, and leaves it empty. It feeds us with chaff, with empty phrases and forms, with no real inflowing convictions. It seems to lie like a vessel on the shore, of no use where it is, yet difficult to remove and get afloat; but when the tide rises, and the vessel floats, it will be able to bear to and fro the knowledge of mankind, and unite various convictions in living harmony. It is there for something. It is providentially allowed to remain in the creeds of the Church for something. It has in itself the seed of a grand future; and, though utterly false and empty as it is taught and defended, it is kept by the deeper instinct of the Christian consciousness, like the Christ in his tomb, waiting for the resurrection.

APPENDIX. CRITICAL NOTICES.

In this Appendix we shall add a brief critical examination of certain recent works on points connected with our previous subjects. These criticisms will complete the discussion in these various directions, so far as space will allow here. The largest part of what follows has been printed already, either in the “Christian Examiner,” or in the “Monthly Journal of the American Unitarian Association.”

§ 1. On the Defence of Nescience in Theology, by Herbert Spencer and Henry L. Mansel.

Mr. Herbert Spencer, in his book called “First Principles,” lays down the doctrine of theological nescience, as the final result of religious inquiry. In his chapter on “Ultimate Religious Ideas” he argues thus: The religious problem is, Whence comes the universe? In answer to this question only three statements are possible. It is self-existent. It was self-created. It was created by external agency. Now, none of these, says Spencer, is tenable. For, (1.) Self-existence means simply an existence without a beginning, and it is not possible to conceive of this. The conception of infinite past time is an impossibility. (2.) Self-creation is Pantheism. We can conceive, somewhat, of self-evolution, but not of a potential universe passing into an actual one. (3.) The theistic hypothesis is equally inconceivable. For this is to suppose the world made as a workman makes a piece of furniture. We can conceive of this last, because the workman has the material given; he only adds form to the substance. To produce matter out of nothing is the real difficulty. No simile enables us to conceive of this production of matter out of nothing. Again, says Spencer, space is something, the non-existence of which is inconceivable; hence the creation of space is inconceivable. And lastly, says Spencer, if God created the universe, the question returns, Whence came God? The same three answers recur. God was self-existent, or he was self-created, or he was created _ab extra_. The last theory is useless. For it leads to an endless series of potential existences. So the theist returns to self-existence; which, however, says Spencer, is as inconceivable as a self-existent universe, involving the inconceivable idea of unlimited duration.

Nevertheless, continues Spencer, we are compelled to regard phenomena as effects of some cause. We must believe in a cause of that cause, till we reach a _first cause_. The First Cause must be infinite and absolute. He then follows Mansel in showing the contradiction between the two ideas.

But total negation is not the result,—only nescience. Atheism, Pantheism, and Theism agree in one belief, namely, that of a problem to be solved. An unknown God is the highest result of theology and of philosophy. “If religion and science are to be reconciled, the basis of the reconciliation must be their deepest, widest, and most certain of all facts—that the power which the universe manifests is utterly inscrutable.”

Thus Mr. Spencer proposes to take back human thought eighteen centuries, and ignoring the conquests of Christian faith in civilization, theology, and morals, carries us to Athens, in the time of Paul, to worship at the altar of an unknown God. He makes a solitude in the soul, and calls it peace. He makes peace between religion and science, by commanding the first to surrender at discretion to the other. Science knows nothing of God; therefore theology must know nothing of God. But not so. Let each impart to the other that which it possesses, and which the other lacks. Let science enlarge theology with the idea of law, and theology inform science with the idea of a living God.

It is not difficult to detect the fallacies in this argument of Spencer for religious nescience. His notion of conception is that of a purely sensible image. He assumes that we have no knowledge but sensible knowledge, and then easily infers that we do not know God. We can conceive, he says, of a rock on which we are standing, but not of the whole earth. No great magnitudes, he declares, can be conceived. The conception of infinite time is, therefore, an impossibility.

But it is clear to any one, not bound hand and foot by the assumptions of sensationalism, that it is just as easy to conceive of the whole globe of earth, as of the piece of it which we see. We cannot have _a visual image_ of the whole earth, indeed, but the mental conception of the globe is as distinct as that of the stone we throw from our hand. And so far from the conception of infinite duration being an impossibility, not to conceive of time and space as infinite is the impossibility. It is impossible to imagine or conceive of the beginning of time, or the commencement of space.

Looking at his trilemma concerning the universe, namely, that it was either, (1.) Self-existent, (2.) Self-created, or, (3.) Created by an external power, we say,—

1. The real objection to a self-existent universe, is not that we cannot conceive of existence without beginning. Nothing is easier than to conceive of an everlasting, unchanging universe, without beginning or end. It is not existence, but change, that suggests cause. Phenomena, events, require us to believe in some power which produces them. Now, the events which take place in the universe suggest an intelligent, absolute, and central cause, that is, a cause combining supreme wisdom, power, and goodness. A self-existent universe is not inconceivable, but it is incredible.

2. Self-creation, he objects, is Pantheism. But this is no reason for denying it, since Pantheism may, for all we see at this stage of the argument, be the true explanation of the universe. The real objection to the hypothesis of a self-created universe (or of a self-created God), is that it involves the contradiction of something which exists and which does not exist at the same moment; at the moment of self-creation, the universe must exist in order to create, but must be non-existent in order to be created. A self-created universe, then, is not incredible because it involves Pantheism, but because it involves a contradiction.

3. He objects to the Theistic hypothesis, that we cannot conceive of the production of matter (more strictly, of substance) out of nothing. He adds that no simile can enable us to imagine it.

But I can produce, out of nothing, something visible, tangible, and audible. There is no motion and no sound. I move my arm by the power of will, and I produce both sound and motion. The motion of a body in space is a material phenomenon; for whatever is perceived by the senses is material. We do then constantly perceive material phenomena created out of nothing, by human will.

His argument against the Theist, that space could not have been created by God, since its non-existence is inconceivable, is much more plausible. But suppose we grant that space, supposed to be a real existence, was not created in time. Does it follow from that, that it does not proceed from God? Not being an event in time, it does not require a cause; but being conceived of as a reality, it may have eternally proceeded from the divine will, and so not be independent of the Creator.

And as regards his trilemma concerning Deity, that also fails in the failure of his thesis that eternal duration is inconceivable. His argument against the self-existent Deity, only rests on that assumption which we have shown to be untenable.

But Mr. Spencer, who is not a theologian, is at this point reënforced by Mr. Mansel, on whose former work, “The Limits of Religious Thought,” we proceed to offer some criticism. This also is an argument for nescience in theology, in the presumed interests of revelation. Mr. Martineau has ably shown the weakness and the dangerous tendency of this whole argument of Mansel, in an article to which we earnestly refer our readers.

The work of Mr. Mansel is a desperate attempt to save Orthodox doctrines from the objections of reason, not by replying to those objections and pointing out their fallacy, but by showing that similar objections can be brought against all religious belief. For example, when reason objects to the Trinity, that it is a contradiction, Mr. Mansel does not attempt to show that it is _not_ a contradiction, but argues that our belief in God is another contradiction of the same kind. His inference therefore is, that as we believe in God, notwithstanding the contradiction, we ought to believe in the Trinity also, notwithstanding the contradiction. If we believe one, we may believe both.

But this is a dangerous argument; since it is evident that one might reply, that there remains another alternative; which is, to believe _neither_. If Mr. Mansel succeeds in convincing his readers, the result may be a belief in the Trinity, or it may be a disbelief in God altogether; one of two things—either a return to Orthodoxy, or a departure from all religion. Either they will renounce reason in order to retain religion, or they will renounce religion in order to retain reason.

At the very best, also, the help which this argument offers us is to be paid for somewhat dearly. It proposes to save Orthodoxy by giving up the use of reason in religion. Mr. Mansel would say, “by giving up the unlimited use of reason;” but, as we shall presently see, this comes very much to the same thing at last.

What, then, is the nature of Mr. Mansel’s argument? It is an argument founded upon Sir William Hamilton’s philosophy of the Unconditioned. Now, this has been generally considered the weak side of Hamilton’s system. According to him, the unconditioned is inconceivable: in other words, of the Absolute and Infinite we have no conception at all. But this denies to man the power of conceiving of God, and so leads directly to Atheism. This charge has already been brought against Hamilton’s philosophy, in various quarters; for example, in the “North British Review ” for May, 1835. But we will not here attempt any examination of Hamilton’s theory, but confine ourselves to Mr. Mansel.

The argument of Mansel is this (p. 75): “To conceive the Deity as he is, we must conceive him as First Cause, as Absolute, and as Infinite. By the First Cause is meant that which produces all things, and is itself produced of none; by the Absolute is meant that which exists in and by itself, having no necessary relation to any other being; by the Infinite is meant that which is free from all possible limitation.”

Having thus defined the Deity as the First Cause, the Absolute, and the Infinite, Mansel goes on to show that these ideas are mutually contradictory and destructive. A First Cause necessarily supposes effects, and therefore cannot be absolute: nor can the Infinite be a person; for personality is a limitation. By a course of such arguments as these, Mansel endeavors to show that the reason is as incapable of conceiving God as it is of conceiving the Trinity, the Atonement, or any other Orthodox doctrine; and since we do not renounce our belief in God because of these contradictions, neither ought we, because of similar contradictions, to renounce our belief in the Trinity.

Such is the substance of Mansel’s statement, though the arguments by which it is proved are varied with great ingenuity and to great extent. This course of thought is by no means original, either with Mr. Mansel or Sir William Hamilton. A far greater thinker than either of them (Immanuel Kant) had long before shown the logical contradictions of the understanding in what he called the Antinomies of the pure reason. But the important question is, If the reason contradicts itself thus in its conception of Deity, how are we to obtain a ground for our belief in God? Mansel answers, “Through revelation; that is, through the direct declarations of Scripture.” This he calls faith. We are to believe in a personal God on the ground of a Bible confirmed by miracles.

This result is so strange, that it may well seem incredible. Yet we cannot think that we have misrepresented the tendency of the argument; though, of course, we have given no ideas of the acuteness and flexibility of the reasoning, the extent of the knowledge, and mastery of logic, in this work. That such a position should be taken by a religious man, in the supposed interest of Christianity, is sufficiently strange; for it seems to us equally untenable in its grounds, unfounded in its statements, empty of insight, destructive in its results. We will add, very briefly, a few of the criticisms which occur to us.

The first thing which strikes us in the argument is, that everywhere it deals with words rather than with things. The whole object of the discussion concerns the meaning of terms, and it deals throughout with the relation of words to other words. It is an acute philological argument. We feel ourselves to be arguing about forms, and not about substances. Now, such arguments may confuse, but they cannot convince. We do not know, perhaps, what to say in reply; but we remain unsatisfied. One not used to logic may listen to an argument which shall conclusively prove that white is black; that nothing is greater than something; that a man who jumps from the top of the house can never reach the ground; but, though the thing is proved, he is not convinced. So, when Mr. Mansel proves to us that we cannot conceive of a Being who is at the same time Infinite and Personal, we are unable, perhaps, to reply to the argument; but we know it to be false, since we actually have the two conceptions in our mind.

We _do_ conceive of the Deity as an infinite personality. Of what use to tell us that we _cannot_ have an idea, when we know that we _do_ have it?

Mansel tells us that we cannot think the idea of the Infinite and Absolute. He says (p. 110), “The Absolute and the Infinite are thus, like the Inconceivable and Imperceptible, names indicating, not an object of thought or of consciousness at all, but the mere absence of the conditions under which consciousness is possible.”

But, then, they are only words, with no meaning attached; and, if so, how can we argue about them at all? All argument must cease when we come to an unmeaning phrase; therefore the existence of Mr. Mansel’s argument proves the falsehood of his assertion. Since he argues about the Infinite, it is evident that he has the idea of the Infinite in his mind.

Mr. Mansel agrees in principle wholly with the Atheists; for the Atheists do not say that God does not exist, or that God cannot exist, but that we cannot know that he exists. So says Mr. Holyoake, a leading modern Atheist. This is what Mansel also asserts, only he goes farther than they, contending that the very idea of God is impossible to the human reason. It is true that he believes in God on grounds of revelation, which the Atheists do not; but he agrees with them in setting aside all natural and reasonable knowledge of Deity.

But how is it possible to obtain an idea of God from revelation, if we are before destitute of such an idea? When Paul preached to the Athenians, he addressed them as having already a true, though an imperfect, idea of God. “Whom, therefore, ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you.” But, if they had not already an idea of God, how could he have given them such an idea? Suppose that he works a miracle, and says, “This miracle proves that God has sent me to teach you.” But, by the supposition, they know nothing about God; consequently, they have nothing by which to test the truth of a revelation professing to come from him. Neither miracles, nor the nature of the truth taught, nor the character of the teacher, avail anything as evidence of a revelation from a Being of whom we know nothing. Without a previous knowledge of God, only immediate revelation is possible.

Mr. Mansel, therefore, is one who, without a foundation, builds a house on the sand. He attempts to erect faith in God after taking away the foundation of reason. The apostles built revealed religion upon natural religion, revealed theology upon natural theology, according to the rule, “That is not first which is spiritual, but that which is natural; afterward that which is spiritual.” Christ said, “Ye believe in God: believe also in me.” Mr. Mansel reverses all this, and makes Christ say, “Ye believe in me: believe also in God.”

But, even if it were possible to ascend to belief in God through belief in Christ, we must ask, Is not belief thought? If the mind cannot _think_ the Infinite, how can it believe the Infinite? Must we not apprehend a proposition before we can believe it? Does not the conception of a thing logically precede the belief of it? If it is impossible to apprehend the Absolute, if this is only an empty name, how is it possible to believe in the Absolute on grounds of revelation, or on any other grounds? A miracle cannot communicate to the mind an idea which is beyond its power of conception.

Mr. Mansel declares that our religious knowledge is _regulative_, but not _speculative_.

He lays great stress on this distinction: by which he means that we have ideas of the Deity sufficient to guide our practice, but not to satisfy our intellect; which tell us, not what God is in himself, but how he _wills_ that we should think of him. According to this view, all revelation is overturned, just as all natural religion has been previously overturned. Revelation does not reveal God on this theory. We have no knowledge of God in the gospel, any more than we had in nature. Instead of knowledge, we have only law. But this seems to despoil Christianity of its vital force. Christ says, “This is life eternal, to _know_ thee, the only true God.” But Mr. Mansel tells us that such knowledge of God is impossible. Therefore, instead of the gospel, he gives us the law; for it is certain that his _regulative_ truths are simply moral precepts, addressed to the will, not to the intellect; capable of being obeyed, but not of being understood.

The radical error of Mansel seems to be this,—that his mind works only in the logical region belonging to the understanding, and is ignorant of those higher truths which are beheld by the reason. He has tried to find God by logical processes, and, of course, has failed. He therefore concludes that God cannot be known by the intellect. He has fully demonstrated that God cannot be comprehended by the logical understanding; and in this he has done a good work. But he has not shown that God cannot be known by the intuitive reason. The understanding comprehends: the reason apprehends. The understanding perceives the form: reason takes holds of the substance. The understanding sees how things are related to each other: the reason sees how things are in themselves. The understanding cannot, therefore, see the infinite and absolute; cannot apprehend substance or cause; knows nothing of the eternal. But the reason is as certain of cause as of effect; knows eternity as really as it knows time; it is as sure of the existence of spirit as it is of matter; and sees the infinite to be as real as the finite. Therefore, though we cannot comprehend God by logic, we can apprehend him by reason. We can be as sure of his being as we are of our own, and we are not obliged to explain away all those profound scriptures which teach us that the object and end of our being is to know God.

Since, therefore, Mr. Mansel’s argument, with all its acuteness, learning, and honesty, tends directly to Atheism; since, by overturning the foundation of Christianity, it overturns Christianity itself; since it substitutes mere moral laws in place of the vital forces of the gospel,—it is no wonder that its positions have been rejected with much unanimity by the most eminent Orthodox scholars. Its defence of Orthodoxy costs too much. Leading thinkers of very different schools—for example, Mr. Brownson, the Roman Catholic, in his “Quarterly Review;” Professor Hickok, the Presbyterian, in the “Bibliotheca Sacra;” and Mr. Maurice, of the Church of England, in an able pamphlet—have opposed with great force the arguments and conclusions of this volume. It is true that some Orthodox divines consider that Mr. Mansel has _demonstrated_ that the human consciousness is unequal to the speculative conception of a Being at once absolute, infinite, and personal, and seem gladly to have the aid of this book in defending the Trinity. But the more distinguished and experienced thinkers mentioned above are cautious of accepting the help of so dangerous an ally.

§ 2. On the Defence of Verbal Inspiration by Gaussen.

Following the declaration of the apostle Paul, that “the letter killeth,” we have, in the text of this volume, set aside all the theories of the Bible which assume its absolute and literal infallibility. But within a few years, a work in defence of this doctrine has been published abroad, by an excellent man, M. Gaussen, of Geneva, and translated and republished in America by Rev. Dr. Kirk, of Boston. Such a work, coming from such sources, deserves some examination. We shall, therefore, show the course of argument followed in this book, and the reasons which lead us to consider its conclusions unsound, and its reasoning inadequate.

Inspiration, as defined by Gaussen, is “that inexplicable power which the divine Spirit formerly exercised over the authors of the Holy Scriptures, to guide them even in the employment of the words they were to use, and to preserve them from all error, as well as from every omission.

“We aim,” says he, “to establish, by the word of God, that the Scriptures are from God—that all the Scriptures are from God—and that every part of the Scripture is from God.”

Let us consider the arguments in support of this kind of inspiration, and the objections to them.

_Argument I. Plenary Inspiration is necessary, that we may know with certainty what we ought to believe._

Great stress is laid upon this supposed _necessity_, both by Gaussen and Kirk.

“The book so written,” say they, “is the Word of God, and binds the conscience of the world; and nothing else does so bind it, even though it were the writings of Paul and Peter.

“With the Infidel, whether he be Christian in name or otherwise, the sharp sword of a perfect inspiration will be found, at last, indispensable. If the ground is conceded to him that there is a single passage in the Bible that is not divine, then we are disarmed; for he will be sure to apply this privilege to the very passages which most fully oppose his pride, passion, and error. How is the conscience of a wicked race to be bound down by a chain, one link of which is weak?”

_Reply to Argument I._—It is no way to prove a theory _true_ to assume its _necessity_. The only legitimate proof of a theory is by an induction of facts. This method of beginning by a supposed necessity, this looking first at consequences, has always been fruitful of false and empty theories. The great advance in modern science has come from substituting the inductive for the ideological method. Find what the facts say, and the consequences will take care of themselves. An argument from consequences is usually only an appeal to prejudices.

Again: This argument is fatal to the arguments drawn from the Scriptures themselves. In arguing from the Scripture to prove that every passage is divine, we have, of course, no right to assume that every passage is divine, for that is the very thing to be proved. Then the texts which we quote to prove our position may themselves not be divine, and if we grant that, “we are disarmed.” For, according to this argument, nothing can be proved conclusively from Scripture except we believe in plenary inspiration—then plenary inspiration itself cannot be proved from Scripture. But Gaussen admits that this doctrine can be proved “only by the Scriptures;” therefore (according to this argument) it cannot be proved at all.

If, therefore, the doctrine of plenary inspiration is necessary “to bind the conscience of the world,” it is a doctrine incapable of proof. If, on the other hand, it can be proved, it is then clearly not necessary “to bind the conscience of the world.”

But again. This theory of plenary inspiration does _not_ bind the consciences of men. If men are naturally disposed (as Messrs. Gaussen and Kirk maintain) to deny and disbelieve the doctrines and statements of the Bible, they have ample opportunity of doing so, notwithstanding their belief in this theory. For, after admitting that the words of Scripture, just as they stand, are perfectly true and given by God, the question comes, What do they mean? For instance, I wish, we will suppose, to deny the doctrine of the Deity of Christ. Now, you quote to me the text Rom. 9:5. “Of whom, as concerning the flesh, Christ came, who is over all, God, blessed forever,”—which is the strongest text in the Bible in support of that doctrine. Now, though I believe in the doctrine of plenary inspiration, I am not obliged to accept this passage as proof of the Deity of Christ. For I can, 1. Assert that the verse is an interpolation; 2. Assert that it is wrongly pointed; 3. Assert that it is mistranslated; 4. Assert that Christ is called God in an inferior sense, as God over the Church. And, as a matter of fact, these are the arguments always used, even by those who deny the doctrine of a plenary inspiration. They seldom or never accuse the writer of a mistake, but always rely on a supposed mistranslation, or misinterpretation, in order to avoid the force of a passage. Hence, also, we find believers in this doctrine of plenary inspiration, differing in opinion on a thousand matters, and with no probability of ever coming to an agreement.

_Argument II. Several Passages of the New Testament plainly teach the Doctrine of the Plenary Inspiration of the Bible._

The passages quoted by Gaussen, and mainly relied upon, are 2 Tim. 3:16. “All Scripture is given by inspiration,” &c.; 2 Peter 1:27, “Holy men of God spake as they were moved,” &c. Besides these, he refers to many passages in the Old and New Testaments, but his chief stress is laid on these.

_Reply to Argument II._—It is well known that both these passages refer only to the Old Testament Scriptures. It is well known that the first may be translated so as to read, “All Scripture, given by inspiration, is profitable,” &c. But it is reply enough to both these passages, to say, that neither of them indicates what kind of inspiration is intended. They assert an inspiration, which we also maintain. But they do _not_ assert a verbal inspiration, nor one which makes the Scriptures _infallible_, but simply one which makes them _profitable_.

The stress laid on the passage 2 Tim. 3:16, “All Scripture,” &c., is itself an argument against the theory of plenary inspiration. The most which can be made of this text, by _any_ punctuation or translation, is, that all the Scripture is written by inspired men. What was the degree or kind of their inspiration, is not in the least indicated. It might have been verbal, it might have been the inspiration of suggestion, or of superintendence, or the general inspiration of all Christians.

Gaussen’s only argument on this point is, “that it is the _writing_ which is said to be inspired, and writing must be in words; hence the inspiration must be verbal.” To this we must reply, that inspired writing can only mean what is written by inspired men. The writing itself cannot be inspired. This argument is too flimsy to be dwelt upon.

But further still. There is another argument which lies against every attempt to prove plenary inspiration out of the Scripture. _Every such attempt is necessarily reasoning in a circle._ Gaussen and Kirk have labored earnestly to reply to this argument, but in vain. The answer they make is, “We are not reasoning with Infidels, but with Christians. We address men who respect the Scriptures, and who admit their truth. The Scriptures are inspired, we affirm, because, being authentic and true, they declare themselves inspired; and the Scriptures are plenarily inspired, because, being inspired, they say that they are so totally, and without any exception.”

But we answer Messrs. Gaussen and Kirk thus: “You are indeed reasoning with Christians, not with Deists; but you are reasoning with Christians who do not believe that _every passage_ of Scripture is infallibly inspired. To prove your doctrine from any particular passages or verbal expressions, you must prove that those particular passages and expressions are not themselves errors. You yourselves assert that this cannot be done, except we believe these passages to be infallibly inspired. Therefore you must assume infallible inspiration in order to prove infallible inspiration. In other words, you beg the question instead of arguing it.”

In this vicious circle the advocates of a verbal inspiration of infallibility are necessarily imprisoned whenever they attempt to argue from the words of Scripture. They contend that one must believe their theory in order to be sure that any passage is absolutely true, and then they quote passages to prove their theory, as if they were absolutely true.

_Argument III. The theory of plenary inspiration is simple, precise, intelligible, and easy to be applied._

We admit this to be true. It has this merit in common with the opposite theory of no inspiration. Both are simple, precise, and very easy of application. But simplicity is not always a sign of truth. The facts of nature and life are more apt to be complex than simple. Theories distinguished by their simplicity most commonly ignore or omit a part of the facts. Simplistic theories are generally one-sided and partial. Materialism, Atheism, Idealism, Fatalism, are all very simple theories, and explain all difficulties with a marvellous rapidity. This makes them, at first, attractive to the intellect, which always loves clear and distinct views; but afterwards, when it is seen that they obtain clearness by means of shallowness they are found unsatisfactory.

_Argument IV. The quotations from the Old Testament, by Jesus and his apostles, show that they regarded its language as infallibly inspired._

This argument, upon which great stress is laid, both by Prof. Gaussen and Dr. Kirk, though plausible at first sight, becomes wholly untenable on examination.

Thus, in the temptation of Jesus, in his reply to the tempter, he says, “Thou shalt not live by bread alone;” the whole force of the argument depending on the single word _alone_.

Replying to the Sadducees, who denied the resurrection, he says, “Have ye not read that God says, I _am_ the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob? God is not the God of the dead, but of the living.” Then the whole stress of the argument rests on the use of the verb in the present tense, “_I am_.”

Arguing with the Pharisees, “How did David, by the Spirit, call him _Lord_, saying, The Lord said to my Lord,” &c.? Here the argument depends on the use of the single word _Lord_.

Many more instances could be produced of the same kind; and Gaussen contends, that when Jesus and his apostles thus rest their argument on the force of a single word of the Old Testament, they must have believed that the very words were given by inspiration. For otherwise the writers might not have chosen the right word to express their thought in each particular case. And unless the Jews had also believed in the verbal inspiration of their Scriptures, they would have replied that these particular words might have been errors.

_Reply to this Argument._—Plausible as this argument may seem, it turns out to be wholly empty and worthless. Whenever any writer is admitted to be an authority, then his words become authoritative, and arguments are necessarily based on single words and expressions. In all such cases, we assume that he chose the best words by which to convey his thought, and yet we do not ascribe to him any inspiration or infallibility.

Thus, go into our courts of law, and you will hear the language of the United States constitution, of the acts of legislature, of previous decisions of the courts, argued from, word by word. Counsel argue by the hour upon the force and weight of single words in the authorities. Judges in their charges instruct the jury to determine the life and death of the criminal according to the letter of the law. And this they do necessarily, according to the rule, “_Cum recedit a litera, judex transit in legislatorem_.” But will any one maintain that the counsel and court believe that the legislature was infallibly inspired to choose the very language which would convey their meaning?

In this very argument for plenary inspiration, Gaussen and his associates rest their argument on the single word “all,” in the text, “All Scripture is given by inspiration,” &c. Yet, say they, we are not assuming that this text is plenarily inspired, for that, we admit, would be begging the question. If, then, Mr. Gaussen can argue from the force of the single word _all_, without assuming the doctrine of plenary inspiration, why could not Jesus and his apostles argue from single words, without assuming the doctrine of plenary inspiration?

There is, however, a passage in Paul (Gal. 3:16), in which the apostle quotes a text from the Old Testament, and lays the whole stress of his argument on two letters. “He says not, ‘And to seeds’ σπέρμασιν, as of many, but as of one, ‘And to thy seed’ σπερματι.” According to Gaussen’s argument, Paul must have believed in the inspiration of the letters. But Gaussen is careful not to adduce this instance, which seems at first so much in his favor. For, in fact, both in Hebrew and Greek, as in English, “seed” is a collective noun, and does mean _many_ in the singular. The argument of Paul, therefore, falls through; and it is evident that he is no example to be imitated here, in laying stress on one or two letters. Most modern interpreters admit that he made a mistake; and so, among the ancients, did Jerome, who nevertheless, said the argument “was good enough for the foolish Galatians.”

Having thus replied, very briefly, but we believe sufficiently, to the main arguments in support of this theory, we say, in conclusion, that it cannot be true, for the following reasons, which we simply state, and do not now attempt to unfold.

1. The New Testament writers nowhere claim to be infallibly inspired to write. If they had been infallibly inspired to write the Gospels and Epistles, they certainly ought to have announced this important fact. Instead of which Luke gives as his reason for writing, not that God inspired him to write, but that “inasmuch as others have taken in hand” to write, it seemed good to him also to do the same, and that for the benefit of Theophilus. John and Paul assert the truth of what they say, but not on account of their being inspired to write, but because they are disciples and apostles.

2. The differences in the accounts of the same transactions show that their inspiration was not verbal.

These differences appear on every page of any Harmony of the New Testament. They are numerous but unimportant; they go to prove the truth of the narrative, and give probability to the main Gospel statements. But they utterly disprove the theory of plenary inspiration.

3. Paul declares that some things which he says are “of the Lord,” other things “of himself;” that in regard to some things he was inspired, in regard to others, not.

4. Every writer in the New Testament has a style of his own, and there is no appearance of his being merely an amanuensis.

5. While the New Testament writers lay no claim to any such inspiration as this theory assumes, they do claim for themselves and for all other Christians another kind of inspiration, which is sufficient for all the facts, and which gives them ample authority over our faith and life, and makes them independent sources of Christian truth.

This view we have already sufficiently considered in our chapter on inspiration.

§ 3. Defence of the Doctrine that Sin is a Nature, by Professor Shedd.

In the “Christian Review” for 1852 appeared an article of great power, written by a gentleman who has since become eminent as a thinker and writer—Professor W. G. T. Shedd. The title of the article was calculated to attract attention, as a bold attempt to defend an extreme position of Calvinism—“Sin a Nature, and that Nature Guilt.” The article was so rational and clear that we consider it as being even now the best statement extant of this thorough-going Calvinism, and therefore devote a few pages here to its examination.(87)

After some introductory remarks, which it is not necessary to notice, the writer lays down his first position, that sin is a nature. His statement is, that we all sin necessarily and continually in consequence of _our nature_, i.e., the character born with us, original and innate.

The proofs of this position are, 1. The language of St. Paul (Eph. 2:3), “We were by nature the children of wrath, even as others.” 2. That we are compelled by the laws of our mind to refer volitions to a nature, as qualities to a substance. We cannot stop in the outward act of sin, but by a mental instinct look inward to the particular volition from which the sin came. Nor can the mind stop with this particular volition. There is a steady and uniform state of character, which particular volitions cannot explain. The instinct of reason causes us to look back for one common principle and source, which shall give unity to the subject; and, having attained a view both central and simple, it is satisfied. As our mind compels us to refer all properties to a substance in which they inhere, so it compels us to refer all similar volitions to a simple nature. When we see exercises of the soul, we as instinctively refer them to a nature in that soul, as we refer the properties of a body to the substance of that body. 3. Christian experience proves that sin is a nature. The Christian, especially as his experience deepens, is troubled, not so much by his separate sinful actions and volitions, as by the sinful nature which they indicate, and out of which they spring. We are compelled to believe, as we look inward, that there is a principle of evil within us, below those separate transgressions of which we are conscious. There is a diseased condition of the soul, which these transgressions, indicate. There are secret faults from which we pray to be cleansed. 4. The history of Christian doctrine shows that the Church has in all ages believed in a sinful nature, as distinguished from conscious transgressions.

These are the proofs of the first position, that sin is a nature. We have stated them concisely, but with sufficient distinctness and completeness. Let us now examine their validity.

The first argument is the text in Ephesians, “We were by nature children of wrath,” ἦμεν τέκνα φύσει ὀργῆς. The word φύσις, the writer contends, “always denotes something original and innate, in contradistinction to something acquired by practice or habit.” This text, we know, is the proof-text of original sin, and is considered by many commentators as teaching that man’s nature is wholly corrupt. But plainly this is going too far. Granting the full meaning claimed for the word φύσις, the text only asserts that there is something in man’s nature which exposes him to the divine displeasure by being the source of sin. It does not assert the corruption of the whole nature, nor preclude the supposition that we are born with tendencies to good, no less than to evil. That we are so, the writer is bound by his own statement to admit; for if this Greek word “always denotes something original and innate,” it denotes this in Rom. 2:14,(88) which declares that the Gentiles “do by nature the things contained in the law.” According to this passage in Romans, if there be such a thing as natural depravity, it is not total; and if there be such a thing as total depravity, it is not natural. Those who wish to maintain both doctrines can only do it by admitting two different kinds of sinfulness in man, one of which is natural, but not total; the other total, but not natural—a distinction which we esteem a sound one. According to this passage in Rom 2:14, we must understand φύσις as referring to the good side of man’s nature, and the same word in Eph. 2:3 as referring to the corrupt side of man’s moral nature. The first refers to the “law of the mind;” the second, to the other “law in the members” (Rom. 7:23). But there is another passage (Gal. 2:15), which asserts that the Jews by nature are not sinners, like the heathen. Now, as we can hardly suppose that the original instincts and innate tendencies of the Jewish child were radically good from birth, and essentially different from those of the heathen, and as such a supposition would contradict the whole argument of Paul in Rom. ch. 2, it is evident that φύσις in Gal. 2:15 does not denote something original and innate. The meaning of this verse probably is, that the Jew from birth up, and by the mere fact of being born a Jew, came under the influences of a religious education, which preserved him from many forms of heathen depravity. The word, therefore, means in that passage, not a Jew by nature, but a Jew by birth; and, if so, we are at liberty, if we choose, to ascribe the same meaning to the word in Ephesians, and to understand the text to teach that we were by birth placed under circumstances which tended necessarily to deprave the character.

This passage, therefore, quoted by the writer, does not teach entire depravity by nature, but a partial depravity, either found in the hereditary tendencies and instincts, or acquired by means of the evil circumstances surrounding the child from his birth.

The second argument of the writer is, that the laws of mind compel us to refer sinful volitions to a sinful nature, as they compel us to refer qualities to a substance.

We admit that, where we see uniform and constant habits of action, we are compelled to refer these to a permanent character or state of being. If a man once in his life becomes intoxicated, we do not infer any habit of intemperance, or any vicious tendency; but if he is habitually intemperate, we are compelled, as the writer justly asserts, to look beneath the separate single actions for one common principle and source. But in assuming that this source is a nature brought with us into the world, the writer seems to us to jump to a conclusion. It may be an acquired character, not an original nature. It may be an induced state of disease either of body or mind, a depravity which has commenced this side of childhood. We know that there are acquired habits both of mind and of body; otherwise, not only would it be impossible for a man to grow worse, but it would also be impossible for him to grow better, and there would be an end to all improvement and progress. Such an acquired character introduces unity into the subject of investigation, as completely as does an original nature, and therefore satisfies all the wants of the mind.

A precisely similar answer may be made to the writer’s third argument, drawn from Christian experience. He is perfectly right, we think, in saying that the Christian is troubled, not merely, nor chiefly, by the recollection of single acts and volitions of evil, but in the evidence which they seem to give of a sinful state of mind and heart. He is right in considering any theory of moral evil shallow and inadequate which only takes into account sinful actions and sinful volitions. What earnest man, who has seriously set about correcting a fault, or improving his character, but has been obliged to say, “To will is present with me; but how to perform that which I will, I find not”? Every earnest effort shows us more plainly how deep the roots of evil run below the surface. We find a _law_ in the members warring against the law of the mind, and bringing us into captivity to the law of sin. This is the description which Paul gives of it. It is a _law_; that is, something regular, constant, permanent—a steady stress, a bias towards evil. The apostle, however, differs from the writer in placing this law, not in the will, but in the members; and also in stating that there is another law,—that of the mind,—which has a tendency towards good. In the unregenerate we understand him to teach that the law of evil is the stronger, and holds the man, the personal will, captive. In the regenerate, the reverse is the case. Nor does Paul teach that this sinful tendency is guilt. It is not “O _guilty_ man that I am!” but “O _wretched_ man that I am!”

Now, while we agree with the writer in rejecting as superficial and inadequate any theory of evil, whether emanating from our own denomination or from any other, which does not recognize this evil state or tendency lying below the volitions, we differ from him in that we think it not always a nature, but a character. He has not proved, nor begun to prove, that this dark ground of evil in man is always innate or original. It may or may not be; but the argument from Christian experience shows nothing of the sort.

The writer’s fourth and remaining argument is, that the Church has, in all ages, believed in a sinful nature, as distinguished from conscious transgressions. If this were so, we admit that it should have weight in the inquiry; but we deny the fact so far, at least, as the sinful nature is concerned.(89)

The writer proceeds thus: “Assuming, then, that the fact of a sinful nature has been established, we pass to the second statement of St. Paul, that man is by nature a child of wrath. We pass from his statement that sin, in its ultimate form, is a nature, to his statement that this nature is guilt.” If we have done justice to the writer’s arguments,—and it has been our object to state them fairly, though briefly,—we submit that the fact of a sinful nature has not been established by them. He has shown that in man there is a tendency to evil running below the conscious, distinct volitions—that there is a permanent character, good or evil, which manifests itself, and becomes first apparent to ourselves, or to others, in these separate, spiritual exercises or actions. But that this stress either to good or evil, this law either of the mind or members, is original and inborn, is yet to be proved. Let us then consider the second point, namely, whether this character or nature, whichever it may be, is also guilt.

As the writer’s first argument to prove a sinful nature was drawn from the Greek word φύσις, so his first argument to prove that nature guilt is derived from the Greek word ὀργή in the same passage. “The apostle teaches,” he says, “that sinful man is a child of wrath. Now, none but a guilty being can be the object of the righteous and holy displeasure of God.” But this word, translated _wrath_, is confessedly used in other senses besides that of the divine anger or displeasure. It may mean the sufferings or punishments which come as the result of sin, in which sense it is used in Matt. 3:7, “Who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” and other places. This word is used in the passage just quoted for some future evil; in John 3:36, for a present evil—“The wrath of God abides on him;” and in 1 Thess. 2:16, for a past evil—“For the wrath is come [lit. _has_ come] on them to the uttermost.” It may mean the subjective feeling of guilt; the sense that we deserve the divine displeasure, which is removed by the assurance of forgiveness. It may mean the state of alienation from God, which results by a law of the conscience from this sense of guilt—an alienation removed by the divine act by which God reconciles the sinner to himself. And the radical meaning, from which these secondary meanings flow, may be the essential antagonism existing between the holy nature of God and all evil. But whatever it means, it cannot intend anything like human anger. In the divine wrath there is neither selfishness nor passion; and it must consist with an infinite love towards its object. The word, therefore, as used in Eph. 2:3, does not convey the idea of guilt, _a vi terminis_. It may mean as well, that this sinful tendency in man, manifesting itself in sinful actions, produces a state of estrangement or alienation between man and God. How far this is a guilty alienation, and how far it is evil and sorrowful, is not to be learned from the term itself.

But the main proof of the writer in support of his second position is found in the assertion, that this sinful tendency in man, out of which evil acts continually flow, is not a tendency of the physical nature, but of the will itself. He distinguishes the will proper from the mere faculty of single choices, and considers it to be a deeper power lying at the very centre of the soul, which determines the whole man with reference to some great and unlimited end of living. It is, in fact, the man himself—the person. For man, he asserts, is not essentially intellect or feeling; but is essentially and at bottom a will, a self-determining creature. “His other faculties of knowing and feeling are grafted into this stock and root; and hence he is responsible from centre to circumference.” He then affirms the will, thus defined, to be the responsible and guilty author of the sinful nature; being nothing more nor less than its constant and total determination to self as the ultimate end of living. This voluntary power, which is the man himself, has turned away from God and directed itself to self as an ultimate end; and this state of the will is the sinful nature of man.

We have no disposition to quarrel with the psychology of this statement. We admit man to be essentially will, in the sense here described. He is essentially activity; an activity limited externally, by special organization and circumstances,—limited internally, by quantity of force, and knowledge.

Nor, again, do we deny that in the unregenerate state the will of man is directed to self rather than to God as its ultimate end; and that this is guilt, and in a certain sense total guilt. No man can serve two masters. If he is obedient to one, he is necessarily disobedient to the other. This disobedience may, or may not, appear in act; but it is there in state. He whose ultimate end is self-gratification is always ready to sacrifice the will of God to his own. He whose ultimate end is God is always ready to sacrifice his own will. In this sense, the unregenerate man may be said to be wholly sinful; and he who is born of God, not to commit sin.

Thus much we grant; and the admission is a large one. But we must now object to the writer, that this is but one side of the question; and that he has omitted to see the other side. The sources of evil are not so simple as he seems to suppose; for man is a very complex being, and the world in which he lives is a very complex world. We therefore would inquire,—

What proof have we that this guilty direction of the will is a _nature_, in the sense claimed, i.e., something innate or original? Why may not the will have been turned gradually in this direction as we grow up, by enticements of pleasure; and why might not the will, in like manner, by means of wise culture, have been gradually directed to God?

Again: what proof have we that we are so wholly _unconscious_ of this direction of the will, as our author contends? That a great many of the acts of the will are unconscious acts, like the separate movements of the finger in a skilful pianist, or lifting of the feet in walking, we admit; and we are not responsible for these separate acts, but for the _preceding choice_, by means of which we determine to play the tune, or walk the mile. In like manner, the direction of the soul to self rather than to God may be moral evil; but is not moral guilt, until we become conscious of it, in a greater or less degree. Then, when partially or wholly awakened to the evil direction of the soul, if we allow ourselves to neglect this discovery, to turn away from the fact and forget it, on that conscious act presses the whole burden of guilt, and not on the unconscious volitions which may result from it. We say, therefore, in opposition to the writer, that though there may be depravity without consciousness of the depraved state, there cannot be guilt without consciousness of the evil choice, or, as the apostle says, “Sin is not imputed where there is no law.”

Again: we totally dissent from the statement that this deep-lying will in man is unable to obey the commands, “Turn ye, turn ye from your evil way, for why will ye die?”—“Repent and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out,”—“Make you a new heart and a new spirit,”—“Choose you this day whom you will serve,”—“Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and be saved.” The writer says, that “such a power as this, including so much, and running so deep, which is a determination of the whole soul, cannot, from the very nature of the case, be such a facile and easily managed power as that by which we resolve to do some particular thing in every-day life.” True: not _so_ easily managed; but can it not be managed at all? It may require _more_ self-examination to understand what the direction of the will is, and more concentration of thought and will, and more leaning on God’s help; but _with_ all these are we able or not able to turn to God? He says, the great main tendency of the will to self and sin as an ultimate end, though having a free and criminal origin, “is not to be reversed so easily.” True, again; but why not _less_ easily? The writer speaks of the sinful will as a “total determination of itself to self;” and asks “how the power that is to reverse all this process can possibly come out of the will thus shut up, and entirely swallowed in the process. How is the process to destroy itself?” But what! Has man become _a process_? He is essentially will, but is this will blind mechanism? Has it not, according to our author’s own theory, intelligence, conscience, affection, rooted into it? The moment that the writer begins to speak of the will, as unable to change its direction, he is compelled to conceive of it materially and mechanically, and not as the moral, responsible soul. He says, “The human will becomes a current that becomes unmanageable simply because of its own momentum.” And therefore, again, he is obliged to conceive of the whole voluntary power as lost, and lost before man was born; and he reduces all our real freedom to the original act of the will previous to birth, which took place when we were present in Adam’s soul, and committed the first transgression with him.

This is plainly the denial of all human freedom since the fall of Adam. We bring into the world, according to the writer, a will wholly and inevitably bent to evil. We have no consciousness of this tendency, and if we were conscious of it we have no power to change it; but we yet are responsible for it, and guilty because of it, inasmuch as we began this state ourselves when all our souls were mystically present in the soul of Adam. Of this theory, we merely say now, that, if it be true, man is not _now_ guilty of any sin which he commits in his mortal life; for he is not now a free being. He is only responsible for the sin which he freely committed in Adam. He is no more responsible when we suppose his sin to proceed from his will, than when we suppose it to proceed from a depraved sensuous nature, or from involuntary ignorance, for he is no more free in the one case than in the other. He may be an infinitely depraved and infinitely miserable being, but he can in no true sense be called a _guilty_ being. Again we say, if this theory be true, it is an awful theory, and one which we cannot possibly reconcile with the justice or goodness, and still less with the fatherly character, of God. That God should so have constituted human nature that all the millions of the human race should have had this fatal opportunity of destroying themselves utterly, by one simultaneous act, in Adam, is, to say the least, an _awful_ theory to propound concerning our heavenly Father. We might put Christ’s argument to any man not hardened by theological study, as it seems to us, with irresistible force. “What man is there among _you_, BEING A FATHER,” who could do anything of this sort? But we know too well that all such appeals fall harmless from the sevenfold shield of a systematized theology.

Therefore we will only say further, concerning this theory, that, as being _apparently_ in direct conflict with the divine attributes as taught in the New Testament; as making man a mere process deprived of real freedom; as proving man not guilty for any sin committed in this life; and as thereby deadening the sense of responsibility, and showing that we cannot possibly obey the command, “Repent and turn to God,”—this theory of a sin committed in Adam _ought to have the amplest proof_ before we believe it. We admit that it may be true, though opposed to all our ideas of God, man, and duty. But being thus opposed, it ought to be sustained by the most unanswerable arguments. If Jesus and his apostles have told us so plainly, we will believe it if we can. How is it, then? Not a word on the subject in the four Gospels. Not a text from the lips of Jesus which can be pretended to lay down any such theory. He does not even mention the name of Adam once in the Gospels, nor allude to him, except when speaking of marriage. This theory rests, not on anything contained in the Gospels, book of Acts, or Epistles of Peter, James, or John, but on two texts in two Epistles of Paul (Rom. 5:14; 1 Cor. 15:22). In the latter passage Paul says not a word of Adam’s sin, but only of his death,—the whole chapter treating, not of sin, but of death and the resurrection. This passage, therefore, can hardly be considered a plain statement of the theory. The other, in Romans, is confessedly so far from plain, that it is difficult to make it agree with any theory; but the most evident meaning, to one who has no theory to support, is, that sin began with Adam, and the consequences of sin, which are moral and physical evil, began also with him; and as he thus set in motion a series of evil tendencies which we find in our organization, and which Paul elsewhere calls the law of the members, and a series of evil circumstances which we find around us in the world, both of which are the occasion of sin, we may trace back to him the commencement of human disobedience. If the passage teaches anything more than this, it certainly does not teach it plainly or explicitly.

§ 4. Defence of Everlasting Punishment, by Dr. Nehemiah Adams and Dr. J. P. Thompson.

Two defences of this dreadful doctrine have appeared within a few years—one by Rev. Nehemiah Adams, D. D. (chiefly known by his many and determined pleas for slavery), and the other by Dr. Thompson of New York.

We will first examine Dr. Adams’s tract on “The Reasonableness of Eternal Future Punishment.”

We have these three objections to it:—

I. It, throughout, denies the sovereignty of God.

II. It is, throughout, a system of naturalism.

III. It, throughout, ignores the central truth of the gospel.

It is our business to substantiate these assertions by sufficient proof.

1. The view taken in his tract, of God, cannot be true, because it conflicts with his supreme and sovereign deity.

Of course, this is to dethrone God. God, if not sovereign, is not God. Any view which disturbs, however remotely, the supremacy of the Deity, must be a relapse towards Pagan idolatry. We charge this tendency on the whole tenor of this tract. We affirm that it seriously impairs that confidence and strength which can only come from reliance on Omnipotence, and remands us to the terrors and narrowness of Polytheism: not consciously, of course, or intentionally, but by the logic of its ideas and the tendency of its argument.

According to Dr. Adams’s view of the world, it is a scene of conflict between God and the Devil. The prize contended for is the souls of men. God wishes to save them: the Devil wishes to damn them. By immense efforts,—by the unparalleled sacrifice of himself on the cross,—God succeeds in saving a portion of this race, whom the Devil had plunged into fearful and desperate sin. As for the rest, He can do nothing with them, but must go away and leave them; escaping with the saved to some other region, where the sin and misery of the rest may be lost sight of.

The only divine supremacy which Dr. Adams admits is that of force. God is, on the whole, _stronger_ than the Devil; so that He can prevent him from carrying his ravages beyond certain limits. God can “hem in and overrule” the power of sin; but he cannot conquer it. He has no complete power over the heart and will of men to become supreme there; but he has power over their conduct, and can restrain that within certain limits.

God’s sovereignty, according to Dr. Adams, is only like that of a human government, and that, again, a weak one. A human government is strong when it is able to dispense with standing armies, with an omnipresent police, with prisons and dungeons: it is weak when its authority is only maintained by these. In the first case, it rests on the love of the people; in the other case, only on force.

Now, according to Dr. Adam’s tract, God’s sovereignty is essentially one of force. He is not sovereign by overcoming sin through his own holiness, but only by restraining its outbreaks by externally applied force. So far from conquering sin, he is represented as giving up all hope of conquering it. He has tried everything in his power, and has failed. He can do nothing more. Dr. Adams speaks of God’s “having expended upon us all which the gospel of his grace includes,” and of “the failure of that which is the brightness of his glory.” Now, Dr. Adams says, “What God will probably do is, to go away and leave us,” God says, according to the idea of this tract, “I will place all of you, who sin, in a world by yourselves, from which I and my friends will forever withdraw.” In substance, He gives up, and acknowledges himself defeated. He is beaten by sin, which is more powerful than his gospel. Sin compels the Deity to compromise; to take some souls, and to leave others; to divide the universe,—love reigning in one part of it, hatred and wickedness in another.

2. The second objection to the doctrine of everlasting punishment, as taught in these works, is, that it is a system of pure materialism. It is naturalism, as opposed to supernaturalism. All its arguments from Scripture interpret Scripture according to its letter, and not according to its spirit. While much stress is laid on the word “eternal,” no real eternity is believed in, or even conceived of. The fundamental law of religious knowledge—namely, that a man must be born of the Spirit in order to see the kingdom of God, and that spiritual things must be spiritually discerned—is wholly lost sight of. The spiritual world, with its bliss and its woe, is supposed to be a continuation of the natural world, instead of being its exact opposite. The same conditions of space and time are supposed to prevail there as here. Hell is regarded by Dr. Adams as a large place, located in some remote part of the universe, where the sufferings and blasphemies of damned souls and devils will not disturb the sentimental happiness of himself and his pious companions. Eternity he regards as an enormous and quite inconceivable accumulation of time, instead of being the very negation of time. An unlimited quantity of days, months, and years, is his notion of eternity.

In like manner, all the arguments by which the school to which he belongs maintains this doctrine, are drawn from relations which exist in this world. Great use is made of the analogies of human government. It is said that it would not be safe for the Deity to forgive sins on the simple condition of repentance, without an atonement, because it would not be safe for human governments to do so. The government of God is made wholly similar to the imperfect and ignorant governments of men. When we say that God, as described in the New Testament, is not a Being to inflict everlasting suffering hereafter, we are told that he inflicts suffering here; as though there were no essential distinction between the finite and the infinite, the temporal and the eternal. When we argue that God would not suspend the eternal destiny of a soul upon the conduct and the determination of a brief earthly life, we have instances given us of great risks to which we are exposed, and great evils which we may incur, in this world; as though there were no difference between a partial loss and total destruction. When we say that the justice of God will not permit him to punish everlastingly those who, like the heathen, have never known Christ, we have instances given of those who have ignorantly burned themselves or have fallen down precipices. In all such examples, these reasoners overlook the essential distinction between the finite and the infinite. They forget that all finite evil can be made the means of a greater ultimate good, but that infinite evil cannot.

It is a curious fact, that those who are most Orthodox fall most easily into a very hard and dry naturalism. God is to them a king sitting on a throne in some far heaven outside of the world, not a spirit pervading it and sustaining it. He governs men from without by offering them rewards and threatening them with punishments, not by inward inspirations and influence. He teaches them from without by an outward Christ, an outward Bible, outward preachers, pulpits, creeds, Sabbaths, and churches; not by Christ formed within us, not by epistles and gospels written on the fleshly tables of the heart. The day of judgment is a particular time, when God shall sit on his throne, and all appear before him; not the perpetual spiritual sentence pronounced in each human soul by the divine law. And so heaven is a place where there is to be some singing of psalms, and such amusements as are here considered proper in Orthodox families; hell, another place, where souls are shut up, to suffer from physical fire, or at least from some external infliction. The doctrine taught by the Saviour in the first twelve verses of his first sermon, that the humble, the generous, the merciful, are already blessed, and have heaven now, does not appear to be at all comprehended. That heaven and hell are in this world already; that truth, love, and use are its essence, whilst falsehood and selfishness are the essence of hell,—these, though rudimental facts of Christianity, are commonly considered mere mysticism. But those who do not see all this have not seen the kingdom of heaven, and must be born again, into a new world of spiritual ideas, in order to see it.

3. The third and principal argument against the doctrine of everlasting punishment is, that it is _inconsistent with the divine love to his creatures_. It is impossible for God to manifest love to a human being by inflicting everlasting torment upon him. It cannot do him good, because, according to this theory, the period of probation is past, and he has no power now to repent. As far, therefore, as the man himself is concerned, it is gratuitous suffering—torment inflicted without any purpose. It cannot be said that God has any love for the soul which he is treating in this way. He has cast it off. To that soul, nevermore, throughout the ages of an everlasting existence, shall God appear as a friend, but always as an enemy.

We sometimes hear of a father who disinherits a child in consequence of some act of disobedience. In one of the most touching tragedies in the English language, a father refuses to forgive his daughter who had married contrary to his wishes. He leaves her to starve, and refuses to forgive her or to see her. No one approves of this conduct in the parent. But every Orthodox man, who believes in everlasting punishment, attributes an infinitely greater cruelty to God; infinitely greater, because the obstinacy of the human parent endures only during a short life, but the severity of God endures forever.

The force of this objection is such, that Dr. Adams has felt obliged to add to his tract on “Everlasting Punishment” another tract upon the text, “God is love,” endeavoring to show a consistency between the two. But he does this by substituting something else in the place of the last. It is curious enough, that a master in Israel should have written a tract upon the “love” of God, and should have substituted “benevolence” instead of it. In other words, instead of that fatherly love to every individual which is the essential fact revealed in the gospel, he gives us a general good-will towards the human race. Such a general benevolence he finds not inconsistent with the doctrine of everlasting punishment; for, if love be only general good-will, then, the greatest good of the greatest number being the object, there is nothing to complain of if a few are sacrificed for the sake of the rest. It is not, to be sure, easy to see how those who have safely reached glory, and are in no danger of relapse, can be benefited by the knowledge that their old neighbors and friends are in hell; but there may be some benefit which is not apparent. By quietly substituting, therefore, the idea of benevolence in the place of love, the difficulty may be evaded, which otherwise is unanswerable.

But what an entire confusion of ideas is this, which substitutes a general benevolence for a personal affection, good-will towards the race for love to the individual! It is, in fact, abolishing the idea of Father, and substituting that of Ruler. The kind ruler, actuated by benevolence, desires the good of all his subjects; but he does not love them as individuals. But the father loves the child with a wholly different feeling. The tie is personal, not general. It is one of mutual knowledge and mutual dependence. We cannot love one whom we do not know; but we can exercise benevolence towards him very easily. Benevolence depends wholly on the character of the benevolent person; but love is drawn out by the object loved. I do not love my child because I am benevolent, but because it is my child. The infant draws forth a host of feelings, before unknown, in the mother’s heart. She does not love her infant because she is a benevolent woman, but because the infant excites her love. A man is benevolent towards the sufferers in Kansas, whom he has never seen; but he does not love them. He loves his wife, but is not benevolent towards her. Benevolence and love, therefore, are not only essentially different in their nature, origin, and manifestations, but so different as often to exclude each other.

Now, it has always been seen that God is benevolent. This is taught by natural religion. We see it in all the arrangements of divine Providence. The infinitely varied provisions for the good of his creatures, the myriad adaptations by which their wants are met, are ample evidence of this. But Christianity comes to teach us something else,—to teach us that God is our Father, and so to see in him benevolence swallowed up in love. God does not love his children because he is benevolent, but because they are his children. He does not love them for the sake of others, but for their own sake. His love does not depend upon their being good, pious, or Christian; it depends only upon the fact that they are his children. This is the doctrine of the prodigal son; in which wonderful parable it is more distinctly stated than in any other part of the New Testament. The doctrine there taught, that there is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety and nine just persons who need no repentance, is somewhat different from that other doctrine, that the redeemed in heaven look down with joy upon the sufferings of the damned below. This parable teaches that God has a personal, fatherly love towards the impenitent sinner who has gone away from him into a far country. The father’s joy when his child returned is the evidence of the love which had continued in his heart while his child was absent from him.

This being the character ascribed by Christ to the Deity, we assert that it is wholly inconsistent with the doctrine of everlasting punishment as taught in the pamphlet before us. There are, it is true, many widely different doctrines to which the term “eternal punishment” is applied. Some of these may not be inconsistent with the love of God. Let us give some instances.

Some, by eternal punishment, intend the punishments of eternity, as distinguished from those of time. They mean spiritual punishment, as distinguished from temporal punishment. They mean the sufferings which have their root in the sight of eternal things, as distinguished from those which originate in the sense of earthly things—sufferings which come to us from within, and not from without. “Eternal,” in this sense, describes the quality, and not the quantity, of the suffering; and in this sense eternal punishment is not inconsistent with the divine love. But this is not the sense which Dr. Adams intends.

Some mean by endless punishment, that, as long as men continue to sin, they will continue to suffer; that sin is eternally suffering. But this is not the sense which Dr. Adams intends.

And some say that they believe in eternal punishment; meaning thereby, that the consequences of sin are everlasting,—either positively, by leaving forever some remorseful sorrow in the mind, or negatively, by leaving men forever lower down in the scale of excellence and happiness than they would otherwise be. But this is not what Dr. Adams means by it.

And some men believe in eternal punishment in the sense of a dark background to the universe, which will always continue, a shadow as permanent as light,—necessary for the full perfection and beauty of an infinite divine creation. Into this shadow man may forever plunge; out of it he may forever emerge: and it will always continue so to be. But this is not the view taken by Dr. Adams.

The view which Dr. Adams takes is of endless punishment inflicted as a consequence of temporal sin committed in this life. There will be no opportunity to repent hereafter, no pardon offered. There is nothing done by God, after this life, to save men. The heathen who have never heard of Christ, unconverted infants, those who have been brought up in the midst of evil, and heretics who do not accept the theory of Calvin concerning Christianity, are to be tormented forever in the other world. This view he thinks not only scriptural, but reasonable. It corresponds nearly to the human penalty of imprisonment for life; except that, instead of a few years of earthly life, it is a never-ending existence; and, instead of simple imprisonment, it is imprisonment with torture added.

We are accustomed to complain of the “horrors of the Inquisition;” but wherein do they differ in principle from the doctrine of Dr. Adams? The inquisitors tortured men for heresy; Dr. Adams thinks that God will do the same. The power of the Inquisition, however, was limited, on the principle, _Dolor, si dura, brevis; si longa, levis_. But not so with everlasting punishment.

That this view is absolutely inconsistent with the fatherly love of God to every soul, is apparent. It would be impossible for a father to torment his child forever in consequence of temporal sin. No earthly parent could be found cruel enough to inflict a million years of torture upon his child for each sin committed by him; but a million years for every sinful action would be but a trifling penalty compared with everlasting punishment.

As it is absolutely impossible to defend this doctrine on the ground of the fatherly love of God, it is defended by Dr. Adams and his companions on other grounds, namely, of the divine benevolence, and the duty of God as a governor. The argument is this: If God was dethroned, all sorts of evil would ensue. But sin is always endeavoring to dethrone God; therefore it is his duty to use the most strenuous measures to prevent this result. These strenuous measures consist in the highest rewards offered to obedience, and the severest punishments threatened to disobedience. But no punishment is so severe as everlasting punishment; therefore the benevolence of God requires him to threaten it; and, if threatened, his truth requires him to inflict it. This is the sort of argument by which the doctrine is defended. Its fallacies are manifest. It is based on a sort of Manicheism, making evil a hostile power in the universe, which threatens the supremacy of God. It makes God in danger of outward overthrow in consequence of the external assaults of sin. But we have always supposed that the essence of sin was the state of the heart, and the evil of sin to consist in the estrangement of the heart from God, and not in any danger that Omnipotence would be dethroned by it. Besides, though the fear of future punishment may restrain the outward act, it cannot change the heart, and cannot, therefore, remove the real evil of sin. Here is the fallacy of this whole argument.

Another weak point in the argument for everlasting punishment regards its proof, that all opportunity for repentance is confined to this life. Only two or three texts are quoted in proof of this very important position. One is taken from the book of Ecclesiastes, and declares, that, “in the place where the tree falleth, there it shall be;” of which there is no evidence that it has any relation to the subject; or, if it has, that it carries the least authority with it. Another passage asserts that “there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave whither thou goest.” But this would prove too much; for it would prove that there was no knowledge in the other life. Another passage, quoted by Dr. Adams from the book of Revelation, says, “Let him that is unjust be unjust still;” from which it is inferred that men have no opportunity hereafter for repentance. But, as this is said to those who are in _this_ world waiting for the coming of Christ, it also proves too much, if taken literally; since it would declare that men cannot repent even in this world. Such is the extremely slight foundation on which this essential part of the doctrine is made to rest. Never was there so weak a support for so important a position.

The arguments from reason, by which our writer supports this part of his doctrine, are all taken from the plane of the lowest naturalism. He thinks it reasonable that the Almighty should suspend the everlasting destiny of his creatures upon what they do or omit doing in this life, because men, in earthly transactions, adopt a similar principle. A railroad train is advertised to start at a certain hour. If we are there a minute too late, we lose our opportunity of going on an important journey. We think this reasonable; why, then, argues Dr. Adams, should we think it unreasonable for God to make us lose our chance throughout eternity if we do not take the opportunity during life? God has given us full notice, he says, of his intention; we have been duly notified; and, after due notice, it is thought reasonable, in earthly business transactions, for people to run their chance. A man may commit a crime in a minute, for which he is sentenced to imprisonment for life or to capital punishment. We think this reasonable; why should we think it unreasonable that God should send men to an everlasting hell in consequence of sin committed in a short lifetime?

All these arguments are fallacious, because they apply to the infinite, conditions belonging wholly to the finite; because they transfer to Him, whose ways are not as our ways, and whose thoughts are not as our thoughts, the poor necessities of human ignorance and weakness. To those who reason thus, the Almighty may say, “Thou thoughtest me altogether such a one as thou thyself.” It is because man is weak and ignorant that he is obliged to live under these limitations. If we were able to do differently, we should not make such severe consequences flow from human ignorance and weakness. We do such things, not because we think them absolutely just and good, but because we cannot help it. To argue that, because it is reasonable for human weakness to do something which it cannot help, it is reasonable for divine Omnipotence to do an infinitely more injurious thing of the same kind, is to fly in the face of all logic and reason.

Men make a rule, that, if I am not at the station when the train starts, I shall lose my trip for that day. Yes; but suppose the rule should be, that, if I arrived a moment too late, I should be crucified. Suppose a father should give full notice to his children, that, whenever any of them mispronounced a word, he should be burned alive. But it is easier, according to Dr. Adams’s theory, for a child never to make a mistake, than not to commit the sins for which it is to be punished with everlasting torment. “What man among you is there, being a father,” who would cause his children to come into the world exposed to such fearful risks; who would allow them to be born with constitutions tending inevitably to sin, the inevitable consequence of which, after a few short years of life, is never-ending torment, the only possible escape from which is salvation through a Being of whom the majority never heard, according to a system which the majority cannot believe, and by a process, which, except by a special help, none of them are able to accomplish? We should say, that we would not have children under these conditions. It were better that such children had never been born. If we then, being evil, would not subject our children to such risk, how much less would our Father in heaven do anything of the kind!

The reply to such arguments, by those whom Thomas Burnet calls the “unmerciful doctors” and “ferocious theologians,” is always the same. Because finite evil exists, and is not inconsistent with the divine plan, therefore infinite evil may also exist, and not be inconsistent with the divine plan. Because one may suffer for a time in this world, therefore he may be compelled to suffer forever in the other world. It is assumed that there is no essential distinction between time and eternity, between finite and infinite evil. Here is the immense fallacy of the argument. The difference is simply this: All finite _suffering_, however great, is as nothing when compared with everlasting happiness afterwards; but all finite _happiness_, however great, is as nothing when compared with everlasting suffering afterwards. If we deny, therefore, the doctrine of everlasting suffering, evil virtually disappears from the universe; if we accept it, good virtually disappears, as far as the sufferers are concerned. If all evil is finite, the goodness of God can be fully justified; but, if to any one it is infinite, no such theodicy is possible.

This is the fatal objection to the doctrine of everlasting punishment. It clouds the face of the heavenly Father with impenetrable gloom. It takes away the best consolations of the gospel. When Jesus tells us to forgive our enemies, that we may be like our heavenly Father, who sends his blessings upon the evil and the good, this doctrine adds, that God’s character is thus forgiving only in this world; but that, in the other world, he will torment his enemies forever in hopeless suffering. When we seek consolation amid the griefs and separations of this world by looking to a better world, where all tears will be wiped away, we have presented to us instead this awful vision of unmitigated horror. Instead of finite evil being swallowed up into infinite good, it darkens down into infinite woe.

Dr. Adams quotes Thomas Burnet, Master of the Charter-house, as a striking instance of one, who, though he denied or doubted this doctrine, admitted, nevertheless, that the Scriptures were probably against him. He quotes him correctly as saying, “Human nature shrinks from the very name of eternal punishment; yet the Scriptures seem to hold the other side.” Though Dr. Adams gives the Latin, and refers to the page of the book, let us hope, for his own sake, that he quotes it at second-hand; which, as he twice misspells the name, is not unlikely; for Dr. Burnet, so far from admitting that the Scriptures are “probably against him,” concludes, after an examination of the leading passages, that they prove nothing certainly as to the eternal duration of future punishment. He quotes the passage in which the Jewish servant is said to become a slave _forever_,—meaning till the year of jubilee; in which circumcision is called an _everlasting covenant_,—meaning that it shall be abolished by the same divine authority; in which the land of Canaan was given for an _everlasting possession_ to Abraham and his seed, from which they have long since been expelled; &c. Dr. Burnet does, indeed, say that the Scriptures _seem_ to favor the doctrine he opposes; but he then goes on to show that such is not the case. He also “awakens antiquity,” and calls to his aid the merciful doctors of the early church (Justin Martyr, Jerome, the Gregories, &c.) to support his hope in a merely limited future suffering.

We will now consider the meaning of some of the texts usually adduced in support of this doctrine. Of these texts, there are some six or seven only upon which much stress is laid; and of these the principal ones are as follows:—

1. Matt. 18:8, “Having two eyes, two hands,” &c., “to be cast into hell fire,” or “into everlasting fire” (τὸ πῦρ τὸ αἰώνιον)—(τὴν γέεναν τοῦ πυρός).

2. Matt. 25:46, “These shall go away into everlasting (eternal) punishment, but the righteous into life eternal ”(κόλασιν αἰώνιον and ζωὴν αἰώνιον). The same adjective is used in both places here, in the Greek; but our translators have seen fit to render it “everlasting” in the first place, and “eternal” in the second. There is no authority for such a different translation. The word κόλασις, translated “punishment,” occurs in one other place in the New Testament: this is (1 John 4:18), “Perfect love casteth out fear, because fear hath torment.” In this last instance, it is evident that the idea of punishment is not found, but only that of suffering. In the LXX. (Ezek. 14:3, 4, 7) it is translated “stumbling-block,” and means, says Schleusner (Lexicon in LXX.), “all that is the source of misfortune or suffering.” Donnegan gives as its meaning, “the act of clipping or pruning; _generally_, restriction, restraint, reproof, check, chastisement; _lit. and met._, punishment.”

The true translation of the passage, then, is,—

“These shall go away into the sufferings or punishments of eternity; and the righteous, into the life of eternity.”

The simple, direct, and natural meaning, therefore, of this passage is, that, besides temporal joy and suffering, there are eternal joy and suffering: besides the joys and sufferings which have their root in time and in temporal things, there are joys and sufferings which have their root in eternity and in eternal things. In the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew, the sufferings of eternity are described as following directly upon judgment, and as being its natural consequence. The judgment on each soul consists, according to this passage, in showing it its real character. Both the good and the bad are represented as needing such a judgment as this. Until the judgment takes place, men are described as being ignorant of the true nature of their own past conduct. They do not know their own good or their own evil: they do not understand themselves as they really are. They have done good and bad actions, but have not understood the value of those actions. They have not seen, that in every deed of charity, in every act of humble benevolence, they were helping Christ and his cause. They have not understood, that, by every selfish and cruel deed, they were injuring their Master. But the judgment reveals all this to them, and lifts them immediately out of temporal joy or pain into eternal joy or pain. They rise out of temporal things into eternal things, and the new insight is to them a source of spiritual joy or spiritual suffering.

In some instances, if αἰώνιος were translated “everlasting” or “never-ending,” it would make such palpable nonsense, that our translators have been obliged to give it an entirely different rendering. Thus (2 Tim. 1:9; Tit. 1:2) we have the phrase πρὸ κρόνων αἰώνιον; which would be, literally, “before eternity,” or “before everlasting time began,” according to the common rendering. They have, therefore, translated it “before the world began.” In the same way (Matt. 24:3; 1 Cor. 10:11), they are obliged to change their usual rendering, or they would have to say, “So shall it be at the end of forever;” or, “The ends of eternity have arrived.”

Mark 9:43-50, it is said that the “worm does not die” in Gehenna, and “the fire is not quenched.” This, therefore, is thought to teach the doctrine of never-ending punishment hereafter; but this was a proverbial expression, taken from the book of Isaiah.

Chap. 66:24, the prophet says, that, in the times of the Messiah, all men shall come, and worship in the presence of Jehovah; and shall then go out, and look upon the dead bodies of the men who had transgressed against the Lord; “for their worm shall not die, neither shall their fire be quenched; and they shall be an abhorring unto all flesh.” Our Saviour, therefore, is not making an original doctrinal statement, but he is quoting from Isaiah. Now, the passage in Isaiah refers, not to punishment of the soul hereafter, but to the destruction of the bodies of transgressors in the valley of Hinnom. The fire and the worms in that valley were not everlasting in any strict sense. When Isaiah says, “Their worm shall not die, nor their fire be quenched,” he expresses merely the utter destruction which would fall upon them. The fire and the worms of the valley of Hinnom have long since disappeared; but, while the fire lasted, it was the emblem, to the Jews, of the destruction which was to fall upon those who resisted the will of Jehovah. But it is not to be supposed that the idea of eternity, which is not in the original image, should be added in the figure. The fire and the worms were to last in the valley of Hinnom as long as there were idolaters to be punished for their idolatry; and so the spiritual suffering consequent upon sin lasts as long as sin lasts. Sin is perpetual misery; conscience is a worm which never dies; bad passions are a fire which is never extinguished. This is the simple and natural meaning of this passage.

3. Matt. 26:24. In this passage, as it stands in our translation, Jesus says concerning Judas, “Woe to that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed! It were good for that man if he had never been born.” (Mark 14:21.) The argument is, that, if it were good for Judas not to have been born, it must be impossible that he should ever repent and be saved; because, if he should ever be saved, and his punishment should cease (though at ever so remote a period), it would be better for him to have been born than not to have been born; since there would remain an eternity of happiness to be enjoyed afterwards. And if this be true of Judas, it may be also true of others.

But, in reply to this argument, we say,—

1. The translation is doubtful. The literal translation is, “Woe to that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed! It had been good for him if that man had never been born.” This is the literal rendering of the Greek; and the apparent meaning seems to be, “that it had been good for the Son of man if Judas had not been born.” Jesus seems to say that it is a great woe to him, a great sorrow, to be betrayed by one of his own friends, by a member of his own household. It would have been good for Jesus, if this traitor, who was to wound his heart so deeply, had never existed.

2. But, retaining our present translation, the natural application of it is to this life. It means simply this: The earthly life of this man is an entire failure. His life is wholly thrown away. He had better never have been in the world, than to stand, as he will to all time, a monument of the basest treachery. The idea of the future life does not come it at all here.

On the whole, one must feel, in reading these books and tracts, that such writers are more to be pitied than to be blamed. Confined in the strait-jacket of an austere theology; steeped to the lips in Calvinism; working painfully all his life in sectarian harness; with an angry heaven over his head, and a ruined earth about his feet; his friends and neighbors dropping into hell by thousands every year; never having had any real sight of the blessed face of Jesus; having for them no hope full of immortality, but, instead thereof, a tenor full of damnation,—even a kindly nature and an affectionate heart must suffer, be dwarfed and crippled.

It is not an agreeable task to refute such errors; but believing them equally destructive, in their tendency, to piety and morality,—corrupting the Christian life at its centre, and weakening its chief source of power,—we feel it a duty not to be avoided. Advancing age does not make us conservative in regard to such doctrines. The longer we live, the more we see of their evil tendency. When young, we shrank from attacking them, fearing lest they might contain some truth beyond the range of our limited experience. But, having come to see wherein the essence of Christian truth lies in all varieties of pious experience, we know that this doctrine is an excrescence, weakening always the vital power of the gospel. It rests on custom, on cowardice, on the fear of change, not on any positive insight or substantial knowledge. But, as Tertullian declared of another doctrine defended by precedent, “Christ did not say, ‘I am the Custom,’ but, ‘I am the Truth.’ ”

The time will come in which the Christian Church will look back upon its past belief in this doctrine as it looks back now on its former universal belief in the duty of persecution, the primacy of the pope, or the atonement made by Christ to Satan. It will regard it with the horror with which it now regards its former universal conviction, that God was pleased when his children burned each other alive for difference of opinion. We now shudder when we hear of “AN ACT OF FAITH,” consisting in burning at the stake ten or twenty Jews and Protestants. Our children will shudder with a still more inward grief that we could make it _an act of faith_ to believe that GOD burns millions of his own children in unquenchable fire forever because they deny Calvin’s view of the atonement, or the Church definition of the Trinity, or because of any possible amount of sin committed in this world.

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We now proceed to add some remarks upon a recent work by Dr. Thompson of New York, a zealous and favorite disciple of the late Dr. Taylor of New Haven. This book, the title of which is, “Love and Penalty,” consists of nine lectures delivered in the Broadway Tabernacle.

With the contents of some of the chapters we have nothing to do. All the arguments for retribution, derived from the nature of God, the nature of man, the course of Providence, the demerit of sin, have for their object to prove what all Christians fully believe. Unitarians and Universalists, Theodore Parker and R. W. Emerson, teach retribution, present and future, with a force which leaves little need of additional arguments from Orthodoxy. They teach a perfect and inevitable retribution, proceeding both from the truth and goodness of God, by means of which every man reaps as he sows. Orthodoxy, they complain, teaches no such full and perfect retribution. All that part of this volume, therefore, which is intended to show the probability of retribution, is wasted, so far as any opposers are concerned. In this part of his book, Dr. Thompson fights as one who beats the air. He is very zealous to disprove that which no one asserts, to prove that which no one denies, and to show the folly of a position which no one assumes.

The confusion referred to runs through the whole book; and perhaps there is no better illustration than this volume presents of that logical fallacy which is called “the irrelevant conclusion.” This fallacy consists in proving one thing, and making men think you have proved another. Dr. Thompson’s hearers saw that he proved future retribution, and thought that he proved eternal punishment. We do not suppose that he intended to sophisticate them: the difficulty seems rather to be, that he has sophisticated himself. The _ignoratio elenchi_ is in his own mind. He thinks, because he sees penalty, that he has seen vengeance; that, because he has established retribution, he has demonstrated everlasting punishment.

A reasoner has, no doubt, a perfect right to try to prove two distinct and independent propositions; but he must keep them distinct and independent, and not pretend to be proving one when he is proving the other. He has also a perfect right, if he desires to establish one proposition, to prove another, as the first step towards it; but he has no right to assume or imply that he has made out one of his points, when he has only shown the probability of the other.

Now, our author (p. 19) declares that he has one object; viz., to show the truth of the doctrine of everlasting punishment. He says, “It will be the aim of this series of lectures to show that _the doctrine of the eternal punishment of the wicked is in entire harmony with the paternal character of God_.” He then proceeds to give the substance of his argument, under eight heads. Six of these only prove future retribution, and only two of them have any direct bearing upon the main question. Yet, through all of them, there runs a quiet assumption, that they are bearing directly on the main question. This is the radical sophism of the whole volume. We may see this more plainly by analyzing some of his chapters.

His first position is this, in Lecture I.: “Our own nature, which is appealed to as refusing to recognize the attribute of punitive justice in a God of love, in fact demands this attribute, as essential to the moral perfection of the Deity—an attribute without which he could not command the confidence and homage of his intelligent creatures.”

Before attempting to demonstrate any theorem, it is important to define its terms. An accurate definition at first of what we wish to prove would often make a long discussion unnecessary. What is meant by the “_attribute of punitive justice_”? Does it mean that God’s nature is such that he causes happiness to flow from goodness, and suffering from wickedness, in the constitution of the universe? If this is meant, Dr. Thompson will find no one to oppose him; for all this can take place in perfect accordance with divine love to the sinner himself. What he _needs_ is suffering: this is the way by which he is to be cured of that sin which is a greater evil than suffering. Or does the author mean, by “punitive justice,” some attribute of the divine nature which finds pleasure in punishing the sinner, without regard to any good which is to come from it, either to him or to any one else? Apparently, this last is what he means; for he goes on to quote from Pagan authorities and Pagan religions, to show that conscience in man requires that the wicked should be punished, without any regard to any good to result from it. But these authorities only show, that, in the one-sided action of man’s nature, the sense of justice acts independently of love. What Dr. Thompson has undertaken to show is, that it can act in God in harmony with love. In man, conscience produces hatred of sin, without regard to the good of the sinner; but the divine conscience acts in no such one-sided way. “Mercy and truth meet together; righteousness and peace kiss each other.” The law is vindicated and the sinner benefited at the same moment.

The atonement of Christ, objectively considered, consisted exactly in this, that he showed a perfect reconciliation, in his own life, of God’s hatred to sin, and love to the sinner. No one was ever so averse from sin, no one was ever so in sympathy with the sinner, as Jesus. The power of his life, death, and higher life, lay in this union of holiness and love. This was the objective atonement in Christ, and in this he was God manifest in the flesh. He who has seen him has seen the Father. The Christianized conscience, following Christ, pities the sinner, while it abhors the sin. Christian legislation lays aside the vindictive tendencies of natural law, and seeks at the same time to destroy evil, to protect society, and to reform the criminal. From this gospel view our author remands us to Paganism, and to the dicta of the natural conscience in unregenerate man. These testimonies only show, that conscience, in its unregenerate state, demands that the sinner be punished, and does not care whether that punishment does him good or harm, makes him better or worse. But conscience, when Christianized, does care: it wishes to save the sinner, while it punishes the sin. As far as the natural conscience goes, it speaks truly in saying that evil should follow sin. But why it should follow it, and what shall be the result, it does not say. That was left to Christ to reveal.

Dr. Thompson himself bears witness, unconsciously, to the truth of this distinction. Along with his testimonies from the Heathen conscience, he gives us two testimonies from the Christian conscience. The one is his own feelings on seeing a woman carried to the Tombs. He says he felt sympathy for her, and would fain have saved her from that shame, while he wished her crime to be punished. The other is the testimony of Dr. Bushnell, that the “necessary reason” why wicked people, remaining wicked, should not be in heaven, is, that it would destroy the happiness of heaven. These two Christians, therefore, have consciences which do not testify to punishment proceeding from naked, arbitrary, and vindictive law, such as the Pagan conscience accepts, but punishment having a reasonable end, a benevolent purpose, and accompanied with sympathy for the sinner.

Another position of Dr. Thompson is, however, so extraordinary, that it needs more consideration. His fifth proposition is this: “_The high and sacred Fatherhood which the gospel reveals is a Fatherhood in Christ towards those who love him, and not a general Fatherhood of indiscriminate love and blessing for the race._”

A certain want of logical clearness in our author’s mind appears in the very statement of this proposition. He joins together a positive and a negative, which have no antithetical relation. We entirely agree with him, that the Fatherhood of God is _not_ one of _indiscriminate_ love and blessing for the race; but we utterly reject the proposition, that the Fatherhood which Christ reveals is only one towards those who love him. The apostle John tells us that “we love him because he first loved us.” And again: “Herein is love; not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins.” The doctrine of the apostle is exactly opposite to that of Dr. Thompson. The modern divine teaches that God only loves those who first love him; but the ancient divine teaches that only by God’s loving us first do we come to love him. Nor is this doctrine peculiar to John. It is a fundamental truth of the New Testament, that God’s fatherly love, manifested to the soul, creates an answering love, and that nothing else can create it. Jesus said of the woman, “She loved much; but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.” God’s forgiving love comes first, and creates a grateful love in return. And again we read (John 3:16), “God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son.” He therefore loved the world while it was still alienated from him. And again we are told by the Saviour (Matt. 5:44) to “love our enemies, that we may be the children of our Father in heaven,” who loves his enemies.

Possibly our friend may say, “Yes, God loves the sinner; but he does not love him with a _fatherly_ love, but only with a general love.” Perhaps a copy of the New Testament may be used in the Tabernacle Church, New York, which does not contain the Parable of the Prodigal Son. Only on some such supposition can we account for this assertion of Dr. Thompson, that “the high and sacred Fatherhood which the gospel reveals is a Fatherhood in Christ towards those who love him.” Is that “_high and sacred Fatherhood of God_” revealed anywhere more fully and plainly than in this parable? and does it not teach expressly that the father loved the son, while he was absent, as a son? Is not his joy at the return of his son the evidence of that love which clung to him while he was away? Even after the son returned, he had not begun to love his father as a son: he did not think he had any right to do so. He did not expect that his father would love him again: he only expected to be as a servant. It is evidently, then, utterly false to say that God’s Fatherhood, revealed in the gospel, is only a Fatherhood towards those who love him: it is a Fatherhood to those who hate him and to those who fear him. His love creates theirs, and is not created by it. Such a doctrine as this of Dr. Thompson, if generally believed, would sap the foundations of Christian life, and turn the gospel of reconciling grace into a cold system of retribution.

As a proof of this melancholy opinion,—an opinion which takes the life out of the gospel,—the author relies chiefly on that passage in which Jesus says to the Jews that they were of their father the devil. (John 8:44.) From this he argues that they had no right to regard God as Father, and that no one has that right except pious believers in Christ. But was not God at that very moment their Father, in the same way that the father of the prodigal son was his father while he was yet in the far country? The prodigal son could not see his father’s love: while absent from him, he could not tell how much his father loved him. Only when he returned, and came back to his father’s house, could he behold that blessed countenance and feel that pardoning love. But none the less did his father love him during all that absence; none the less did he desire his return.

When Jesus said to the unbelieving Jews, “Ye are of your father the devil,” was he describing God’s state of mind, or their state of mind? Did he mean that God was alienated from them, or that they were alienated from God? He evidently meant to say that they were in a _devilish_ state of mind; that in their character and feelings they partook of the spirit of the devil, and not of the spirit of God. He was describing their position in relation to God, not God’s position in relation to them. The text, therefore, appears to have no direct bearing on the subject. It teaches, indeed, that they could have no truly filial feeling towards God; but it does not show that he might not have a truly parental feeling towards them. If they could not truly say, “Abba, Father,” he could say, “My son, give me thy heart.”

We dwell on this because our author seems to us to have assumed a position injurious, if not fatal, to the most vital force of the gospel. That which subdues and converts the heart, and makes all things new in the soul, is not to be told, that God will be our Father when we love him, but that he is our Father now. “Herein is love; not that we loved God, but that he loved us.” “God commends his love toward us, that, _while we were sinners_, Christ died for us.” But why multiply quotations to prove that which is written on the face of the gospel, and to which all Christian experience bears testimony? It is God’s love to us, descending in Christ, while we are estranged and far off, which draws up our affection to him: it is not our love which takes the initiative, and draws his down.

The sixth position argues future retribution from the demerit of sin, and asserts that “no punishment equal to the demerit of sin is, or can be, inflicted in the present life.”

The boldness of this proposition is only equalled by the poverty of the reasoning by which it is supported. To assert that it is not in the power of God adequately to punish sin in this world, is to profess a knowledge of the resources of Omnipotence, and an acquaintance with the deserts of man, which it seems to us presumptuous to claim. On this point it is not necessary to enlarge. An _a priori_ argument to prove that God cannot punish sin in this life as much as it deserves to be punished, can carry conviction to no mind which possesses any intellectual humility.

The seventh position declares that “there is no conceivable mode and no revealed promise by which the Fatherhood of God can make one, dying in impenitence and unbelief, holy and blessed in the future world.”

This is, of course, the very key-stone of the argument in support of the doctrine of everlasting punishment. The burden of proof rests upon those who assert that doctrine. It is not enough that Scripture does not expressly declare that there is an opportunity in the other life for repentance and pardon; for Scripture is dealing with us in this life, and has no occasion to say much of the opportunities of the other. Those who wish to prove that there is no opportunity hereafter must show some text which expressly declares it. No such text is produced, and there is no such text in the Bible. If Jesus had said, “You must repent in this life, for after death there will be no opportunity;” or, “At death, man’s spiritual condition is finally determined;” or, “After this life, man cannot turn from evil to good,”—we should have some distinct proof of the doctrine. But now we have none.

The Parable of Dives and Lazarus is referred to more than once by our author in support of his position. It is sufficient to say in regard to this, that the most Orthodox commentators, provided they are scholars, expressly deny that this refers to the doctrine of everlasting punishment. Olshausen, for instance, says, “Rightly to understand the whole delineation, we must, above all, keep clearly in view, that it is not everlasting salvation or condemnation which is here described, but the middle state of departed souls, between death and the resurrection.” “In our parable, there is no possible reference to the everlasting condemnation of the rich man, inasmuch as the germ of love, and of faith in love, is clearly expressed in his words.” The word translated “hell” in this parable is not Gehenna, but Hades.

Our author says, and says justly, that we can form no opinion as to another probation hereafter from _a priori_ reasoning, but that the question must be answered only from Scripture. Having said this, he immediately proceeds to argue it, _a priori_, stating that there are only three conceivable modes by which those dying impenitent can be saved; and then tries to show that neither is possible. After this, he quotes a few passages bearing only indirectly, and by inference, upon the question. The Parable of the Ten Virgins is one of these, because in it it is said, “The door is shut;” and, “Depart! I know you not.” With regard to this parable, also, Olshausen says that “the words ‘I know you not’ cannot denote eternal condemnation;” that the foolish virgins were “saved, but not sanctified;” and that the parable does not distinguish between the penitent and the impenitent, but between the penitent believers who watch and those who do not watch.

Of course, we have not been able to notice all the arguments of this book, or all the texts referred to; but we have perhaps said enough to show that its positions are not all tenable, and that its arguments are not absolutely unanswerable. This book of Dr. Thompson, though able, cannot be called conclusive.

§ 5. Defence of the Trinity, by Frederick D. Huntington, D. D.

The last section of this Appendix shall be devoted to an examination and criticism of Dr. Huntington’s sermon, printed some time since, in defence of the Trinity. The course of our argument will be as follows. We shall give the reasons which have induced Unitarians to reject the Church doctrine of the Trinity; also examining Dr. Huntington’s positions and arguments in its support.

The principal reasons, then, for rejecting the Church doctrine of the Trinity, as assigned by Unitarians, are these:—

1. That it is nowhere taught in the New Testament.

2. That every statement of the Trinity, which has ever been made, has been either, (1.) Self-contradictory; (2.) Unintelligible; (3.) Tritheistic; or, (4.) Unitarian, in the form of Sabellianism, or of Arianism.

3. That the arguments for it are inadequate.

4. That the arguments against it are overwhelming.

5. That the good ascribed to it does not belong to it, but to the truths which underlie it.

6. That great evils to the Church come from it.

7. That it is a doctrine of philosophy, and not of faith.

8. That we can trace its gradual historic formation in the Christian Church.

9. That it is opposed to a belief in the real divinity of Christ, and to a belief in his real humanity; thus undermining continually the faith of the Church in the divine humanity of Christ Jesus the Lord.

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Proceeding, then, to an examination of these reasons, we say,—

I. The Church doctrine of the Trinity is nowhere stated in the New Testament.

To prove this, as it is a negative proposition, would require us to go through the whole New Testament. But we are saved this necessity by the fact that we have a statement on this point from one of Dr. Huntington’s own witnesses, and one on whom he mainly relies. He brings forward Neander, the great Church historian, as a believer in the Trinity (p. 361), and again (p. 378), by an error which he has since candidly admitted, quotes him as saying, “It is the fundamental article of the Christian faith,”—which is just what he denies in the following passage. We call Neander to the stand, however, _now_, to have his unimpeachable testimony as a Trinitarian (and a Trinitarian claimed by Dr. Huntington with pride) to the fact, that the doctrine of the Trinity is nowhere stated in the New Testament. This is what Neander says of the Trinity, in the first volume of his great work on Church History (p. 572, Torrey’s translation):—

“We now proceed to the doctrine in which Theism, taken in its connection with the proper and fundamental essence of Christianity, or with the doctrine of redemption, finds its ultimate completion—_the doctrine of the Trinity_. This doctrine does not strictly belong to the fundamental articles of the Christian faith, as appears sufficiently evident from the fact, that it _is expressly held forth in no one particular passage of the New Testament_; for the only one in which it is done, the passage relating to the three that, bear record (1 John 5:7), is undoubtedly spurious, and in its ungenuine shape, testifies to the fact, how foreign such a collocation is from the style of the New Testament Scriptures. We find in the New Testament no other fundamental article than that of which the apostle Paul says, that other foundation can no man lay than that is laid—the annunciation of Jesus as the Messiah.”

With this authority we might be content. But Dr. Huntington differs from Neander in thinking that Jesus has himself stated the doctrine of the Trinity, and stated it clearly and fully, in the baptismal formula. (Matt. 28:19.) He says that this is “a clear and full declaration of the fundamental article of Christian belief.” He says, “Now, if ever, Christ will distinctly proclaim the doctrine of Christendom;” and he then declares that Christ, in this passage, told his Church to baptize “in the Triune name.”(90)

Not in the Tri_une_ name, certainly. This is an assumption of our friend. He may think that this is implied; that this is to be inferred; that this is what Christ meant; but certainly it is not what Christ said. Christ gives us here _three_ objects of baptism, no doubt; but he does not say that they are one. How far this baptismal formula is “a clear and full declaration” of the doctrine of the Trinity will appear thus. The doctrine of the Trinity declares,—

1. That the Father is God.

2. That the Son is God.

3. That the Holy Ghost is God.

4. That the Holy Ghost is a person, like the Father and the Son.

5. That these three persons constitute one God.

Of these five propositions, all of which are essential to the doctrine of the Trinity, _not one is stated in the baptismal formula_. Christ here says _nothing_ about the deity of the Father, the Son, or the Holy Ghost; _nothing_ about the personality of either of them; and _nothing_ about their unity: It is difficult to conceive, therefore, how Dr. Huntington can bring himself to call this a command to baptize in the Triune name.

Dr. Huntington adds, “Our faith is summoned to the three persons, of the one God.” But nothing is said of three _persons_; nothing is said of their being one God.

He says, “No hint is given that there is any difference of nature, dignity, duration, power, or glory, between them.”

We admit it, but also say, that no hint is given of any _equality_ of nature, dignity, duration, power, or glory, between them. Which way, then, is the argument? Christ does not state, on the one hand, that the three are unequal or different: he does not state, on the other hand, that they are equal and the same. The inference of proof from this fact seems to us to be this: If the apostles, when Christ spoke to them, were already full believers in the church doctrine of the Trinity, the fact that Christ did not deny it would be an argument in its favor; but if the apostles were, at that time, wholly ignorant of the Trinity, then the fact, that he did not assert it distinctly, at least shows that he did not mean to teach it at that time. That inference appears to us a very modest one. But Dr. Huntington will admit that they did not know the doctrine; for he tells us that it was the purpose of Christ to teach it to them at that time. To which we can only reply, If he meant to teach the doctrine, why did he not teach it?

That the _word_ TRINITY is not to be found in the New Testament, and that it was invented by Tertullian, is a matter of little consequence; but that the doctrine itself should be nowhere stated in the New Testament we conceive to be a matter of very great consequence. We have seen that Dr. Huntington’s attempt to show that it _is_ stated in the baptismal formula is a failure. If not stated there, we presume that he will not maintain that it is stated anywhere. We therefore agree with Neander in saying, that, whether the doctrine be true or not, it is not taught distinctly in the New Testament. If taught at all, it is only taught inferentially; that is, it is a matter of reasoning, not a matter of faith. It is metaphysics: it is not religion.

II. The second reason why Unitarians reject the Church doctrine of the Trinity is this:—

That every statement of the Trinity has proved, on examination, to be either, (1.) A contradiction in terms; or, (2.) Unintelligible; or, (3.) Tritheistic; or, (4.) Unitarianism under a Trinitarian form.

Let us examine this objection. What is the general statement of the Trinity, as made by the Orthodox Church, Catholic and Protestant? Fortunately, this question is easily answered.

Orthodoxy has been consistent since the middle ages in its general statement, however much it may have varied in its explanations of what it meant by that statement.

The doctrine of the Trinity, as it stands in the creeds of the churches, is this:—

There is in the nature of God three persons,—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,—and these three are one being. They are the same in substance, equal in power and glory. Each of these three persons is very God, infinite in all attributes; and yet there are not three Gods, but one God.

According to the general doctrine of Orthodoxy, the unity of God is in being, essence, and substance; that is, God is one being, God is one essence, God is one substance. The threefold division stops short of the being of God: it does not penetrate to his essential nature: it does not divide his substance.

What, then, is the Trinity? It is a Trinity of persons.

But what is meant by “person,” as used in this doctrine? According to the common and familiar use of the word at the present time, three persons are three beings. Personality expresses the most individual existence imaginable. If, therefore, the word “person” is to be taken according to the common use of the phrase, the doctrine of the Trinity would be evidently a contradiction in terms. It would be equivalent to saying, God is one being, but God is three beings; which again would be equivalent to saying that one is three.

Now, Trinitarians generally are too acute and clear-sighted to fall into such a palpable contradiction as this. It is a common accusation against them, that they believe one to be three, and three one; but this charge is, in most cases, unjust. This would be only true in case they affirmed that God is three in the same way in which he is one; but they do not usually say this. They declare that he is one being,—not three beings. They declare that the threefold distinction relates to personality, not to being, and that they use the word “person,” not in the common sense, but in a peculiar sense, to express, as well as they can, a distinction, which, from the poverty of language, no word can be found to express exactly. Thus St. Augustine confessed, long ago, “We say that there are three persons, not in order to say anything, but in order not to be wholly silent.” _Non ut aliquid diceretur, sed ut ne taceretur._ And so Archbishop Whately, in the notes to his Logic, regrets that the word “person” should ever have been used by our divines; and says, “If _hypostasis_, or any other completely foreign word, had been used instead, no idea at all would have been conveyed, except that of the explanation given; and thus the danger, at least, of being misled by a word, would have been avoided.”

(1.) _The Unintelligible Statement._

The Trinitarian thus avoids asking us to believe a contradiction; but, in avoiding this, he runs upon another rock—that, namely, of not asking us to believe anything at all; for if “person” here does _not_ mean what it commonly means, and if it be impossible, from the poverty of language, to define precisely the idea which is intended by it, we are then asked to believe a proposition which Trinitarians themselves are unable to express. But a proposition which is not expressed is no proposition. A proposition, any important term of which is unintelligible, is wholly unintelligible.

To make this matter clear, let us put it into a conversational form. We will suppose that two persons meet together,—one a Unitarian, the other a Trinitarian.

_Trinitarian._ You do not believe the Trinity? Then you cannot be saved. No one can be saved who denies the Trinity. It is a vital and fundamental doctrine.

_Unitarian._ Tell me what it is, and I will see if I can believe it. What is the Trinity?

_Trin._ God exists as one being, but three persons.

_Unit._ What do you mean by “person”? Do you mean a person like Peter, James, or John?

_Trin._ No; we use “person” from the poverty of language. We do not mean that.

_Unit._ What, then, do you mean by it?

_Trin._ It is a mystery. We cannot understand it precisely.

_Unit._ I have no objection to the doctrine being mysterious; I believe a great many things which are mysterious; but I don’t want the _language_ to be mysterious. You might as well use a Greek, or a Hebrew, or a Chinese word, and ask me to believe that there are three _hypostases_ or three _prosopa_ in Deity, if you do not tell me what you mean by the word “person.”

_Trin._ It is a great mystery. It is a matter of _faith_, not of _reasoning_. You must believe it, and not speculate about it.

_Unit._ Believe _it_? Believe _what_? I am waiting for you to tell me what I am to believe. I am ready to exercise my faith; but you are tasking, not my faith, but my knowledge of language. I suppose that you do not wish me to believe _words_, but thoughts. I wish to look through the word, and see what thought lies behind it.

Now, it seems to us that this is a very fair demand of the Unitarian. To ask us to believe a proposition, any important term of which is unintelligible, is precisely equivalent to asking us to believe no proposition at all. Let us listen to Paul: “Even things without life, giving sound, whether pipe or harp, except they give a distinction in the sounds, how shall it be known what is piped or harped? For, if the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself for battle? So likewise ye, except ye utter by the tongue words easy to be understood, how shall it be known what is spoken? _for ye shall speak into the air_.... For, if I know not the meaning of the voice, I shall be unto him that speaketh a barbarian; and he that speaketh, a barbarian unto me.”

It is of no use to talk about mystery in order to excuse ourselves for not using intelligible language. That which is _mysterious_ is one thing; that which is _unintelligible_ is quite another thing. We may understand what a mystery is, though we cannot comprehend _how_ it is; but that which is unintelligible we neither comprehend nor understand at all. We neither know _how_ it is, nor _what_ it is. Thus, for example, the fact of God’s foreknowledge and man’s freedom is a mystery. I cannot comprehend how God can foreknow what I am to do to-morrow, and yet I be free to do it or not to do it. I cannot comprehend how Jesus should be delivered to death by the determined counsel and foreknowledge of God, and yet the Jews have been free agents in crucifying him and accountable for it. These things are mysteries; but they are not unintelligible as doctrines. I see what is meant by them. There is no obscurity in the assertion that God foreknows everything, nor in the other assertion that man is a free agent. I can see clearly what is implied _in both statements_, although my mind cannot grasp both, and bring them together, and show the way in which they may be reconciled. So, too, infinity is a mystery. We cannot comprehend it. Our mind cannot go round it, grasp it, sustain it. Our thought sinks baffled before the attempt to penetrate to the depth of such a wonderful idea. But we understand well enough what is meant by infinity. There is nothing obscure in _the statement_ of the fact, that the universe is unbounded. So the way in which a flower grows from its seed is mysterious. We cannot comprehend how the wonderful principle of life can be wrapped up in those little folds, and how it can cause the root to strike downward, and the airy stalk to spring lightly upward, and the leaves to unfold, and, last of all, the bright, consummate flower to open its many-colored eye. But certainly we can understand very well _the statement_ that a flower grows, though we do not comprehend how it grows.

Do not, then, tell us, when you have announced a doctrine, the language of which is unintelligible, that you have told us a mystery. You have done no such thing. Your proposition is not mysterious: it is unintelligible. It is not a mystery: it is only a mystification.

(2.) _The Tritheistic Statement._

Leaving, then, this ground of mystery, and attempting to define move clearly what he means by three persons and one substance, the Trinitarian often sinks the Unity in the Triplicity, and so runs ashore upon Tritheism. This happens when he explains the term “person” as implying independent existence; in which case the Unity is changed into Union. Then we have really three Gods: the FATHER, who devises the plan of redemption; the SON, who goes forth to execute it; and the HOLY SPIRIT, who sanctifies believers. If there are these three distinct beings, they can be called one God only as they are one in will, in aim, in purpose,—only as they agree perfectly on all points. The Unity of God, then, becomes only a unity of agreement, not a unity of being. This is evidently not the Unity which is taught in the Bible, where Jesus declares that the _first of all the commandments is_, “Hear, O Israel! the Lord our God is ONE Lord.”

Moreover, against such a Trinity as this there are insuperable objections, from grounds of reason as well as of Scripture. For God is the Supreme Being, the Most High; and how can there be _three_ Supreme Beings, three Most High Gods? Again: God is the First Cause; but if the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost are each God, and all equal in power and majesty, and have each an independent existence, then there are three first causes; which is evidently impossible. Again: one of the attributes of God is his independent or absolute existence. A being who depends on another cannot be the Supreme God. The Father, Son, and Spirit, therefore, cannot depend on each other; for each, by depending on another, would cease to be the independent God. But, if they do not depend on each other, then each ceases to be God, who is the First Cause; for that being is not the First Cause who has two other beings independent of him. Other arguments of the same kind might be adduced to show that there cannot be three necessary beings. In fact, all the arguments from reason, which go to prove the Unity of God, prove a unity of nature, not of agreement.

“But why argue against Tritheism?” you may say. “Are any Tritheists?” Yes: many Trinitarians are in reality Tritheists, by their own account of themselves. There are many who make the _Unity_ of God a mere unity of agreement, and talk about the society in the Godhead, and the _intercourse_ between the Father, Son, and Spirit.(91)

Opposed to this kind of Trinity is another view, in which the Unity is preserved, but the Trinity lost. According to this view, God is one Being, who reveals himself in three ways,—as Father, as Son, as Spirit,—or sustains three relations, or manifests himself in three modes of operation. The Trinity here becomes a nominal thing, and is, in reality, only Unitarianism with an Orthodox name. This kind of Trinity also is very prevalent, and is the one really maintained by men of high standing in the Orthodox Church, both in Europe and America. According to this view, the word “person” in the doctrine of the Trinity means the same as the corresponding word in Greek and Latin formerly meant; namely, the outward character, not the inward individuality. Thus Cicero says, “I, being one, sustain three persons or characters; my own, that of my client, and that of the judge”—_Ego unus, sustineo tres personas_.

This view of the Trinity is commonly called Modalism, or Sabellianism, and is also widely held by those who call themselves Trinitarians. It is, in fact, only Unitarianism under a Trinitarian name.(92)

(3.) _The Subordination View._

Avoiding these two extremes, and yet wishing to retain a distinct idea of Unity and Tri-personality, the Trinitarian is necessarily driven upon a third view, in which the Father is the only really Supreme and Independent Being, the Son and the Holy Spirit subordinate and dependent.

This view, which is called the subordination scheme, or Arianism, is Unitarianism again in another form; and this view also is entertained by many who still retain the name of “Trinitarians.” According to this view, the Son and the Holy Ghost are really God, but are so by a derived divinity. God the Father communicates his divinity to the Son and the Holy Ghost. This is the view really taken in the Nicene Creed, though adopted in opposition to the Arians, and was the doctrine of the earliest Church Fathers before the Arian controversy began. In the Nicene Creed, we read that the Son is “God of (ἐκ) God, Light of (ἐκ) Light, true God of true God;” the “_of_” here being the same as “from,” and denoting origin and derivation.

This doctrine seems, in reality, to have less in its favor than either of the others. By calling the Son and Holy Spirit God, it contrives to make three distinct Gods, and so is Tritheism; and yet, by making them dependent on the Father, it becomes Unitarianism again. Thus, singularly enough, this attempt at making a compromise between Unity and Trinity loses both Unity and Trinity; for it makes three Gods, and so loses the Unity; and yet it makes Christ not “God over all,” not the Supreme Being, and so loses the Trinity.

Between these different views, between Tritheism, Sabellianism, and Arianism, the Orthodox Trinity has always swung to and fro,—inclining more to one or to the other according to the state of controversy in any particular age. When the Arian or Tritheistic views were proclaimed and defended, the Orthodoxy of the Church swung over towards Sabellianism, making the Unity strong and solid; and the Trinity became a thin mode or an airy abstraction. When Sabellianism, thus encouraged, came openly forward, and defended its system and won adherents, then Church Orthodoxy would hasten to set up barriers on that side, and would fall back upon Tritheistic ground, making the Threefold Personality a profound and real distinction, penetrating the very nature of Deity, and changing the Unity of Being into a mere Unity of Will or agreement. We will venture to say, that there has never yet been a definition of the Trinity which has not been either Tritheistic or Modalistic; and Church Orthodoxy has always stood either on Tritheistic or on Sabellian ground. In other words, the Orthodox Trinity of any age, when searched to the bottom, has proved to be Unitarianism, after all—Unitarianism in the Tritheistic or in the Sabellian disguise; for the Tritheism of three coequal, independent, and absolute Gods, is too much opposed both to reason and Scripture to be able ever to maintain itself openly as a theology for any length of time.

The analogies which are used to explain the Trinity are all either Sabellian or Tritheistic. Nature has been searched in all ages for these analogies, by which to make the Trinity plain; but none have ever been found which did not make the Trinity either Sabellianism or Tritheism. They are either three parts of the substance, or else three qualities or modes of the substance.

Thus we have instances in which the three are made the three parts of one being, or substance; as in _man_,—spirit, soul, body; thought, affection, will; head, heart, hand.

One Being with three distinct faculties is Tritheism: one Being acting in three directions is Sabellianism.

Time is past, present, and future. Syllogism has its major, minor, and conclusion. There are other like analogies.

St. Patrick took for his illustration the three leaves of trefoil, or clover. Others have imagined the Trinity like a triangle; or they have referred to the three qualities of space,—height, breadth, width; or of fire,—form, light, and heat; or of a noun, which has its masculine, feminine, and neuter; or of a government, consisting of king, lords, and commons; or of executive, legislative, and judiciary.

This survey of Church Trinity shows that it is either one in which,—

1. The persons are not defined; or an unintelligible Trinity.

2. Or which defines person and Unity in the usual sense; or a contradictory Trinity.

3. Or which defines person as usual, and the Unity as only Union; or Tritheism.

4. Or which defines person as only manifestation; or Sabellianism.

These four are all the views ever hitherto given, and are all untenable. We might stop here, and say that the Trinity is utterly unsupported. There is no need of going to the Scripture to see if it is taught there; for we have, as yet, nothing to look for in Scripture.

The Trinitarian’s difficulty appears to be in defining person. But possibly he may say, “I cannot, indeed, give a positive idea of person; but I can give a _negative_ one. I cannot say what it _is_; but I can say what it is _not_. It is _not_ a mere _mode_ on the one hand; and not _being_, on the other. We must neither confound the persons nor divide the substance.”

We will, then, go further, and say, as Trinitarians have never yet defined person, without making it either a mode or a being, so they never can define it otherwise. There is no third between being and mode. They _must_ either confound the persons or divide the substance.

Again: that which differences one person in the Deity from another must be either a perfection or an imperfection. There is nothing between these. But it cannot be an imperfection; for no imperfection exists in God: and it cannot be a perfection; for then the other two persons would want a divine perfection, and would be imperfect.

III. The arguments in support of the Trinity are wholly inadequate. Since, according to Neander, the Trinity is not stated in the New Testament, it follows that it is a doctrine of _inference_ only; that is, a piece of human reasoning. Now, we have, no doubt, a perfect right to infer doctrines from Scripture which are not stated there; but, as Protestants, we have no right to make these inferences fundamental, or essential to the religious life. They may, indeed, be metaphysically essential; that is, essential to a well-arranged system; but they are not morally essential; that is, not essential to the moral and spiritual life of the soul.

But this is just what Dr. Huntington attempts to do. He tries to show that there is a doctrine essential to the life, peace, and progress of man, which the New Testament has omitted to state; which is neither distinctly stated by our Saviour nor by any of his apostles; which has been left to be inferred, and inferred by the mere processes of unaided human reason.

What arguments does he allege for this?

His first and principal argument is the _universal belief of the Christian Church in the doctrine of the Trinity_.

On this Dr. Huntington lays great stress. He says,—

“Truth is not determined by majorities; and yet it would be contrary to the laws of our constitution not to be affected by a testimony so vast, uniform, and sacred as that which is rendered by the common belief of Christian history and the Christian countries to the truth of the Trinity. There is something extremely painful, not to say irreverent, towards the Providence which has watched and led the true Christian Israel, in presuming that a tenet so emphatically and gladly received in all the ages and regions of Christendom, as almost literally to meet the terms of the test of Vincentius,—believed always, everywhere, and by all,—is unfounded in revelation and truth. Such a conclusion puts an aspect of uncertainty over the mind of the Church, scarcely consistent with any tolerable confidence in that great promise of the Master, that he would be with his own all days.” (p. 359.)

To which we answer,—

(1.) That, according to Dr. Bushnell (Dr. Huntington’s own witness), there never has been, nor is now, any such belief in the doctrine of the Trinity as he asserts. The largest part of the Church have always “divided the substance” of the deity, and another large portion have “confounded the persons;” and so the majority of the Church, while holding the word “Trinity,” have never believed in the Triunity at all.

Dr. Huntington summons Dr. Bushnell as a witness to the practical value of the Trinity; and we may suppose something such an examination as this to take place:—

_Dr. Huntington._ Tell us, Dr. Bushnell, what instances you know of persons who have been converted or deeply blessed by the holy doctrine of the Trinity.

_Dr. Bushnell._ I have known of “a great cloud of witnesses,” “living myriads,” “who have been raised to a participation of God in the faith of this adorable mystery,” (Huntington, p. 413.)

_Dr. H._ Mention some of them.

_Dr. B._ “Francis Junius,” “two centuries and a half ago,”—a professor “at Heidelberg (Leyden?), testified that he was, in fact, converted from atheism by the Christian Trinity;” also “the mild and sober Howe;” “Jeremy Taylor;” also “the Marquis de Rentz;” “Edwards,” and “Lady Maxwell.” (Huntington, p. 414.)

_Unitarian._ Say, Dr. Bushnell, whether, in your opinion, the majority of Christians really believe in the Church doctrine of the Trinity.

_Dr. B._ “A very large portion of the Christian teachers, together with the general mass of disciples, undoubtedly hold three living persons in the interior nature of God.” (Bushnell: “God in Christ,” p. 130.)

_Unit._ Is that scriptural or Orthodox?

_Dr. B._ No. It is only “a social Unity.” It is “a celestial Tritheocracy.” It “boldly renounces Orthodoxy at the point opposite to Unitarianism.” (Bushnell: “God in Christ,” p. 131.)

_Unit._ Do I understand you to be now speaking of the properly Orthodox ministers and churches generally?

_Dr. B._ “Our properly Orthodox teachers and churches, while professing three persons, also retain the verbal profession of one person. They suppose themselves really to hold that God is one person; and yet they most certainly do not: they only confuse their understanding, and call their confusion faith. This I affirm on the ground of sufficient evidence; partly because it cannot be otherwise, and partly because it visibly is not.” (_Ibid._ p. 131.)

_Unit._ Do you believe, Dr. Bushnell, that spiritual good can come from such a belief in the Trinity as you describe to be “undoubtedly” that of “the general mass of disciples”?

_Dr. B._ “Mournful evidence will be found that a confused and painfully bewildered state is often produced by it. They are practically at work in their thoughts to choose between the three, sometimes actually and decidedly preferring one to another; doubting how to adjust their mind in worship; uncertain, after, which of the three to obey; turning away, possibly, from one with a feeling of dread that might well be called aversion; devoting themselves to another, as the Romanist to his patron saint. This, in fact, is Polytheism, and not the clear, simple love of God. There is true love in it, doubtless; but the comfort of love is not here. The mind is involved in a dismal confusion, which we cannot think of without the sincerest pity. No soul can truly rest in God, when God is in two or three, and these in such a sense that a choice between them must be continually suggested.” (_Ibid._ p. 134.)

_Unit._ This state of mind is undoubtedly that of the general mass of the disciples?

_Dr. B._ It is. (_Ibid._ p. 130.)

_Unit._ Are there others, calling themselves Trinitarians, who hold essentially the Unitarian doctrine?

_Dr. B._ Yes. “It is a somewhat curious fact in theology that the class of teachers who protest over the word ‘person,’ declaring that they mean only a _threefold distinction_, cannot show that there is really a hair’s breadth of difference between their doctrine and the doctrine asserted by many of the later Unitarians. They may teach or preach in a very different manner; they probably do: but the theoretic contents of their opinion cannot be distinguished. Thus they say that there is a certain divine person in the man Jesus Christ; but that, when they use the term ‘person,’ they mean, not a person, but a certain indefinite and indefinable distinction. The later Unitarians, meantime, are found asserting that God is present in Christ in a mysterious and peculiar communication of his being; so that he is the living embodiment and express image of God. If, now, the question be raised, ‘Wherein does the indefinable _distinction_ of one differ from the mysterious and peculiar _communication_ of the other?’ or ‘How does it appear that there is any difference?’ there is no living man, I am quite sure, who can invent an answer.” (_Ibid._ p. 135.)

_Unit._ Is it not true that both of these views are sometimes held alternately by Trinitarians?

_Dr. B._ “Probably there is a degree of alternation, or inclining from one side to the other, in this view of Trinity, as the mind struggles, now to embrace one, and now the other, of two incompatible notions. Some persons are more habitually inclined to hold the three; a very much smaller number, to hold the one.” (_Ibid._ p. 134.)

_Unit._ But can they not hold the Unity with this Trinity?

_Dr. B._ “No man can assert three persons, meaning three consciousnesses, wills, and understandings, and still have any intelligent meaning in his mind, when he asserts that they are yet one person. For, as he now uses the term, the very idea of a person is that of an essential, incommunicable monad, bounded by consciousness, and vitalized by self-active will; which being true, he might as well profess to hold that three units are yet one unit. When he does it, his words will, of necessity, be only substitutes for sense.” (_Ibid._ p. 131.)

(2.) But suppose that the belief of the Church in the Trinity was as universal as Dr. Huntington asserts and Dr. Bushnell denies, what would be its value? His argument proves too much. If it proves the Trinity to be true, it proves, _a fortiori_, the Roman Catholic Church to be the true Church, and Protestantism to be an error; for Martin Luther, at one time, was the only Protestant in the world. Suppose that a Roman priest had come to him then. He might have addressed him thus:—

“It is certainly an impressive testimony to the truth of the Church of Rome, that the Christian world have been so generally agreed in it. Truth is not determined by majorities; and yet it would be contrary to the laws of our constitution not to be affected by a testimony so vast, uniform, and sacred as that which is rendered by the common belief of Christian history and the Christian centuries to the doctrines and practices of the Roman Catholic Church. We travel abroad, through these converted lands, over the round world. We enter, at the call of the Sabbath morning light, the place of assembled worshippers; let it be the newly planted conventicle on the edge of the Western forest, or the missionary station at the extremity of the Eastern continent; let it be the collection of Northern mountaineers, or of the dwellers in Southern valleys; let it be in the plain village meeting-house, or in the magnificent cathedrals of the old cities; let it be the crowded congregation of the metropolis, or the ‘two or three’ that meet in faith in upper chambers, in log-huts or under palm-trees; let it be regenerate bands gathered to pray in the islands of the ocean, or thankful circles of believers confessing their dependence and beseeching pardon on ships’ decks, in the midst of the ocean. So we pass over the outstretched countries of both hemispheres; and it is well nigh certain—so certain that the rare and scattered exceptions drop out of the broad and general conclusion—that the lowly petitions, the fervent supplications, the hearty confessions, the eager thanksgivings, or the grand peals of choral adoration, which our ears will hear, will be uttered according to the grand ritual of the Church of Rome. This is the voice of the unhesitating praise that embraces and hallows the globe.”

What would Luther have replied to that? He would have said, “Truth must have a beginning. It is always, at first, in a minority. The gate of it is strait, the path to it narrow, and few find it. All reforms are, at the beginning, in the hands of a small number. If God and truth are on our side, what do we care for your multitudes?” We can make the same answer now.

Dr. Huntington proceeds to give his own creed in regard to the Trinity,—to state his own belief.

God, in himself, he declares, we cannot know at all. We know him only, in his revelation. “Out of that ineffable and veiled Godhead—the groundwork, if we may say so, of all divine manifestation; a theocracy—there emerge to us, in revelation, the three whom we rightly call persons—Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.”

We can only conceive of God, he says, in action; and in action we behold him as three. But action and revelation take place in time. The Trinity, therefore, according to Dr. Huntington, is only known to us in temporal manifestation: whether it exists in eternity or not, we cannot tell. And yet, in the next sentence, he goes on to say that “the Son is eternally begotten of the Father,” and “the Holy Ghost proceeds out of the Father, _not in time_;” which is the very thing he had a moment before professed to know nothing about. It is very difficult, therefore, to tell precisely what his view is. With regard to the incarnation of the Son, he is still more obscure. He says that “Christ comes forth out of the Godhead as the Son;” that he “leaves the glory he had with the Father;” that, while he is on earth, the Father alone represents the unseen personality of the Godhead, and that therefore the Son appears to be dependent on him, and submissive; that temporarily, while the Son is in the world, he remains ignorant of what the Father knows, and says that his Father is greater than he. “He lessens himself to dependency for the sake of mediation.” “All this we might expect.” This he calls an “instrumental inequality between Son and Father:” it “is wrought into the biblical language, remains in all our devotional habit, and ought to remain there.”

In other words, Dr. Huntington believes that the Infinite God became less than infinite in the incarnation. The common explanation of those passages, where Christ says, for example, “My Father is greater than I,” does not satisfy him. He is not satisfied that Jesus said it “in his human nature.” No. It was the divine nature which said it; and it was really GOD THE SON, who did not know the day nor the hour of his own coming. He lost a part of his omniscience. He ceased to be perfect in all his attributes. We should say, then, that he ceased to be God; but Dr. Huntington maintains that he was God, nevertheless; but God less than omnipotent,—God less than omniscient; God the Son, so distinct from the Father as to be ignorant of what the Father knew, and unable to perform what the Father could do.

Dr. Huntington (p. 366) ascribes it to “condescension” in Christ, to say that “of that day and hour knoweth not the Son.” “_It is condescension indeed!_” says he. But this word “condescension” does not well apply here. One does not condescend to be ignorant of what he knows: still less does a truthful person condescend _to say_ he is ignorant of what he knows. We may wisely condescend to help the feeble, and sympathize with the lowly, but hardly to be ignorant with them, or to pretend to be ignorant. It is a badly chosen word, and seems to show the vacillation of the writer’s thought.

IV. The arguments against the doctrine of the Trinity are unanswerable.

We infer that they are unanswerable from the fact that they are not answered. It is to be presumed that Dr. Huntington, having been for so many years a preacher of Unitarian doctrine, is acquainted with our arguments. It is a remarkable fact that, in this sermon, he has nowhere attempted to reply to them. He has passed them wholly by. You would not know, from reading the discourse, that he had ever been a Unitarian, or had ever heard of the Unitarian objections to the Trinity; still less that he had himself preached against it. Unitarians, for instance, have said, that _if the Trinity be true, and if it be so important to the welfare of the soul as is contended, it would be somewhere plainly taught in the New Testament_. Does Dr. Huntington answer this argument? No; he answers the argument from the _word_ “Trinity” not being in the Bible, and his answer is sufficient; but he does not answer the argument from the fact, that the doctrine itself is not anywhere distinctly taught, and that none of the terms which have been found essential to any Orthodox statement of the doctrine are to be met with in the New Testament.(93)

Nor does Dr. Huntington anywhere fairly meet the Unitarian argument from the impossibility of stating the doctrine in intelligible language. He tells us, with his usual eloquence, what we have often enough been taught before, that there are many things which we do not understand, and that we must believe many facts the _mode_ of which is unintelligible. But when we say, “Can we believe _a doctrine_ or proposition which cannot be distinctly stated?” He has no answer. The Trinity is _a doctrine_, and must therefore be distinctly stated in order to be believed. It has not been distinctly stated,(94) and therefore cannot be believed. To this objection Dr. Huntington has no reply; and we may conclude that it is an unanswerable objection.

Dr. Huntington uses an unnecessary phrase about those who object to mystery. He calls the objection “shallow self-illusion,” and proceeds with the usual declaration, that all of life is mysterious. Can he have been a Unitarian preacher for twenty years, and not have known that Unitarians object to mystery only when it is used by Trinitarians as a cover for obscurity and vagueness of statement?

You ask us to believe a precise statement, viz., that “there are three _persons_ in the Godhead.” We say, “What do you mean by ‘person’?” The Trinitarian answers, “It is a mystery.” We say, “We cannot believe it, then.” The Trinitarian replies, “Why, all is a mystery. How the grass grows is a mystery; yet you believe it.” “No,” we say, “we do not believe it. When the mystery begins, our belief ends; we believe up to that point, and no farther.” The statement, “the grass grows,” is _not_ a mystery; the fact, “the grass grows,” is _not_ a mystery. We believe the fact and the statement. The _way_ in which it grows _is_ mysterious; and we do not believe anything about it. “You cannot understand _how_ the grass grows.” No; and, accordingly, we do not believe anything about _how_ the grass grows. But the whole purpose of the Trinity is to show _how_ the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit exist. You are not satisfied that we receive _what_ the Scripture teaches; you try to show us the _how_, and then leave it in obscurity at last.

Nor does Dr. Huntington reply to the Unitarian explanation of the Trinitarian proof-texts. Trinitarians have often quoted the texts—“_I and my Father are one_;” “_He who has seen me has seen the Father_”—in proof of the Deity of Christ. Unitarians have often replied to both of them: to the first passage, that since Jesus has also said that his _disciples were to be one with him, as he is one with God_, it either proves that the disciples are also to be God, or does _not_ prove that Christ is God. To the second passage, Unitarians have replied by reading the next clause, in which Christ says, “Believest thou not that I am _in_ the Father?” showing how it is that he reveals the Father. He is _in_ the Father, and his disciples are _in_ him. Those who see him, see the Father; those who see his true disciples, see the face and image of Christ. These answers are so obvious, and Dr. Huntington must have heard them so often, that he should, as a controversialist, have taken some notice of them. He has not done so.

He quotes the passage from Eph. 1:20, 21, and says, “_Can this be a creature?_” We reply, “Can he be anything _but_ a creature?—he who was _set_ by God in this place of honor.” Does God set God, as a reward, above principalities and powers? Does God make God “head over all things in the Church”? Again: Dr. Huntington quotes, “that, at the name of Jesus, every knee should bow, and every tongue confess that he is Lord;” but he omits the conclusion, “to the glory of God the Father.”

He even quotes the passage, “Him _hath God exalted_ to give repentance and forgiveness of sin.”

And he quotes the passage, which has staggered the strongest believers in the Trinity, where Paul declares (1 Cor. ch. 15), that, _at the end_, Christ will give up his kingdom to the Father, that “God may be all in all,” and explains it as meaning that “he will resume his place in the coequal Three, the indivisible One.” Has he _left_ his place, then? Is that Orthodox? Dr. Huntington evidently thinks so; for he says, “The Son, in his character of Sonship, is retaken, so to speak, into the everlasting undivided One.” _So to speak._ We may _speak_ so: “But what do we mean by it?” is the question. Did God the Son leave his place in the Godhead? Did he become less than God? Did he become ignorant? Did he suffer and die? Did he arise, and at last reascend, and take his place, “so to speak,” in the Godhead? If this is meant as real statement, what better is it than the Avatars of Vishnu? What sort of Unity is left to us? We have a Trinity of council; but where is the Unity, except of agreement? One divine Being descending, and leaving the other divine Being alone, temporarily, on the throne of the universe, until the divine Being who had descended should reascend to take his seat again “in the coequal Three and indivisible One”!

One Unitarian argument, which appears to us unanswerable, is in the fact, that the very passages in which the highest attributes are ascribed to Christ are always those in which his dependence and subordination are most strongly asserted. We could throw aside all the passages in which Jesus asserts directly his inferiority,—as, “My Father is greater than I;” “Of mine own self I can do nothing,”—and take the strongest proof-texts of the Trinitarians, and ask for no better proof for the Unitarian doctrine: “All power is given to me in heaven and earth;” “The image of the invisible God, the first-born of every creature;” “In him dwelt all the fulness of the Godhead bodily.” Are these passages written of Christ in his divine or human nature? Not his divine nature; for to God the Son all power cannot be “given.” God the Son cannot be “the image of God,” or the “first-born of every _creature_.” The “fulness of the Godhead” cannot dwell in God the Son. They must, then, be said of him in his human nature; and, if so, they show that the loftiest titles and attributes do not prove him to be God.

V. The good ascribed to the doctrine of the Trinity does not belong to it, but to the truths which underlie it.

Dr. Huntington asserts, for example, that “the Triunity of God appears to be the necessary means of manifesting and supporting in the mind of our race, a faith in the true personality of God.”

If so, it is remarkable that the two forms of religion in which the personality of God, as absolute will, is most distinctly recognized (i.e., the _Jewish_ religion and the _Mohammedan_ religion), should both be ignorant of the Trinity. It is equally remarkable that the most Pantheistic religion in the world, in which the personality of God most entirely disappears (i.e., Braminism), should have a Trinity of its own. It is also remarkable, on this hypothesis, that idolatry in the Christian Church (as worship of Mary, worship of saints and relics, &c.) should come up with the Trinity, and flourish simultaneously with it.

No; it is not the Trinity which brings out most distinctly the personality of God, but the faith in a divine revelation through inspired men. If God can dwell in the souls of men, teaching and guiding them, he must be a person like the soul with which he communes. Especially does the religious consciousness of Jesus, his simple and child-like communion with the heavenly Father, bring God near to the soul as a personal being. It is not the Trinity, but the Christian faith which underlies it, which teaches the divine personality.

Nor is it the doctrine of the Trinity which is necessary for a living faith in God through Christ, reconciling the world unto himself. All that Dr. Huntington says of the evil of sin is well said, but has no bearing on the point before us. According to Dr. Huntington’s own witnesses, as we have seen above, the Trinity was unknown in the earlier ages of the Church. Was reconciliation unknown? Was the forgiving love of Christ unknown? If he cannot assert this, the doctrine of the Trinity is not necessary to a living faith in a reconciling God.

Dr. Huntington argues, that only the sufferings, and actual sufferings, of God himself, can touch the sinful heart; and, therefore, the Trinity is true. The conclusion is a long way from the premise, even supposing that to be sound. But as regards the premise, he has read and quoted Mansel. Has he not verged towards the dogmatism which that writer condemns? Would it not be more modest, and better accord with Christian humility, to be satisfied with believing the scriptural assertions, that “God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son;” that “He who spared not his own Son, but gave him up for us all,—shall he not, with him, freely give us all things?” Is not this enough, without an argument to prove that the _only_ way by which man can be saved is the method of a suffering God?

We will not dwell further on this head, nor examine our friend’s argument to show that we cannot consistently, as Unitarians, have any piety. We will try, then, to have it inconsistently.

VI. Great evils to the Church have come from the doctrine of the Trinity.

It has tended to the belief in three Gods. It has tended to a confusion of belief between three Gods of equal power and majesty, united only in counsel; one supreme and two inferior Deities; one Deity with a threefold manner of manifestation; and a vague, undetermined use of words, with no meaning attached to them—unhappy confusion, which none have been more ready to recognize and to point out than Trinitarians themselves.

And what shall we say of the continual struggles, conflicts, and bitter controversies, which this doctrine has caused from the time of its entrance into the Church? What is there more disgraceful in the history of the Church, than the mutual persecutions of Arians and Athanasians, and of all the minor sects and parties, engendered by this disputed doctrine?

This is what Dr. Bushnell says of one of these matters; and his testimony is, perhaps, sufficient on this point,—

“No man can assert three persons,—meaning three consciousnesses, wills, and understandings,—and still have any intelligent meaning in his mind, when he asserts that they are yet one person; for, as he now uses the term, the very idea of a person is that of an essential, incommunicable monad, bounded by consciousness, and vitalized by self-active will; which being true, he might as well profess to hold that three units are yet one unit. When he does it, his words will, of necessity, be only substitutes for sense.

“At the same time, there are too many signs of the mental confusion I speak of not to believe that it exists. Thus, if the class I speak of were to hear a discourse insisting on the proper personal Unity of God, it would awaken suspicion in their minds, while a discourse insisting on the existence of three persons would be only a certain proof of Orthodoxy; showing that they profess three persons, meaning what they profess, and one person, really not meaning it.

“Such is the confusion produced by attempting to assert a real and metaphysical Trinity of persons in the divine nature. Whether the word is taken at its full import, or diminished away to a mere something called a _distinction_, there is produced only contrariety, confusion, practical negation, not light.”

So far Dr. Bushnell. On another point thus testifies Twesten:—

“There are many to whom the biblical and religious basis of the doctrine is exceeding sure and precious, who are dissatisfied with the Church form of the doctrine, and even feel themselves repelled or fettered by it. It is to them more negative than positive, more opposed to errors than giving any insight into truth. It solves no difficulty, it unseals no new revelation.”

Twesten goes on to admit that the Trinity has really hemmed in the free movement of the mind, substituting a dead uniformity for a manifold and various life; and yet Twesten is a very strong and able Trinitarian.

VII. The doctrine of the Trinity is a doctrine of philosophy, and not of faith.

As philosophy, it might be ever so true and important; but, when brought forward as religion (as Dr. Huntington has done), it would become at once pernicious. To offer theology for religion, belief for faith, philosophy born of speculative reflection in place of spiritual insight and pious experience, have always been most deleterious both to religion and to philosophy.

The objects of faith are the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Through Christ we have access to the Father in the Spirit. We see the Father revealed to us in the Son; we feel the power of the Spirit in our hearts. This is religion; but this has nothing to do with the doctrine of the Trinity.

VIII. We can trace the gradual formation of the doctrine in the Christian Church.

The following facts we suppose to be incontrovertible:—

1. Down to the time of the synod of Nice (A.D. 325), the Son was considered to be subordinate, or inferior to the Father, by the great majority of writers and teachers in the Christian Church, and by the multitude of believers; and no doctrine of Trinity existed in the Church.

2. The _Nicene symbol_, which declared Christ to be “God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, of the same substance with the Father,”(95) was directed against the two Arian positions,—that Christ was created, and that there was a time when he did not exist; but it did not declare his equality with God the Father, nor teach the personality of the Holy Spirit, nor say anything of the Trinity.

3. The councils vacillated to and fro during three hundred years, gradually tending towards the present Church doctrine of the Trinity; thus,—

1. _Synod of Nice_ (A.D. 325) opposed the Arian doctrine of the creation of Christ out of nothing, and maintained that his substance was derived from that of God.

2. _Synod of Tyre_ (A.D. 335) favored the Arians, and deposed Athanasius.

3. _Council of Antioch_ (A.D. 343) opposed the views of the Arians, and also the views of their opponents.

4. _Council of Sardica_ (A.D. 344) resulted in a division between the Eastern and Western Churches—the East being semi-Arian, and the West, Athanasian—in their view of the nature of Christ.

5. The Western Church tending to Sabellianism (taught by Marcellus and his pupil Photinus), this view was condemned by two councils in the East and West, viz.:—

Second council of Antioch (A.D. 343).

Council of Milan (A.D. 346).

6. Constantius, an Arian emperor, endeavored to make the Western Churches accept the Arian doctrine, and, at two synods (A.D. 353 and 355, at Arelate and Mediolanum), compelled the bishops to sign the condemnation of Athanasius, deposing those who refused so to do.

7. The Arians, being thus dominant, immediately divided into Arians and Semi-Arians,—the distinction being the famous distinction between _o_ and _oi_. Both parties denied the _Homoousios_; but the Semi-Arians admitted the _Homoiousios_.

8. At the synod of Ancyra (A.D. 358), the Semi-Arian doctrine was adopted, and the Arian rejected. The third synod of Sirmium (A.D. 358) did the same thing.

9. Down to this time (A.D. 360), nothing was said about the Holy Spirit in its relation to the Trinity. The Emperor Valens, an Arian, persecuted the Athanasians from A.D. 364 to 378. Then Theodosius, an Athanasian emperor, persecuted the Arians. Semi-Arianism, however, continued Orthodox in the East.

10. The Nestorian controversy broke out A.D. 430. Council of Ephesus (A.D. 431) condemned Nestor. The Nestorians (who were Unitarians) separated entirely from the Church, and became the Church of the Persian empire.

11. The Monophysite controversy broke out. The council of Chalcedon (A.D. 451) decided that there were two natures in Christ; and the Monophysites separated, and formed the Coptic Church. Their formula was, that “God was crucified in Christ.” The Nestorians were too Unitarian, and the Monophysites too Athanasian. The Church decided (against the Nestorians) that Mary was God’s mother, but decided (against the Monophysites) that God was not crucified.

12. _First Lateran Council_ was called (in A.D. 640) to settle a new point. It having been decided that there were _two_ natures in Christ, it was now thought best by many to yield to the Monophysites—that there was only one will in Christ. Hence the Monotheletic controversy, finally settled at the,—

13. Sixth General Council (A.D. 680), when _two_ wills in Christ were accepted as the doctrine of the Church.

Thus it appears that it took the Church from A.D. 325 to A.D. 680 to settle the questions concerning the relation of Christ to God. During all this time, opinion vacillated between Arianism on the one hand and Sabellianism on the other. At the end of this period, the Church had become consolidated, and strong enough to compel submission to its opinions: but the relation of the Holy Spirit to the Trinity remained unsettled for several centuries more; and finally the Eastern Church separated altogether from the Western Church on this point. The whole Greek Church remains, to this day, separated from the Latin Church on a question belonging to this very doctrine of the Trinity. So much, then, for Dr. Huntington’s assertion, that the Trinity is a doctrine which can almost literally be said to have been believed “always, everywhere, and by all.”

IX. The doctrine of the Trinity is opposed to the real divinity of Christ and to his real humanity; thus undermining continually the faith of the Church in the divine humanity of Jesus Christ the Lord.

Our final and chief objection to the Trinity is, not that it makes Christ divine, but that it does _not_ make him so. It substitutes for the divinity of the Father, the Supreme God, which Unitarians believe to dwell in Christ, a subordinate divinity of God the Son. This is subordinate, because derived; and, because derived, dependent. The Son may be said to be “eternally generated;” but this is only an eternal derivation, and does not alter the dependence, but makes it also to be eternal. The tendency of the Church doctrine of the Trinity is always to a belief, not in the supreme divinity dwelling in Christ, but in a derived and secondary divinity.

How is it, for example, with the Nicene doctrine concerning Christ? Dr. Huntington claims Nice as Trinitarian. (p. 361.)

But what says Prof. Stuart concerning the Nicene doctrine? Listen.

“The Nicene symbol presents the Father as the Monas, or proper Godhead, in and of himself exclusively; it represents him as the _Fons et Principium_ of the Son, and therefore gives him superior power and glory. It does not even assert the claims of the blessed Spirit to Godhead, and therefore leaves room to doubt whether it means to recognize a Trinity, or only a Duality.” (Moses Stuart, Bib. Repos., 1835, quoted by Wilson, Trin. Test., p. 264.)

And how is it with the ante-Nicene fathers, whom Dr. Huntington also considers to be Trinitarian? else certainly his rule of “always, everywhere, and by all,” does not hold. If, for the first three hundred years after Christ, there were no Trinitarians, it cannot be said that the Trinity has “always” been held in the Church. Listen, again, to Prof. Stuart, whose learning no one can question.

“We find that all the Fathers before, at, and after the Council of Nice, who harmonize with the sentiments there avowed, declare the Father only to be the self-existent God.” (See the whole paragraph in Wilson, Trin. Test., p. 267.)

“To be the author of the proper substance of the Son and Spirit, according to the Patristical creed; or to be the author of the _modus existendi_ of the Son and Spirit, according to the modern creed,—both seem to involve _the idea of power and glory in the Father, immeasurably above that of the Son and Spirit_.” (Moses Stuart, Bib. Repos., 1835.)

So Coleridge asserts that “both Scripture and the Nicene Creed teach a subordination of the Son to the Father, independent of the incarnation of the Son.... Christ, speaking of himself as the coeternal Son, says, ‘My Father is greater than I.’ ” (Wilson, Trin. Test., p. 270.)

According to the Trinitarian doctrine, then, we do not find God—the Supreme God, our heavenly Father—in Christ; but a derived, subordinate, and inferior Deity. Not the one universal Parent do we approach, but some mysterious, derived, inscrutable Deity, less than the Father, and distinct from him. Do we not, then, lose the benefit and blessing of the divinity of Jesus? Can we believe him when be says, “He who has seen me has seen the Father?” No; we do not believe that, if we are Trinitarians; but rather, that, having seen him, we have seen “THE SON;” whom Coleridge declares to be an inferior Deity; over whom Bishop Pearson, in his “Exposition of the Creed,” says, the Father holds “preeminence,”—the Father being “the Origin, the Cause, the Author, the Root, the Fountain, the Head, of the Son.” The doctrine of the Trinity is therefore opposed, as Swedenborg ably contends, to the real divinity of Christ.(96)

But it is equally opposed to his real humanity. It constantly drives out of the Church the human element in Christ. Dr. Huntington is astonished at Unitarians not perceiving that the humanity of Christ is as dear to Trinitarians as his Deity; yet it cannot be denied, that the mysterious dogma of deity has quite overshadowed the simple human life of our dear Lord, so that the Church has failed to see the Son of man. All his highest human traits become unreal in the light of this doctrine of his deity. He is tempted; but that is unreal, for God cannot be tempted. He prays, “Our Father;” but this also is no real prayer, for he is omnipotent, and can need nothing. He encounters opposition, hatred, contumely, and bears it with sweetest composure; but what of that? since, as God, he looked down from an infinite height upon the puny opposition. He agonizes in the garden; but it is imaginary suffering: how can God feel any real agony, like man? Jesus ceases to be example, ceases to be our best beloved companion and brother, and becomes a mysterious personage, inscrutable to our thought, and far removed from our sympathy.

FOOTNOTES

1 The following passage, from an article in the “Independent,” by Henry Ward Beecher, is valuable, perhaps, as the testimony of one who has “summered it and wintered it” with Orthodoxy:—

“Does anybody inquire why, if so thinking, we occasionally give such sharp articles upon the great religious newspapers, ‘The Observer,’ ‘The Intelligencer,’ and the like? O, pray do not think it from any ill will. It is all kindness! We only do it to keep our voice in practice. We have made Orthodoxy a study. And by an attentive examination of ‘The Presbyterian,’ ‘The Observer,’ ‘The Puritan Recorder,’ and such like unblemished confessors, we have perceived that no man is truly sound who does not pitch into somebody that is not sound; and that a real modern orthodox man, like a nervous watch dog, must sit on the door-stone of his system, and bark incessantly at everything that comes in sight along the highway. And when there is nothing to bark at, either he must growl and gnaw his reserved bones, or bark at the moon to keep up the sonorousness of his voice. And so, for fear that the sweetness of our temper may lead men to think that we have no theologic zeal, we lift up in objurgation now and then—as much as to say, ‘Here we are, fierce and orthodox; ready to growl when we cannot bite.’ ”

2 Thus Theodore Parker (“Experience as a Minister”) speaks of a review of his “Discourse on Religion” in a Trinitarian work, which did it no injustice.

3 According to the “Chart of Religious Belief” in Johnston’s Physical Atlas, there are in the world 140,000,000 of Catholics, 70,000,000 of Protestants, 68,000,000 of the Greek Church, and 14,000,000 of minor creeds. _About_, in his “Question Romaine,” gives the Roman Church 139,000,000. He says, “The Roman Catholic Church, which I sincerely respect, is composed of 139,000,000 of individuals, not including the little Mortara.”

4 Mr. Taylor shows that the Church, A.D. 300, was essentially corrupt in doctrine and practice; that the Romish Church was rather an improvement on it; that Jerome, Ambrose, Gregory, and Athanasius are full of false doctrine; and that a Gnostic theology, a Pagan asceticism, and a corrupt morality prevailed in the Church in those early centuries.

5 Of course we do not mean to charge our Orthodox friends with believing in persecution. We only show that _if Orthodoxy is in the letter_, they _ought_, consequentially, to believe in persecution. No doubt Protestantism has put an end to persecution. When Luther came, all believed in persecution; now, no one does. This is because the Reformation contained a double principle: first, that we are saved by faith, not by sacraments, and that faith is the belief of doctrines; second, that to see them aright, we must use our own minds, and consequently seek for truth as the paramount duty of life. But in order to seek effectually, we must seek freely—hence the right of private judgment as against authority in Church and State. The last principle is that of toleration; the first is the principle of intolerance. The last has proved the stronger, because it rests on the logic of things, the other only on the logic of words.

6 Heb. 11:1.

7 Jacobi—whose words have been said to let the thoughts shine through, as wet clothes around the limbs allow the form to be seen—says that all knowledge begins with faith. Faith is, according to Jacobi, (1) a knowledge proceeding from immediate revelation; (2) knowledge which does not need, and cannot have, proofs; (3) much more certain knowledge than any derived from demonstration; (4) a perception of the super-sensual world; (5) A well-grounded and reliable prepossession in favor of certain truths; (6) a faith which sees, and a sight which believes; (7) a vision, an impenetrable mystery, a perception of the thing in itself.

8 See “Broken Lights,” p. 207, note.

9 A story is told of a clock, on one of the high cathedral towers of the older world, so constructed that at the close of a century it strikes the years as it ordinarily strikes the hours. As a hundred years come to a close, suddenly, in the immense mass of complicated mechanism, a little wheel turns, a pin slides into the appointed place, and in the shadows of the night the bell tolls a _requiem_ over the generations which during a century have lived, and labored, and been buried around it. One of these generations might live and die, and witness nothing peculiar. The clock would have what we call an established order of its own; but what should we say when, at the midnight which brought the century to a close, it sounded over the sleeping city, rousing all to listen to the world’s age? Would it be a violation of law? No; only a variation of the accustomed order, produced by the intervention of a force always existing, but never appearing in this way till the appointed moment had arrived. The tolling of the century would be a variation from the observed order of the clock; but to an artist, in constructing it, it would have formed a part of that order. So a miracle is a variation of the order of nature as it has appeared to us; but to the Author of nature it was a part of that predestined order—a part of that order of which he is at all times the immediate Author and Sustainer; miraculous to us, seen from our human point of view, but no miracle to God; to our circumscribed vision a violation of law, but to God only a part in the great plan and progress of the law of the universe.—_Ephraim Peabody._

10 Trench, “Notes on the Miracles of our Lord.”

11 We use the term “plenary inspiration” rather than “literal inspiration,” or “verbal inspiration,” for “_literal inspiration_” is a contradiction in terms, like “_bodily spirit_.”

12 Tholuck, in his Essay on the Doctrine of Inspiration, ascribes the origin of the belief in the infallibility of Scripture to this supposed need of an authoritative outward rule of faith among Protestants. He says, “In proportion as controversy, sharpened by Jesuitism, made the Protestant party sensible of the necessity of an externally fortified ground of combat, in that same proportion did Protestantism seek, by the exaltation of the outward authoritative character of the Sacred Writings, to recover that infallible authority which it had lost through its rejection of inspired councils and the infallible authority of the pope. In this manner arose, not earlier than the seventeenth century, those sentiments which regarded the Holy Scripture as the infallible production of the Divine Spirit,—in its entire contents and its very form,—so that not only the sense, but also the words, the letters, the Hebrew vowel points, and the very punctuation were regarded as proceeding from the Spirit of God.”—_Tholuck’s Essay—Noyes’s __“__Collection.__”_

13 The doctrine of the Roman Catholics, as stated by Moehler, a distinguished Roman Catholic, is as follows:—

“The doctrine of the Catholic Church on original sin is extremely simple, and may be reduced to the following propositions: Adam, by sin, lost his original justice and holiness, drew down on himself, by his disobedience, the displeasure and judgments of the Almighty, incurred the penalty of death, and thus, in all his parts,—in his body as well as soul,—became strangely deteriorated. Thus his sinful condition is transmitted to all his posterity as descended from him, entailing the consequence that man is, of himself, incapable—even with the aid of the most perfect ethical law offered to him from without (not excepting even the one in the Old Covenant)—to act in a manner agreeable to God, or in any other way to be justified before him, save only by the merits of Jesus Christ.”

The doctrine of the Church of England concerning original sin and free will is in its ninth and tenth articles, and declares that,—

“Original sin is ... the fault and corruption of the nature of every man, that naturally is engendered of the offspring of Adam; whereby man is very far gone from original righteousness, and is, of his own nature, inclined to evil, ... and therefore in every person born into the world it deserveth God’s wrath and damnation....

“The condition of man after the fall of Adam is such that he cannot turn and prepare himself by his own natural strength and good works to faith and calling upon God. Wherefore we have no power to do good works, pleasant and acceptable to God, without the grace of God by Christ preventing us, that we may have a good will, and working with us when we have that good will.”

The early Fathers took different views of the origin of sin. Tertullian ascribed it to human _impatience_. “Nunc ut compendio dictum sit, omne peccatum impatientiæ adscribendum.” (Tertul. _De Patien._ 5.) Origen thinks _laziness_ the cause of sin; sin is a negation—_not_ doing right. Justin Martyr ascribes the origin of sin to _sensuality_. Origen (after Philo) considered the story of the fall as an allegory, and a type of what takes place in all men.

14 See, in the Appendix, an examination of Professor Shedd’s article.

15 Ovid. Metam. 7:18.

“Si possem, sanior essem. Sed trahit invitam nova vis; aliudque cupido, Mens aliud suadet, video meliora, proboque, Deteriora sequor.”

See, also, the story, in the Cyropædia, of Araspes and his two souls.

16 See Dr. Cox’s Sermon on Regeneration, reviewed by Dr. Hodge, in “Essays and Reviews.”

17 Luther, in his “Table-talk,” says of his preaching against the pope, and the enormous labors it entailed, “If I had known then what I now know of the difficulty of the task, ten horses should not have drawn me to it.” “At that time Dr. Jerome withstood me, and said, ‘What will you do? They will not endure it.’ But said I, ‘What if they _must_ endure it?’ ”

18 See Raumer, “Geschichte Europas,” zweiter Band.

19 God in Christ, by Horace Bushnell, p. 193, &c.

20 Heb. 2:9, 17, 18. 4:15. 5:8, 9.

21 No sooner was Socrates dead than he rose to be the chief figure in Greek history. What are Miltiades, Pericles, or Alcibiades to him? Twenty years after Joan of Arc was burned by a decree of the Roman Catholic Church, the same Church called a council to reconsider and reverse her sentence. Twenty years after the death of Savonarola, Rafaelle painted his portrait among the great doctors, fathers, and saints in the halls of the Vatican. Within a few years after John Brown was hanged, half a million of soldiers marched through the South chanting his name in their songs. Abraham Lincoln was killed, and he is now the most influential figure in our history.

22 “Doctrinal Attitude of Old School Presbyterians.” By Lyman B. Atwater, Professor of Mental and Moral Philosophy in Princeton College. Bibliotheca Sacra, January, 1864.

23 “The Old School in New England Theology.” By Professor Lawrence, of East Windsor. Bibliotheca Sacra, April, 1863.

24 “Doctrines of the New School Presbyterians.” By Rev. George Duffield, D. D., of Detroit. Bibliotheca Sacra, July, 1863.

25 “Hopkinsianism.” By Rev. Enoch Pond, D. D., Professor in Bangor Theological Seminary. Bibliotheca Sacra, July, 1862.

26 “Doctrines of Methodism.” By Rev. Dr. Whedon. Bibliotheca Sacra, April, 1862.

27 “Theologische Zeitscrift.” Herausgegeben von Dr. Friedr. Schleiermacher, Dr. W. M. L. DeWette, und Dr. Friedr. Lücke. Erstes Heft, Berlin, 1819. _Ueber die Lehre von der Erwählung._

28 Rom. 11:29. “The gifts and callings of God are without repentance.” By this we understand the apostle to mean the same thing as is implied in Ecclesiastes (3:14): “I know that what God doeth, it is forever.” God, having chosen the Jews for a work, will continue to them the gifts, and will see that somehow or other, some time or other, the work is done.

29 A person who never had an intellectual doubt concerning a future life may be so poorly provided with an inward sense of immortality that he may never feel quite willing to die, or confident in view of death. Such a man was Dr. Johnson, who had not the least scepticism; who was a dogmatic believer, and hated a heretic; who, yet, never attained to any sort of comfort in view of death, and was always afraid to die. So there may be another person who may have no intellectual belief in a future life, but who will have the instinct of immortality so strong as to be quite easy and happy in looking forward to death. Such a person is Miss Martineau, who, in consequence of a poor philosophy of _materialism_ which she was taught in her childhood, and has always held, has been brought very logically at last to disbelieve immortality, and even the existence of God, and yet is very contented about it, and quite happy.

30 “Nescio, quomodo, dum lego, assentior; cum posui librum, et mecum ipse de immortalitate animorum cœpi cogitare, assensio omnis illa illabitur.”

31 Thus it is said, “In Christ shall all be made alive.” The meaning is, that when we live in reference to God, to immortal truth, to the infinite law of right,—when we really love anything out of ourselves,—we lose all fear of death. “Perfect love casts out fear;” that is, pure love. The love of a mother for a child casts out fear. She is not afraid of death; she will run the risk of death twenty times over to save her child. The immortal element is aroused in her. The soldier is roused by the general’s fiery speech to a thrill of patriotism, and thinks it sweet and beautiful to die for his country. Love of his country has cast out his fear. This is something more than any mere insensibility. Men can harden themselves against danger and death; they can think of something else. But that insensibility is merely a thick shell put round it—a sevenfold shield perhaps; but the mortal fear lies hidden all the same within. True life is very different.

32 The word here rendered ABOLISHED is elsewhere translated “destroyed,” “made void,” “made of none effect,” “brought to nothing,” “vanished away,” “done away,” “put down.” The meaning is, that all its force, importance, value, is taken out of it.

33 “The State of the Impenitent Dead. By Alvah Hovey, D. D.” Boston, 1859.

34 For ἵνα before a defining clause, see John 6:29; 4:34; 1 John 3:11, 23; 4:21; 2 John 6.

35 Die Bestimmung des Menschen. Berlin, 1800.

36 In addition to the extracts from Professor Hovey, Meyer, Lücke, and De Wette, the following passages from F. D. Maurice (“Theological Essays”) are interesting, as showing a concurrence of testimony from yet another quarter to the thesis of this section:—

“When any one ventures to say to an English audience, that eternity is not a mere negation of time, that it denotes something real, substantial, before all time, he is told at once that he is departing from the simple, intelligible meaning of words; that he is introducing novelties; that he is talking abstractions. This language is perfectly honest in the mouths of those who use it. But they do not know where they learned it. They did not get it from peasants, or women, or children. They did not get it from the Bible. They got it from Locke. And if I find that I cannot interpret the language and thoughts of peasants, and women, and children, and that I cannot interpret the plainest passages of the Bible, or the whole context of it, while I look through the Locke spectacles, I must cast them aside....

“Suppose, instead of taking this method of asserting the truth of all God’s words, the most blessed and the most tremendous, we reject the wisdom of our forefathers, and enact an article declaring that all are heretics, and deniers of the truth, who do not hold that eternal means endless, and that there cannot be a deliverance from eternal punishment. What is the consequence? Simply this, I believe: the whole gospel of God is set aside. The state of eternal life and eternal death is not one we can refer only to the future, or that we can in any wise identify with the future. Every man who knows what it is to have been in a state of sin, knows what it is to have been in a state of death. He cannot connect that death with time; he must say that Christ has brought him out of the bonds of _eternal_ death. Throw that idea into the future and you deprive it of all its reality, of all its power. I know what it means all too well while you let me connect it with my present and personal being, with the pangs of conscience which I suffer now. It becomes a mere vague dream and shadow to me when you project it into a distant world. And if you take from me the belief that God is always righteous, always maintaining a fight with evil, always seeking to bring his creatures out of it, you take everything from me—all hope now, all hope in the world to come. Atonement, redemption, satisfaction, regeneration, become mere words, to which there is no counterpart in reality.”

37 In the German Bible we have the true word—“Auferstehung.”

38 So De Wette, Kurzgefasstes exegetisches Handbuch zum N. T., ad locum.

39 So Schleusner, Lexicon in LXX.

40 So Usteri (Paulinischen Lehrbegriff) says that σάλπινξ appears to denote partly the startling power of the truth, and partly its power of calling men together from all the regions of the earth.

41 Christ only comes when he comes to reign. His first coming was as Jesus, not as Christ. The human life is “the life of Jesus.” Christian history is “the life of Christ.” In his earthly life he was Prophet; in his death he was Priest; in his resurrection, or risen state, he was King.

42 The book of the Revelation of John is the account of Christ’s coming; and the true interpretation of that book depends on the proper understanding of his coming. If Christ’s coming began at the destruction of Jerusalem, and has continued in all the developments of human history, then the key to “the Revelation” is to be found in the progress of Christian principles and ideas in the world. Bertholdt (Christologia Judæorum Jesu Apostolorumque ætate), note to § 11, quotes from the Sepher Ikkarim this passage—“The future age will come _gradually_ to men after the day of the great judgment, which will take place after the resurrection.” Resurrection and judgment both come with Jesus, and his were “the last days.”

43 1 Thess. 4:17. “We, who are alive, and remain, shall be caught up together with them, in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air.” Usteri (Paul. Lehrbeg.) says that “this εἰς ἀέρα has no analogy in any other passage of the Epistles, or indeed of the New Testament.” But Paul outgrew this literalism, and in his later Epistles speaks of sitting already with Christ in “heavenly places.”

44 Olshausen, an Orthodox commentator, speaks thus in regard to Christ’s predictions concerning his coming, in Matt. ch. 24, 25:—

“One of the most striking examples of the binding of the present and future in one narrative, and one which presents many difficulties, is to be found in these passages. Plain descriptions of the impending destruction of Jerusalem and of the Jewish state blend with no less apparent descriptions of the coming of Christ in his kingdom. It cannot be denied that the Orthodox interpreters are far less natural and unforced than the others, in their treatment of this passage. Their dogmatic views lead them to put apart from each other elements which are blended together by Matthew and by the other evangelists. For example, Schott says, that the description of Christ’s coming begins (Matt. 24:29) immediately after ‘the tribulation,’ &c., and that all before that belongs to the destruction of Jerusalem. But apart from the impossibility of regarding the 29th verse as the beginning of something entirely new, there are also in the passages which follow distinct references to the present generation (verse 34), and in the first part as distinct references to ‘the last time.’ We do not, therefore scruple (says Olshausen) to accept the simple explanation which alone suits the text, that Christ speaks of his coming as coincident with the destruction of Jerusalem, and with the downfall of the Jewish state.”

The most interesting question, perhaps, is as to the opinions of Jesus _himself_ about his coming. That he forsaw the overthrow of Jerusalem and the Temple is certain. Everything indicates that he possessed a marvellous power of reading the future in the present, and saw in the condition of the Jewish mind the inevitable overthrow of their state. He also saw that through his death all men should be brought to him, and that he should become King in the way in which he described to Pilate his royalty, i.e., King of the truth. All who love the truth shall, sooner or later, obey his voice. In what way, then, did he expect to come? In the way he himself indicates the coming of his kingdom—like leaven, working secretly in the dough; like seed, sprouting mysteriously in the ground; like lightning, seen everywhere at once. By these images alone could he convey to his disciples his ideas. He longed to tell them many things more, but they were not able; to bear them.

45 The difficulties (of which Olshausen and other candid Orthodox interpreters speak) in harmonizing the different parts of Matthew’s two chapters (24 and 25) about Christ’s coming and judgment, may perhaps be relieved in some such way as this. (1.) The end of the Mosaic age and the beginning of the Messianic age are fixed at the destruction of Jerusalem. (2.) Christ’s coming begins there, and continues through Christian history, till all mankind are Christians. His coming, therefore, verifies what Schiller says of truth, that it “_nimmer ist, immer wird_.” (3.) Whenever he comes, he judges men according to the state of mind in which they are. (4.) The three parables (virgins, talents, king on his throne) represent the judgment of three different classes. The first class (of wise and foolish virgins) are those who _are not yet converted_, and have not become disciples of Christ. When he comes, those of them who have oil in their lamps—or who receive truth into an honest heart (Luke 8:15)—are ready to receive him, and to become Christians; those who have no oil reject him. The second class (in the talents) are Christians, who receive more or less of power and of good, according to past fidelity. The third class (the “nations ”) are the heathen, and others, who have never known of Christ at all, but are Christians outside of Christianity.

46 The latest illustration of Orthodox ideas on this subject we have met with is contained in a little tract which has fallen in our way, containing “extracts from a sermon addressed to the students in the United Presbyterian Theological Seminary of Xenia, Ohio, by Rev. William Davidson.” It begins in this somewhat enigmatical way:—

“It is an unspeakably terrible thing for any one—for even a youth or a heathen—to be _lost_.”

Why this limiting particle “even” is introduced is not explained. It seems to be implied either that a youth and a heathen have not as much to lose as others, or else that we are not bound to feel so much for their loss as for that of others. After a little poetry (which we omit, as it is altogether too stern a matter for any sentimental ornament), Mr. Davidson proceeds:—

“Nor is this all to those who suffer _least_. It is not only the loss of all, and a horrible lake of ever-burning fire, but there are _horrible objects_, filling every sense and every faculty; and there are _horrible engines and instruments of torture_. There are the ‘chains of darkness,’ thick, heavy, hard, and smothering as the gloom of blank and black despair—chains strong as the cords of omnipotence, hot as the crisping flames of vengeance, indestructible and eternal as justice. With chains like these, every iron link burning into the throbbing heart, is bound each doomed, damned soul, on a bed of burning marl, under an iron roof, riven with tempests, and dripping with torrents of unquenchable fire.”

The object of the preacher being to make as terrific a picture as possible, he accumulates these material images of bodily torment in order to excite the imagination to the utmost. We can conceive of his writing these sentences carefully in his comfortable study, in an easy chair, by the side of a cheerful fire, with a smile of self-complacency, as he selects each striking expression. Then he proceeds:—

“Nor is this all. Unmortified appetites, hungry as death, insatiable as the grave, torture it. Every passion burning, an unsealed volcano in the heart. Every base lust a tiger unchained—a worm undying, let loose to prey on soul and body. Pride, vanity, envy, shame, treachery, deceit, falsehood, fell revenge, and black despair, malice, and every unholy emotion, are so many springs of excruciating and ever-increasing agonies, are so many hot and stifling winds, tossing the swooning, sweltering soul on waves of fire. And there will be deadly hunger, but no food; parching thirst, but no water; eternal fatigue, but no rest; eternal lust of sensuous and intellectual pleasures, but no gratification. And there will be _terrible companions_, or rather _foes_, there. Eternal longings after society, but no companion, no love, and no sympathy there. Every one utterly selfish, hateful, and hating. Every one cunning, false, malignant, fierce, fell, and devilish. All commingle in the confusion and the carnage of one wide-spread, pitiless, truceless, desperate strife. And there will be terrible sights and sounds there. Fathers and sons, pastors and people, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, with swollen veins and bloodshot eyes, straining towards each other’s throats and hearts, reprobate men, and devils in form and features, hideous to as great a degree as are the beauties of the blest in heaven beautiful. And there are groans and curses, and everlasting wailings, as harsh and horrible as heaven’s songs, shouts, and anthems are sweet, joyous, and enrapturing. And there will be terrible displays of the divine power and skill, and infinitely awful displays of merciless and omnipotent justice, in the punishment of that rebel crew, that generation of moral vipers full grown, that congregation of moral monsters.”

All this, however, is not enough. It is necessary to go further, and represent God in the character of the devil, in order to complete the picture.

“Upon such an assembly, God, who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity, cannot look but with utter detestation. His wrath shall come up in his face. His face shall be red in his anger. He will whet his glittering sword, and his hand shall take hold on vengeance; and he shall recompense. He shall launch forth his lightnings, and shoot abroad his arrows. He shall unseal all his fountains, and pour out his tumbling cataracts of vengeance. He shall build his batteries aloft, and thunder upon them from the heavens. His eye shall not pity them, nor shall his soul spare for their crying. The day of vengeance is in his heart, and it is what he has his heart set on. He will delight in it. He will show his wrath, and _make his power known_. That infinite power has never been fully made known yet; but it will be then. It is but a little that we see of it in creation and providence; but we shall see it, fully revealed, in the destruction of that rebel crew. He will tread them in his anger, and trample them in his fury, and will stain his raiment with their blood. The cup of the wine of his fierce wrath shall contain no mixture of mercy at all. And they will not be able to resist that wrath, nor will they be able to endure it; but they shall, in soul and body, sink wholly down into the _second death_. The iron heel of omnipotent and triumphing justice, pitiless and rejoicing, shall tread them down, and crush them lower still, and lower ever, in that burning pit which knows no bottom. All this, and more and worse, do the Scriptures declare; and that preacher who hesitates to proclaim it has forsworn his soul, and is a traitor to his trust.”

Now, it is simple truth to say that the blasphemer and profane swearer who spends fifty years in cursing God and Christ is not so blasphemous as the man who writes such sentences as these about the Almighty, and utters them to young men as a preparation for their work in the ministry. The people of Sodom and Gomorrah shall rise up in the day of judgment against those who speak thus of God, and shall condemn them. The Pagans, who represent their gods as horrid idols, pleased with blood and slaughter, have an excuse, which Mr. Davidson has not, for they do not have the gospel of the Lord Jesus in their hands. Thus he continues:—

“And _all this shall be forever_. It shall never, never end. (Matt. ch. 25.) The wicked go away into everlasting torments. This is a bitter ingredient in their cup of wormwood, a more terrible thing in their terrible doom. If after enduring it all for twice ten thousand times ten thousand years, they might have a deliverance, or at least some abatement, it were less terrible. But this may never, never be. Their estate is remediless. There is a great gulf fixed, and they cannot pass from thence. Or, if after suffering all this as many years as there are aqueous particles in air and ocean, they might then be delivered, or if, after repeating that amazing period as many times as there are sand-grains in the globe, they might then be delivered, there would be _some_ hope. Or, if you multiply this latter sum—too infinite to be expressed by figures, and too limitless to be comprehended by angels—by the number of atoms that compose the universe, and there might be deliverance when they had passed those amazing, abysmal gulfs of duration, then there would be _some_ hope. But no! when all is suffered and all is past, still all beyond is eternity.”

47 To show how some _Roman Catholics_ write in the middle of the nineteenth century, we quote the following from a Roman Catholic book, published in England, by Rev. J. Furniss, being especially “a book for children.” Wishing to spare our readers such horrors, we put it here, advising no one of weak nerves to read its atrocious descriptions.

“The fourth dungeon is ‘the boiling kettle.’ Listen: there is a sound like that of a kettle boiling. Is it really a kettle which is boiling? No. Then what is it? Hear what it is. The blood is boiling in the scalded veins of that boy; the brain is boiling and bubbling in his head; the marrow is boiling in his bones. The fifth dungeon is the ‘red-hot oven,’ in which is a _little child_. Hear how it screams to come out; see how it turns and twists itself about in the fire; it beats its head against the roof of the oven. It stamps its little feet on the floor of the oven. To this child God was very good. Very likely God saw that this child would get worse and worse, and would never repent, and so it would have to be punished _much more_ in hell. _So God in his mercy called it out of the world in its early childhood._”

48 We take the following from the “Monthly Religious Magazine:”—

“The ‘Country Parson,’ in his late work, the ‘Autumn Holidays,’ contends that the fear of future punishment in another world has little influence in deterring from crime. He ought to have added, that the reason may be, that there is so little belief in any spiritual world whatever, among men of grosser sensuality; and that future punishment, as it is preached in the old theology, is so arbitrary as to seem unreal, and is losing its power over all thinking minds. The following case is cited from the experience of a Scotch minister. No ministers, let it be remembered, preach the literal flames of a local hell in tones more awful than they.

“His parishioners were sadly addicted to drinking to excess. Men and women were given alike to this degrading vice. He did all he could to repress it, but in vain. For many years he warned the drunkards, in the most solemn manner, of the doom they might expect in another world; but, so far as he knew, not a pot of ale or glass of spirits the less was drunk in the parish in consequence of his denunciations. Future woe melted into mist in the presence of a replenished jug or a market-day. A happy thought struck the clergyman. In the neighboring town, there was a clever medical man, a vehement teetotaler; him he summoned to his aid. The doctor came, and delivered a lecture on the _physical_ consequences of drunkenness, illustrating his lecture with large diagrams, which gave shocking representations of the stomach, lungs, heart, and other vital organs as affected by alcohol. These things came home to the drunkards, who had not cared a rush for final perdition. The effect produced was tremendous. Almost all the men and women of the parish took the total abstinence pledge; and since that day drunkenness has nearly ceased in that parish. Nor was the improvement evanescent; it has lasted two or three years.”

49 So Erigena (quoted by Strauss), _De Divis Nat._ “Vera ratio docet, nullum contrarium divinæ bonitati vitæque ac beatitudini posse esse coeternum; divina siquidem bonitas consumet malitiam, æterna vita absorbet mortem, beatitudo miseriam.”

50 The name given to them by Augustine (“Civ. Dei,” lib. 21, c. 17): “Denique hujus sententiæ Patronos S. Augustinus appellat titulo non incongruo, ‘Doctores Misericordes’ tractatque non inhumaniter.” Thomas Burnet, “De Statu Mortuum et Resurgentium.” Chap. XI.

51 See Bretschneider, “Dogmatik,” and Strauss, “Christliche Glaubenslehre.”

52 “Nos et angelos futuros dæmones si egerimus negligenter; et rursum dæmones, si voluerint capere virtutes, pervenire ad angelicam dignitatem.” Origen, quoted by Jerome.

53 “Nihil enim omnipotenti impossibile est, nec insanabile aliquid est factori suo.”

54 “Quod tamen non ad subitum fieri, sed paulatim et per partes intelligen dum est, infinitis et immensis labentibus sæculis, cum sensim per singulos emendatio fuerit et correctio prosecuta, præcurrentibus aliis, aliis insequentibus.” See these quotations in Strauss, Hase, &c.

55 Matt. 25:46. The Greek word translated in the English as “everlasting” punishment in the beginning of the verse, and as life “eternal” at the end, is the same word (ἀιώνιος) in both places, and should be translated “eternal” in both.

_ 56 Remorse_—from _mordeo_, to gnaw. So St. Thomas (Summa, Pars III. 2, 97): “Vermis non debet esse intelligi corporalis sed spiritualis, qui est con scientiæ remorsus.”

57 “Pauci res ipsas, sed rerum imagines, tanquam in speculo, intuentur: at res ipsas, facie ad faciem, ut dicitur, et ablato velo, visuri sumus tandem si Deo placuerit, partim sub occasu hujusee mundi, plenius autem in futuro.”—_Thomas Burnet_, De Statu Mortuorum et Resurgentium Tractatus. Londini. Typis et impensis J. Hooke, in vico vulgò dicto _Fleet Street_, 1737.—No one has spoken more powerfully and eloquently than he against everlasting punishment, particularly in the passage beginning “Nobis difficile est omnem exuere humanitatem.” p. 309.

58 Is it not remarkable (as showing how little the New Testament has as yet been really studied) that there should be so many discussions as to the future doom of _the heathen_, when Jesus himself here distinctly tells us what it will be. The word ἔθνη is the only word in the New Testament which is ever translated _heathen_: wherever the word _heathen_ occurs in our Bible, it is always this. Jesus teaches that the heathen (inside and outside of Christendom) will be judged _according to their humanity_, their obedience to the law written in their hearts; and he shows that this is coincident with the law of Christianity. So, when the Church of England says (in its 18th article) that “they also are to be had accursed that presume to say that every man shall be saved by the law or sect he professeth, so that he be diligent to frame his life according to that law and the light of nature;” it denounces this curse on Christ himself, and thus proves conclusively that it is not speaking by the Spirit of God, since “no man, speaking by the Spirit of God, calleth Jesus accursed.” (1 Cor. 12:3) This comes of the habit (happily less common now than formerly) of throwing about curses at random, against those who differ from our opinions. Some of them may thus, accidentally, hit the Master himself. It is, perhaps, of less consequence that this anathema also touches the apostle Paul, who declares that the heathen who have not the law are a law to themselves when they do right, and are absolved by their conscience. (Rom. 2:14.)

59 Origen, Homil. in Levit. 7:2. “Salvator meus luget etiam nunc peccata mea; Salvator meus lætari non potest, donec ego in iniquitate permaneo. Non vult solus in regno Dei bibere vinum lætitiæ—nos expectat.”

60 Guericke, Christ. Symbolik, § 70.

61 “Ecclesia enim est cœtus hominum ita visibilis et palpabilis ut est cœtus populi Romani, vel regnum Galliæ, aut respublica Venetorum.” Bellarmin. Eccles. Milit. c. 2.

62 Moehler, Symbolism, § 36.

63 “Bonos et malos ad ecclesiam pertinere Catholica fides vere et constante affirmat.” Cat. Rom.

64 The chief passage in proof of this, as is well known, is Matt. 16:18, 19 “Thou art Peter,” &c. But even Augustine, the great light of the Latin Church, says that “Peter was not the Rock, but Christ was the Rock.” (Neander, vol. ii. p. 168.) The same power was given to the other apostles. Matt. 18:18. John 20:23. Rev. 21:14.

65 Le Protestantisme Libéral par le Pasteur Bost. Paris, Baillière, 1865.

66 “Il est de fait que le Catholicisme, qui est essentiellement un principe d’authorité, ne sait pas dire où reside cette authorité.”

67 “Thirty-nine Articles, art. xix.” So Augs. Conf. art. 7: “Congregatio sanctorum, in qua evangelium recte docetur, et recte administrantur sacramenta.” But it may be asked, Who is to decide on the “_recte_”?

68 In the remarkable work “Ecce Homo”.

69 Tholuck, in his charming work on the Sermon on the Mount, speaks thus (“_Bergpredigt Christ. von A. Tholuck._”) “Two principal defects are found in the usual treatment of this doctrine: first, the different aspects and relations of the kingdom of God are by many considered as different _meanings_ of the word, and are left standing side by side, without any attempt to ground their unity in some fundamental idea. Or, secondly, and still worse, a single aspect of the term is taken up, and the rest are wholly neglected. Examples of the first defect are to be found in Zwingle, in his note to John 3:3. (Here the kingdom of God is considered as divine doctrine and preaching of the gospel, as in Luke 18; sometimes it is taken for eternal life, Matt. 25; Luke 14; sometimes for the church and congregation of the faithful, as Matt. 13:24.) The later lexicographers, as Schleusner and Bretschneider, have not avoided these vague statements; and the last of them is particularly defective in his article on this phrase. Trahl more correctly sums up all these significations of the word thus: ‘Happiness, present and future, obtained through Christ.’ But in this definition the notion of ‘a kingdom’ is omitted. The opposite defect of taking only one of the meanings of the matter, to the neglect of the rest, is to be found, for example, in Koppe and Keil, according to whom the expression relates merely to the future reign of the Messiah one day to be established.

“Our own explanation of this expression starts from the phrase ‘kingdom of God,’ which explains the others, ‘kingdom of heaven’ and ‘kingdom of Christ.’ We think that the fundamental idea has been grasped by none more correctly than by Origen among the ancients, and by Calvin among the reformers. The phase of the idea principally dwelt upon by the Church Fathers may be seen in their explanation of the third petition of the Lord’s Prayer, which Augustine especially examines profoundly. Most of them understand by it the realm of glory, the future revelation of Christ. Origen alone, in his book on Prayer, taken a more exact view of the subject. In like manner Calvin, in his Commentary on the Harmony. So Luther, in his fine Sermon on the Kingdom of God. Our own fundamental view we express thus: ‘A community in which God reigns, not by force, but by being obeyed freely from love, and which is therefore necessarily united in itself by mutual love.’ The Saviour came upon the earth to found such a community, and since it can only be completely established after he has conquered all his enemies, this kingdom of Christ belongs in its perfection to the other world.”

70 An eminent and learned gentleman told me of this conversation which he had with a Roman priest: “When the wine of the Eucharist is consecrated, it becomes the real blood of Christ—does it not?” Priest, “It does.” “What, then, do you do with that which remains in the cup, after communion?” Priest, “We drink it.” “Does not some adhere to the glass?” Priest, “Yes; but we wash the glass.” “What do you do with the water?” Priest, “We drink it.” “But must there not yet remain, on the napkin, with which you wipe the glass, some portion of the blood of Christ, even though it be an infinitesimal portion?” Priest, “Yes.” “Then, might it not happen that when the napkin is washed, this portion of Christ’s blood may go into the water, and be poured on the ground, and be taken up by the root of a plant—say a cabbage. Would, then, the flesh of that cabbage contain, or would it not a portion of the blood of Christ?”

71 See, in the New York “Independent,” June 9, 1866, the account of the “Recognition of Congregational Churches in Philadelphia,” where the existence of this principle is admitted and defended by some eminent Congregational ministers; admitted and deplored by others.

72 Twesten, “Vorlesungen,” &c., vol ii., p. 216. He adds to this definition its Latin form, in which the words “certain characteristics” stand “certis characteribus hypostaticis.”

73 Quoted by Schleiermacher, “Glaubenslehre,” § 170.

74 See the full discussions of these terms in Twesten (as above), Hase, “Christl. Glaubenslehre,” § 56. Strauss, “Christl. Glaubenslehre,” vol. i. Hase, “Dogmatik,” &c.

75 Dogmatik, § 239.

76 Augustine (de Trinit.), says, “One life in man, but three faculties—memory, intelligence, will.” But how if this is bad psychology?

77 Erigena, “The Father in the soul, the Son in the reason, the Spirit in the sense—this makes the most luminous illustration.”

78 Abelard (quoted by Strauss).

79 Richard St. Victor (quoted by Hase), “There can be no possible communion of affection between a less number than three persons.” So Augustine, “Cum aliquid amo, tria sunt—_ego_, et _quod_ amo, et ipse _amor_.” Such illustrations are hardly satisfactory at the present day. Poiret says the Father is “_Deus a se_,” the Son is “_Deus ex se_,” the Holy Spirit “_Deus ad se refluens_.” Angelus Silecius makes the Trinity a divine kiss. “God kisses himself—the Father kisses, the Son is kissed, the Spirit is the kiss.”

80 Translated from the Latin in Hagenbach (Compend of the History of Doctrines, vol. i. p. 289). We agree with Strauss, who says, “Fürwahr, wer das _Symbolum Quidcunque_ beschworen hatte, der hatte die Gesetze des menschlichen Denkens abgeschworen.” So the Pastor Bost (Le Protestantisme Liberal), after giving the Creed, in a somewhat different form, adds, “ubi insana faciunt, mysterium appellant.”

81 “Incomprehensible,” Church of England Liturgy.

82 Or “each person by himself.” The word in the Latin is “sigillatim,” a word not in most of the dictionaries, but in some of them made equivalent to “singulatim.”

83 Tertullian said, we can call Christ “God” when we speak of him alone; but if we mention him with the Father, then we must call the Father “God,” and call Christ only “Lord.” “For a ray of light shining into a room, we may call the sun shining there; but if we speak of the sun at the same time, then we must distinguish the ray, and call it not sun, but sunbeam.”

84 The decrees of the Council of Nice inclined to Sabellianism. The term ὁμοούσιος (_of the same essence_) was a Sabellian term. Sabellianism could, in fact, stand most of the tests of modern Orthodoxy, since it maintains _three persons and one essence_, μίαν ὑπόστασιν and τρία πρόσωπα; and Schleiermacher, in one of his most elaborate treatises (Ueber den Gegensatz zwischen der Sabellianischen und der Athanasianischen Vorstellung von der Trinitat. Theolog. Zeitschrift. Berlin, 1822), has sought to rehabilitate Sabellianism. Moses Stuart translated this treatise, and plainly advocated a similar view. Hase (Kirchengeschichte, § 91) defines the view of Sabellius as making “Father, Son, and Spirit the different forms of revelation of the Supreme Unity unfolding itself in the world history as the Triad.” Perhaps (see Baur) the chief peculiarity of Sabellius is in making the Triad begin and end with the process of revelation. The Monad is God in himself: the Triad is God in the process of self-revelation (Baur, “Christliche Lehre von der Dreieinigkeit,” and “Lehrbuch der Christlichen Dogmengeschichte”).

85 “Dictum est tamen tres personæ, non ut illud diceretur, sed ut ne taceretur.” Aug. de. Trin., quoted by Hase, Dog. § 238.

86 John of Damascus (quoted by Twesten) made his boast of Christianity, that it united what was true in Polytheism with what was true in Judaism. “From the Jews,” he says, “we have the oneness of nature, from the Greeks the distinction in hypostases.”

87 The substance of what follows in this section, appeared in the “Christian Examiner.”

88 The _nature_ by which the heathen “do the things contained in the law,” i.e., obey God, which is here (Rom. 2:15) called “the law written in the heart,” is in Rom. 7:23 called the “law of the mind.” Olshausen (a sufficiently Orthodox commentator), says, “It is wholly false to understand ὅταν ποιῆ of a mere ideal _possibility_; the apostle speaks evidently of a real and actual obedience. Paul infers that, because there are actually pious heathen, they must have a law which they obey.” _Ad locum._

89 We have no room to enter into an examination of this question at this time, and can only give a general statement on this subject from one of the authorities which happens to be at hand:—

“_All_ the Fathers” (before Augustine, fourth and fifth century) “differed from Augustine in attributing freedom of will to man in his present state. Thus Justin: ‘Every created being is so constituted as to be capable of vice or virtue.’ Cyril of Jerusalem: ‘Know that thou hast a soul possessed of free will; for thou dost not sin by birth (κατὰ γένεσιν), nor by fortune, but we sin by free choice.’ _All_ the Latin Fathers also maintained that free will was not lost after the fall. The Fathers also denied in part, that man is born infected with Adam’s sin. Thus Athenagoras says in his Apology, ‘Man is in a good state, not only in respect to his Creator, but also in respect to his natural generation.’ ”—Wiggers, _Augustinism and Pelagianism_. Translated by Rev. Ralph Emerson, Professor in the Theological Seminary, Andover, Mass.

90 “Abi ad Jordonum, et Trinitatem disce,” was on early notion.

91 Dr. Horace Bushnell, a favorite authority with Dr. Huntington, whom Dr. Huntington quotes largely, and whose views he earnestly recommends, gives us his testimony to this point, thus (“God in Christ,” pp. 130, 131):—

“A very large portion of Christian teachers, together with the general mass of disciples, undoubtedly hold three real living persons in the interior nature of God; that is, three consciousnesses, wills, hearts, understandings.”

“_A very large portion of Christian teachers_” hold, then, to a belief in three Gods; and with them is joined “_the general mass of the disciples_.” The only Unity held by these teachers is, he goes on to say, “a social Unity.” Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are, in their view, socially united only, and preside in that way, as a kind of celestial Tritheocracy, over the world. This heresy, he says, “because of its clear opposition to Unitarianism, is counted safe, and never treated as a heresy.” That is, the Christian Church allows the belief in _three Gods_, and will not discipline those who hold that opinion; but, if you believe strictly and only in _one God_, you cannot be saved!

92 Dr. Bushnell goes on to say (p. 133), “While the Unity is thus confused and lost in the threeness, perhaps I should admit that the threeness sometimes appears to be clouded or obscured by the Unity. Thus it is sometimes protested, that in the word, ‘person’ nothing is meant beyond a threefold distinction; though it will always be observed, that nothing is really meant by the protestation; that the protester goes on to speak and to reason of the three, not as being only somewhats or distinctions, but as metaphysical and real persons.... Indeed, it is a somewhat curious fact in theology, that the class of teachers who protest over the word ‘person,’ declaring that they mean only a _threefold distinction_, cannot show that there is really a hair’s breadth of difference between their doctrine and the doctrine asserted by many of the later Unitarians.”

93 “It has often been asserted _and admitted_,” says Tweaten, one of the strongest of modern Trinitarians, “that even the principal notions about which the Church doctrine turns are foreign to the New Testament; as οὐσία and ὑπόστασις, τρόπος ὑπάρξεως and ἀποκαλύψεως, τριάς and ὁμοούσια.”(Twesten: Dogmatik, vol. ii. p. 281.)

94 “Who will venture to say that any of the definitions heretofore given of personality in the Godhead, in Itself considered,—such definitions as have their basis in the Nicene or Athanasian Creed,—are intelligible and satisfactory to the mind? At least, I can truly say, that I have not been able to find them, if they do in fact exist; nor, so far as I know, has any one been able, by any commentary on them, to make them clear and satisfactory.” (Prof. Stuart, Biblical Repository, April, 1835. See Wilson, Trin. Test., p. 272.)

95 See the creed in Hagenbach (History of Doct., vol. i. p. 208): “Θεος ἐκ Θεοῦ, φῶς ἐκ φωτὸς, Θεον ἀληθινὸν ἐκ Θεοῦ ἀληθινοῦ.”

96 Thus speaks Dr. Bushnell on this head (“God in Christ,” p. 139):—

“Besides, it is another source of mental confusion, connected with this view of three metaphysical persons, that, though they are all declared to be infinite and equal, they really are not so. The proper deity of Christ is not held in this view. He is begotten, sent, supported, directed, by the Father, in such a sense as really annihilates his deity. This has been shown in a truly searching and convincing manner by Schleiermacher, in his historical essay on the Trinity; and, indeed, you will see at it at a glance, that this view of a metaphysical Trinity of persons breaks down in the very point which is commonly regarded as its excellence—its assertion of the proper deity of Christ.”